CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 FROM 
 
Cornell University Library 
 DC 148.T43 1866 
 The history.. of, the,,French^revol^ 
 
 3 1924 024 310 488 
 
The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924024310488 
 
THE 
 
 HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 
 
 BY M? A. THIERS, 
 
 LATE PRIME MINISTER OF FRANCE. 
 
 TRANSLATED, 
 
 ^\M T H NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FROM THE 
 
 MOST AUTHENTIC SOURCES, 
 
 BY 
 
 FREDERICK SHOBERL. 
 
 COMPLETE IN FOUR VOLUMES, 
 
 WITH ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 VOL. L 
 
 JSTEW-TORK : 
 1). APPLETOJN & COMPANY 
 
 443 & 445 BROADWAY, 
 1866 
 

 •, -^J 
 
 rrVi 
 
 '■■^^ ^ "*■} ii 
 
 
 ..^-■^■^■•-r-r>- 
 
CHRONOLOGY 
 
 OF THB 
 
 FRENCH REVOLUTION. 
 
 1789. 
 
 Pdiiy 5. Opening of the States-general at Versailles — The tiers-etat, 6G1 deputies; nobles, 
 285; clergy, 308; total, 1254. 
 6. Division between the different orders respecting the mode of verifying their powers. 
 
 10. The electors of Paris declare themselves in permanent session. 
 
 23. Notwithstanding the remonstrances of the tiers-etat, the different orders meet seju- 
 rately. The clergy and nobility communicate to the tiers-etat the renunciation of their 
 privileges, and submit to pay their proportion of the public burdens. 
 Juue 17. The deputies of the tiers-etat, already joined by some of the clergy, declare theit 
 assembly to be the only legal one, and constitute themselves as The National Assembly. 
 The Assembly declares all the taxes illegally imposed, but it authorizes the levy of them 
 provisionally, only till the day ofitsjirst separation, from whatever cause that separa- 
 tion may proceed. 
 
 20. The Oath of the Tennis Court. 
 
 23. Koyal Session of the States-general. 
 
 27. The union of the several Orders in the National Assembly. 
 
 30. The Parisians set at liberty the French guards imprisoned in the Abbaye. 
 -uly 2 — 9. A great number of troops collected around Paris. 
 
 11. Change of the ministry — Dismissal of Necker. 
 
 12. Riots in Paris. The Prince de Lambesc, at the head of the German dragoons, charges 
 the populace in the Tuileries. Camille-Desmoulins, in the garden of the Palais-Royal, 
 recommends an appeal to arms. The green cockade is assumed. Conflict between the 
 French Guards and a detachment of the Royal German regiment. 
 
 13. First organization of the mililia of Paris, The barriers attacked and burnt. 
 
 14. Storming of the Bastille. Massacre of the governor De Launay and Flesselles, ^r^o/ 
 des marchands. The red and blue cockade (the city colours) substituted for the green 
 cockade. 
 
 15. The King and his brothers repair to the National Assembly. The troops collected 
 round Paris dismissed. Approval of the institutions of the national guard. The electors 
 nominate Bailly, mayor of Paris, and Lafayette, general-in-chief of the national guard. 
 
 16. Recall of Necker — Count d'Artois and the Prince de Conde emigrate. 
 
 17. The King proceeds to the Hotel de Ville of Paris. Bailly thus addresses him: " Sire, 
 I bring you the keys of the city of Paris ; they are the same which were presented to 
 Henry IV. He had reconquered his peoplt^ ; the people have reconquered their King." 
 The assembled multitude applauded this address; the King assumed the red and blua 
 cockade. His presence quiets the tumult. 
 
 22. Fresh disturbances on account ol the dearness of corn. Massacre of Foulon and of 
 
 Berthier de Sauvigny. 
 26. The tricoloured cockade adopted. On presenting it to the electors, Lafayette predicts 
 that it will make the tour of the world. 
 ftug. 1. The cannon of Chantilly, and of the Ile-Adam, taken possession of and brought to 
 Paris. 
 
 4. The National Assembly decrees that the constitution shall be {"receded by the declara- 
 tion of the rights of man and of the citizen. Spontaneous abolition of the feudal system, 
 and of all privileges in France. 
 
 18. Democratic insurrection at Liege. 
 
IT CHRONOLOGY OF THE 
 
 Aug. 23. Decree procltiiining liberty of opinions, religious as well as political. 
 
 31. Suppression and dissolution ol the French guards. 
 Sept. 9. The National Assembly declares itself to be permanently assembled. 
 
 10. It adopts as a principle that the legislative body shall consist of only one chambeJ 
 Oct. 1. Declaration of the Rights of Man in society. 
 
 2, Entertainment given by the Life-guards, at Versailles. 
 
 5, 6. The populace at Versailles. The King and all his family are brought to Paris. 
 U. The Duke of Orleans quits Paris for a time and goes to England. 
 
 19. The first sitting of ihe National Assembly at the archbishop's palace. 
 21. Decree conferring upon the tribunal of the Chiitelet the cognizance of the crime ot 
 high treason agai/ist the nation. Martial law introduced. 
 Nov, 2. Ecclesiastical property declared national property. The Abbe Maury, being threat" 
 ened with death a la lanterne, escapes, by saying to those who have come to attack him, 
 " W^ell, and shall you see any (he clearer for that, do you think 1" 
 
 6. Institution of the society of " The Friends of the Constitution " which subsequently 
 became " The Society of the Jacobins." The National Assembly trarlsfers its place of 
 meeting to the Riding-house of the Tuileries. 
 
 Dec. 19. Creation of territorial assignats. 
 
 24. Decree declaring Frenchmen who are not Catholics admissible to all offices, both civil 
 and military. 
 
 1790. 
 
 Ian. 15- Division of France into eighty-three departments. 
 
 21. Equality of punishments enacted, whatever the rank of the culprits. 
 
 26. The Assembly forbids its members to accept any office under government. 
 Feb. 13. Abolition of monastic vows. Suppression of the religious orders, 
 
 19. Execution of the Marquis de Favras. declared guilty of high treason. 
 
 20. Lafayette proclaims in the National Assembly, that, when oppression renders a revo- 
 lution necessary, iNsunnECTiox is the most sacred of duties. 
 
 March 16. Abolition of " Le^/res c?e Cachet." 
 
 17. Appropriation of ecclesiastical properly to the repayment of the assignats. 
 
 28. Suppression of the salt-tax. 
 
 April 1. Publication of the " Red Book." The secret expenses of the court had annually been 
 at the lowest, in 1787,82,000,000 livres; at the highest, in 1783, 145,000,000 livres. 
 
 29. Free trade in corn. 
 
 30. Institution of the jury. 
 
 May 10. Massacre of the patriots at Montauban. 
 
 12. Institution, by Lafayette and Bailly, of the Society of 1789, (afterwards the club of 
 the Feuillans,) to counterbalance the influence of the Jacobin club. 
 
 22. The Assembly decrees that the right of declaring war and making peace belongs to the 
 nation. 
 
 June 3. Insurrection of the blacks at Martinique. 
 
 9, 10. The civil list fixed at 25,000,000 livres. 
 19. Abolition of nobility. 
 
 July 10. Decree restoring to the heirs of Dissenters expelled by the edict of Nantes thcii 
 confiscated property not yet sold. 
 
 14. First National Federation, 
 Aug. 6. Abolition of the droits d'auhaine (seizing the projierty of Aliens). 
 
 16, Justices of the peace instituted. 
 
 31. Revolt of the Swiss soldiers at Chateau- Vieux, 
 Sept. 4. Dismissal and Retreat of Necker. 
 
 6. Suppression of the parliaments. 
 
 10, Funding of the public debt. 
 
 29. Creation of 800,000,000 of forced assignats. 
 Oct. 9. Insurrection of the mulattoes in St. Domingo. 
 Nov. 4. Insurrection in the Isle ot France. 
 
 27, Civil constitution of the clergy. Institution of the Tribunal of Cassation. 
 Dec, 30. Institution of the patents for inventions, 
 
 1791. 
 
 Jan. 28. The French arjny is increased to the war establishment. 
 Feb. 12. Abolition of the monopoly for the cultivation of tobacco 
 
FRENCH KEVOLUTION. ^ 
 
 Feb. 19. Monsieur (afterwards Louis XVIII.) gratifies the populace who surround his palace, 
 by assuring them that he will never emigrate. 
 28. The leaders of the populace proceed to Vincennes and attempt to massacre the prison- 
 ers. The day of the Daggers. The nobles with concealed arms assemble at the Tuile- 
 ries. The King, in order to prevent a conflict between them and the national guards, 
 commands them to lay down their arms. They obey ; and are afterwards insulted and 
 ill-used. 
 April 2, 4. Death and funeral of Mirabeau. 
 
 23. Louis apprizes the foreign courts that he has taken the oath to observe \he future con 
 stitution. 
 May 4. Annexation of Avignon and of the Comtat Venaissin to France. 
 
 15. Admission of the free people of colour to an equality of political rights with the whites, 
 lune 2. Louis XVI., being intimidated, ghts his consent to many decrees from which h« 
 had previously withheld it. 
 .5. The decree passed, wresting from the King the privilege of pardoning criminals. 
 
 10. Louis XVI. secretly protests against the sanctions which he has given to decrees, and 
 also against those which he may hereafter give. 
 
 19. Robespierre is elected public accuser for the tribunal of the Seine. 
 
 21 — 25. Flight to and return from Varcnnes. The emigration of Monsieur. 
 
 26. The Life-guards disbanded. 
 
 July 6. Appeal of the Emperor Leopold to the sovereigns of Europe to unite for the deUver- 
 ance of Louis XVI. 
 7. Louis XVI. disavows the armaments equipping by the emigrants. 
 
 11. Petition for the King's dethronement. The remains of Voltahe transferred to the 
 Pantheon. 
 
 17. The unfurling of the red flag. 
 
 21. Institution for the deaf and dumb established. 
 
 25. Treaty of Berlin against France between Prussia and Austria. 
 30. Suppression of decorations and orders of knighthood. 
 
 Aug. 17. Decree enjoining emigrants to return to France. 
 
 27. Treaty of Pilnttz intended to consolidate the coalition. 
 
 Sept. 3 — 13. Completion and presentation of the constitution to the King. 
 14. Louis XVI. a':cepts the constitution and swears to maintain it. 
 
 29. Decree relati /c to the national guard. 
 
 30. Last sitting of the Constituent Assembly. This Assembly during the three years of 
 its existence, enacted 1309 laws and decrees relative to legislation or to the general 
 administration of the state. 
 
 Oct. 1. First sitting of the Legislative Assembly. 
 
 5. Commencement of the famine. The farmers refuse to take assignats in payment for 
 
 corn. Decree taking from the King the titles of Sire and Your Majesty. 
 14. The King issues a proclamation to the emigrants exhorting them to rally round the 
 constitution. 
 
 16. He writes to his brothers to induce them to return to France. All the men of talent 
 in Europe are invited by the Assembly to communicate their opinions on the civil code. 
 The minister of war announces that 1900 officers have left their regiments and emi- 
 grated. 
 
 28. Decree requiring Monsieur to return to France within two months, upon the penalty 
 of being deprived of his right to the regency. 
 
 30. Massacres at Avignon. The slaughtered prisoners are thrown into an ice-pit. 
 Nov. 12. The King refuses to sanction the decree against the emigrants. 
 
 17. Petion is elected mayor of Paris. 
 
 22. Port-au-Prince (St. Domingo) burnt. 
 
 26. Chabot enters the King's presence with his hat on. 
 
 29. The Assembly requires the King to call upon the princes of the empire not to allow 
 the assembling of emigrants in their territories. 
 
 Dec. 2. Manuel elected procureur-syndic of the commune. 
 
 14. The King announces to the Assembly that he will declare war, if the foreign courts 
 disregard his declarations in favour of the Revolution. 
 
 19. The King puts his veto to the decrees relative to priests who refuse to take the civic 
 oath. 
 
 20. Notification, in the name of the King, to the Elector of Treves to disperse the em> 
 grants collected in his states. 
 
 31. The Assembly suppresses the ceremony usual on New Year's Day. 
 
vi CHRONOLOGY OF THE 
 
 1792. 
 
 Jan. 1. The King's brothers, as emigrants, are decreed under accusation. 
 23, 24. First pillage of the grocers of Paris. . 
 
 Feb. 7. Treaty betv<^en Austria and Prussia to quell the disturbances in trance. 
 
 9. The property of emigrants sequestrated. 
 
 March I. Death of Leopold H. His son Francis succeeds him. 
 
 2. Institution of the King's constitutional guard. 
 
 3. Murder of the mayor of Etampes in the execution of his duty. 
 
 19. Amnesty granted to the assassins of Avignon. v- i • u 
 
 28. Decree admitting men of colour and free negroes to the exercise of pohtical nghts. 
 
 29. Assassination of Gustavus III., King of Sweden. 
 
 30. Appropriation of the property of emigrants to defray the expenses of the war. 
 April 6. Suppression of religious communities. Prohibition of ecclesiastical costumes. 
 
 20. Declaration of war against Austria. 
 
 28. First hostilities and reverses in Belgium. General Theobald Dillon murdered by ha 
 soldiers. 
 
 May 3. Decrees of accusation passed against Boyou, author of VAmi du Roi and Marat, 
 author of VAmi du Peuple. 
 
 29. The King's paid guard disbanded. The National Assembly constitutes itself in per- 
 manent session. 
 
 June 8. Decree ordaining the formation of a camp of 20,000 men near Paris. Opposed by 
 the King. 
 
 12. 13. Dismissal of the ministers, Servan, Roland, and Clavieres. 
 20. The populace at the Tuileries. 
 
 26. First continental coalition against France. 
 
 28. Lafayette appears at the bar to demand, in the name of his army, the punishment of 
 
 the authors of the outrage of the 20th. 
 
 July 7. Francis II. elected Emperor of Germany. 
 
 6. All the ministers of Louis XVI. resign. 
 
 11. Decree declaring the country in danger. 
 
 14. Third Federation. 
 
 30. Arrival of the Marseillais in Paris. 
 
 + Aug. 10. The Tuileries attacked and stormed. 
 
 1 1. Suspension of the King — Formation of an executive council. 
 
 13. Imprisonment of the King and the royal family in the Temple. 
 13 — 21, The foreign ambassadors leave Paris. 
 
 14. Decree directing the sale of the property of the emigrants. 
 
 18. Flight of Lafayette, after attempting in vain to induce his army to rise in favour of 
 Louis XVI. and the constitution. 
 
 28, 29. Law ordaining domiciliary visits. 
 
 Sept. 2. Confiscation of the property of the emigrants. 
 2 — 6. Massacres in the prisons of Paris. 
 9. Massacre of the prisoners from Orleans at Versailles. 
 
 16. The Garde-Meuble robbed of the jewels and precious stones belonging to the crown. 
 20. Battle of Valmy. 
 "^ 21. Closing of the Legislative Assembly, after passing, between the Tst of October, 1791 
 and the present day, 2140 decrees relative to administration or legislation — Opening of 
 the National Convention — Abolition of royalty — Proclamation of the republic. 
 
 22. Commencement of the republican era — Decree ordaining the renewal of all the adminis- 
 trative, municipal, and judicial bodies, as suspected of being gangrened with royalism 
 
 23. Entry of the French into Chambery — Conqviest of Savoy. 
 iiS. Nice taken. 
 
 29. Louis XVI. separated from his family and removed to the great tower of the Temple. 
 f)ct. 8. The siege of Lille raised, after an heroic defence by its inhabitants. 
 
 9. Law ordaining the immediate death of every emigrant taken in arms. 
 
 10. The lilies oi citoyen and cilnyenne adopted instead of monsieur and madame. 
 
 15. Suppression of the order of St. Louis. 
 
 22. Entire evacuation of the French territory by the allies. 
 
 23. Law banishing the emigrants in mass and for ever, and decreeing the penalty of death 
 against all, without distinction of age or sex, who shall return to France. 
 
 Nov. C>. Victory of Jemappes. 
 
 7. Decree for putting Louis XVI. upon his trial 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. vii 
 
 Sov. 19. The Convention, by a decree, promises aid and succour to all thi'sc nations which 
 
 may desire to overthrow their governments. 
 20. Discovery of the iron chest. 
 Dec. 4. Decree pronouncing the penalty of death against all who shall propose or attempt w 
 
 lestore royalty in France. 
 
 11. First examination of Louis XVI, 
 
 IG. Decree banishing the Bourbons, with the exception of the prisoners in the Temple an J 
 Philip Egalite (the Duke of Orleans,) respecting whom the Convention reserves to itself 
 the right of deciding hereafter — Philip EgaUle continues to sit in the Convention. 
 
 25. Louis XVI. writes his will. 
 
 26. Defence of Louis XVI. delivered by Deseze. 
 
 27. Commencement of the debates in the National Convention. 
 
 31. England refuses to recognise the minister of the French republic 
 
 1793. 
 
 Jan. 13. Basseville murdered at Rome. 
 
 14. End of the debates in ihe Convention relative to Louis XVL 
 
 15 — 20. Votes and scrutinies for the sentence on Louis XVI., the appeal to the people^ 
 the reprieve, &c. 
 
 20. Notification to Louis XVI. of the sentence of death pronounced upon him — Last intei* 
 view of the King with his family — Murder of Lepelletier St. Fargeau. 
 
 21. Execution of Louis XVI, 
 
 24. The Convention, in a body, attends the funeral of Lepelletier, to whose remains are 
 awarded the honours of the Pantheon. 
 
 28. Louis Xavier (Monsieur) assumes the title of Regent of France, and proclaims Louia 
 XVII. King, 
 
 31. Incorporation of the county of Nice with France. 
 Feb. 1. The Convention declares war against England and Holland. 
 
 24. Decree ordaining the levy of 300,000 men. 
 
 25, 26. Plunder of the grocers' shops in Paris. 
 March 5. The colonies declared in a state of siege. 
 
 7. The Convention declares war against Spain. 
 
 9. Commissioners of the Convention sent with unlimited powers into the departments — 
 Abolition of imprisonment for debt — First coalition against France formed by England 
 Austria, Prussia, Holland, Spain, Portugal, the Two Sicilies, the Roman States, Sardinia 
 and Piedmont. 
 10, II, Institution of the revolutionary tribunal. 
 
 12. Committees o( surveillance established in Paris. 
 
 11 — 15, Insurrection in La Vendee — Cholet taken by the insurgents. 
 
 18. Battle of Neerwinden. 
 
 21. Decree ordaining the punishment of death against all who shall propose an agrarian law, 
 
 25. Institution of the committee of general safety. 
 
 28. The emigrants banished for ever — Confiscation of their property. 
 April. 1. Defection of Dumouriez. 
 
 6. The committee of public welfare instituted by a law. 
 
 Apprehension of the Duke of Orleans (Egalite), and imprisonment at Marseilles of all 
 
 the members of the family of the Bourbons not confined in the Temple — Representali^ea 
 
 of the people sent to the republican armies. 
 
 13. M.irat decreed under accusation by the Convention. 
 
 14. The Spaniards overrun Roussillon. 
 
 24, Marat acquitted and carried in triumph to the hall of the Convention. 
 May 4, A maximum fixed for the price of corn and flour. 
 10. First meeting of the Convention at the Tuileries. 
 18. The Girondins obtain the institution of the commission of the twelve lo wfttcli tbe 
 
 mctions of agitators. 
 20. Forced loan of 1000 millions imposed upon the rich. 
 
 26, Insurrection in Corsica. 
 
 29, Insurrection in Lyons against the Jacobins. 
 
 30 31 ~) 
 . ',' o ^ Revolution of May 31. Downfall of the Girondins, 
 Mine I, «, 3 ■' 
 
 5. Federalist insurrection at Marseilles and Caen. 
 
 8. Blockade of the ports of France by England. 
 
Vlll CHRONOLOGY OF THE 
 
 June 9. Protest of 73 deputies against the acts of the Convention on the 31st of May, and thi 
 2d of June. 
 10. Saumur taken by the VenJeans— A decree that absolute nftcessaries shall not be taxed 
 21 — 24. Insurrection in St. Domingo — The Cape burned- 
 
 23. Martial law repealed. 
 
 29. The constitution submitted to the primary assemblies. 
 28, 29. Nantes attacked by the Vendeans. 
 July 3. Decree commanding the siege of Lyons. 
 
 4. Foundlings named the children of the country. 
 13, Marat assassinated by Charlotte Corday. 
 
 24. Capitulation of Mayence. 
 
 26. Establishment of telegraphs. 
 
 27. Robespierre nominated a member of the committee of public welfare. 
 
 28. Capitulation of Valenciennes. 
 
 Aug. 1. Marie Antoinette removed to the Conciergerie. 
 
 7. Decree declaring Pitt an enemy of mankind. 
 
 8. Suppression of all academies and literary societies. 
 
 10. The constitution of 1793 accepted by the deputies of 44,000 coramunes of republic. 
 15. Institution of the great book of the public debt. 
 
 22. Adoption of the first eight heads of the civil code. 
 
 23. Law ordaining the levy en masse, 
 
 Sep. 5, Decree enacting that a revolutionary army shall travel over the deoartments with 
 artillery and a guillotine. 
 7, 8. Victory gained over the English at Hondschoote. 
 
 1 1. Establishment of the maximum for corn and flour. 
 1.5. Investment and siege of Toulon. 
 
 17. Law of the suspected. 
 Oct. 10. Lyons taken by the army of the Convention — The government declared revolution 
 ary till a peace. 
 
 15, 16. Victory of Wattignies — The blockade of Maubeuge raised. 
 
 16. Marie Antoinette condemned and executed. 
 
 17 — 19. Defeat of the Vendeans at Cholet — Passage of the Loire. 
 31. The Girondins executed. 
 Nov. 6. The Duke of Orleans (Philip Egalite) executed. 
 
 10. The Catholic worship superseded by that of Reason — Revolutionary massacres at Lyons 
 
 1 1. Bailly executed. 
 
 16. Lotteries suppressed. 
 Dec. 4. Organization of the Revolutionary government 
 
 12. !3. The Vendeans defeated at Mans. 
 
 20. Toulon retaken. 
 
 22. The Vendeans defeated at Savenay. 
 
 26, 27. The lines of Weissenburg retaken — The blockade of Landau raised. 
 
 1794. 
 
 Jan. 1. Decree enacting that every condemned general shall be executed at the head of his army 
 4. Noirmouliers taken — D'Elbee executed. 
 16. Marseilles declared rebellious and to have lost its name. 
 
 21. Decree enacting that the anniversary of the execution of Louis XVI. shall be celebrated 
 as a national festival — Drownings {noyades) at Nantes. 
 
 Feb. 4. Decree abolishing slavery in the colonies. The negroes declared French citizens — 
 Decree enacting that sentences upon ecclesiastics shall be executed without appeal. 
 15. The Convention determines that the national flag shall be composed of three vertical 
 stripes of equal breadth — red, white, and blue. 
 
 22. A maximum fixed for articles of ordinary consumption. 
 
 24. Decree qualifying denouncers to be heard as witnesses. 
 March 5. Danton, Camille-Desmoulins, &.C., executed. 
 
 22. Decree proclaiming justice and integrity the order of the day. 
 ^pril 1. The executive counsel suppressed and succeeded by twelve commissions composed 
 of members of the Convention, and subordinate to the committee of public welfaie. 
 4. Decree enacting that accused persons brought before the revolutionary tribunal who 
 resist the national justice, shall not be allowed to plead, and sentenced forthwith. 
 6. Decree that every member of the Convention snail give an account of his conduct 
 moral and political, and of his circumstances. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. ix 
 
 April 14. Decree that the remains of J. J. Rousseau shall be removed to the Pantheon. 
 16. Decree that a-ll those who live without doing anything, and complain of the Revolution, 
 shall be transported to Guiana. 
 May 7. The Convention acknowledges the existence of the Supreme Being. 
 
 10. Madame Elizabeth, sister of Louis XVI., executed. 
 May 18. Victory of Turcoing. 
 
 23. Execution of young females at Verdun. 
 
 26. Decree that no quarter be given to the English and Hanoverians — Collioure, St. Elme, 
 and Port-Vendres retaken. 
 Jane 1. Establishment of the School of Mara in the plain of Sablons — Sea-fight of the 13th 
 of Prairial — Heroism of the crew of the Vengeur. 
 
 8. Festival of the Supreme Being. 
 
 10. Decree that any moral document may be used as evidence against a person accused 
 before the revolutionary tribunal ; and that there shall be in future no official defenders. 
 23. Battle of Croix-des-Bouquets. 
 
 25. Charleroi taken. 
 
 26. Decree tha.1 corn and forage,of this year's growth be put in requisition — Victory of 
 Flejrus. 
 
 27. Institution of a police legion for the city of Pans. 
 
 July 4. Decree that the foreign garrisons in French fortresses, which refuse to surrender 
 
 within twenty-four hours after the first summons, shall be put to the sword. 
 / 6. Landrecies retaken. 
 26. (8th of Thermidor.) Robespierre at the Jacobin club. 
 27,28. (9lh and 10th of Thermidor.) Downfall of Robespierre. 
 
 29. Execution of eighty-three members of the general council of the commune outlawed 
 on the 27th. 
 Aug. 1. Fouquier-Tinville apprehended. 
 12. A new revolutionary tribunal installed. 
 16. Quesnoy retaken. 
 
 23. All persons of seventy in confinement set at liberty. 
 
 24. Decree limiting the powers of the committee of public welfare. 
 27 — 30. Valenciennes and Conde retaken. 
 
 31. Explosion of the powder-magazine at Crenelle, by which fifteen hundred persons lose 
 
 their lives — Decree for checking the progress of Vandalism — The monuments of the arts 
 
 and sciences placed under the care of the authorities. 
 
 Sept. 1. Barrcre, Billaud-Varennes, and CoUot-d'Herbois, turned out of the committee of public 
 
 welfare — That committee had been prorogued and re-elected fourteen times successively. 
 
 10. Attempt to assassinate Tallien. 
 
 24. Destruction of the English settlements at Sierra-Leone. 
 Oct. 2. Victory of Aldcnhoven. 
 
 7. Lyons resumes its name. 
 
 10. Institution of the Conservatory of Arts and Trades. 
 
 12. The Convention forbids all political correspondence between popular societies in thcii 
 
 collective name. 
 20. The Normal School instituted. 
 
 23. The School of Mars .suppressed. 
 
 N'ov. 1. Great dearth. The inhabitants of Paris receive but two ounces of bread per day. 
 The busts of Marat and Lepelletier destroyed. — The body of Marat dragged from the 
 Pantheon and thrown into a sewer. 
 
 9. The Jacobins attacked by the Gilded Youth. 
 
 12. Decree suspending the meetings and closing the hall of the Jacobin club. 
 
 17 — 20. Battle of Montagne Noire, in which the two commanders-in-chief, Dugommiei 
 
 and La Union are slain. 
 dec. 2, Amnesty oifered to the Vendeans and Chouans, who shall lay down their arms within 
 
 a month. 
 
 8. The deputies proscribed on the 31st of May, 1793, readmitted into the Convention 
 
 9. Decree that in future the secrecy of letters shall not he violutca vi the interior. 
 16, 17. Carrier condemned and executed. 
 
 24. The laws of the maximum repealed. 
 
 80. The decree enacting that no quarter shall be given to the English and Hanovenani 
 
 repealed. 
 VOL. I. — (2) 
 
x CHRONOLOGY OF THE 
 
 1795. 
 
 Jan. 19. Declaration of Russia that "there is no longer either a kingdom or republic of Po 
 land" — The French enter Amsterdam — Conquest of Holland. 
 
 20. A Dutch fleet taken by French Cavalry. 
 
 Feb. 2. Repeal of the penal laws issued against Lyons. 
 
 6. Holland abolishes the stadtholdership, and constitutes itself a republic. 
 9. Treaty of peace between France and Tuscany. 
 
 16. First pacification of La Vendee, called the pacification of La Jaunaie. 
 Mar. 2. The late :r:ember3 of the committee of public welfare placed under accusation. 
 8. The outlawed deputies readmitted into the Convention. 
 
 15. Decree that each inhabitant of Paris shall be allowed but one pound of bread per day • 
 labouring people only to have a pound and a half. 
 
 21. Institution of the Central School of Public Works (afterwards the Polytechnic School; 
 — Law against seditious assemblies. 
 
 April 1. Transportation of the late members of the committee of public welfare (1 2th Germinal} 
 .5. Treaty of peace between the French Republic and, the King of Prussia. 
 
 7. Establishment of the uniformity of weights, measures, and coins, upon the decimal 
 system. 
 
 24. Massacres in the prisons of Lyons. 
 May 7. Execution of Fouquier-Tinville and fifteen jurors of the revolutionary tribunal 
 
 16. Alliance between the French and the Batavian repubUcs. 
 17 — 19. Jacobin insurrection at Toulon. 
 
 20. Disturbances of the 1st of Prairial. 
 
 22. Insurrection of the fauxbourg Su Antoine. 
 
 24. Disarming of the fauxbourg St. Antoine and the sections of Paris. 
 
 30. 'i'he public exercise of the Catholic religion authorized. 
 
 31. The extraordinary revolutionary criminal tribunal suppressed. 
 June 1 — 5. Insurrection at Toulon quelled. 
 
 2. Funeral honours paid to Feraud, the deputy, murdered on the 1st of Prairial. 
 
 8. Death of the Dauphin, son of Louis XVI. 
 
 17. Death of Romme, Goujon, Soubrani, &c. 
 
 24. Charette again takes up arms in La Vendee. 
 
 27. Institution of a police legion for the safeguard of Paris. 
 July 21. The emigrants lay down their arms at Quiberon. 
 
 22. Treaty of peace between France and Spain signed at Basle. 
 Aug. 3. Institution of the Conservatory of Music. 
 
 22. The new constitution, called the constitution of the year III, adopted. 
 
 23. Decree definitely dissolving the popular societies. 
 
 30. Decree enacting that two-thirds of the members of the new legislative assemblies shah 
 be, for the first time only, exclusively chosen from the National Convention. 
 Sept. 23. Proclamation of the acceptance of the constitution of the year III by the people 
 Oct. 1. Belgium and all the conquered countries on the left bank of the Rhine incorporated 
 with the Republic. ^ 
 
 2. Landing of Count d'Artois in Ile-Dieu. 
 5. Insurrection of the 13th Vendemiaire. 
 
 25. Formation of the Institute decreed. 
 
 26. End of the National Convention, after passing 8370 decrees. 
 
 28. First meeting of the Council of the Ancients and the Council of the Five Hundred 
 Nov. 1. Formation of the Directory— Laruveillere-Lepaux, Le Tourneur, Rewbel Barr'as 
 
 and Carnot, chosen directors. ' 
 
 4. The Directory establishes itself at the Luxembourg. 
 17. Evacuation of the Ile-Dieu. 
 23 — 27. Battle and victory of Loano. 
 Uec.26. The daughter of Louis XVL exchanged for, I, the representatives ana General 
 Beurnonville, delivered up to the Austrians by Dumcuriez; 2, Maret and Semonvillc 
 diplomatic envoys, seized by the Austrians in 1793: 3, Drouet, the ex-convcntionaliet, 
 made prisoner in 1792. ' 
 
 1796. 
 
 Jan 1. Institution of the ministry of the police. 
 F«U 2. The twelve municipalities of Paris installed. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. XI 
 
 P«b. ?4. Stofflet, again in arms at La Vendee, taken and shot 
 Mdr. 29. Charette shot at Nantes. 
 
 April 2- d. Insurrection in Berry, which is quelled immediately. 
 11, 12. Battle of Montenotte. 
 
 13, 14. Battle of Millesimo. 
 
 22. Battle of Mondovi. 
 
 May 10. Battle of the bridge of Lodi. 
 
 15. Treaty of peace between the French Republic and the King of Sardinia — The French 
 enter Milan. 
 June 4. Battle of Altenkirchen gained by Jourdan. 
 
 21. Armistice granted to the Pope, by Bonaparte. 
 
 23. Morea crosses the Rhine at Kehl. 
 
 29. The casile of Milan taken. 
 
 July 9. Battle of Ettlingen gained by Morcau. 
 Aug. 5. Victory of Castiglione. 
 
 15. Definitive pacification of La Vendue. 
 
 18. Offensive and defensive alliance between France and Spain. 
 Sept. 5. The French enter Trent, 
 
 8. Battle of Bassano. 
 
 15. Bittle of St, George — Wurmser blockaded in Mantua. 
 Oct. 2. Battle of Biberach, gained by Morcau. 
 
 8. Spain declares war against England. 
 10. Treaty of peace between the Republic and the King of the Two Sicilies. 
 
 22. Corsica retaken from the English. 
 Nov. 15 — 17. Victory of Arcole. 
 
 Dec. 20. Rupture of the conferences opened at Paris with Lord Malmcsbury. 
 24 — 27. Expedition to Ireland; productive of no result. 
 
 1797. 
 
 Jan. 9. Capitulation of Kchl, after the trenches had been opened forty-eight hours. 
 
 14, 15. Battle of Rivoli. 
 
 16. Battle of La Favorita — Capitulation of Provcra. 
 Feb. 2. Mantua taken. 
 
 5. Surrender of the tele de ponte of Huninguen. 
 
 19. Treaty of peace of Tolentino, between the French Republic and the Pope. 
 Mar. 16. Passage of the Tagliamento. 
 
 April 15. Preliminaries of peace between France and Austria, signed at Leobcn. 
 
 18. Battle of Neuwied pained by Hoche. 
 
 20. 21. Passage of the Rhine at Diersheim, by Moreau. 
 
 May 16. The French enter Venice — Overthrow of the old Venetian government. 
 
 31. Revolution at Genoa — Creation of the Ligurian republic. 
 June 28. Occupation of Corfu. 
 July 9. Establishment of the Cisalpine Republic. 
 Aug. 24. Repeal of all the laws relative to the exile or confinement of priests refusing to take 
 
 the oath. 
 Sept. 4. Violent proceedings of the 18th of Fructidor. 
 
 17. Rupture of the conferences at Lille opened for peace with England. 
 
 19. Death of General Hoche. 
 
 30. Law for dividing the public debt into three thirds, of which one cr.;y is consolidated. " 
 Oct. 17. Treaty of peace signed at Campo Formio, between France and Austria. 
 
 Dec. 9. Opening of the congress of Rastadt. 
 
 10. Solemn reception of General Bonaparte by the Directory. 
 
 28. Riot at Rome — Murder of General Duphot — The French legation leaves the Papu 
 territories. 
 
 1798. 
 
 Jon. 1. Law concerning the constitutional organization of the Colonies. 
 
 5. Forced loan of eighty millions to defray the expenses of the preparations for an invasKW 
 of England. 
 27. Invasion of Switzerland. 
 Fob. 10. The French enter Rome. 
 
 15, Abolition of the Papal government — The Roman republic proclaimed. 
 
xii CHRONOLOGY OF THE 
 
 Mar. 1. The Rhine acknowledged by the congress of Rastadt as the boundary of the French 
 Republic. 
 
 5. Berne taken. 
 
 April 17. Organization of the national gendarmerie. 
 
 19. Landing of the English near Oslend : all killed or taken. 
 
 26. Incorporation of Geneva with France. 
 
 May i. Holland reconstitutes itself by the name of the Batavian republic 
 9. The English evacuate St. Domingo. 
 
 19. Sailing of the expedition for Egypt. 
 June 10—13. Taking of Malta. 
 July 1 — 3. Landing in Egypt, 
 
 21. Battle of the Pyramids. 
 
 27. Suspension of commercial relations between France and America. 
 Aug. 1, 2. Sea-fight at Aboukir. 
 
 21, Creation of the Institute of Egypt. 
 
 22. Landing in Ireland of 1150 French, under the command of Humbert. 
 Sept. 5. Establishment of the conscription. 
 
 a Humbert, attacked by 25,000 English, is forced to surrender. 
 12. The Porte declares war against France. 
 Oct. 8. Battle of Sedyman. 
 
 22 — 24. Insurrection at Cairo. 
 Nov. 24. Imposition of a tax on doors and windows. 
 
 Dec. 5. Battle of Civita Castellana — Defeat of 40,000 Neapolitans under General Mack, by 
 6000 French, under Macdonald. 
 
 6. Declaration of war against the Kings of Naples and Sardinia. 
 
 9. Ratification of the treaty of peace between the French and Helvetic republics. 
 8 — 10. Occupation of Turin by General Joubert — The King of Sardinia cedes Piedmonl 
 
 to France. 
 14. Reoccupation of Rome by Championnet. 
 18. Treaty of alliance between England and Russia against France. 
 
 1799. 
 
 Jan. 23. Naples taken by Championnet. 
 
 March 1 —4. Hostile movements of the French and Austrian armies on the Rhine. 
 
 7. Coire taken — Conquest of the country of the Grisons by the French. 
 10. Expedition to Syria — Jaffa taken. 
 
 25. Defeat of the French at Stockach. 
 i7. Seizure of Pope Pius VI,, who is carried to France. 
 ,/ 16. Victory of Mount Tabor. 
 April 27. Defeat of the French at Cassano. 
 
 28. Murder of the French plenipotentiaries at Rastadt. 
 May 21. The army of the East raises the siege of Acre. 
 
 24. The citadel of Milan taken by Suwarrow. 
 June 8. Zurich taken by the archduke Charles. 
 
 17, 18. Events of the 30th of Prairial — Three of the directors are turned out by the legis. 
 lative body. 
 
 17—19. Defeat of the French at Trebbia. 
 
 July 12. Law authorizing the relatives of emigrants and nobles to be seized as hostages. 
 
 25. Victory of the French at Aboukir. 
 30. Mantua taken by the Austrians. 
 
 Aug. 15. Defeat of the French at Novi. 
 22. General Bonaparte quits Egypt. 
 
 29. Death of Pope Pius VII. detained a captive at Valence. 
 Sept. 19 Defeat of the Anglo-Russian army at Bergen, in Holland. 
 
 25—29. Battle of Zurich. Defeat of the united Austrians and Russians. 
 Oct. 16. Arrjval of Bonaparte in Paris. 
 
 18. Capitulation of Anglo-Russians at Alkmaer. 
 
 Nov. 9, 10. Revolution of the 18th Brumaire— Bonaparte proclaimed provisional Consul 
 Dec. 16. Law organizing the Polytechnic School. 
 
 26. Constitution of the year VIII— Bonaparte nominated First Consul Cambac^roa end 
 Lebnm associated with him as second and third Consuls. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 Op all the native historians — and their name is Legion — wlio have 
 written on the suhject of the French Revolution, the two most distin- 
 guished are decidedly Messrs. Thiers and Mignet. Both these emi- 
 nent men are remarkable for the impartial tone of their narratives, 
 considering how recent are the stirring events of which thej treat ; 
 for the accuracy of their details ; for the skill with which they com- 
 pare and sift conflicting evidence, and the general justness of their 
 conclusions ; and for the luminous and succinct manner in which they 
 trace, step by step, the progress of the most awful moral convulsion 
 that the world has yet known. They do not mix themselves up with 
 the strife, or take part in the feverish emotions of the chief combatants, 
 but stand aloof, as shrewd and cool lookers-on. They enlist neither un- 
 der the banner of the Gironde nor of the IMountain ; they swear nei- 
 ther by the sovereignty of Louis, nor by that of the People ; they are 
 neither Orleanists, nor Septembrizers, nor Terrorists ; but act upon 
 the broad, enduring principle of giving fair play to all parties. 
 
 But though both possess these important historical requisites nearly 
 equally in common, there are points in which they difier widely from 
 each other. Thiers shows more of the journalist — Mignet more of 
 the philosopher in his work. The former, when once he is fairly em- 
 barked on his task, after a few introductory observations of no great 
 pith or moment, moves right on, narrating events as they occur, frank- 
 ly and minutely, without much troubling himself with investigating 
 causes; the latter is frequently halting, for the purpose of indulging 
 in speculations, which although correct and pertinent in the main, are 
 
 VOL. I. 1. 1 
 
11 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 occasionally somewhat too subtile and refined fo7 tiie taste of the 
 general reader. In their various delineations of charactert Thiers ex- 
 hibits the most worldly tact — IMignet the most metaphysical acuteness, 
 especially where lie has to draw such a portrait as that of the Abb6 
 Sieyes, whom, because he was like himself, a lover of abstract specu- 
 lation, and addicted to considering the theory rather than the prac- 
 tice of Government, M. Mignet has painted con amorc, and in his 
 jrightest colours. We cannot help thinking, however, that Burke and 
 Napoleon were nearer the mark, when they pronounced this well-in- 
 tentioi.ed but somewhat crotchetty Abb6 to be little better than a mere 
 visionary. 
 
 To the general reader Thiers's work will always present more at 
 tractions than that of M. Mignet — for this plain reason, that although 
 it contains less of what has been called, " the philosophy of history," 
 it is of a far more animated, practical, and dramatic character. 
 There is a shrewd, business-like air about it — although here and there 
 tlie author would evidently desire to be thought a profounder reasoner 
 than he is — that all can understand and appreciate. Hence the secret 
 of the great success that it has met with on the continent. In a word, 
 Thiers the historian is a perfect facsimile of Thiers the statesman — 
 an adroit, keen, clear-headed man of the world, with no strong pas- 
 sions or prejudices to warp or lead astray his judgment.* 
 
 It is to be regretted that an author so well versed in the annals of his 
 country as M. Thiers, has not thought it worth his while to enter more 
 into detail on the subject of the numerous secondaiy causes which 
 helped to bring about the French Revolution. It will be observed that, 
 after a few brief introductory paragraphs, of a didactic rather than an 
 historical character, he coijies at once to his subject, as if he took for 
 granted that all his readers were as well acquainted as himself with the 
 remote, as well as with the immediate, origin of that memorable event 
 His history may be said to commence with the derangement of the 
 national finances after the death of Maurepas ; but the seeds of the 
 revolution were sown long before his time. The immediately pro- 
 pelling cause was no doubt financial, but the struggle had become ne 
 cessary— it may almost be said — from the day of the decease of the 
 Grand Monarque. 
 
 After the cessation of the wars of the Fronde and the death of 
 Mazarin, Colbert, whose knowledge of finance had introduced him to 
 the notice of that wily minister, succeeded to power. This great states- 
 
 • For a brief but well-written chixracter of Thiers as an historian, the reader is 
 leferredto a review of Mr. Carlyle's French Revolution, which appeared in the 
 "Times" newspaper a few weeks ago 
 
INTRODUCTlOiV. Ill 
 
 man, who was far in advance of his age, was every way calculated to 
 make France happy and flourishing. Accordingly, under his bene- 
 ficent auspices, she made rapid strides towards prosperity. Com- 
 merce was encouraged — domestic dissensions were healed, as if by 
 magic — navies equipped — colonies founded — the fine arts and litera- 
 ture patronised- -the authority of the law respected — and the duty of 
 toleration enforced in religious matters, Colbert was essentially a 
 peace Minister ; and, had he been permitted to retain his authority, 
 and to put in force his projected reforms, the majority of which were 
 of a grand and comprehensive character, it is not impossible that the 
 constant struggles which ultimately terminated in revolution might 
 have been avoided, or at any rate retarded for years ; but unfortunately 
 all his patriotic efforts were thwarted by the intrigues of his sworn 
 foe, the war minister, Louvois, who, by flattering the humours and 
 pandering to the ambition of Louis, plun^^ed France into a destruc- 
 tive and extravagant war with Europe, the effects of which, felt hea- 
 vily during this showy monarch's reign, were felt with still more seve- 
 rity by his feeble and thoughtless successors. 
 
 It was at this disastrous period that absolute monarchy was defini- 
 tively established. The crown arrogated the right to dispose alike 
 of person and of property v/ithout the slightest regard to law or equity. 
 The nation, though divided into three orders, which were again sub- 
 divided into several classes, may yet be said to have consisted of but 
 two distinct parties — the privileged and the unprivileged. The latter 
 of course constituted the great mass of the community. On them 
 fell the chief burdens of the state ; for the noblesse were, to a great 
 degree, exempt from imposts ; and the clergy had the convenient pri- 
 vilege of taxing themselves. " This order," says M. Mignet, " was 
 divided into two classes, one of which was destined for the bishoprics, 
 abbacies, and their rich revenues ; the other, to apostolic laoours, and 
 to poverty. The Ticrs-etat^ borne down by the Court, and harassed 
 by the noblesse, was itself separated into corporations, which retali- 
 ated upon each other the evils and oppressions that they sufiered from 
 their superiors. They possessed scarcely a third part of the soil, upon 
 which they were compelled to pay feudal services to their lords, tithes 
 to their priests, and imposts to the King. In compensation for so 
 many sacrifices they enjoyed no rights ; had no share in the adminis 
 Iration ; and were admitted to no public employments." 
 
 Such was the condition of France at the most imposing period of 
 Louis XIV.'s reign. Colbert would have gone far to remedy this state 
 of things — for he was as bold and determined as he was sagacious ; 
 but he had passed from the theatre rj action, and henceforth there 
 
19 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 was ncne to interfere with the monarch's will. The noblesse coul 
 not, even had they desired it — for they were reduced to a state of per- 
 fect dependence, which, however, tliey bore with equanimity, receiv- 
 ing its price in pleasures and in royal favour ; and still less could the 
 parliament, for it had no longer a will — not even a voice of its own. 
 Nevertheless, though manacled in every limb, France bore with this 
 state of affairs during the life of the Grand Monarque, for its innate 
 vanity was gratified by his military glories, by the splendour of his 
 court, and, above all, by the intellectual triumphs of the age. On a 
 superficial view, the country would never have appeared so prosper- 
 ous as at this splendid epoch. But though all on the surface looked 
 plausible enough ; though pleasure and festivity were the order of the 
 day ; though the military and literaiy glories of France were known 
 and respected throughout Europe, and she herself held the first rank 
 among nations ; the earthquake was at work beneath, destined 
 soon to explode with terrific energy. 
 
 Despite the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, which added so great- 
 ly to the discontent of the most industrious and intelligent portion of 
 the community, and the subjection in which he held all classes, the 
 highest equally with the lowest of his people, Louis was by no means 
 a tyrant in the ordinary acceptation of the term. He Avas simply a 
 selfish and ambitious man. His youth had been wholly neglected ; 
 he was never taught the duties which a sovereign owes to his subjects, 
 but held it as an axiom not to be controverted, that the many were 
 made for the one. Passionately fond of excitement, and incapable 
 of self-restraint, these factitious, unhealthy feelings made him in his 
 meridian manhood a lover of war, as in his age they converted him 
 into a bigot. Of the real condition of France, and of the irrepara 
 ble injuries which his reckless extravagance was yearly inflictino- on 
 her, he knew nothing. Surrounded by sycophants — hailed by grave 
 divines and renowned wits as the pride and saviour of his country — 
 he had httle difiliculty in persuading himself that he was all, and more 
 than all, that he was said to be. It was his leading defect throughout 
 life to be ever mistaking the show for the substance of national pros- 
 perity. 
 
 The exertions which this monarch made to encourage a taste for 
 literature, and to diffuse intelligence among his people, conduced 
 even more than his own improvident system of government, to sow the 
 seeds of revolution. By creating a habit of reflection amono- those 
 who up to this time were, comparatively speaking, immersed in i"-no- 
 rance, he went far, without meaning to do so, to establisli pubhc 
 ©pinion ; and every one knows that the spirit of inquiry once set in 
 
INTRODUCTION. V 
 
 motion cannot be stopped ; for it is like the risir.g tiCie, which, how- 
 ever it may seem to recede, gains ground with every wave. Accord- 
 ingly, the impulse given to intellect by Louis, went on increasing, 
 quietly and insidiously, year by year. The Tiers-etat began to look 
 about them, to discuss the causes of the evils under which they had so 
 long groaned, and to speculate on the nature of tlie remedy. 
 
 While the popular mind was thus rousing itself from the torpor of 
 ages, a sect of philosophers and sophists arose, who gave it precisely 
 that sort of impetus which it was so well fitted to receive. From the 
 period when these men obtained notoriety by their writings, a revo- 
 lution became inevitable. They dispelled, as with an enchanter's 
 wand, tiie Cimmerian gloom of centuries. Not a question in religion, 
 jurisprudence, legislation, finance, or social polity, escaped their 
 searcliiiig scrutiny. They exposed the wrongs, and pointed out the 
 rights of their countrymen ; but while they did this, they at the same 
 time advocated doctrines wholly incompatible with the well-doing of 
 civilized society. INIr. Alison, alluding to the startling effects produced 
 by these men, observes that they " took place under the feeble succes- 
 8ors of the Grand IMonarque. h\ the philosophical speculations of the 
 eighteenth century, in the writings of Voltaire, Rousseau, Raynal, 
 and the Encyclopccdists, the most free and unreserved discussion took 
 place on political subjects. By a singular blindness the constituted 
 authorities, how despotic soever, made no attempt to curb these in- 
 quiries, which, being all couched in general terms, or made in refer- 
 ence to other states, appeared to have no bearing on the tranquillity 
 of the kingdom. Strong in the support of the nobility and the pro- 
 tection of the army, they deemed their power beyond the reach of 
 attack ; and anticipated no danger from dreams on the social contract, 
 or the manners and spirit of nations. A direct attack on the mo- 
 narchy would have been followed by an immediate place in theBastile; 
 but general disquisitions excited no alarm either among the nobility, or 
 in the government. So universal was this delusion, that the young 
 nobility amused themselves with visionary speculations concerning 
 the original equality and pristine state of man: deeming such specu- 
 lations as inapplicable to their case as the license of Otaheite or the 
 equality of Tartary." 
 
 Foremost among those whose writings tended to inflame and per- 
 vert the public mind were Voltaire and Rousseau. The former of 
 these had every possible requisite for such a task. Shrewd, calcu- 
 lating, and cunning as a fox ; a wit without heart, an innovator with- 
 out principle ; an expert sophist, the light thin soil of whose mind 
 could not nourish the tree of knowledge ; acquainted with eociety ir 
 
VI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 all its grades, from the highest to the lowest ; a contemner, less from 
 sound conviction, than from the instincts of overweening self-conceit, 
 of all systems of religion, government, and morals — this " brilliant 
 Frenchman," as Cowper justly calls him, was just the man to pre- 
 cipitatethe grand crisis of the Revolution. AH who read, could under- 
 stand him. There was no affected mysticism in his manner, no pow- 
 er of deep reflection, for his thoughts lay on the surface ; he was uni- 
 formly concise, lucid, and plausible ; and set off his style by all the 
 graces of the most sparkling wit and cutting sarcasm. His favourite 
 mode of dealinof with the most momentous matters, was by insinua- 
 lion. He sneers away a moral principle in a sentence, and disturbs 
 one's faith in religion and humanity, by a terse and sparkling alle- 
 gory. That he effected some good in his generation, is unquestiona- 
 ble. He denounced the avarice and negligence of the privileged 
 priesthood ; lashed the insane rage for war, then so general on the 
 continent ; exposed the vices and imbecility of the noblesse ; and did 
 not spare even the throne itself. Had he stopped here, it had been 
 well ; but his restless intellect spurned all decent restraints, perversely 
 confounded the distinctions between truth and falsehood — sophis- 
 try and common sense. Like an Irishman in a row, he laid about 
 him with his club without the slightest regard to consequences. Cyn- 
 ical by nature, the crimes and utter callousness that he observed 
 among the higher classes made him a sceptic to all generous emotions; 
 as the corruption of the privileged clergy made him reject all belief in 
 Christianity. Hazlitt, who of all men in the world was the least 
 likely to underrate him, has well observed that " the poisoned wound 
 he inflicted was so fine as scarcely to be felt, until it rankled and fes- 
 :ered in its mortal consequences ; and that he loved to reduce things 
 below their level, making them all alike seem worthless and hollow !'* 
 Of a far different order of intellect, but in his way equally influen- 
 tial, was Voltaire's great rival, Rousseau. The object of this insidi- 
 ous sentimentalist was — in politics, to bring about republicanism ; in 
 ethics, to subvert the entire frame-work of society, and introduce uni- 
 versal license ; in religion, to do away with faith grounded on the con- 
 victions of reason, and to substitute in its stead the cant of instinct 
 and sensibility. His specious, shallow, tinsel eloquence, which was 
 mistaken for the sterling ore of thought, turned the brain of all 
 France. Because his ideas were eccentric, they were accounted pro- 
 found ; and his studied lewdness was received as the promptino- of a 
 healthy and impassioned temperament. We who live in more en 
 liglitened times, when the public mind is able to detect the true from 
 the false, and, if crazy for a season by some pet crotchet, never fails 
 
INTRODUCTION. «ll 
 
 soon to right itself, can scarcely imagine the effect which Vohaire and 
 Rousseau, assisted hy the Encyclopccdists, produced in their day 
 That a convulsion would have taken pjace, even Avithout their aid, is 
 unquestionable ; but equally certain is it that they greatly contributed 
 to hurry on the crisis. The effects of their "writings may easily be 
 traced in the sophistical speculations of the unworldly Girondius — the 
 republican cant of the Dantonists — and the sentimental infidelity of 
 the worshippers of the Goddess of Reason. 
 
 The radical defect of all Rousseau's writinsr was the substitution of 
 sentiment for principle. Never was man so glaringly deficient in what 
 may be called the moral sense. His mind *' wore motley," and was 
 made up of inconsistencies. While he professed to inculcate a sys- 
 tem of the purest ethics, lie lived in avowed adultery with a woman old 
 enough to be his mother ; and wrote upon the duties owing by parents 
 to their children, while he sent his own to the Foundling Hospital I 
 That he was actuated throughout his literary career by no better feel- 
 iufj than a mere morbid craving for notoriety is evident from one of 
 his published conversations with Burke, wherein he observes that, find- 
 ing t!iat the ordinary vehicle of literature was worn out, he took upon 
 himself the task of renewing the springs, repainting the panels, and 
 gilding the whole machine afresh. In other words, he was solely 
 anxious to create a sensation, no matter how eccentric were the means 
 which he employed for that purpose. 
 
 It was the fashion of the day, even among the court circles — Avhere 
 the spirit was utterly unknown — to praise this man as the apostle of 
 liberty. This is certainly a saving clause in his favour — or at least 
 would be so, were it not altogether fallacious. Rousseau's love of 
 independence was purely a factitious feeling, else wherefore happened 
 it that he was the slave of his own diseased imagination? To be the 
 true apostle of freedom the man himself must be free. No mean dis- 
 trusts — no maudlin misanthrophy — no sensual, prurient fancies — must 
 interfere with, or influence, his opinions. He must tower above the 
 ordinary level of mankind as much in conduct as in intellect ; for by 
 the union of worth and genius alone is the world's conviction ensured. 
 Yet it has been urged by those, who, seduced by their talents, would 
 fain, make e?-:cuses for their sophistries, that Rousseau and Voltaire 
 acted from the best intentions. This is pure cant — the plea urged by 
 every knave for his offences against society. The bar of the Old 
 Bailey is filled every session with the best intentions ; they figure un- 
 equivocally in the police-offices ; people the vast pasturages of Aus- 
 tralia, and form — says the quaint old Spanish proverb — the pavement 
 of bell itself 
 
nil INTRODUCTION. 
 
 While Voltaire and Rousseau, in coujunction with the Encyclr»pa^dist3, 
 were llius striking at the roots of social order, under the pretence of 
 invi'Toratinir them, tlie court and the noblesse— frantic suicides !— were 
 assisting tliem by every means in their power, first, by their applause, 
 and secondly by their vices. Louis XV., an imbecile, sensual prince, 
 without vigour, principle, or consistency of character, set an example 
 of gross licentiousness,which his courtiers were not slow to follow, and 
 which furnished the sophists with ample food for sarcasm and decla- 
 maiion. Under the disastrous reign of this monarch, justice was 
 bought and sold like any other commodity. A liberal present, the 
 promise of promotion, the smiles of a beautiful wife or mistress, could, 
 in seven cases out of ten, sway the decision of a judge. Criminal 
 commissions, the members of which were nominated by the crown, 
 were frequently appointed, thus rendering personal liberty as insecure 
 as real property. Warrants of imprisonment, too, without either ac- 
 cusation or trial, might consign obnoxious individuals to a dungeon 
 for life. IMoreover, enormous debts were contracted without national 
 authority ; and the public creditors were kept wholly in the dark as 
 to the state of the national finances. 
 
 Another predisposing cause to revolution was the preposterous sa- 
 laries of the civil servants of the crown, and of the aristocratic officers 
 of the army, who, though paid at a rate which would now appear in- 
 credible, yet made a point of neglecting their duties, or bribing others 
 to perform them. Every where Corruption stalked abroad with un- 
 blushing front. It wore the general's uniform — the judge's robe — the 
 bishop's hood. It had the privilege of the entr^ at court, and sate 
 next the monarch at the royal banquet. The most important func- 
 tions of government were carried on in the boudoirs of mistresses ; 
 the petticoat decided questions o war or peace ; and he would have 
 been deemed a most incompetent Minister indeed, who would have 
 dared to controvert the opinions of a Pompadour or a Du BarrL 
 
 Pope has admirably described this state of things in his magnificenS 
 
 epilogue to the satires : 
 
 " In soldier, church:nan, patriot, man in power, 
 
 'Tis avarice all, ambition is no more ; 
 
 See all our nobles begging to be slaves! 
 
 See all our fools aspiring to be knaves T 
 
 All, all look up with reverential awe 
 
 At crimes that 'scape or triumph o'er the law, 
 
 While truth, worth, wisdom, daily they decry, 
 
 Nothing is sacred now but villany !" 
 
 The Ticrs-etat were become quite intelligent enough to appreciate 
 
INTRODUCTION. IS. 
 
 the condition of France at this critical period ; but as yet they stifled 
 tlieir indiii;nation, or only gave vent to it in occasional remonstrance. 
 The stream still flowed on smooth, and the Court, because they heard 
 not the thunder of the cataract, imagined that they were far removed 
 from danger. Infatuated men ! They were already within the Ra- 
 pids ! 
 
 The spirit of discontent that prevailed among the middle classes, 
 prevailed still more strongly among the peasantry ; and with good 
 cause, for their local burdens, and the services due by them to their 
 feudal superiors, were vexatious and oppressive in the extreme. '* The 
 most important operations of agriculture," says an historian who has 
 been already cpioted, "were fettered or prevented by the game laws, 
 and the restrictions intended for their support. Game of the most 
 destructive kind, such as wild boars and herds of deer, were permitted 
 to go at large through spacious districts, without any enclosure to 
 protect the crops. Numerous edicts existed, which prohibited hoeing 
 and weeding, lest the young partridges should be disturbed; mowing 
 hay, lest the eggs should be destroyed ; taking away the stubble lest 
 the birds should be deprived of shelter; manuring with night soil, 
 lest their flavour should be injured. Complaints for the infraction of 
 these edicts were all carried before the manorial courts, where every 
 species of oppression, chicanery, and fraud was prevalent. Fines 
 Averc imposed at every change of property in the direct and collateral 
 line ; at every sale to purchasers ; the people were bound to grind 
 their corn at the landlord's mill, press their grapes at his piess, and 
 bake their bread at his oven. Obligations to repair the roads, founded 
 on custom, decrees, and servitude, were enforced with the most rigor- 
 ous severity ; in many places the use even of handmills was not free, 
 and the seigneurs were invested with the power of selling to the pea- 
 sants the right of bruising buckv/heat or barley between two stones. 
 It ig vain to attempt a description of the feudal services which pressed 
 with so much severity in every part of France." Mr. Young, who 
 travelled through France about this period, bears equal testimony to 
 the Avretclied condition of the peasantry. " AVith a very few excep- 
 tions," he observes, " they were in the most indigent state — their 
 houses, dark, comfortless, and almost destitute of furniture — their 
 dress rajjijed and miserable — their food the coarsest and most humble 
 fare. They were oppressed by their feudal superiors with a variety 
 of the most jrallina' burdens." No wonder that when the Revolution 
 at length broke out, these slaves of ages rose enthusiastically at tho 
 Uie first summons of the demagogues and anarchists ! 
 
 Another just cause of discontent was the intolerable pride and inso 
 
 VOL. I. — 2 I 
 
* INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Icnce of the old aristocratic families. These men were spell-bound 
 hy the charm of caste — the veriest slaves to conventional etiquette. 
 They built up a wall of demarcation between themselves and the rest 
 of the community, as if they were fashioned of more " precious por- 
 celain ;" held all the useful arls of life in lofty contempt; and were 
 *ealous of even the slightest whisper of opposition to their caprices. 
 While the mind of the whole Tiers-Hat was on the stir, tliey stood 
 (Stock still. The most unequivocal signs of the times they either per- 
 verted to their own advantage, or treated as portents of no accounL 
 Inordinately attached to freedom in theory — a passion engendered by 
 the writings of the philosophers — they repudiated the bare idea in 
 practice. As for anything like a middle class, they scorned to recog- 
 nise the existence of such a vulgarity — an insult which the men of 
 that class felt so keenly, that, by way of avoiding it, they used, when 
 they had the means of doing so, to purchase a patent of nobihty. 
 But this only made matters worse, for the old families became so 
 jealous of these Parvenus^ as they called them, that even when the 
 Revolution threatened to sweep away all orders of nobility into one 
 common grave, they could not be prevailed on to combine for their 
 mutual safety. In every stage of the grand crisis, up to the period of 
 their emigration, their motto was " no surrender." They were re- 
 solved rather to perish than degrade themselves by even a temporary 
 alliance with the nobles of mere yesterday ! 
 
 Extremes, it is said, meet ; but this was not the case as respects the 
 highest and lowest classes in France. The former held no kindly in- 
 tercourse with the latter ; and though possessing, in conjunction with 
 the clergy, two-thirds of the whole estates of the kingdom, yet they 
 were for the most part non-residents on their property, wastino- in the 
 dissipation of Paris those means which should have been employed 
 in ministering to the comforts and happiness of their dependants. 
 Having thus contrived to alienate the affections of the peasantry, 
 equally with the esteem and confidence of the middle classes, who 
 can be surprised that the nobility foundered, hke a leaky vessel, in the 
 very first hurricane of the Revolution ? 
 
 The ecclesiastical establishment of France was in the same diseased 
 state. All persons of plebeian birth were diligently excluded from its 
 dignities. However splendid might be their talents, and unsullied 
 their character, they were yet doomed to labour at the oar for life. 
 They withered — to quote the emphatic expression of Colonel Napierin 
 bis history of the Peninsular War — "beneath the cold shade of Aris- 
 tocracy." Hence, v/hen the great explosion took place, it had tlie 
 iympathies of all the humbler clergy, who supported the cause of 
 
INTRODUCTION. X* 
 
 freedom with the weight of their moral influence, ^nd did not witli- 
 draw from it, till it evinced symptoms of degenerating into anarch j. 
 
 In the army things were little better ordered. The abuses in the 
 distribution of the pay and the accoutrements of the different 
 regiments were notorious ; and while the spirit of innovation Ava3 
 making rapid headway among the soldiers, the higher officers were 
 enthusiastic in their admiration of the starch Prussian discipline. As 
 if this hobby were not sufficiently hazardous, these aristocratic marti- 
 nets procured the adoption of a regulation, which even Louvois would 
 never have dreamed of sanctioning, that a hundred years of nobility 
 was necessary to qualify an officer ! True, this order was rescinded 
 shortly after its promulgation, but it did not tend the less to inflame 
 the discontents of the untitled military. The French guards, in par- 
 ticular, who being in constant intercourse with the citizens of Paris, 
 soon caught the prevalent fever of innovation, warmly resented such 
 arbitrary conduct on the part of the heads of the army, and at the 
 breaking out of the Revolution were the very first to set the example 
 of defection. 
 
 "While all these nmllgn influences were at work, the grand struggle 
 for independence took place in America. This event startled France 
 hke a tliuiidcr-clap. Adieu now to all hope of escape from Revolu- 
 tion ! The heather is on fire, and nothing can check the progress of 
 the conflagration. Within the precincts of the palace, in the saloons 
 of fashion, and universally among the Ticrs-tiat^ nothing is talked of 
 but the gallantry of the transatlantic patrots. Washington is the hero — 
 Franklin tlie philosopher of the day. Carried away by the general 
 enthusiasm, and glad no doubt of such an opportunity of humbling 
 the pride, and increasing the difficulties of England — although his 
 private correspondence would seem to show otherwise — Louis XVI, 
 took the desperate resolution of supplying the insurgent colonies with 
 funds and troops. It M'as the misfortune of this prince, who possessed 
 many excellent private and public qualities, to do every thing with the 
 best intentions, and to succeed in nothing. " As for the King" — says 
 Mr. Carlyle in his eloquent analytical history of the Revolution — " he, 
 as usual, Avill go wavering cameleon-like, changing c'o'ir and pur- 
 pose with the colour of his environment — good for ' • I^ngly use.'* 
 This is well observed of Louis. He was as *' infirm »>f purpose" as 
 Macbeth, swayed now by the counsels of the Queen, .jow by those of 
 the Assembly, and giving in a bold adhesion to neith.«r. In assisting 
 the American rebels he took the most suicidal step that it was possible 
 for a monarch, situated as he was, to take ; for, when his troops re- 
 turned home — and they constituted the flower of the young noblesse 
 
XII INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and the army — they brought back with them opmions and feehnga 
 until then proscribed in France ; talked loudly of the duty of resist- 
 ance to despotic authority ; and thus gave an irreparable shock to the 
 tottering throne of Louis. The grand final shock, however, was given 
 by the derangement of the national finances, whose annual deficit, 
 amounting to above seven millions sterling, compelled the reluctant 
 monarch to summon the States-General, and thus admit the necessity 
 of a radical change in the Government — in other words, to sanction 
 those innovations which could not terminate otherwise than in Revo- 
 lution. 
 
 It is at thid period that M Thiers's history commences. The open- 
 ing portions of this work present a dramatic picture of the most 
 striking character. "We see in the foreground groups of rejoicino-, con- 
 stitutional patriots ; Mirabeau is there, with the eloquent leaders of the 
 Gironde, whom Dumouriez has styled, and not without justice, the 
 " Jesuits of the revolution ;" there, too, are Lafayette and Bailly, 
 men in whom a sincere monarch may have confidence ; but grimly 
 scowling in the back-ground — for the republican pear is not yet fully 
 ripe— lurk the frightful figures of Robespierre and the Hebertists, 
 biding their time to turn this scene of national exultation, into one ol 
 
 tears. and blood, despair and raging madness. But enough of this. 
 
 Ring the bell — draw up the curtain — and let the drama begin 
 
PREFACE 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
 I PURPOSE writing the history of a memorable revolution, which hag 
 prof(junJly agitated tlie minds of men, and which still continuea to 
 divide them. I disguise not from myself the difficulties of the under- 
 taking; for passions, which were supposed to have been stifled under 
 llie sway of military despotism, have recently revived. All at once 
 men bowed down by age and toil have felt resentments, which, accord- 
 ing to appearance were appeased, awaken within them, and they have 
 communicated them to us, their sons and heirs. But if we have to 
 uj)hold the same cause, we have not to defend their conduct, for we 
 can separate liberty from those who have rendered it service or dis- 
 service ; whilst we possess the advantage of having obsen^ed those 
 veterans, who, still full of their recollections, still agitated by their im- 
 pressions, reveal to us the spirit and the character of parties, and teach 
 us to comprehend them.* Perhaps the moment when the actors are 
 about to expire is the most proper for writing this history : we can col- 
 lect their evidence without participating in all their passions. 
 
 Be this as it may, I have endeavoured to stifle within my own bo- 
 som every feeling of animosity: I alternately figured to myself that, 
 born in a cottage, animated with a just ambition, I was resolved to ac- 
 
 • II 
 
 Tho people never revolt frora fickleness, or the mere desire of change. ( 
 b the impalieuce of suffering whicli alone has ihia effect." — Sully's Memoirs. E. 
 
Xl^ PREFACE 
 
 quire what the pride of the higher classes had unjustly refused me ; 
 or that, bred in palaces, the heir to ancient privileges, it was painful 
 to me to renounce a possession which I regarded as a legitimate pro- 
 perty. Thenceforward I could not harbour enmity against either 
 party ; I pitied the combatants, and I indemnified myself by admiring 
 generous deeds wherever I found them. 
 
HISTORY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 FRENCH REVOLUTION. 
 
 Every body is acquainted with the revolutions of the French mo- 
 narchy. It is well known that the Greeks, and afterwards the Romans, 
 introduced their arms and their civilization among the half savage 
 Gauls ; that subsequently the Barbarians established their military 
 hierarchy among them ; that this hierarchy, transferred from persona 
 to lands, struck root, as it were, and grew up into tlie feudal system. 
 Authority was divided between the feudal chief called king, and the 
 secondary chiefs called vassals, who in their turn were kings over their 
 own dependants. In our times, when the necessity for preferring mu- 
 tual accusations has caused search to be made for reciprocal faults, 
 abundant pains have been taken to teach us that the supreme authori- 
 tity was at first disputed by the vassals, which is always done by those 
 who are nearest to it ; that this authority was aftenvards divided 
 among them, which constituted feudal anarchy ; and that at length it 
 reverted to the throne, where it concentrated itself into despotism, 
 under Louis XI., Richelieu, and Louis XIV. 
 
 The French population had progressively enfranchised itself by in 
 dustry, the primary source of wealth and liberty. Though originally 
 agricultural, it soon devoted its attention to commerce and manufac- 
 tures, and acquired an importance that affected the entire nation. In- 
 troduced as a supplicant into the States-General, it appeared there in 
 no other posture than on its knees, in order to be grievously abused. 
 In process of time, even Louis XIV. declared that he would have no 
 more of these cringing assemblies ; and this he declared to the parlia- 
 ments, booted and whip in hand. Thenceforth were seen, at the head 
 of the state, a king clothed with a power ill defined in theory, but ab- 
 
16 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 solute in practice ; grandees who had rehnquished their feudal dig 
 nitj for tlie favour of the monarch, and who disputed by intrigue what 
 was granted to them out of the substance of the people ; beneatli them 
 an immense population, having no other relation to the court and tho 
 aristocracy than habitual submission and the payment of taxes. Be- 
 tween the court and the people were parliaments invested with the 
 power of administering justice and registering the roya! decrees. Au- 
 thority is always disputed. If not in the legitimate assemblies of the 
 nation, it is contested in the very palace of the prince. It is well 
 known that the parliaments, by refusing to register the royal edicts, 
 rendered them ineffective : this terminated in * a bed of justice' and a 
 concession when the kins: was weak, but in entire submission when 
 tlie king was powerful. Louis XIV. had no need to make concessions, 
 for in his reign no parliament durst remonstrate ; he drew the nation 
 along in his train, and it glorified him with the prodigies which itself 
 achieved in war and in the arts and sciences. The subjects and the 
 monarch were unanimous, and their actions tended towards one and 
 the same point. But no sooner had Louis XIV. expired, than the Re- 
 gent aftbrded the parliaments occasion to revenge themselves for their 
 long nullity. The will of the monarch, so profoundly respected in 
 his life-time, was violated after his death, and his last testament was 
 cancelled. Authority was then thrown into litigation, and a long strug- 
 gle commenced between the parliaments, the clergy, and the court, in 
 sight of a nation worn out with long wars and exhausted by supplying 
 the extravagance of its rulers, who gave themselves up alternately to a 
 fondness for pleasure and for arms. Till then it had displayed no skill 
 but for the service and the gratification of the monarch : it now began 
 to apply its intelligence to its own benefit and the examination of its 
 interests. 
 
 The human mind is incessantly passing from one object to anotlier. 
 From the theatre and the pulpit, French genius turned to the moral 
 and political sciences : all then became changed. Figure to yourself, 
 diH-ing a whole century, the usurpers of all the national rights quar- 
 relling about a worn-out authority; the parliaments persecuting the 
 clergy, the clergy persecuting the parliaments ; the latter disputing the 
 authority of the court ; the court, careless and calm amid this strui^fole, 
 squandering the substance of the people in the most profligate de- 
 bauchery ; the nation, enriched and roused, watching these disputes, 
 arming itself with the allegations of one party against the other, de- 
 prived of all political action, dogmatizing boldly and ignoratitly, be- 
 cause it Avas confined to theories ; aspiring, above all, to recover its 
 rank in Europe, and offering in vain its treasure and its blood to re- 
 gain a place v/hich it had lost through the weakness of its rulers. 
 Such was tlie eighteenth century.* 
 
 " " Since fha reign of tlie Roman emperors profligacy had never been conducted 
 .a so open and inidisgiiised a niaiiiier, as under Louis XV. and the Regent Orleans. 
 The reign oC Louis XV. is the most deplorable in French history. If we seek for 
 the characters who govarued the age, we must search tlic antechambers of the Duke 
 de Choiseul, or the boudoirs of Madame Pompadour or Du Barri. The whole 
 frame of society seemed to be discomposed. Statesmen were ambitious to fi<^uro as 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 17 
 
 The scandal had been carried to its height when Louis XVI., an 
 equitable prince, moderate in his propensities, carelessJy educated, but 
 naturally of a good disposition, ascended the throne at a very early 
 age. He called to his side an old courtier, and consigned to him 
 the care of his kingdom; and divided his confidence between Maurcpas 
 and the Queen, an Austrian princess, young, lively, and amiable,* who 
 possessed a complete ascendency over him. Maurepas and the Queen 
 were not good friends. The King, sometin:ies giving way to his minis- 
 ter, at others to his consort, began at an early period tlie long career 
 of his vacillations. AAvare of the state of his kingdom, he believed 
 the reports of the philosophers on that subject ; bur, brought up in tlie 
 most Christian sentiments, he felt the utmost aversion for tlicm. The 
 public voice, which was loudly expressed, called for Turgot, one of 
 the class of economists, an honest, vn-tuous man, endowed with firm- 
 ness of character, a slow genius, but obstinate and profound. Con- 
 vinced of his probity, delighted witli his plans of reform, Louis XVf. 
 frequently repeated : " There are none besides myself and Turgot 
 who are friends of the people." Turgot's reforms were thwarted by 
 the opposition of the highest orders in the state, who were interestt^d 
 m maintaining all kinds of abuses, which the austere minister pro- 
 [)osed to suppress. Louis XVL dismissed him with regret. During 
 his whole life, which was only a long martyrdom, he had tlie mortifi- 
 cation to discern what was i"ight, to wish it sincerely, but to lack the 
 energy requisite for carrying it into execution,! 
 
 The King, placed between the court, the parfiaments, and the peo- 
 ple, exposed to intrigues and to suggestions of all sorts, repeatedly 
 changed his ministers. Yielding once more to the public voice, and 
 to the necessity for reform, he summoned to the finance dcpartinent 
 Necker, a native of Geneva, who had amassed wealth as a banker, a 
 partisan and disciple of Colbert, as Turgot was of Sully ; an econo- 
 mical and upriglit financier, but a vain man, fond of setting himself up 
 for arbitrator in every tiling— philoso])hy, religion, liberty ; and, mis- 
 led by the praises of his friends and the public, flattering himself 
 that he could guide and fix the minds of others at that point at which 
 his own had stopped.^ 
 
 men of letters, men of letters as statesmen; the great seigneurs as bankers the 'ar- 
 mors-general as great seigneurs. The fuahions were as ridiculous as the arts were 
 misplaced." — Altso7i's French Revolution. E. 
 
 • " It is now sixteen or seventeen vcars since I saw the Queen of France at Vei 
 sallies, and surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more 
 delightful vision! I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and clieenug the eh 
 vatcd sphere she just began to move in, glittering hke the morning star, full of Lfe, 
 and splendour, and joy." — Burke's Rrflcctions. E. 
 
 t" Turgot, of whom Malesherbes said, ' lie has the head of Bacon and the heart 
 of ITIopital,' aimed at extensive reforms, and laboured to elfect that which the revo- 
 lution ultimately completed, the suppression of every species of servitude and ex 
 elusive privilege. But he had excited the ji.'alotisy of the courtiers by his refoims, 
 of the parliaments by the abolition of the corvces, and of 3Iaurepas by his ascendency 
 over the monarch." — Mignct. E. 
 
 X " J. Necker was the son of a tutor in the college of Geneva, rie began life at 
 a clerk to M. Thellusson, a banker at Paris, whoso partnei he afterwards became, 
 and in the course of tw^elve or fourteen years hi•^ fortune surpassed that of liie firal 
 bankers. He then thought of obtaining some place under governinent, but be tt 
 
 roL. I. 3. 1 
 
18 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Nccker re-establislicd order in the finances, and found means to de- 
 fray the heavy expenses of the American war. With a mind more 
 comprehensive, but less flexible, than that of Turcot, possessing more 
 particularly the confidence of capitalists, he found, for the moment, 
 unexpected resources, and revived public credit. But it required 
 something more than financial artifices to put an end to tlie embar- 
 rassments of the exchequer, and he had recourse to reform. He 
 found the higher orders not less adverse to him than they had been to 
 Turg-ot ; tlie parliaments, apprised of his plans, combined against him; 
 and obliged him to retire. 
 
 The conviction of the existence of abuses was universal ; every body 
 admitted it ; the King knew and was deeply grieved at it. The cour- 
 tiers, who derived advantage from these abuses, would have been glad 
 to see an end put to the embarrassments of the exchequer, but withou'; 
 its costing them a single sacrifice. They descanted at court on the 
 state of aftairs, and there retailed philosophical maxims ; they deplo- 
 red, Avhilst hunting, the oppressions inflicted upon the farmer ; nay, 
 they were even seen to applaud the enfranchisement of the Americans, 
 and to receive with honour the young Frenchmen who returned from 
 the New World-* The parliaments also talked of the interests of the 
 
 first aimed only at the office of first coirnTiissioner of finance, to attain which he en- 
 deavoured to acquire a literary reputation, and published a panegyric on Colbert. 
 Necker was begnining to enjoy some degree of reputation when Turgot was dis- 
 graced, and anxious to profit by tho dissipation in which the new minister, Clugny, 
 lived, he presented statements to M. de Manrepas in which he exaggerated the resour- 
 ces of the state. The rapid fortune of Necker induced a favourable opinion of his ca- 
 pacity, and after Clugny died he was united with his successor, M. Tabonreau des 
 Reaux, an appointment which he obtained partly by the assistance of the Marquis do 
 Pezay. After eight months' administration, Necker, on the 2d of July, 1777, com- 
 pelled his colleague to resign, and presented his accounts in 1781. Shortly after, he 
 endeavoured to take advantage of the pnbUc favour, and aspired to a place in the 
 council. He insisted on it, and threatened to resign ; but he was the dupe of his own 
 presumption, and was suffered to retire. In 1787 he returned to France, and wrote 
 against Calonne, who had accused him as the cause of the deficiency in the finances; 
 this dispute ended in the exile of Necker; but, in 1788, when the general displeasure 
 against Brienne terrified the court, he was again appointed controller-general, but, 
 feeling himself supported by the people, he refused to accept the post, unless on the 
 condition of not labouring in conjunction with the prime minister. Eager for popu- 
 lar applause, Necker hoped to govern every thing by leading the King to hope for 
 an increase of power, and the people for a speedy democracy, by the debasement of 
 the higher orders and the parliaments. The report which he made to the council on 
 the 27th of December, 1788, respecting the formation of the States-General, proved 
 the first spark which lighted the combustible matter that had long been prepared. 
 On the 11th of July, when tlie court thought fit to declare against the factions, Neck- 
 er, who had become absolutely their sentinel in the very council of the King, was 
 dismissed : but on the IGth the assembly wrote him a letter, expressing their regret 
 at his withdrawal, and informed him that they had obtained his recal. His return 
 from Dasle to Paris was one continued triumph. During the remainder of the 
 year he was constantly presenting new statements on the resources of the revenue; 
 but he soon perceived that his inHaence was daily dinnnishing. At last, the famous 
 Red Book appeared, and completely put an end to his popularity; so that in the 
 month of Decei;;ber he determined to fly, after having seen the popidace tear from 
 the gate of his h<.i(M;, the inscription, ' To the adored minister.' He died at Geneva 
 on the 9th of Apni, 1804, after a short but painful illness.'* — From a Memoir of 
 Necker in the Biographic MoOtync. E. 
 
 * " The American war was the great change which blew into a flame the ember* 
 of innovation. Such was the universal entluisiasm which seized upon France at its 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 19 
 
 people, loudly insisted on the sufferings of tlie poor, and yet opposed 
 the equalization of the taxes, as well as the abolition of the remanis 
 of feudal, barbarism. AU talked of tlie public weal, few desired it : and 
 the people, not yet knowing who were its true friends, applauded all 
 those who resisted power, its most obvious enemy. 
 
 By the removal of Turgot and Necker, the state of affairs was not 
 changed: the distress of the treasury remained the same. Those in 
 power would liave been willing to dispense, for a long time to come, 
 with the intervention of the nation, but it was absolutely necessary to 
 subsist — it was absolutely necessary to supply the profusion of the 
 court. The difficulty, removed for a moment by the dismissal of a 
 minister, by a loan, or by the forced imposition of a tax, appeared 
 again in an aggravated form, like every evil injudiciously nclected. 
 The coiirt hesitated, just as a man does who is compelled to take a 
 dreaded but an indispensable step. An intrigue brought forward M. 
 de Calonne, who was not in good odour with tlie public, because he 
 Iiad contributed to the persecution of La Chalotais. Calonne, clever, 
 brilliant, fertile in resources, relied upon his genius, upon fortune, and 
 upon men, and awaited the future with the most extraordinary apatliy. 
 It was his opinion that one ought not to be alarmed beforehand, or to 
 discover an evil till the day before that on Aviiich one intends to set 
 about repairing it. He seduced the court by his manners, touched it 
 by his eagerness to grant all that it required, afforded the King and 
 every body else some happier moments, and dispelled the most gloomy 
 presages by a gleam of prosperity and blind confidence.* 
 
 Tliat future which had been counted upon now approached : it be- 
 came necessary at length to adopt decisive measures. It was impos- 
 sible to burden the people with fresh imposts, and yet the coffers were 
 empty. There w^as but one remedy which c(uild be applied ; that was 
 to reduce the expenses by the suppre-ssion of grants ; and if tiiis expe- 
 dient should not suffice, to extend the taxes to a greater number of 
 contributors, that is, to the nobility and clergy. These plans, attempt- 
 ed successively by Turgot and Necker, and resumed by Calonne, 
 appeared to the latter not at all likely to succeed, unless the consent 
 ot" the privileged classes th.emselves could be obtained. Calonne, 
 therefore, proposed to collect them together in an assembly, to be called 
 the Assembly of the Notables, in order to lay his plans before them, 
 and to gain their consent either by address or by conviction. The as- 
 sembly was composed of distinguished members of the nobility, clergy, 
 and magistracy, of a great number of masters of requests and some 
 
 commencement, that nobles of the highest rank, princes, dukes, and marqnises, boII- 
 cited with impatient zeal commissions in the regiments destined to aid the insur- 
 gents. The passion for repiibhcan institutions increased with the successes of the 
 American war, and at lengtii rose to such a iieight as to infect even the courtiers Oi 
 the palace. The philosophers of France used every method of flattery to bring 
 over the young nobles to their side; and the profession ol" liberal opinions became 
 as indispensable a passport to the saloons of fashion as to the favour of the people " 
 — Alison's French Revolution. E. 
 
 * " To all the requests of the Q,neen, M. Calonne would answer, 'If what yoir> 
 majesty a^Us is possible, the thing is done ; if it is impossible, it ehall be done.' " 
 — Wcocr, Memoirs. E 
 
20 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 magi-strates of the provinces. By means of this composition, and 
 still more by the aid of the chief popular gentry and philosophers, 
 whom he had taken care to introduce into this assembly, Calonne 
 flattered himself that he should be able to carry his point. 
 
 The too confident minister was mistaken. Pubhc opinion bore 
 him a grudge for occupying the place of Turgot and Necker. De- 
 lighted'in particular that the iiiinister was obliged to render an account, 
 it supported the resistance of the Notables. Very warm discussions 
 ensued. Calonne did Avrong in throwing upon his predecessors, and 
 pnrtly on Necker, the existing state of the exchequer. Necker replied, 
 was exiled, and the opposition became the more obstinate. Calonne 
 met it Avith presence of mind and composure. He caused M. de 
 Miromenil, keeper of the seals, who was conspiring with tlie parlia- 
 ments, to be dismissed. But liis triumph lasted only two days. The 
 King, who was attached to him, had, in engaging to support him, 
 promised more than he could perform. He was shaken by the repre- 
 sentations of the Notables, who promised to sanction the plans of 
 Calonne, but on condition that a minister more moral and more deseiT- 
 ing of confidence should be appointed to carry tbem into execution. 
 Tiie Queen, at the suggestion of the Abbe de Vermont, proposed to 
 the King and prevailed on him to accept a new minister, M.de Brienne, 
 Archbishop of Toulouse, and one of the Notables who had contri- 
 ^^uted most to the ruin of Calonne, in hopes of succeeding him. 
 
 The Archbishop of Toulouse, a man of weak mind and obstinate 
 disposition, had from boyhood set his heart upon becoming minister, 
 and availed himself of all possible means in pursuing this object of 
 his wishes. He relied principally on the influence of women, whom 
 he strove to please, and in which he succeeded. He caused his ad- 
 ministration of Languedoc to be every where extolled. If, on attain- 
 ing tlie post of minister, he did not obtain the favour which Necker 
 had enjoyed, he had at least, in the eyes of the public, the merit of 
 surperseding Calonne. At first, he was not prime minister, but he 
 soon became so. Seconded by M. de Lamoignon, keeper of the 
 seals, an inveterate enemy to the parliaments, he commenced his ca- 
 reer with considerable advantages. The Notables, bound by the pro- 
 mises which they had made, readily consented to all that they liad at 
 first refused : land-tax, stamp-duty, suppression of the gratuitous ser- 
 vices of vassals, [corveca) provincial assemblies, were all cheerfully 
 granted. It was not these measures themselves, but their author, 
 whom they pretended to have resisted. Public opinion triumphed. 
 Calonne was loaded with execrations ; and the Notables, supported 
 by tlie public suffrage, nevertheless regretted an honour gained at the 
 cost of the greatest sacrifices. Had INI. de Brienne known how to profit 
 by the advantages of his position ; had he actively proceeded with the 
 execution of the measures assented to by the Notables; had he sub- 
 mitted them all at once and without delay to the parliament, at the 
 instant when the adhesion of the higher orders seemed to be wrung 
 from them ; all would probably have been over: the parliament, press- 
 H on aJl sides, would have consented to every thing, and this conces' 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 21 
 
 flic /I, thougli partial and forced, would probr.My have retarded for a 
 longtime the stru;:^gie which afterwards took place. 
 
 Notliing of the kind, however, was done. By imprudent delays oc- 
 casion was furnished for relapses ; the edicts were submitted only one 
 after another ; tlic parliament had time to discuss, to gain courage, 
 and to recover from the sort of surprise by which the Notables had been 
 taken. It rc'ristered, after loni; discussions, the edict eiiactin<T tiie 
 second abolition of the corvecsy and another permitting the free expor- 
 tation of corn. Its animosity was particularly directed against the 
 land-tax; but it feared lest by a refusal it should enlighten the public, 
 and show that its opposition was entirely selrtsh. It hesitated, wiicn 
 it was spared this embarrassment by the simultaneous presentation of 
 the edict on the stamp-duty and the land-tax, and especially by open- 
 ing the deliberations with tbe former. I'iie parliament had thus an 
 opportunity of refusing the tirst without entering into explanations res- 
 pecting the second ; and, in attacking the stamp-duty, which atVccted 
 the majority of the payers of taxes, it seemed to defend the interest of 
 the j)ublic. At a sitting which was attended by the peers, it denounced 
 the abuses, the profligacy, and the prodigality of the court, and de- 
 manded statements of expenditure. A councillor, punning upon the 
 itatSy (statements,) exclaimed, " Cc nc sont pas dcs ctats mais dcs etats- 
 generauT qiCU nous fauC — " Jt isnotstatements,but States-General that 
 we want." This unexpected demand struck every one with astonish- 
 ment. Hitherto people had resisted because they suftered ; they had 
 seconded all sorts of opposition, favourable or not to the popular cause, 
 provided they were directed against the court, which was blamed for 
 every evil. At the same time they did not well know what they ought 
 to demand : they had always been so far from possessing any influence 
 over tlie government, they had been so habituated to confine them- 
 selves to complaints, that they complained without conceiving the idea 
 of actino^, or of bringino- about a revolution. The utterance of a sin-de 
 word presented an unexpected direction to the public mind : it was re- 
 peated by every mouth, and States-General were loudly demanded. 
 
 D'Espremenil, a young councillor, a vehement orator, an agitator 
 without object, a demagogue in the parliaments, an aristocrat in the 
 States-General, and who was declared insane by a decree of the Con- 
 stituent Assembly — d'Espremenil showed himself on. this occasion 
 one, of the most violent paidiamentary dcclaimers. But the opposi- 
 tion was secretly conducted by Dupont, a young man of extraordinary 
 abilities, and of a firm and persevering character, tbe only one, per- 
 haps, who, amid these disturbances, had a specific object in view, 
 and was solicitous to lead his company, the court, and the nation, to 
 a very difl^'erent goal from that of a parliamentary aristocracy. 
 
 The parliament was divided into old and young councillors. The 
 first aimed at forming a counterpoise to the royal authority, in order 
 to give consequence to their company. The latter, more ardent and 
 more sincere, were desirous of introducing liberty into the state, yet 
 without overturning the political system under which they were born. 
 The parliament made an important admissiori ; it declared that it had 
 not the power to grant imposts, and that to the States-General alone 
 
22 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 belonged the right of estahhshing tliem ; and it required the King tc 
 communicate to it statements of the revenues and the expenditure. 
 
 This acknowledgment of incompetence and usurpation, for the 
 parhament had till then arrogated to itself the right of sanctioning 
 taxes, could not but excite astonishment. The prelate minister, irri- 
 tated at this opposition, instantly summoned the parliament to Ver- 
 sailles, and caused the two edicts to be registered in ' a bed of justice.' 
 The parliament, on its return to Paris, remonstrated, and ordered an 
 uiquiry into the prodigalities of Calonne. A decision in council 
 instantly annulled its decrees, and exiled it to Troyes. 
 
 Such was the state of affairs on the 15th of August, 17S7. The 
 King's two brothers. Monsieur and the Count d'Artois, were sent, the 
 one to the Court of Accounts, and the other to the Court of Aids, to 
 have the edicts registered tliere. The former, who had become popu- 
 lar on account of the opinions which he had expressed in the Assembly 
 of the Notables, was hailed with acclamations by an immense multi- 
 tude, and conducted back to the Luxembourg amidst universal 
 plaudits. The Count d'Artois, who was known to have supported 
 Calonne, was received with murmurs ; his attendants were attacked, 
 and it was found necessary to have recourse to the armed force. 
 
 The parliaments had around them numerous dependants, composed 
 of lawyers, persons holding situations in the palace, clerks, and stu- 
 dents ; an active bustling class, ever ready to bestir themselves in their 
 behalf. With these natural allies of the parliaments were united the 
 capitalists, who dreaded a bankruptcy ; the enlightened classes, who 
 were devoted to all the opposers of power ; and lastly, the nmltitude, 
 which always sides with agitators. Serious disturbances took place, 
 and the supreme authority had great difficulty to suppress them. 
 
 1'he parhament sitting at Troyes met every day and called causes. 
 Neither advocates nor solicitors appeared, and justice was suspended, 
 as it had been so many times during the preceding century. Mean- 
 while the magistrates became weary of their exile, and M. de Brienue 
 was without money. He boldly maintained that he did not want any, 
 and tranquillized the court, uneasy on this single point ; but, destitute 
 of supplies, and incapable of putting an end to his difficulties by an 
 energetic resolution, he entered into negotiation with some of the mem- 
 bers of the parliament. His conditions were a loan of four hundred 
 and forty millions (of livres,) payable by instalments, in four years, at 
 the expiration of which the States-General should be convoked. At 
 this rate Brienne was w illing to renounce the two imposts, the objects 
 of so much discord. Having made sure of some members, he ima- 
 gined that he was sure of the whole company, and the parliament waa 
 recalled on the 10th of September. 
 
 A royal sitting was held on the 20th of the same month. The King 
 rt^ent in person to present the edict enacting the creation of the suc- 
 cessive loan and the convocation of the Stiites-Ceneral in live years. 
 No explanation had been given respecting the nature of this sittino-, 
 and it was not known whether it was * a bed of justice' or not. The 
 looks of the members were gloomy, and a profound silence prevailed, 
 when the Duke of Orleans rose with agitated coujitenance and all the 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION 23 
 
 signs of strong emotion ; lie addressed the King, and asked liim if 
 this sitting were ' a bed of justice,' or a free dehberation. "It is a 
 royal sitting," replied the King. The councillors Freteau, Sabatier, 
 and d'Espremcnil, spoke after the Duke of Orleans, and declaimed 
 with their usual violence. The registration was immediately enforced : 
 Freteau and Sabatier were exiled to the Iliercs Islands, and the Duke 
 of Orleans to Villers-Cotterets. The States-General were postponed 
 for five years. 
 
 Such were the principal events of the year 17S7. The year 17S3 
 commenced with fresh hostilities. On the fourth of January tlie par- 
 liament passed a decree against lettrcs dc cachet^ and for tbe rccal of 
 exiled persons. The Iving cancelled this decree ; the parliament con- 
 firmed it anew. 
 
 Meanwihle the Duke of Orleans, banished to Yillcrs-Cottcrets, 
 could not endure his exile. This prince, in rpiarrelling with the court, 
 bad reconciled himself Avitli public opinion, which was at first unfa- 
 vourable to him. Destitute alike of the dignity of a prince and the 
 firmness of a tribune,* he was incapable of enduring so slight a puii- 
 
 * " Louis-Philippe-Joseph, Duke of Orleans, one of the French princes of the hlood, 
 was bora at St. Cloud on the 13lh of April, ]747,aiiii rendered the title of Due de 
 Chartn^s, which he bore till hi? father's death, celebrated by his depravity. lie was in 
 stature below the middle .size, but very well made, and his features were rcgul.ir and 
 pleasing, till libertinism and debauchery covered them with red, inflamed pustules. 
 He was very early bald; was skilled in all boddy exercises; kind and compassion- 
 ate in his domestic relations, and endowed with good natural abilities, though igno 
 rant and credulous. As lie was to succeed the Due de Penthievre in the ollice of 
 high admiral, he thought lit, in 1778, to make a naval campaign, and connnanded the 
 rearguard of M. d'Orvilliers' lleet in the battle olfUsliant, in which he was on board 
 an 84-;riiu ship. It was then assiduously naiioured that the Due de Cliartres had 
 concealed himself in the hold of the ship ; which seems improbable, as the vijssel in 
 which he was, was never within reach of the cannon. The court, however, took up 
 this injurious anecdote, and, when he appeared, overwhelmed him with epigrams ; the 
 King too, instead of making him high admiral, appointed him colonel-general of tho 
 hussars — a singular and contemptuous reward lor sea-service, which is said to have 
 partly laid the foundation of his hatred for Louis. Some time afterwards he ascendec 
 m a balloon ; and as a few years before he had gone down into a mine, where he waj 
 said to have sliown but little self-possession, it was stated that he had thought proper 
 to show all the elements his cowardice. On the death of the Comte de Clermont hs 
 got himself appointed master of a'l the masonic lodges in France. In 1787 his father 
 died, and he then took the title of Duke of Orleans, and sought to render himself 
 popular. By the advice of his creatures e opposed the ICing in the royal meeting on 
 the I'Jlhof November, 1787, and wase.\.. xl to Villers-Cotterets ; but in n-turn for the 
 sums he lavished on the journalists, he soon became the idol of the popidace. Ano- 
 ther method which he successfully put in practice to obtain the favour of the peo- 
 ple, was to buy up corn, and then relieve those who were languishing under the artifi- 
 cial scarcity. In 1788-9, public tables were spread and tires lighted, by his order, for 
 the paupers of the metropolis, and sums of money were likewise di-:tributed among 
 tliem. In the very earliest meetings, he protested against the proceedings of his 
 chamber, and joined that of \\\>it'icrs-(:lat, with the dissentient members of his ordoi. 
 From this period he divided his lime between the meetings of the national oss.-mbly 
 and those of his own advisers, who assembled first at the Palais Royal, and afterwards 
 at Passy. On the !W of July he was imminated president ol" the national assembly ; 
 but he refused the post, a)id busied himself in corrupting the regiment of French 
 gn.Hrds, and in preparing the events of July tlie 14th. Lafayette having menaced 
 him with the tribunals if he did not leave France, he_weiit over to England ; but at the 
 end of eight months returned, and was received with transport by the Jacobins, la 
 J7U1 M. Thevenard, before he resigned the adnuuistratiou of the marine, caused the 
 
24 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 ishment, and, in order to obtain his recal, he descended to solicitation* 
 even to th(? Queen, liis personal enemy. 
 
 Brienne was exasperated by obstacles witliout possessmg energy tc 
 to overcome them, l^ceble in Europe against Prussia, to winch he 
 sacrificed Holland— feeble in France against the parliament and the 
 grandees of the state— he had now no supporter but tlic Queen, and, 
 moreover, was frequently checked in his operations by ill liealth. tie 
 neitlier knew how to suppress insurrection nor how to enforce the re- 
 trenchments decreed by the King; and, notwithstanding the rapidly 
 approacbiiig exhaustion of the exchequer, he aifccted an inconceiva- 
 ble security. Meanwhile, amidst all these difficulties, he did not 
 neglect to obtain new benefices for himself, and to heap new dignities 
 U])on his family. 
 
 Lamoignon, the keeper of the seals, a man of a stronger mmd but 
 possessing less influence than the Archbishop of Toulouse, concerted 
 with him a new plan for accomplishing the principal object, that of 
 destroying the political power of the parliaments. It was of import- 
 ance to keep it secret. Every thing was prepared in silence : private 
 letters were sent to the commandants of the provinces ; the office 
 where the edicts were printed was surrounded with guards. It was 
 intended that tlie plan should not be known till the moment of its 
 communication to the parliaments. That moment approached, and 
 it was rumoured that an important political act Avas in preparation. 
 D'Espremenil, the councillor, contrived to procure a copy of the 
 edicts, by bribing one of the printer's men ; he then repaired to the 
 palace, summoned his colleagues to assemble, and boldly denounced 
 the plans of the minister. 
 
 According to this plan, the too extensive authority of the parliament 
 of Paris was to be abridged, by the establishment of six great baillages 
 
 dnke to be appointed admiral of France, for which the latter went to thank the King 
 in person, and to assure him how grossly he had been misrepresented. When, how- 
 ever, he appeared at the levee, all the courtiers insulted him in the most outrageous 
 manner, to whi':h he would never be persuaded that their majesties wore not privy, 
 and this excited his irreconcilable enmity against them. On the ].'')th of September, 
 1792, the commune of Paris authorized him to assume the name of Egalite for himsell 
 and his descendants, and deputed him to the national convention. When the King's 
 trial took place, the Duke oi Orleans voted for the death of his cousin with a degree 
 of coolness wliich irritated the majority of the Jacobins themselves, and excited 
 murmurs throughout the assembly. On ihe fatal day he came to the Place de Louia 
 XV., and was prcseiit during the execution in an open carriage ; as soon as the body 
 was removed, he retiuned to the Palais Royal, and went in a carriage drawn by six 
 horses to revel at Raincy wilh his accomplices. It was then said that the Prince ot 
 Wales, having been informed of his conduct onthis occasion, tore in pieces his por- 
 trait, which he had left him. Towards the end of April, Robespierre caused iiis 
 name to be erased from the list of Jacobins, though Egalite had sworn to the Con- 
 vention, on the 4tli of the same month, that if his son, (the presentKingof France,) who 
 had just fled with Uumouriez, was guilty, tlic image of Brutus, which was before 
 his eyes, would remind liim of his duty. Soon afterwards a warrant was issued for 
 his arrest; he was removed to the prison of Marseilles, and, after six months' capti- 
 vity, sent to t.ike his trial at Paris. As a matter of course, the revolutionary tribunal 
 found him guilty, and he was guillotined on the Gth of November, 1793, wheu he 
 was forty-six years of age. He shrugged his shoulders on hearing the people hisa 
 and curse him as he was led to dealh, and cried out, 'They used to applaud ma ' " 
 Froui an article in the Biographie Modernc. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTIOx\. 25 
 
 in its jurisdiction. Tlie power of judging without appeal, and of re- 
 gistering tlie laws and edicts, Avas to be transferred to a plenary court, 
 composed of peers, prelates, magistrates, and military officers; 
 all appointed by the king. Even the captain of the guard was to have 
 a dehbcrativc voice in it. This phm attacked the judicial authority of 
 tlic parliament, and utterly annihilated its political power. The com- 
 pany, struck with consternation, knew not what course to pursue. It 
 could not deliberate upon a plan which had not been submitted to it; 
 at the same time it was of importance that it should not sutler itself to 
 be taken by surprise. In this cnd)arrassment it had recourse to an 
 exjiedient at once firm and adroit, — that of recapitulating and con- 
 firming in a decree all that it called constitutional laws of the mo- 
 narchy, taking care to include in the number its own existence and 
 rights. By this general measure it by no means forestalled the sup- 
 posed projects of the government, and secured all that it wished to 
 secure. 
 
 In consequence, it was declared, on the 5lh of IMay, by the parlia- 
 ment of Paris : 
 
 " That France was a monarchy governed by a king, according to 
 the laws ; and that among these laws, several, \\'hich were fundamen- 
 tal, emi)raced and consecrated : 1. The riuht of the reiirninu: house 
 to the throne, from male to nuile, in the order of primogeniture ; '2. The 
 right of the nation to grant subsidies freely through the oi^gan of the 
 States-General, regularly convoked and composed ; 3, The customs 
 and caj)itulalions of the provinces ; 4. The i)-renioveability of the 
 magistrates ; 5. The right of the courts to verify in each province the 
 edicts of the king, and not to order the registration of them, unless 
 they were conformable to the constituti\'e laws of tlie province, as well 
 as to tlie fundamental laws of the state ; G. The right of each citi/.en 
 not to be tried in any maimer by other than his natural judges, who 
 were those appointed by the law ; and, 7. The right, without which all 
 the others were useless, of not being arrested by any order whatever, 
 unless to be delivered without delay into the hands of competent jutlges. 
 The said court protested against all attacks wliich might be made upon 
 the principles above expressed." 
 
 ^I'o this energetic resolution the minister rc])lie<?l in the usual way, 
 always injudieious and inetfectual — he adopted violent measures 
 agaiust some of the members of the parliament. D'Espremenil and 
 Goislart de IMonsalbert, being apprized that they were threatened, 
 sought refuge amidst the assembled parliament. An officer, A'incent 
 d'Agoult, repaired thither at the head of a company; and, not Know- 
 ing the persons of the magistrates designated, he called then» by theii 
 names. The deepest silence at first pervaded the assembly : all the 
 councillors then cried out that they were d'Espremenil. At length 
 the real d'Espremenil declared who he was, and followed the officer 
 ordered to arrest him. The tumult was then at its height; the popu- 
 lace accompanied the magistrates, hailing them with shouts of ap- 
 plause. Three days afterwards, the King, in a bed of justice, caused the 
 edicts to be registered, and the assembled princes and peers exhibited 
 an image of that plenary court which was to succeed the parliaments. 
 
 VOL. I. — 4. 3 
 
26 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 The Chatelet immediately issued a decree against the edicts. Tha 
 parhament of Reiines declared all who should belong to the plenary 
 court infamous. At Grenoble, the inhabitants defended their magis- 
 trates against two regiments. The troops themselves, excited to disobe- 
 dience by the military noblesse, soon refused to act. When the com- 
 mandant of Dauphine assembled his colonels, to inquire if their soldiers 
 were to be relied, upon, all of them kept silence. The youngest, who 
 was to speak first, replied that no rehance was to be placed on his, 
 from the colonel downwards. To this resistance the minister opposed 
 decrees of the great council, which cancelled the decisions of the 
 sovereign courts, and he punished eight of them with exile. 
 
 The court, annoyed by the higher orders, which made war upon itia 
 espousing the interests of the people and calling for their interference, 
 had recourse, on its part, to the same means. It resolved to summon 
 the tiers-etat (the third estate) to its aid, as the kings of France had 
 formerly done to break up the feudal system. It then urged, with all 
 its might, the convocation of the States-General. It ordered investi- 
 gations respecting the mode of their assembling ; it called upon wri- 
 ters and learned bodies to give their opinions ; and, wliilst the assem- 
 bled clergy declared on its part that a speedy convocation was desira- 
 ble, the court, accepting the challenge, suspended at the same time the 
 meeting of the plenary court, and fixed the opening of the States- 
 General for the first of May, 1789. Tlien followed the retirement of 
 the Archbishop of Toulouse, who, by bold plans feebly executed, had 
 provoked a resistance, which he ought either not to have excited or to 
 have overcome. And on quitting oflice he left the exchequer in dis- 
 tress — the payment of the rentes of the Hotel de Vilie suspended — all 
 the authorities in hostility — all the provinces in arms. As for himself, 
 possessing an income of eight hundred thousand francs from bene- 
 fices, tlie archbishopric of Sens, and a cardinal's hat, if he did not 
 make the public fortune, he at least made his own. By his last piece 
 of advice he recommended to the King to recal Necker to the ministry 
 of the finances, that he might fortify himself with his popularity 
 against oppositions wliich had become unconquerable. 
 
 It was durijig the two years 1787 and 1788 that the French were 
 desirous to pass from vain theories to practice. The struggle between 
 the highest authorities excited the wish, and furnished the occasion, to 
 do so. During the whole course of the century, the parliament had 
 attacked the clergy, and exposed its ultramontane predilections. Af- 
 ter the clergy, it had attacked the court, condemned its abuses of pow- 
 er, and denounced its extravagance. Threatened w^ith reprisals, and 
 attacked, in its turn, in its existence, it had at length just restored to 
 tlie nation prerogatives which the court would have wrested from it 
 for the purpose of transferring them to an extraordinary tribunal. 
 After having thus apprized the nation of its rights, it had exerted its 
 energies in exciting and protecting insurrection. On the other hand, 
 the high clergy in delivering their charges, the nobility in fomentin<» 
 the disobedience of the troops, had joined their efforts to those of the 
 magistracy, and summoned the people to arms in behalf of their pri 
 ileges. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 27 
 
 The court, pressed by these various enemies, had made but a feeble 
 resistance. Aware of the necessity of acting, yet always deferring 
 the moment for doing- so, it had at times abohslied some abuses, rath- 
 er for the benefit of the exchequer than of the people, and then sank 
 again into inactivity. At length, finding itself attacked on all sides, 
 observing that the higher orders were calling the people into the hsts, 
 it resolved to introduce them there itself by convoking the States- 
 General. Hostile during the whole of the century to the pliilosophic 
 spirit, it now appealed to the latter, and submitted the constitutions of 
 the kin^rdom to its investig-ation. Thus the first authorities of the 
 state exhibited the singular spectacle of usurpers disputing the pos- 
 session of an object before the face of the rightful owner, and at last 
 even calling upon him to act as judge between them. 
 
 Such was the state of affairs when Necker returned to the ministry. 
 Confidence followed him; credit was instantly restored ; the most ur- 
 gent difficulties were removed. He provided, by means of expedients, 
 for indispensable expenses, till tlie meeting of the States-General, the 
 remedy that was universally called for. 
 
 The great questions relative to their organization began to be dis- 
 cussed. Jt was asked what part the tiers-etat would have to act there; 
 whether it would appear as an equal or a supplicant ; whether it 
 would obtain a representation equal in number to that of the twc 
 liigher orders ; whether the discussions would be carried on by indivi- 
 duals or by orders ; and whether the tiers would not have merely a sin- 
 gle voice against the two voices of the nobility and clergy. 
 
 The first question discussed was tliat relative to the number of the 
 deputies. Never had philosophiccontroversy of the eighteenth century 
 excited such agitation. People's minds became warmed by the positive 
 importance of the question. A keen, concise, energetic writer, took, 
 in this discussion, that place which the greatest geniuses of the age 
 had occupied in the philosophical discussions. The Abbe Sieyes, in a 
 book which gave a powerful impulse to the public mind, asked tliis 
 question : " What is the tiers-ttat V And he answered : *' Nothing." 
 — " What ought it to be?" — " Every thing."* 
 
 The states of Dauphine assembled in spite of the court. The two 
 higher orders, more adroit and more popular in that country than any 
 where else, decided that the representation of the third estate should be 
 
 • " Bonaparte said to me one day, ' That fool Sieyes is as credulous as a Cassaa- 
 dra.' In the iutercourfie, not very frequent certainly, which I had with him, he 
 appeared to be far beneath the reputation wliich he had acquired. He reposed a 
 blind confidence in a multitude of agents, wliomhe had sent into all parts of France. 
 Sieyes had written in his countenance, ' (jive nie money.' I recollect that I one day 
 alluded to this expression in the anxious fiice of Sieyes to the first consul. ' You 
 are right,' observed he to me, smilin<?, ' when money is in question, Sieyes is quite a 
 matter-of-fact man. He sends iiis ideolon;y to the right about, and thus becomes 
 easily manageable. He readily abandons his conslitutional dreams for a good round 
 sum, and tliat is very convenient.' RI. de Talleyrand, who is so capable ofestimating 
 men, and whose admirable sayings well deserve to occupy a place in history, had 
 long CMitertained an indilferent ojiinion of Sieyes. One day, when he was conversing 
 with the second consul concerning him, Cambaceres said : * Sieyes, however, is a 
 rery profound man.' 'Profound!' said Talleyrand, 'yes, he is a cavity a perfttrt 
 cavity, aa you would say.' " — Dourrienne's Memoirs of Napoleon. E. 
 
28 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 equal to that of the nobihty and the clergy. The parhament of Parit, 
 foreseeing ah-eady the consequence of its improvident provocations, 
 perceived plainly that the tkrs-etat was not coming in as auxiliary, 
 but as master ; and, in registering the edict of convocation, it enjoined, 
 as an express clause, the maintenance of the forms of 1614, which 
 reduced the third order to a mere cipher. Having already rendered 
 itself unpopular by the difficulties which it had throwai in the way of 
 the edict that restored civil rights to Prostestants, it was on that day 
 completely unmasked, and the court fully revenged. It was the first 
 to experience the instability of popular favour ; but, if at a later pe- 
 riod the nation might appear ungrateful towards chiefs whom it forsook 
 one after another, on tliis occasion it had good reason to turn its back 
 on the parliament, for that body stopped short before the nation had 
 recovered any of its rights. 
 
 The court not daring to decide these important questions itself, or 
 rather desirous of depriving the two higher orders of their popularity 
 for its own benefit, asked their opinion, wdth the intention of not adopt- 
 ing it, if, as it was probable, that opinion should be unfavourable to the 
 fiers-etat. It summoned therefore a new Assembly of Notables, in 
 which all the questions relative to the holding of States-General were 
 brou'dit forward. The discussions were warm : on the one hand, 
 great stress was laid on ancient traditions ; on the other, on natural 
 rights and reason. Even in going back to traditions, the cause of the 
 tiers-etat still had the advantage ; for, in opposition to the forms of 
 1614 demanded by the higher orders, forms yet more ancient were 
 adduced. Thus, in certain assemblies, and on certain points, the 
 members had voted individually ; sometimes they had deliberated by 
 provinces, not by orders ; frequently the deputies of the tiers had 
 equalled in numlDer the deputies of the nobility and clergy. Why 
 then refer to ancient usages'? Had not the powers of the state been 
 in a continual revolution ? The royal authority, at first sovereign, then 
 vanquislied and despoiled, raising itself again with the aid of the 
 people, and again uniting all the powers in its own hands, exhibited 
 a perpetual conflict and an ever-changing position. The clergy 
 were told, that if they were to take ancient times for their standard, 
 they would cease to be an order ; the nobles, that the possessors of fiefs 
 only were qualified to be elected, and that thus most of them would be 
 excluded from the deputation ; the parliaments tliemselves, that they 
 were but unfaithful officers of royalty ; lastly, all were assured that 
 the French constitution had been but one loiiir revolution, diu'inir 
 which each power had successively predominated ; that every thing 
 had been innovation, and that amid this vast conflict it was for reasofi 
 alone to decide. 
 
 The tiers-eiat comprehended nearly the whole nation, all the use 
 ful, industrious, enlightened classes. If it possessed but a portion of 
 the lands, at least it wrought them all ; and according to reason, il 
 was not too much to allow to it a number of deputies equal to that of 
 the two other orders. 
 
 The Assembly of Notables declared itself against what was called 
 the doubling of the third estate. One of the government ofiices, that 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 29 
 
 over which Monsieur, the king's brother, presided, voted for ihiA 
 doubhng.* The court, then, taking, as it said, into consideration the 
 opinion of the minority, the sentiments expressed by several princes of 
 the blood, the wishes of the three orders of Daiiphine, the demand of 
 the provincial assemblies, the example of several countries of tiie Kiiif^- 
 doni, the opinion of various jjublic writers, and the recommendations 
 contained in a great numl)er of addresses — the court ordained, that the 
 total niunber oftlie deputies should be at least a thousand ; tliat it 
 should be formed in a ratio composed of thepopulation and the amount 
 of taxes paid by each baiUagc, and that the number of the deputies of 
 the ticrs-ttat should be equal to that of tlie oilier two orders united. 
 
 This declaration excited universal enthusiasm. As it \vas attributed 
 to Necker, it raised him in the favour of the nation, and gained him 
 the increased enmity of the great,! Still it decided nothing as to- the 
 vote by individuals or by orders, but it included it by implication ; 
 for it was useless to augment the number of votes if iliey were not to 
 be counted ; and it left the ticrs-clat to seize by main force what was 
 refused to it at the moment. It therefore conveyed an idea of the weak- 
 ness of the court, and of JVecker himself. That court included an 
 assemblage of inclinations which rendered any decisive result imjios- 
 siblo. The King was moderate, equitable, studious, and too distrust- 
 ful of his own abilities ; loving the i)eopIe, and readily listening to 
 their complaints, lie was nevertheless seized at times wi.h su- 
 perstitious terrors, and fancied that he beheld anarchy and impiety 
 marching hand in hand with liberty and toleration. The ])hilosophic 
 spirit in its first flights could not but commit extravagances, and a timid 
 and religious king could not hel[) being alarmed at them. Overcome, 
 at every step, by weakness, terror, and uncertainty, the unfortunate 
 Louis XVI. resolved for his own part to make every sacrifice. Not 
 knowing how to impose such conduct on others, the victim of his in- 
 dulirence for the court, of his condescension to the Queen, he expiated 
 all the faults which he had not committed, but which became his own 
 because he winked at their commission. The Queen, engrossed by- 
 pleasure, dazzling all around her by her charms, w^as desirous that 
 her husband should enjoy tranquillity, that the exchequer should be 
 full, that the court and her subjects should adore her.| Sometimes 
 
 * "This resolution was carried by the single casting vote of Monsieur, who was 
 afterwards Louis XVIIL Wlien it was reported to Louis XVL, he observed, ' Let 
 theui add mine, I give it willingly.' " — Labainne. E. 
 
 t " Tlie concessions of Neci<er were those of a man ignorant of the first principles 
 of the government of mankind. It was he wlio overturned the monarchy, and 
 brought Louis XVL to the scaiVoId. I\Iarat, Danton, Robespierre himself, did less 
 n)ischief to France. Necker was the antiior of all the evils which desolated Frajico 
 during the Revolution; all the blood that was shed rests on his head." — Bourriennc's 
 Memoirs of Ntipolcun. E. 
 
 X Madame le J}nni, tlie celebrated painter, in her Memoirs, written by herself, drawa 
 the following picture of this [iriiicess: 
 
 " It was in the year 1779 that I painted for the first time the portrait of the Queen, 
 then in the flower of her yotilh and beauty, Marie Antoinoito was ta,l exquisitely 
 well made, sulliciently pliuup without being too much so. llerartji-t vei < superb, 
 her hands small, perfect iu form, and her feel cliarming. Her gait wa-s rrie grace- 
 ful than that of any woman iu France ; she held her head very erect, vvftn n uiGJ'Jst;y 
 
30 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 she coiicuiTed with the King for the purpose of effecting reforms, 
 when the necessity for them appeared urgent. At others, on the con- 
 trary, when she conceived the supreme authority to be threatened, and 
 her court friends despoiled, she stopped the King, removed the popu- 
 lar ministers, and destroyed at once tlie means and hopes of improve- 
 ment. She yielded more especially to the influence of a portion of 
 the nobility who lived around the throne, fattening on favours and 
 abuses. This court nobility was solicitous, no doubt, like the Queen 
 herself, that the King should have wherewithal to supply a lavish pro- 
 fusion ; and from this motive it was inimical to the parliaments when 
 they refused taxes, but became their ally when they defended its pri- 
 vileges, by refusing, under specious pretexts, the territorial impost. 
 Amidst these contrary influences, the King, not daring to face difficul- 
 ties, to condemn abuses, or to suppress them authoritatively, gave way 
 by turns to the court and to public opinion, without satisfying either. 
 If, during the course of the eighteenth century, when the philoso- 
 phers, assembled in an alley of the Tuileries, wished success to Fre- 
 derick and the Americans, to Turgot and Necker — if, when they did 
 not yet aspire to govern the state, but merely to enlighten princes, and 
 foresaw at most the distant revolutions which the signs of disquietude 
 and the absurdity of existing institutions fully authorized them to ex- 
 pect — if the king had spontaneously established some equality in the 
 official appointments, and given some guarantees, all discontent would 
 have been appeased for a long time, and Louis XVI. would have been 
 as much adored as was Marcus Aurelius.* But when all the autho- 
 rities had been debased by along struggle, and all the abuses unveiled 
 by an Assembly of Notables ; when the nation, called into the quar- 
 rel, had conceived the hope and the will to be something, that will be- 
 
 whlch enabled you to distinguish the sovereign amidst all her court, and yet that 
 majesty did not in the least detract from the extreme kindness and benevolence of her 
 look. In sliort, it is extremely difficult to convey to any one who has not seen the 
 Q,ueen, any idea of all the graces and all the dignity that were combined in her. Her 
 features were not regular ; she derived from her family that long, narrow oval, pe- 
 culiar to the Austrian nation. Her eyes were not large; their colour was nearly blue, 
 and they had an intellectual and mild expression ; her nose was thin and handsome^ 
 her mouth not too large, though the lips were rather thick. But the most remark- 
 able thing about her face was the brilliancy of her complexion. I never saw any so 
 brilliant — yes, brilliant is tiie word — for her skin was so transparent that it took n© 
 shade. Ilonce I never could render its effect so as to please myself; I lacked colours 
 to represent that freshness, those delicate tones, which belonged exclusively to that 
 fascinating face, and which I never observed in any other woman. As for her con- 
 versation, it would be diflicult for me to describe all its grace, all its benevolence. I 
 do not think tliat the Queen JMarie Antoinette ever missed an occasion to say an agree- 
 able tiling to those who had the honour to approach her. During the first sitting 
 that I had of her majesty on her return from Foiitainebleau, I ventured to remark to 
 the (ineen how much the erectness of her bead heightened the dignity of her look. 
 She answered, in a tone of pleasantry, ' If I were not a Queen, people would say 
 that I have an insolent look — would they not?' " E. 
 
 * "The life of JMarcua Aurelius was the noblest commentary on the precepts of 
 Zeno. He was severe to himself, indulgent to the imperfection of olher.«i. just and 
 beneficent to all mankind. War he detested, as the disgrace and calamity of human 
 nature. His memory was revered by a grateful posterity, and, above a century aflef 
 nw death, many persons preserved his image among those of their household goda." 
 Gibbon's Rome. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 31 
 
 came imperative. The States-General was promised to the nation; it 
 demanded that an early time sliouldbe fixed tor their convocation ; when 
 that time was near at hand, it insisted on t]ie preponderance in them : 
 this was refused, but, in the doubling of the representation, it was fur- 
 nislied Avith the means of conquering that preponderance. Tims the 
 government never yielded but partially, and when it could no longer 
 resist ; but then the strength of tlie nation had increased, it was 
 aware of its power, and required all that it conceived itself capable of 
 accornphshing. A continual resistance, irritating its ambition, must 
 soon have the effect of renderini;: it insatiable. But even then, if a 
 great minister, communicating somewhat of energy to the King, con- 
 ciliating the Queen, bridling the privileged classes, had anticipated 
 and satisfied at once the national expectations by giving of his own 
 accord a free coustitution ; if he had gratified the impulse to act 
 which the nation then felt, by summoning it immediately, not to re- 
 form the state, but to discuss its annual interests in a ready constituted 
 state — perhaps the conflict would not have taken place. But it would 
 have been absolutely necessary to meet the difficulty instead of giv- 
 ing way to it, and above all to sacrifice numerous pretensions. It 
 would have required a man of strong conviction, and possessing a re- 
 solution equal to his conviction ; and this man, no doubt, bold, ener- 
 getic, perhaps passionate, would have akirmed the court, which desir- 
 ed no such person. In order to spare at one and the same time the 
 public opinion and the old interests, the king had recourse to half 
 measures, lie selected, as we have seen, a half-philosophic, half-ener- 
 getic minister, and who possessed ininiense popularity, because, at that 
 time, dcmi-popular intentions in an agent of power surpassed all 
 hopes, and excited the enthusiasm of a people, whom the demagogue 
 spirit of its leaders was very soon afterwards incapable of satisfying. 
 JMen's minds were in a universal ferment. Assemblies were form- 
 ed throughout France, like those of England, and called by the same 
 name, that of clubs. Nothing was discussed in them but the abuses 
 to be abolished, the reforms to be effected, and the constitution to be 
 estabhshed. A rigid inquiry ijito the state of the country produced 
 irritation. Its state, political and economical, was in truth intolera- 
 ble. There was nothing but privileges belonging to individuals, clas- 
 ses, towns, provinces, and to trades themselves ; nothing but shackles 
 upon the industry and genius of man. Civil, ecclesiastical, and mili- 
 tary dignities, were exclusively reserved for certain classes, and in 
 those classes for certain individuals. A man could not embrace a pro- 
 fession unless upon certain titles and certain pecuniary conditions. 
 The towns possessed their privileges for the apportioning the assess- 
 ment, and the levying of taxes, and for the choice of magistrates. 
 The very pensions converted by the survivors into family properties, 
 scarcely allowed the monarcli to show any preferences. He had 
 nothing left to his disposal but a few pecuniary gifts, and he had even 
 been obliged to quarrel with the Duke de Coigny about the aboIitiOL 
 of a useless place.* All was therefore monopolized by a few handh, 
 
 * See Boiling's MCmoires. 
 
32 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 and the burdens bore upon a sin2:le class. The nobihty and the cler- 
 gy possessed nearly two thirds of the landed property. The other 
 third, belonging to the people, paid taxes to the king, a multitude 
 of feudal dues to the nobihty, the tithe to the clergy, and was, more- 
 over, liable to the devastations of noble sportsmen and their game. 
 The taxes on consumption weighed heavily on the great mass, and 
 consequently on the people. The mode in Avhich they Avere levied 
 was vexatious : the gentry might be in arrear with impunity ; the peo- 
 ple, on the other hand, ill treated and imprisoned, were doomed to 
 sufter in body in default of goods. It subsisted, therefore, by tlie 
 sweat of the brow ; it defended with its blood the upper classes of so- 
 ciety, without being able to subsist itself. The bourgeoisie, industri- 
 ous, enlightened, less miserable certainly than the peasantry, but en- 
 riching the kingdom by its industry, reflecting lustre upon it by its 
 talents, obtained none of the advantages to which it had a right. 
 Justice, administered in some of the provinces by the gentry, in the 
 royal jurisdictions by magistrates wlio purchased their offices, was 
 slow, frequently partial, always ruinous, and particularly atrocious hi 
 criminal cases. Individual liberty was violated by Icttrcs dc cachet^ 
 and the liberty of the press by the royal censors. Lastly, the state, 
 ill-defended abroad, betrayed by the mistresses of Louis XV., com- 
 promised by the weakness of the ministers of Louis XVI., had recent- 
 ly been dishonoured ia Europe by the disgraceful sacrifice of Holland 
 and Poland. 
 
 The popular masses began already to put themselves in motion ; 
 disturbances had several times broken out during the struggle of the 
 parliaments, and especially on the retirement of the Archbishop of 
 Toulouse. That minister had been burned in effigy ; the armed force 
 had been insulted, and even attacked ; the magistracy had been baclv- 
 ward in prosecuting the rioters, who supported their cause. The pub- 
 lic mind, agitated by these events, full of the confused idea of a speedy 
 revolution, was in a continual ferment. The parliameiits and the 
 liigher orders already saw the arms which they had given to the peo- 
 ple directed against themselves. In Bretagne, the nobility had op- 
 posed tiie doubling of the third estate, and had refused to elect depu- 
 ties ; the bourgeoisie, who had so powerfully served against the court, 
 then turned against them, and sanguinary conflicts ensued. The 
 court, conceiving itself not sufficiently revenged on the Breton nobi- 
 lity,* refused them its aid, and, on the contrary, imprisoned some wf 
 their number who came to Paris for the purpose of remonstrating. 
 
 The elements themselves seemed to be let loose. A hailstorm, on 
 the 13th of July, had made havoc among the crops, and was likely to 
 increase the difficulty of supplying Paris, especially amidst the troubles 
 that were preparing. All the activity of commerce was scarcely suffi- 
 cient to collect the quantity of provisions necessary for that great cai)i- 
 tal ; and it might naturally be expected that it would soon be very 
 difficult to subsist it, when confidence should be shaken and the com- 
 munications interrupted by political disturbances. Ever since the 
 
 • See Bouille's Memoircs. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 33 
 
 cruel winter which had succeeded the disasters of Louis XIV., and 
 immortahzed the charity of Ferielon, so severe a season liad not heen 
 known as that of 178S-17S9. The heneficence whicli was then dis- 
 pLayed in tlie most aftccting manner was not suflicient to alleviate the 
 wretciiedness of the people. A great number of vagabonds, without 
 profession and without resources, thronged from all parts of France, 
 and paraded their indigence and their nakedness from Versailles to 
 Paris. At the sliglitest rumDur, they eagerly came forward to profit 
 by chances, which are always favourable to those who have every- 
 thing to gain, even to the subsistence for the passing day.* 
 
 Thus every thing concurred to produce a revolution. An en- 
 tire century had contributed to unveil abuses, and to carry tliem to 
 excess ; two years to stir up insurrection and to exasperate the popu- 
 hir masses by making tliem interfere in the quarrel of tlie privileged 
 orders. In short, luuural disasters, and a fortuitous concurrence of 
 various circumstances, brought on the catastrophe, the epoch of which 
 might have been deferred, but whicli was sure to happen sooner or 
 later. 
 
 It was amidst these circumstances that the elections took place. 
 I'hey were tumultuous in some provinces, active every where, and 
 very quiet in Paris, where great unanimity prevailed. Lists were dis- 
 tributed, and people strove to promote concord and a good understand- 
 ing. Tradesmen, lawyers, literaiy men, astonished to find tliemselves 
 assembled togetlier for the first time, raised lliemselves up by degrees to 
 viberty. In Paris, they reappointed themselves the bureaux formed by 
 he King, and, without changing the persons, asserted their ])o\ver by 
 confirming them. The learned Bailiy quitted his retreat at Chaillot : 
 a stranger to intrigues, and deeply impressed with his noble mission, 
 he proceeded alone and on fi)Ot to the assembly. lie paused by the 
 way on the terrace of the Feuillans. A young man, whom be did not 
 know, respectfidly accosted him. " You will be returned,'' said he. 
 " I cannot tell," replied Bailly ; " that honour ought neither to be so- 
 Ucited nor refused." The modest academician resumed Ids walk, 
 repaired to the assembly, and was cliosen successively elector and 
 deputy. 
 
 The election of the Count de Mirabeaii was stormy ; rejected by the 
 nobility, supported by the ticrs-etat^ he agitated Provence, his native 
 country, and it was not long befi)re he showed himself at Versailles. 
 
 The court had no wish to influence the elections. It was not dis- 
 pleased to see a great number o^ cures returned, reckoning upon their 
 opposition to tiie high ecclesiastical dignitaries, and at the same time 
 
 * "The charity ofFenelon, whicli iinmortiilizeJ the disastrous epoch of Louis 
 XIV,, w;is Jiow equalled by the hmiianc beneficence of the cleriry of Paris ; but all 
 Llioir elVnrts could not keep pace with the iuinieuse mass of indigence, whicli waa 
 S'lvelled by the conllueiice of dissolute and ahaiidoued characters from every part of 
 France. Tliese wretches assembled round tiie throne, like the sea-birds round thy 
 wreck, which are the harbingers of death to the sinking mariner, and already appear- 
 ed m fearful mnnbers in the streets on occasion of the slightest tumult. They were 
 all in a slate of destitution, and for the most part owed dieir life to the charuy of th« 
 ecclesiai^tics. whom tjicy afterwards massacred m cold blood in the prison of CariBefl " 
 •• ^AUsoTi's French Rcvolutiun E 
 ?0L. I.— 5 
 
34 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Upon their respect for tlie throne. It is true that it did not foresee all that 
 was to happen ; and in the deputies of the tiers it perceived rather ad- 
 versaries to the nobihty than to itself. The Duke of Orleans was ac- 
 cused of taking active steps to procure the nomination of himself and 
 his partisans. Already numbered anaong the enemies of the court, 
 the ally of the parhaments, and called for as leader, \yith or without 
 his consent, by the popular party, he was accused of various underhand 
 practices. A deplorable scene took place in the Fauxbourg St. An- 
 toine, and, as people are fond of giving an author to all events, it wag 
 laid to his charge. Reveillon, a manufacturer of stained paper, who 
 liad an extensive manufactory, improving our industry and furnishing 
 employment to three hundred workmen, was accused of an intention 
 to reduce their wages to one half. The populace threatened to burn his 
 house. Means were found to disperse them, but they returned on the 
 following day ; thehouse was broken into, set on fire, and destroyed. 
 Notwithstanding the threats held outon the first day by the assailants, 
 notwithstaudingthe meeting agreed upon for the second, the authorities 
 were very late before they began to act, and then they acted with extreme 
 severity. They waited till the people had made themselves masters of the 
 house, they then attacked them with fury, and were obliged to slaughter 
 a great number of those ferocious and intrepid men, who afterwards 
 showed themselves on all occasions, and received the name o^brigands. 
 
 All the parties which were already formed accused each other ; the 
 court was reproached with its first tardy and afterwards cruel proceed- 
 ings ; it was supposed that it wished to leave the people time to net 
 that it might make an example and exercise its troops. 
 
 The money found on the destroyers of Reveillon's house, and the 
 expressions that dropped from some of them, led to the conjecture that 
 they wrre urged on by a secret hand. The enemies of the pcpular 
 party accused the Duke of Orleans of a wish to try his revolutionary 
 bands 
 
 That prince had been endowed with excellent qualities. He mad 
 inherited immense wealth ; but, addicting himself to dissolute habits, 
 he had abused all these gifts of nature and of fortune. Without consis- 
 tency of character, alternately regardless of public opinion and greedy 
 of popularity, he was bold and ambitious one day, docile and absent 
 on the morrow. Having quarrelled with the Queen, he had become an 
 enemy to the court. AVhen parties began to form themselves, he had suf- 
 fered his name to be employed, and it is said, his wealth also. Flattered 
 with the vague prospect before him, he was active enough to draw ac- 
 cusation on himself, though not to ensure success; and his partisans, 
 if they entertained any serious plans, must have been driven to despair 
 by his inconstant ambition. 
 
 The moment ofthe convocation at length arrived. In this common 
 danger, the higher orders, creeping close to the court, had grouped 
 themselves around the princes of the blood and the Queen. They 
 strove by flattery to gain the country gentlemen, and in their absence 
 they ridiculed their clownishness. The clergy endeavoured to gain 
 over the plebeians of its order, and the military noblesse those belong- 
 ing to the same class with itself. The parhaments, which had expect 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 35 
 
 edto play the principal part in tlie Statcs-Qeneral, beg-an to apprelienj 
 that their ambition liad miscahjulated. Tiic deputies of the ticrs-ctat, 
 strong in the superiority of thuir talents, in the energetic eloquence of 
 their speeches, encouraged by continual intercommunication, nay, 
 spurred on by the doubts Avhicli many had conceived respecting' the 
 success of their efforts, had taken the lirm resolution not to yield. 
 
 The King alone, Avho had not enjoyed a moment's repose since tho 
 commencement of liis reign, regarded the States-General as tlie ter 
 mination of his embarrassments. Jealous of his authority, ratlier for 
 the sake of his cliildren, to whom he deemed it his duty to transmit 
 this patrimony entire, than for his own, he was not displeased to restore 
 a portion of it to the nation, and to throw upon it the difticulties of tho 
 government. Accordingly, it was with joy that he made preparations 
 for this grand assemblage. A hall had been hastily got ready ; the 
 costumes were determined upon, and a humiliating badge had been 
 imposed on the ticrs-ctat. Men arc not less jealous of their dignity 
 than of their rights: with a very just pride, the instructions forbade the 
 deputies to condescend to any degrading ceremonial. This new fault 
 of the court originated, like many others, in the desire to preserve at 
 least the symbols when the realities had ceased to exist. It could not 
 but produce a deep irritation at a moment when, before attacking, the 
 parties began to measure one another with their eyes. 
 
 On the 4tli of iMay, tke day of the opening, a solemn procession 
 took ]dace. The King, the three orders, all tlie great dignitaries of 
 the state, repaired to the church of Notre-Dame. The court had dis- 
 played extraordinary magnificence. The two higher orders were splen- 
 didly dressed. Princes, dukes and peers, gentlemen, prelates, were 
 clad in jnu-ple, and wore hats with plumes of feathers. The deputies 
 of the ticrs-ctat^ covered with plain black cloaks, came next ; and, 
 notwithstanding their modest exterior, they seemed strong in their 
 number and their prospects. It was remarked that the Duke ot Or- 
 leans, placed in the rear of the nobility, chose rather to lag behind, 
 and to mingle with the foremost deputies of the third estate. 
 
 This national, military, and religious pomp — those pious chants — 
 those martial instruments — and, above all, the importance of the event 
 — deeply moved all hearts. The discourse delivered by the Bishop of 
 Nanci, full of generous sentiments, was enthusiastically applauded, 
 notwithstanding the sacrcdncss of the place and the presence of the 
 King. Great assemblages elevate us. They detach us from ourselves 
 and attach us to others. A general intoxication was diffused, and all 
 at once many a heart felt its animosities subside, and became filled for 
 a moment with humanity and patriotism.* 
 
 * I should not quote the followinn; passage from the J\16moircs of Ferrieres, it base 
 detractors had not ventured to carp at every tiling in tiie scenes of the French Re\o- 
 hitioii, The passage which I am about to extract wiH enable the reader to judge of 
 tho clTcct produced upon the least plebeian hearts by the national solemnities of this 
 grand epoch. 
 
 *' I yield to the pleasure of recording here the impression made upon me by this 
 august and touching ceremony; I shall transcribe the account of it which I tlien 
 v/rote down, whilst still full of what I had felt. If this passage is not historical, U 
 wdi perhaps have a stronger interest for some readers 
 
36 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Tlie opening of the States-General took place on the following day, 
 May, 5 1789. Tlie King was seated on an elevated throne, iJit 
 Queen beside him, the court in stalls, the two higher orders on both 
 sides, the tiers-Hat at the farther end of the hall, and on lower seats 
 
 " The nobility in black coats, the other garments of cloth of gold, silk cloak, lace 
 cravat, p lamed hat turned npa /a HmrilV. ; the clergy insurphce, wide mantle, square 
 cap : the bishops in their pnrple robes, with their rocliets ; the tiers dressed in black, 
 with silk mantle, and cambric cravat. The King phiced hiniselCoii a platform richly 
 decorated; Monsieur, the Count d' Artois, the princes, the ministers, the great offi- 
 cers of the crown, were seated below tlie King; the Queen placed herself' opposite 
 to the King; Madame, the Countess d' Artois, the princesses, the ladies of the 
 court, superbly dressed and covered with diamonds, composed a magnificent retinue 
 for her. The streets were hung with tapestry belonging to the crown; the regi- 
 ments of the French and Swiss guards formed a line from Notre-Dame to St. Louis; 
 an immense concourse of people looked on, as we passed, in respectful silence; the 
 balconies were adorned with costly stuHs, the windows filled with spectators of all 
 ages, of both sexes, lovely women elegantly attired : every face bespoke kindly emo- 
 tion, every eye sparkled with joy; clapping of hands, expressions of the warmest 
 interest, the looks that met ns and that still followed alter we were out of sight 
 . . rapturous, enchanting scene, to which I should vainly strive to do jus- 
 tice ! Bands of music, placed at intervals, rent the air with melodious sounds; mi- 
 litary marches, the rolling of drums, the clang of trumpets, the noble chants of the 
 priests, alternately heard, without discordance, without confusion, enlivened this tri- 
 umphal procession to the temple of the Almighty. 
 
 "Plunged into the most delicious ecstacy, sublime but melancholy thoughts soon 
 presented themselves to my mind. I beheld that France, my country, supported by 
 keliiiion, saying to us, Desist from your puerile quarrels ; this is the decisive moment 
 vvliich shall either give me new life or annihilate nie for ever! Love of country, 
 thou spakest to my heart ! .... What ! shall a handful of ambitious madmen, 
 base intriguers, seek by tortuous ways to disunite my country ? — shall they found their 
 dfe^Lructiv'e systems on insidious advantages? — shall they say to thee, Thou hast two 
 interests ; and all thy glory and all thy power, of which thy neighbours are so jealous, 
 Bhall vanish like a light smoke driven by the southern blast? No, I swear to thee, 
 that my parched tongue shall cleave to my palate, if ever I forget thy grandeurs and 
 thy solemnities. 
 
 ■' What splendour this religious display shed over that wholly human pomp ! With 
 out thee, venerable Religion, it would have been but an empty parade of pride ; but 
 thou piirifiest and sanctifiest, thou heightcnest grandeur itself; the kings, the mighty 
 of the age, they too, by at least a show of reverence, pay homage to the King of 
 kings. . • • • Yes, to God alone belong honour, empire, glory! Those 
 sacred ceremonies, those hymns, those priests clothed in the dress of sacrifice, those 
 
 porfiuncs, that canopy, that sun resplendent with gold and jewels I 
 
 called to mind the words of the prophet: ' Daughters of Jerusalem, your King Com- 
 eth ; put on your nuptial robes, and hasten to meet him.' Tears of joy trickled from 
 my eyes. My God, my country, my fellow-citizens, had become identified with 
 myself. 
 
 " On their arrival at St. Louis, the three orders seated themselves on benches placed 
 in the nave. The King and Queen took their places beneath a canopy of purple 
 velvet, sprinkled with goUen Jlcurs-dc-l is ; the princes, the princesses, the great 
 officers of the crown, and the ladies of the palace, occupied the space reserved for 
 their majesties. The host was carried to the altar to the sound of the most impressivo 
 music. It was an saliUans Husiui ! This natural, but true and melodious vocal 
 performance, unencumbered by the din of instruments which drown the expression; 
 this mass of voices, rising in well-regulated accord to heaven, convinced me that the 
 
 simple is always beautiful, always grand, always sublime Men are 
 
 idiots, in their vain wisdom, to treat as puerile the worship that is paid to the Al- 
 mighty. With what indillerence do they view that moral chain which binds man to 
 Goil, which renders him visible to the eye, sensible to the touch! . . . . AL de 
 a Fare, Bishop of Nanci, delivered the discourse. Relii;ion constitutes the'stren^th 
 3f empires; religion constitutes the prosperity of nations. This truth, which nc 
 wiso man e>cr doubted for a single moment, was not the important question to bo 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 37 
 
 A movement arose at tlie sight of the Count de Mirabeau ; lutliis 
 look, his step, awed the assembly.* Tlie iicrs-ctat remained coveied 
 iike the otlier orders, notwitlistanding the estabhshed custom. TJie 
 King delivered an address, in which he recommended disinterested- 
 ness to some, prudence to others, and professed to all his love for his 
 people. Carentin, the keeper of the seals, then spoke, and was follow- 
 ed by Necker, who read a memorial on the state of the kingdom, in 
 which he treated at great length of the finances, admitted a deficit oi 
 fifty-six millions, and wearied by his prolixity those whom he did not 
 offend by his lessons. 
 
 On the next day, the deputies of each order were dii'ected to 
 the ])lace allotted to them. Besides the common hall, which was 
 sufficiently spacious to hold the three orders united, two other halls 
 had been erected fi)r the nobility and the clergy. The common hall 
 was assigned to the tiers ; and it thus had the advantage, whilst in its 
 own i)lace of mectinj]^, of bein^f in that of the States. The first busi- 
 ness was the verification of the powers of the members. It became 
 
 treatPcl in llio august assembly; tlio placo, the circumstance, opened a wider field: 
 the Uisiiop of IN'aiici durst not, or could not, traverse it. 
 
 " Un the following day, the de[)iitios met in the hall of the I\rcnns. The asseinhly 
 was neither less imposing, nor the si^'ht less magnificent, than the preceding day." — 
 MCinuircs (la I\I<ir<iiiis dc Fcrricrcs, toni. i. 
 
 * " Excluded from the raidt to which Ifis birtli entitled him, fllirabean determined 
 to recover it at any price, lie vowed vengeance against his enemies, and with this 
 bitterness of feeluig did Mirabeau lake his seat in the assemhlv of the 8tales-(Jeneial. 
 As he entered the hall, he cast a threatening glance on the ranks which he was not al- 
 lowed to ap[)roacli. A bitter siude [ilaved on his lips, which were habitually contracted 
 by an ironical and scornful cxpre-ssion. fie proceeded across the hall, and seated 
 hinisi'lfon those benches from which he was to hurl the thunderbolts wliich shook 
 the throne. A gentleman strongly attached to the court, but likewise a friend of 
 JMirabeau, who had observed the rancorous look which he darted round him when 
 he took Ins seat, entered mto conversation with liim, and pointed out to him that his 
 pecidiar position in the world closed against hiin .he door of every saloon in Paris. 
 ' Consider,' said he, ' that society, when once wounded, is not easily conciliated. If 
 you wish to be pardoned, you must ask pardon.' Mirabeau listened with impa- 
 tience, but when his friend used the word ' pardon,' lie could contain himself no long- 
 er, but started up and stamjied with violence on the floor. His bushv hair seemed to 
 stand ou end, his little piercing eyes flashed lire, and Ins lips turned pale and quiver- 
 ed. This was always the way with JMirabeau when he was strongly excited. ' 1 am 
 come hither,' cried he, in a voice of thunder, 'to be asked, not to ask pardon.' "' — 
 Memoirs of tlic Duchess <C Abrantcs. E. 
 
 " llartlly any of the deputies had hitherto acquired great popular reputation. One 
 ilone attracted general attention. Born of noble parents, he had warmly espoused 
 tiie popular side, without losing the pride of aristocratic connexion, llis talents 
 univer.sally known, and his integrity generally suspected, rendered liiin the object of 
 painful anxiety; llar^h and disagreeable leatures, a profusion of black hair, and acom- 
 nianding air, attracted the curiosity even of those who were nnacquainted with his 
 reputation. His name was .Mirabeau, future leader of the Assembly ! Two ladies 
 of rank, from a gallery, with very ditVerent feelings, beheld the spectacle. The orio 
 was Madame de .Montinorin, wife of the minister of foreign aflairs ; the other, the 
 illustrious daughter of M. Necker, JMadame de Stael. The latter exulted in the 
 bountlless prospect of national felicity which seemed to be opening under the auspr 
 ces of her lather. 'Yon are wrong to rejoice,' said I\Iadame de Montmorin; 'this 
 event foreliodes much misery to Franceandto ourselves.' Her presentiment turned 
 out too well founded ; she herself perished on the scaflbid with one of her sons ; ano 
 ther was <lrowued ; her hu-band was massacred in the prisons on September ^d, 
 her eldi>t ilaugliter was cut olf in goal ; her youngest died of a broken heart before 
 she had attained the age of thirty years.'' — Alison's French Revolution. E. 
 
38 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 a question whether this should take place in common or by separate 
 orders. The deputies of the tiers, alleging that it was of importance 
 to each portion of the States-General to satisfy itself of the legitimacy 
 of tlie two others, insisted on the verification in common. The nobi- 
 lity and the clergy, desirous of keeping up the division of orders, 
 maintained that each ought to constitute itself apart. This question 
 had nothing to do with that of individual votes, for they might verify 
 their powers in common and afterwards vote separately, but it nearly 
 resembled it ; and on the very first day it produced a division, Aviiich 
 it was easy to foresee, and which might have been as easily prevented 
 by putting an end to the dispute beforehand. Cut the court never had 
 the courage either to deny or to grant what was just, and, besides, ii 
 hoped to reign by dividing. 
 
 The deputies of the tiers-etat remained assembled in the general 
 hall, abstaining from any measure, and waiting, as they said, to be 
 joined by their colleagues. The nobility and the clergy, retiring to 
 their respective halls, proceeded to deliberate on the verification. The 
 clergy voted the separate verification by a majority of 133 to 114, and 
 the nobility by a majority of 183 to 114. The tiers-Hat persisting in 
 its inaction, pursued, on the morrow, the same course as on the pre- 
 ceding day. It made a point of avoiding any measure which could 
 cause it to be considered as constituting a separate order. For this 
 reason, in sending a deputation of its members to the other two cham- 
 bers, it abstained from giving them any express mission. These 
 members were sent to the nobility and clergy to inform them that the 
 tiers-etat was waiting for them in the common hall. The nobility 
 were not sitting at the moment ; the clergy were assembled, and oft'er- 
 ed to appoint commissioners to settle the dift'erences that had arisen. 
 They actually appointed them, and invited the nobility to do the same. 
 In this contest, the clergy manifested a very different spirit from the 
 nobility. Among all the privileged classes, it had suffered most from 
 the attacks of the eighteenth century. Its political existence had been 
 disputed ; it was divided, owing to the great number of its cures ; be- 
 sides, its professional character was that of moderation and the spirit ol 
 peace. Accordingly, as we have just seen, it offered a sort of mediation. 
 
 The nobility, on the contrary, declined it, by refusing to appoint 
 commissioners. Less prudent than the clergy, more confident in its 
 rights, conceiving itself not bound to moderation but to valour, it vent- 
 ed itself in refusals and tlireats. These men, who never excused any 
 passion in others, gave the reins to all their own passions, and, like 
 all assemblies, they yielded to the domination of the most violent 
 spirits. Casalfes and d'Espremenil, recently ennobled, made the most 
 indiscreet motions, and, after preparing them in a private meeting, 
 procured their adoption in general assembly. In vain did a minority, 
 composed of men more prudent or more prudently ambitious, strive 
 to enlighten these nobles. They would not listen to any thing. They 
 taflced of fighting and dying, and they added, for the laws and jus- 
 liitr;. The tiers-etat, immoveable, endured Avith patience every insult 
 rhougl irritated, it was silent, conducted itself with the prudence and 
 jrmness of all pov/ers which are commencing their career, and receiv 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 39 
 
 ed tlie applause of tlie tribunes, orijrinallj destined for the court, but 
 Boon tak(jn possession of by the public. 
 
 Several days had already elapsed: the clern^y had laid snares for 
 llie ticrs-ctat by inciting it to certain acts which would have given it 
 the ciiaracter of a constituted order. It liad, however, constantly re- 
 fused to comply; and, taking only indispensable measures of intcrnaJ 
 pohce, it had confined itself to the election of a dean and assistants 
 for the purpose of collecting opinions. It refused to open the letters 
 addressed to it, and it declared that it formed not an order, but a mcct- 
 ijig of citizens assembled hy a legitimate auihoriti/ to tcait for other 
 citizens. 
 
 The nobility, after refusing to s-ppoijit conciliatory commissioners, 
 at lenglli consented to send deputies to ariange matters with the other 
 orders. But their mission was rendered useless, since it charged them at 
 the same time to declare that it persisted in its decision of the (kU of 
 Mivy^ which ejijoined the separate verification. The clergy, on the con- 
 trary, adhering to its part, had sus])ended the verification ^^•hich it had 
 at first commenced in its own chamber, and declared itself not consti- 
 tuted, awaiting the conferences of the conciliatory commissioners. 
 The confirences were opened: the clergy was silent ; the de|)nties of 
 the commcms argued their point with cahnncss, those of the nobility 
 with warmth. Both parties returned soured by the dispute; and ihc 
 ticrs-ctat, determined not to give way, was doubtless not displeased to 
 learu that all compromise was impossible. The nobility Avas assured 
 every day by its commissioners that they had the advantage, and this 
 served to heighten its exaltation. By a transient gleam of prudence, 
 the first two orders declared that they renounced their peeuniaiy privi- 
 leges. The ticrs-ttat accepted the concession, but persisted in its re- 
 fusal to proceed lo business, still refpiiringthe common verification. 
 
 The conferences yet continued, when it was at length proposed, by 
 way of accommodating the matter, that the powers should be verified 
 by commissioners chosen from the three orders. The deputies of the 
 nobility declared in its name its dissent from this arrangement, and re- 
 tired without appointing any new conference. Thus the negociation 
 was broken off. The same day the nobility passed a resolution, by 
 vyhich it declared c-new that for this session the verification should 
 take place separately, and that it should be left for the States to deter- 
 mine upon some other mode in future. 
 
 This resolution was communicated to the commons on the 27th of 
 May. They had been assemhled ever since the 5th ; tAventy-two days 
 had consequently elapsed, during which nothing had been done. It 
 was hiiih time to come to a determination. IMirabeau, who ijave the 
 impulse to the popular party,* observed that it was time to decide upon 
 
 * " [loiiore Gabriel Riqiietti, Comte de Miraheau, was born in 1749. Youtlifiil 
 ImpctnO'^itv and ungoverned passions made the early i)art ol" liis life a set-no of dis- 
 order and iiii,-;ery. After h.ivinii: been ^onie time in the army, he married iMade- 
 mai.iclle de Marignaiie, a rich lieiress in the city of Aix ; but llie nnioii was not for- 
 tiuiate, and liis extrava<rant expenses der.in;,nng liis alTairs, he contracted debts to fn« 
 amount of 300,000 livres, in conseqnence ol' which liis father obtained from th« 
 Chateletanict of liinaeyagainslliim. Furaged at tiiis, he went to setde-at Manosque ' 
 
40 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Bometliiiin;, and to coinmeiice tlieir hibonrs for the public welfare 
 whicli had been too long delayed. He proposed, therefore, in conse- 
 sequence of the resolution passed hy the nobility, to send a message. 
 tQ the clergy, in order to obtain an immediate explanation from it, and 
 
 wlionce he was, on account of a private quarrel, some time afterwards removpfl. and 
 sliiit up in the castle of If; he was then coiu'eycd to that of Joux, in Franche Cointe, 
 and ol)tained permission to go occasionally to Pontarlier, where he met Sophia de 
 kufley, iMarciiioness of iMonmir, wife of a president in the parliament of Cos;in(jon. 
 Her wit and beauty inspired JMirabeau with a u-ost violent passion, and he soon es- 
 caped to Holland with her, but was for this outrage condemned to lose his head, 
 and would probably have ended his days far from liis country, had not an agent of 
 police seized iiini in 1777, and carried him to the castle of V.ncennes, where he re- 
 tiKiip.cd till December, 1780, when he recovered his liberty. The French revolution 
 eooii presented a vast field for his activity ; and, being rejected at tlie time of the elec- 
 tions bv the nobility of Provence, he hired a warehouse, put up this inscription, 
 " iMirabeaa, woollen-draper," and was elected deputy from the t'wrs-ctat of Aix ; 
 from that tnne the court of Versailles, to whom he was beginning to be formidable, 
 called him the Plebeian Count. On the day when the States opened, he looked al 
 the monarch, who was covered with the crown jewels, and said to those near him, " Be- 
 hold the victim already adorned !" lie soon look possession of the tribune, and there 
 discussed the most important matters in the organization of society. He had never 
 at that time conceived the possibility of establishing a democracy in so innnense a 
 Btate as France. His motive for seeking popularity was solely that lie miglit J'egnlate 
 a court which he caused to tremble, but the court committed the fault of not seeking 
 to seduce his/imbition. He then connected himself with the Duke of Orleans, from 
 whom he obtained certain sums that he wanted; butsoon perceiving that it was impos- 
 sible to make nny thing of such a clod, he broke off the intimacy in October, 1789. if he 
 was not one of the principal causes of the events which took place on the 5th and 6th 
 of that month, the words he made use of before and during that time, give reason 
 to suppose he was no stranger to them. The next day he made the King new over- 
 tures, and repeated them shortly after, but they were invariably rejected; and he then 
 considered how he should, by new blows, compel the sovereign and his council to 
 have recourse to him. Not, however, till the end of the session did this take place; 
 and then, by the intervention of Madame de INIercy and M. de IMonlmorin, his debts 
 were paid, and a pension was granted him. From that time he devoted himself to 
 strengthening the monarchy, and addressed to the King a statement on the causes of 
 the revolution, and the methods of putting a stop to it. It may be doubted whether 
 he could have succeeded in this undertaking ; but it is now certain, that, at the moment 
 of his sudden death, he was busied in a project for dissolving an assembly which ho 
 could no longer direct. On the IGth of Jamiary, 1791, he was appointed a member 
 of the department of Paris, and on the 31st, president of the JNational Assembly. 
 This being the period of his closest connexion with the co\irt, he wished as president 
 to acquire new celebrity, and show himself capable of directing the assembly; a de- 
 sign which he executed with a degree of address admired even by his enemies. On 
 the 28th of ]\Iarch he was taken ill, and died on the 2d of April, at hall-past eight in 
 the morning, aged forty-two. So short an illness excited a suspicion at first that he 
 had been poisoned, and all parties mutually accused each other of the crime; but 
 when his body was opened, there appeared, as the physicians asserted, no marks of 
 violence. When on his death-bed, he said openly to his friends, ' I shall carry the 
 monarchy with me, and a few factious spirits will share what is left.' At the mo- 
 ment of his death he retained all his fortitude and self-possession; on the very morii- 
 ing. he wrote these words: " It is not so difficult to die ;" and at the instant when 
 his eyes were closing, he wrote, '* to sleep." His loss seemed to be considered as a pub- 
 lic calamity, and it is remarkaljle that all parties believing him to be in their interests, 
 joined in regretting him. His obsequies were celebrated with great pomp; all tho 
 theatres were shut; the deputies, the ministers, the members of all the aiUhoritative 
 ussomblies, formed a procession which extendi^d above a league, and which wai 
 lour hours marching; and his body was placed in the Pantheon beside that of Des- 
 cartes. In November. 179:5, his ashes were, by order of the Convention, remo\ed 
 thence, and scattered abroad by the people, who at the same time burned his bust in 
 
t'RENCH REVOLUTION. 41 
 
 to ascertain wliet'iier it u'ould orwonld notmeetthe commons. Tlie pro- 
 positi was iminediutcly a(loi)tcd. 'J'ai'^^et, the deputy, proceeded at the 
 licadol'a niiiuerous deputation, to the hall of the Cjergy. " The gentle- 
 men ot" the comnnons," said he, " invite the li^entlenien of the clei'gv, in 
 THE N\.Mi: OF riii', r.on of peaci:, and foi" the national interest, to meet 
 them in the hall of the assemhlv, to consnit upon the means of etVectini; 
 the concord so necessary at this mom(jnt for tiie public well'are." The 
 cleru'v \vasstiaickv.dth these solemn words. A o'reat nnmher of its mem- 
 bers answered them with acclamations, and would liave instantly com- 
 ])li('d with this invitation, liad they not been ]irevented ; and the rej>ly 
 ♦jivcn to the deputies of the onunons was, that it would deliberate on 
 the subject. On the return of the deputation, the inexorable ticrs-ct it 
 determined to await, without breaking up, the answer of the clergy. 
 As this answer did not arrive, a message was sent that the commons 
 wei'e waiting for it. The clergy comphnned of being Jmrried, and 
 retpiested to be allowed the necessaiy time. The ticrs-elat replied 
 with moderation, that the clei-gy miiiht take its own time, and that the 
 connn(Jiis would wait, if requisite, the whole day and the Avhole night. 
 The situation was dillicult. 'IMie clerii:y knew that after its answei 
 the c(nnmoiis wf)uld fail to work, and adoi)t a decisive course, ll 
 \vi>hed to temporize, in order to concert with the court. It re- 
 quired time till the following day, which was granted with regret. 
 Next day, the Iving resolved, in accordance with the wishes of the 
 Iiigh:;r orders, to interfere. At this moment, all the animosit'.es be- 
 twee-n the court and the hijj^her orders bcijan to be forirotten, at the 
 sight of that popular power which rose with such rapidity. The King 
 at length appeared, and invited the t'aree ordersto resume their confer- 
 ences in the presence of his keeper of the seals. The iicrs-^tdt, not- 
 withstaiuling all that has been said of its projects, upon judgnienlb 
 formed after the events, did not extend its wishes beyond moderate 
 monarchy. Knowing the intentions of Louis XV^I., it was fvdl of rcs- 
 /)cct for him : and, umvilling to injure its cause by any Avrong steji, 
 it rcplietl that, out of deference to the King, it consented to renew the 
 conff.-rences, though, inconsequence of the declaration of the nobility, 
 it could Jiot but consider them as useless. To this reply it annexed 
 
 the Place do Grove, as an oneiny to the rcpiil)lic, and one who liarl coiTL>!firinriwu 
 with tho royal (Uinily. Thus did 3[ir.il)i'au verily what he had hiiiiseU'said, ' that ihu 
 Ca|iilol was close to the Tarpeian rock, and that the sau)'; p('0[)lii who llaltered him 
 would liavc liad equal pleasure lu seeing hiui hanged.' iMirahcaa w.is of luiddle 
 stature; his face was ilishgured hy tiie iiiarlcs of the smallpox; and the cimrnioua 
 qiiaiititv ofliair on his head gave iiiui souie re>enib!3jice to a hoii. lie wasofalDl'ty 
 cliaractfM-, and had talents which were extraortInia>-y, and soi]i5 which were .^uhliine ; 
 his fclicily of diction was unrivalled, and his knowledge of the human heart profoiiiid ; 
 biU lii; was essentially a despot, and, had he governed an empire, he would ha\e sur- 
 passed ilicIieli'Mi in pride, and lAIazarin in policy. Naturally violent, the least re'^ist- 
 ancc indamed him ; when lie appeared most irritated, his exiu'ession had most elo 
 qiiiMice; and being aconsunnnate aclor, his v.rtice and gestures lent a new interest to 
 all he said, Ilis chiel' passion was pride; and though his love of intrigue was un- 
 bounded, it can be ascril)(;d oidy to his pjcuniary necessities. In tlie las*^ year of 
 hi^^ life he paid iunnensedebts, bought esta es, rnrniii;re, the valuab'.e library orBiillon, 
 and lived in a splendid style.'' — From Uie article ' JMirabeac," in liie Bio^TapJiit 
 Modcrnc. E. 
 VOL. I. — 6 
 
42 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 an address, which it charged its dean to deliver to the prince. Thli 
 dean was Bailly, a simple and virtuous man, an ilkistrious and modest 
 cuhivator of the sciences, Avho had been suddenly transported from the 
 quiet studies of liis closet into the midst of civil broils. Elected to 
 ihe presidency over a great assembly, he had been alarmed at his new 
 office, had deemed himselfunwortliy tofill it, and undertaken it solely 
 from a sense of duty. But, raised all at once to liberty, he found 
 within him an unexpected presence of mind and firmness. Amid so 
 many contlicts, he caused the majesty of the assembly to be respect- 
 ed, and represented it with all the dignity of virtue and of reason. 
 
 Bailly had the greatest difficulty to penetrate to the King. As he 
 insisted on being introduced, the courtiers reported that he had not 
 even paid respect to grief of the monarch, afflicted by the death of 
 the dauphin. He was at length presented, contrived to avoid eveiy 
 humiliating ceremonial, and displayed equal firmness and respect. 
 The King received him graciously, but without entering into any ex- 
 planation of his intentions. 
 
 The government, having decided on making some sacrifices to ob- 
 tain money, designed, by opposing the orders, to become their umpire, 
 to wrest from the nobility its pecuniary privileges with the assistance 
 of the ticrs-etat^ and to check the ambition of the latter by means of 
 the nobility. As for the nobility, having no need to concern itself about 
 the embarrassments of the administration, caring only for the sacrifi- 
 ces which were likely to be wrung from it, it hoped to bring about a 
 dissolution of the States-General, and thus to frustrate the object of 
 their convocation. The commons, whom the court and tlie hioher 
 orders would not recognize by that title, were incessantly acquiring 
 fresh strength, and, being resolved to brave all dangers, were anxious 
 not to let slip an opportunity which might never recur. 
 
 The conferences demanded by the King took place. The commis- 
 sioners of the nobility raised all sorts of difficulties about the title of 
 commons which the ticrs-ttai had assumed, and about the form and 
 signature of the minutes (proc^s-vcrbal). At length they entered upon 
 discussion, and they were almost reduced to silence by the reasons 
 urged against them, when Necker, in the name of the King, proposed 
 a new mode of conciliation. Each order was to examine the powers 
 separately, and to communicate them to the others. In case diiilcul- 
 ties should arise, commissioners should reportupon them to each cham- 
 ber, and if the decision of the different orders disagreed, the King was 
 to judge definitively. Thus tlie court would settle the dispute to its 
 own advantage. The conferences were immediately suspended to 
 obtain the adhesion of the orders. The clergy accepted the j)lan 
 purely and simply. The nobility at first received it favourably ; but, 
 urged by its usual instigators, it rejected the advice of its most discreet 
 members, and modified the project of conciliation. From that day 
 ♦nust be dated all its disasters. 
 
 The commons, apprized of this resolution, waited till it should be 
 communicated to them in order to explain themselves in tlieir turn; 
 hut the CiCrgy, with its ordi)iary cunning, desirous of bringing them into 
 had odour whh the nation sent them a deputation to invite them to 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 43 
 
 take into consideration, along with it, the distress of the people, which 
 was daily increasing, that they might lose no time in providing toge- 
 ther against the dearth and high price of provisions. The commons, 
 who would have exposed themselves to the popular odinm if tlicy liad 
 appeared indiftercnt to such a proposal, opposed craft with craft, and 
 replied that, deeply impressed with the same duties, they awaited the 
 clergy in the great hall, in order to deliberate with it on this important 
 subject. Tlie nobility then arrived, and solemnly communicated its 
 resolution to the commons. It adopted, it said, the plan of concilia- 
 tion, persisting, hovrever, in the separate verification, and referring to 
 the united orders, and to the supreme jurisdiction of the King, such 
 ditliculties only as might arise respecting the entire deputations of a 
 whole province. 
 
 Thi!^ resolution put an end to all the embarrassments of the com- 
 mons. Obliged either to yield or to declare war single-handed against 
 the higher orders and the throne, if the plan of conciliation had been 
 adoj)te(l, they were reheved from the necessity of explanation, as the 
 plan had been accepted only with important alterations. The moment 
 was decisive. To give Avay on the separate verification was not, in- 
 deed, giving way on the vote by order ; but to betray weakness once 
 was to be weak for ever. They must submit to act nearly the ])art of 
 a cipher, give money to power, be content with the abolilion of a i'vw 
 abuses, when they saw the possibility of regenerating the state, or 
 take a strong resolution, and seize by force a portion of the legislative 
 l)o\ver. This was the first revolutionary act, Init the assembly did nut 
 hesitate. In consequence, all the minutes (proci^s vcrbaux) being 
 signed, and the conferences finished, IMirabcau rose : " Ajiy plan of 
 coneihatinn rejected by one party," said he, " can no longer be exam- 
 ined by the other. A month is past ; it is time to take a decisive step : 
 a dej)uty of Paris has anim]iortant motion to make — let us liear him." 
 Mirabeaii, having opened the dehberation by his audacit}', introduced 
 to the tribune Sieycs, a man of a comprehensive mind, systematic and 
 rigorous in his deductions. Sieyes in a i^t^v words recapitulated and 
 explained the motives of the conduct of the commons. Tliey had 
 waited and had acceded to all the conciliations proposed ; their long 
 condescension was unavailing ; they could delay no longer without 
 failing in their duty ; they ought consequently to send a last invita- 
 tion to the other two orders, to join them for the purpose of connnen- 
 cing the verification. This proposition, based on sulBcient motives,* 
 
 * I think ii riglit to state here the motives on wliich the assembly of the commons 
 fonnded the i-esolntion wliich it was abont to take. This first act, which commences tlie 
 revohition, being of high importance, it is essential toj'.istify the necessity fur it, and I 
 tliink tliis camiot be done better, than by tJie considerations winch preceded tiie reso 
 Intion (rtrrt/t) of tlie commons. These considerations, as well aslhe arn'iii itself, 
 bclonii to the Abbe Sieyes. 
 
 "The assembly of the commons deliberating on the overtnre of conciliation pro 
 posed by the commissioners of the King, lias deemed it incumbent on it to take at lhn 
 same time into consideration the resolution {arrilL) which the nobility have hastened 
 to adont respecting the same overture. 
 
 " It has seen that the nobility, notwithstanding the acquiescence at first professed, 
 •oon introduced a modification whicli retracts it almost entirely, and that consequent 
 
44 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 was received with enthusiasm ; it was even in contemplation to Burn 
 mon the orders to attend within an Jiour. The period, however, waa 
 prorogued. The following- day, Thursday, being- devoted to religious 
 solemnities, it was postponed till Friday. On Friday, the last invitation 
 was communicated. The two orders replied that they would considei 
 of it, and the King that he would make knosvn his intentions. The 
 call of the baillagcs began: on the first day, three cures attended and 
 were hailed with applause ; on the second, six arrived ; and on the 
 third and fourth ten, among whom was the abbe Gregoire. 
 
 Durin^ the call of the baillagcs and the verification of the powers, a 
 serious dispute arose concerning the title which the assembly was to 
 assume. Mirabeau proposed that of Representatives of the French 
 
 ly their resolution {arrSle) ou this subject cannot be considered as any other tlian a 
 positive lefusal. 
 
 " From tills consideralion, and because the nobility have not desisted from tlioir 
 preceding deliberations, in opposition to every phtn of reunion, the deputies of tlio 
 commons conceive that it lias become absolutely useless to bestow any Jlirther atten- 
 tion on an expedient wliich can no longer be called conciliatory, since it has been 
 rejected by one of the parties to be conciliated. 
 
 "In this state of things, which replaces the deputies of the commons in their origin- 
 al position, the assembly judges that it can no longer wait inactive for the privileged 
 classes without sinning against the nation, which Jias doubtless a right to require a 
 better use of its time. 
 
 " It is of opinion that it is an urgent duty for the representatives of the nation, to 
 whatever class of citizens they belong, to form themselves, without further delay, into 
 an active assembly, capable of connnencing and fulfilling the object oftheir mission. 
 
 " The assembly directs the commissioners who attended the various conferences, 
 called conciliatory, to draw up a report of the long and vain efforts of the deputies of 
 the conunons to bring back the classes of the privileged to true jirinciples; it takes 
 upon itself the exposition of the motives which oblige it to pass from a state of ex- 
 pectation to a state of action; finally, it resolves, that this report and these motives 
 Bhall be printed at the head of the present deliberation. 
 
 " Dut, since it is not possible to form themselves into an active nssembly, without pre- 
 viously recognising those who have a right to compose it, — that is to say, those who are 
 uahlied to vote as representatives of tlie nation, — the same deputies of the connnons 
 eem it their duty to make a last trial with the clergy and the nobility, who claim the 
 same quality, but have nevertheless refused up to the present moment to make them 
 selves recognised. 
 
 " Moreover, the assembly, having an interest in certifying the refusal of these two 
 j-lasses of deputies, in case they should persist in their determination to remain un- 
 known, deems it indispensable to send a last invitation, which shall be conveyed to 
 them by deputies charged to read it before tliem, and to leave them a copy of it in 
 the following terms: 
 
 " ' Gentlenien, we are commissioned by tlie deputies of the commons of France 
 to apprize you that they can no longer delay the fultilment of the obligntiou imposed 
 on all the representatives of the nation, it is assuredly time that those who claim 
 this quality should make themselves known by acommon verification of their powers, 
 and begin at length to attend to the national interest, wliich alone, and to the exclu 
 eion of all private interests, presents itself as the grand aim to which all the deputies, 
 ought to tend by one general eHort. In consequence, and from the neccisity which 
 the repre?ontraives of the nation are under to proceed 1o business, the deputies of the 
 oorainons entreat you anew, gentlemen, and their duty enjoins them to address to 
 you, as well indiviJually as collectively, a last summons to come to the hall of the 
 states, to attend, concur in, and suljinit.'like themselves, to the common verification 
 of powers. \Vc are at the same time directed to inform you, that the general call of 
 all the bailllagcs convoked will take place in an hour, that the assembly will imme 
 diateiy proc6;d to the verification, and that such as do not appear will be declared 
 defaulters.' ' 
 
 3 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 45 
 
 People; Mounier tliat of Ddihcrative Majoritij in the absence of the 
 Minority ; Lcgraiid tliat oi' National Asscnihhj. Tliis last was adopt- 
 ed, after a very long- discussion, which lasted till the night of the 16th 
 of June. It was one o'clock in the morning, and it became a question 
 whether the assembly should constitute itself before it broke up, or 
 should defer that business till the following day. One portion of the 
 deputies wished tliat not a moment should be lost, that they might ac- 
 quire, a legal character which should command the respect of the 
 court. A small number, wishing to impede the operations of the as- 
 sembly, became extremely violent and uttered furious cries. The two 
 parties, ranged on the two sides of a long table, reciprocall/ threaten- 
 ed each other. Bailly, phiccd at the centre, was called upon by the 
 one to adjourn tlie assembly, by the other to put the motion for 
 constituting themselves to the vote. Unshaken amidst shouts and 
 abuse, lie continued for more than an hour motionless and silent. The 
 weather was temj)cstuous; the wind blew with violence into the hall, 
 and added to the tumult. At length the brawlers withdrew. Bailly, 
 then addressing the assembly, which had recovered its tranrpiillity on 
 the retirement of those by whom it had been disturbed, recommended 
 it to defer till daylight the important act which was proposed. Tlis ad- 
 vice was adopted, and the assembly broke up, applauding his firmness 
 and prudence. 
 
 Accordingly, on the 17th, the proposition was taken into considera- 
 tion, and, by a majority of 4!)I votes against 90, the commons consti- 
 tuted themselves the National Assembly. Sicyes, again charged to 
 report the motives of this determination, did it with his accustomed 
 precision. 
 
 " The assembly, deliberating after the verification of the powers, 
 ascertain that it is already composed of representatives sent directly hy 
 ninety-six hundredths, at least, of the nation. Such a mass of deputa- 
 tion could not remain inactive on account of the deputies of certain 
 baillages, or of certain classes of citizens ; for the absent /^'/'O have 
 been called^ cannot prevent the pi'csent from exercising the plenitude 
 of their rights, especially when the exercise of those rights is an urgent, 
 an impe'rative duty. 
 
 " Moreover, as it belongs only to the verified representatives to con- 
 cur in the national will, and as all the verified representatives are to be 
 admitted into this assembly, it is iurther indispensable to conclude that 
 it belongs to it, and to it alone, to interpret and to represent the gene- 
 ral will of the nation. 
 
 " There cannot exist any t'c^o, any negative poATer, between the 
 throne and the assembly. 
 
 " The assembly therefore declares that the general labour of the na- 
 tional restoration can and ought to be begun by the deputies present, 
 and that they ought to prosecute it without interruption and witliout 
 impediment. 
 
 " The denomination of National Assembly is the only one suitable 
 to the assembly in the ])resent state of things, as well because the 
 members who compose it are the oidy representatives legitimately and 
 pidihcly known and verified, as because they are sent by nearly the 
 
46 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 whole of the nation ; and, lastly, because, the representation being one 
 and indivisible, none of the deputies, for whatever order or class he 
 lias been elected, has a right to exercise those functions separately 
 from this assembly. 
 
 " The assembly will never relinquish the hope of collecting in its 
 bosom all the deputies that are now absent ; it will not cease to call 
 them to fulfil the obligation imposed upon them to concur in the liold- 
 ijig of the States-General. At whatever moment the absent deputies 
 present themselves during the session that is about to be opened, h 
 declares beforehand, that it will be ready to receive them, and to share 
 with them, after the verification of their powers, the series of important 
 labours winch are to accomplish the regeneration of France." 
 
 Immediately after passing this resolution (arreU)^ the assembly, 
 desiring at once to perform an act of its power, and to prove that it had 
 no intention to impede the course of the administration, legalized the 
 levy of the taxes, though imposed without the national consent. With 
 a presentiment of its separation, it added that they should cease to be 
 levied from the day on which it should be broken up ; foreseeing, 
 moreover, a bankruptcy, the expedient left to power for putting an end 
 to the financial embarrassments, and dispensing with the national con- 
 currence, it satisfied prudence and honour by placing the creditors ol 
 the state under the safeguard of French integrity. Lastly, it annovmced 
 that it should immediately direct its attention to the causes of the 
 dearth and of the public distress. 
 
 These measures, which displayed equal courage and ability, pro- 
 duced a deep impression. The court and the higher orders were alarm- 
 ed at such courage and energy. Meanwhile, the clergy was tumul- 
 tuously deliberating Avhether it should join the commons. The multi- 
 tude awaited outside the hall the result of its deliberation ; the curts 
 at length carried the point, and it was learnt that the union had been 
 voted by a majority of 149 votes to 115. Those who had voted for 
 the junction were received with transports of applause ; the others 
 were abused and insulted by the populace. 
 
 This moment was destined to bring about a reconciliation between 
 tl«e court and the aristocracy. The danger was equal for both. The 
 last revolution was as prejudical to the King as to the two higher or- 
 ders themselves, whom the commons declared that they could dispense 
 with. The aristocracy immediately threw itself at the feet of the King. 
 The Duke of Luxembourg, the Cardinal de Larochefoucauld, the 
 yirclibishop of Paris, implored him to repress the audacity of the 
 ticrs-efat, and to support their rights, which were attacked. The 
 parliament proposed to him to do without the States, promising to 
 assent to all tlie taxes. The King was surrounded by the princes and 
 the Queen ; this was more than was requisite for his weakness : they 
 hurried him oflf to Marly in order to extort from him a vigorous 
 measure. 
 
 Necker, the minister, attached to the popular cause, confined himself 
 to useless remonstrances, which the King thought just whenliis mind 
 was left free, but the effect of which the court soon took good care to 
 acstroy. As soon as he perceived the necessity for the interference of 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 47 
 
 the royal aathority, he formed apian Avhich, to liis courage, ai)pcv.r -d 
 very bold. He proposed that the monarch, in a royal sitting-, blionl,] 
 command the union of the orders, hut only for measures of general 
 interest; that he should assume to himself the sanction of all resolu- 
 tions adopted by the States-General ; that he should condemn before- 
 hand every institution hostile to moderate monarchy, such as that of 
 a single assembly ; lastly, that he should promise the abolition of pri- 
 vileges, the equaf admission of all Frenclunen to civil and military ap- 
 poiiitjncnts, &c. As Necker had not had the energy to outstrip time 
 for such a plan, so likewise he iiad not sufficient to ensare its exe- 
 cution. 
 
 The council had followed the King to jMarly. There Necker's 
 plan, at first approved, was subjected to discussion; all at once a 
 note was delivered to the King ; the council was suspended, resumed, 
 and adjourned till the following day, in spite of the necessity for the 
 utmost despatch. On the morrow, fresh members were added to the 
 council ; the King's brothers were of the number. Necker's ])lan 
 was modified ; he resisted, made some concessions, but finding him- 
 self vanquished, returned to Versailles. A page came three times 
 bringing him notes containing new modifications ; liis plan was wliolly 
 disfigured, and the royal sitting was fixed for the 2:2d of June. 
 
 It was as yet but the 20th, and already the hall of the States was 
 shut up, under tlie pretext that preparations were requisite for the 
 presence of the King. These preiiarations might have been made in 
 half a day ; but the clergy had deliberated the day before iij)on join- 
 nig the commons, and it was desirable to prevent this junction. An 
 order from the King instantly adiourned the sittinirs till the 2'2d. 
 Bailly, conceiving that he was bound to obey the assembly, which, on 
 Friday, the 19th, had adjourned to the next day, Saturday, repaired 
 to the door of the hall. It was surrounded by soldiers of the French 
 guard, ^vho had orders to refuse admittance to every one. The offi- 
 cer on duty received Bailly with respect, and allowed him access to a 
 court for the purpose of drawing up a protest. Some young hot- 
 headed deputies would have forced their way through the sentries ; 
 Bailly hastened to the spot, aj)peased them, and took them with him, 
 diat the generous officer, who executed the orders of authority with 
 such moderation, might not be compromised. The deputies collected 
 tumultuously ; they persisted in assembling ; some proposed to hold 
 a sitting under the very Avindows of the King, others proposed the 
 Teunis-Court. To the latter they instantly repaired ; the master 
 cheerfully gave it up to them. 
 
 The hall was spacious, but the walls were dark and bare. There 
 n'ere no seats. An arm-chair was offered to the president, who re- 
 fused it, and chose rather to stand with the assembly ; a bench served 
 for a desk : two deputies were stationed at the door as door-keepers, 
 and were soon relieved by the keeper of the place, who came and 
 ofTered his services. The populace thronged around, and the delibe- 
 ration commenced. Complaints were raised on all sides agamst this 
 suspension of the sittings, and various expedients were proposed to 
 prevent it in future The agitation increased, and the extreme partiea 
 
48 HISTOllY OF THE 
 
 began to work upon the imaginations of tliefr lieareis. It was 
 proposed to repair to Paris: this motion, hailed with enthusiasm, was 
 warmly supported ; and they began to tallt of proceeding thither in a 
 body and on foot. Bailly was apprehensive that violence might be 
 ofte.'ied to the assembly by the way : dreading, moreover, a rupture, 
 he opposed the sclieme. Mounier then proposed to the deputies to 
 bind themselves by oath not to separate before the establishment 
 of a constitution. This proposal was received Avith transport ; the 
 form of the oath %vas soon agreed upon. BailJy claimed the honour of 
 boing the first to take it, and read the form, which was as follows : — 
 " You take a solemn oath never to separate, and to assemble wliere- 
 ever circumstances shall require, till the constitution of the kingdom 
 is established and founded on a solid basis." This form, pronounced 
 in a loud and intelligible voice, was heard outside the building. All 
 'i|;s instantly repeated tlie oath ; all hands were outstretched towards 
 Bailly, who, standing and motionless, received this solemn engage- 
 ment to ensure by laws the exercise of the national rights. Tiie 
 crowd instantly raised loud shouts of Vive V AsscmhUe ! vive le Roi! 
 as if to prove that, without any feeling of anger or animosity, but 
 from duty, it reclaimed what was its due. The deputies then pro- 
 ceeded to sign the declaration whicli they had just made. One only, 
 Martin d'Auch, added to his name the word opposer. A great tunudt 
 took place around him. Bailly, in order to be heard, mounted upon 
 a table, addressed the deputy with moderation, and represented to 
 him that he had a right to refuse his signature, but not to form an op- 
 position. The deputy persisted ; and the assembly, out of respect 
 for its liberty, allowed the word to stand, and to be inserted in the 
 minutes. 
 
 This new act of energy excited the apprehensions of the nobility, 
 who went on the following day to lay their lamentations at the King's 
 feet, to excuse themselves in some measure for the restrictions which 
 they had introduced into the plan of conciliation, and to solicit liis 
 assistance. The noble minority protested against this step, maintain- 
 ing with reason that it was no longer time to solicit the royal interfer- 
 ence, after having so unseasonably refused it. This minority, too 
 little attended to, was composed of forty-seven members, among 
 whom were enliij-htencd military officers and mao-istrates — the Did<e 
 de Liancourt^ a generous friend to his King and to liberty ; the Duke 
 de la Rochefoucauld, distinguished for inflexible virtue and great abili- 
 ties ; Lally-ToUendal, already celebrated for his father's misfortunes 
 and Ids clo(iuent reclamations ; Clermont-Tonnerre, remarkable for 
 his elofpience ; the brothers Lameth, young colonels, known for their 
 intelligence and their bravery ; Duport, already noticed for his cxtra- 
 ordiimry capacity and firmness of character; and lastly, the JMarquis 
 de La Fayette, the defender of American freedom, and comhi:i!ng 
 with French vivacity the perseverance and the simphcity of Wash- 
 ington. 
 
 Intrigues retarded all the operations of the court. The sitting, at 
 first fixed for Monday the 2:id, was postponed till the 23d. A note 
 ^vritten very late to Bailly, and at the termination of the great council 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 49 
 
 acquainted him witli tliis postponement, and proved tlie agitation 
 M'hich pervaded all minds. Necker had resolved not to attend tlie 
 sitting, that he might not sanction by liis presence plans Avliicli he 
 disapproved. 
 
 Petty means, the ordinary resource of a feeble authority, were em- 
 ])Ioyed to prevent the meeting of Monday the 2~d. 'i'\]e piinces 
 i'ircd the Tennis-Court for the purpose of playing on that day. The 
 assembly repaired to the church of St. Louis, where it received the 
 mnjority of the clergy, with the Archbishop of Vienne at its head. 
 This junction, marked by the utmost dignity, excited the greatest joy. 
 The clci'gy came, it was said, to submit to the common vcrihcation. 
 
 The fallowing day, the 23d, Avas that fixed for the royal sitting. 
 The deputies of the commons Avcre to enter by a side door, a differ- 
 ent one from that reserved for the nobility and clergy. If violence 
 could not be employed, they were not spared humiliations. Thej 
 waited a long time exposed to the rain : the president was obliged to 
 knock at the door; it was not opened. lie knocked rejx'atedly, 
 and was told it was not yet time. The deputies \vere about to 
 retire, when I'ailly again knocked. I'he door was at length onened ; 
 the deputies entered, and found the two higher orders in i)ossession of 
 their seats, which they had been desirous to secuje by oceiipying them 
 beforehand. Tlie sitting was not, like that of the 5th of May, at once 
 majestic and touching, from a certain effusion of sentiments antl hopes. 
 A numerous soldiery, a sullen silence, distinguished it from the former 
 solemnity. The de])uties of the commons had resolved to keep the 
 most jirofound silence. 7^he King addressed the assembly, and be- 
 trayed his weakness by using expressions far too energetic lor his cha- 
 racter. He was made to launch reproaches, and to issue commands. 
 lie enjoined the separation into orders; annulled the preceding reso- 
 lutions {(/rrclcs) of the ^/fr5-t;/«/, promising to sanction the abdication 
 of the pecuniary privileges when they should be relinquished by the 
 holders. lie maintained all the feudal rights, both useful and hono- 
 rary, as inviolable property. He did not order the meeting of the 
 three estates on matters of general interest, but lield out Iiopes of it 
 from the moderation of the higher orders. Thus he enforced the 
 obedience of the commons, and contented himself with presuming 
 that of the aristocracy. He left the nobility and clergy judges of 
 what specially concerned tliein, and concluded with saying, that if he 
 met with fresh obstacles he would singly establish the welfare of his 
 people, and that he considered himself as its sole representative. This 
 tone, this language, deeply incensed the minds of the commons, not 
 against the Ring, who had feebly represented passions not his own, 
 but against the aristocracy, whose instrument he was. 
 
 As soon as he had finished this address, he ordered the assembly to 
 separate immediately. The nobility followed him, together with part 
 of the clergy. The majority of the ecclesiastical deputies remained ; 
 the deputies of the commons, without moving, preserved profound si- 
 lence. IMirabeau, who put himself forward on all occasions, then 
 rose. " Gentlemen," said he, " I admit that what you have just 
 heard might be the salvation of the country, if the gifts of despotism 
 
 VOL. I. — 7 
 
60 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 were not always dangerous The ostentatious display of ariii3 
 
 the violation of tlie national temple ... to command you to be ]ia])py ; 
 . . . Where are tlie enemies of the nation 1 Is Catihne at our doors 1 
 I demand that, covering yourselves with your dignity, your legislative 
 power, you adhere religiously to your oath : it forbids you to separate 
 before you have framed the constitution." 
 
 The iMarquis de Breze, grand-master of the ceremonies, then re- 
 turned. " You have heard the orders of the King," said he, address- 
 ing Bailly. Bailly replied, " I am going to take those of the assem- 
 bly." Mirabeau stepped forward. " Yes, sir," he exclaimed, " we 
 have heard the intentions that have been suggested to the King ; but 
 you have neither voice, nor place, nor right to speak, here. How- 
 ever, to avoid all delay, go and tell your master that we are here by 
 the power of the people, and that nothing but the power of bayonets 
 shall drive us away." M. de Brez6 retired. Sieyes then said : " We 
 are to-day what we were yesterday ; let us deliberate." The assem- 
 bly collected itself to deliberate on the maintenance of its preceding 
 resolutions [arretes). " The first of these resolutions," said Barnave, 
 " has declared what you are ; the second relates to the taxes, which 
 you alone have a right to grant ; the third is the oath to do your duty. 
 None of these measures needs the royal sanction. The King cannot 
 prevent that to which his assent is not required." At this moment 
 workmen arrived to take away the benches ; armed soldiers crossed 
 the hall ; others surrounded the outside ; the life-guard advanced to 
 the very door. The assembly continued its proceedings without in- 
 terruption ; the members kept their scats, and the votes were collected. 
 They were unanimous for upholding the preceding resolutions. That 
 was not all : amidst the royal town, surrounded by the sei*vants of the 
 court, without the aid of that populace since so formidable, the as- 
 sembly was liable to be threatened. IMirabeau repaired to the tribune, 
 and proposed to decree the inviolability of every deputy. The assem- 
 bly, opposing to force but one majestic will, immediately declared 
 each of its members inviolable, and proclaimed every one who should 
 ofter them violence a traitor, infamous, and guilty of a capital crime. 
 
 Meanwhile, the nobility, who looked upon the state as saved by 
 this " bed of justice," presented its congratulations to the prince who 
 had furnished the idea of it, and carried them from the prince to the 
 Queen. The Queen, holding her son in her arms, and showing him 
 to these devoted servants, received their oaths, and unfortunately 
 abandoned herself to a blind confidence. At this very moment shouts 
 were heard : every one ran to inquire the meaning of them, and learned 
 that the people, assembling in crowds, were applauding Necker be- 
 cause he had not attended the royal sitting. Alarm instantly took the 
 p.ace of joy ; the King and Queen sent for Necker, and those august 
 personages wgyg obliged to entreat hiin to retain his portfolio. The 
 minister complied, and transferred to the court a part of that popu- 
 larity which he liad acquired by absenting himself from that fatal 
 sittinir. 
 
 Thus was cUVrTed tlie first Rpvolntion. The tkrs-itat had reco- 
 rered the legislative power, and its adversaries had lost it by attempt 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 51 
 
 ing to keep It entirely to themselves. In a few days, this .egislativo 
 revolution was completely consummated. Recourse was still had to 
 petty annoyances, such as interrupting the internal communications 
 in the halls of the States ; but they were unsuccessful. On the 24th, 
 the majority of the clergy proceeded to the assembly, and demanded 
 the verification in common, in order to deliberate afterwards on the 
 proposals made by tlie King in the sitting of the 23d of June. The 
 minority of the clergy continued to deliberate in its own chamber. 
 Juigne, Archbishop of Paris, a virtuous prelate and a benefactor of 
 the people, but a stickler for privileges, was pursued, and forced to 
 promise to join the assembly. He accordingly repaired to the Na- 
 tional Assembly, accompanied by the Archbishop of Bordeaux, a 
 popular prelate, Avho was afterwards minister. 
 
 The nobility was in a state of the greatest agitation. Its ordinary 
 instigators inflamed its passions : d'Espremenil proposed to prosecute 
 the tkrs-etat, and to direct proceedings to be instituted against it by 
 the attorney-general : the minority proposed the reunion. This mo- 
 tion was rejected amidst tumult. The Duke of Orleans supported the 
 motion, after having, on the preceding day, given a promise to the 
 contrary to the Polignacs. Forty-seven members, having determined 
 to join the general assembly, in spite of the decision of the majority, 
 repaired to it in a body, and were received with demonstrations of 
 public joy. But, notwithstanding the rejoicing caused by their pre- 
 sence, their looks were sad. " We yield to our conscience," said 
 Clermont-Tonnerre, " but it is with pain that we separate our- 
 selves from our colleagues. We have come to concur in the public 
 regeneration ; each of us will let you know the degree of activity 
 wJHcIi his mission allows him." 
 
 Every day brought fresh accessions, and the assembly saw the 
 number of its members increase. Addresses poured in from all parts, 
 expressing the good wishes and the approbation of the towns and 
 provinces. IMounier prompted those of Daupliin6 ; Paris sent one, 
 and even the Palais Royal despatched a deputation, which the assem- 
 bly, as yet encompassed with dangers, received, that it might not 
 alienate the multitude. At that time it did not foresee the excesses of 
 the populace ; it had need, on the contrary, to presume its energy, and 
 to hope for its support : many, however, doubted the courage of the 
 people, which was as yet but a pleasing dream. Thus the plaudits of 
 the tribunes, frequently annoying to the assembly, had nevertheless 
 supported it, and the assembly durst not prevent them. Bailly would 
 have complained, but his voice and his motion were drowned by 
 thundering applause. 
 
 Tliu majority of the nobility continued its sittings, amidst tumul: 
 and the most violent animosities. Terror seized those who directed 
 it, and the signal for reunion was made by those wcry persons who 
 had pieviously preached resistance. But its passions, already too 
 much r-xcited, were not easily guided. The King was obliged to 
 write a letter; the court, the grandees, were humbled to entreaties. 
 " The junction will be transient," it was said to the most obstinate; 
 " troops are approacliin^; gi/e way to save the Ring." Consent was 
 
52 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 extorted amidst uproar, and tlie majority of the nobility, accompanied 
 by the minority of tlie clergy, proceeded, on the 27th of June, to the 
 general assembly. The Duke of Luxembourg, speaking in the name 
 of all, said that they were come to pay a mark of respect to the King, 
 and to give a proof of patriotism to the nation. " The family is 
 complete," replied Bailly. Supposing that the assemblage was entire, 
 and that the question was not to verify but to deliberate in common, 
 he added : " Wc can now attend without intermission and without 
 distraction to the regeneration of the kingdom and of the public 
 weal." 
 
 Many petty artifices were still employed to avoid the appearance 
 of havhig done what necessity imperatively required. The new 
 comers always entered after the opening of the sittings, all in a body, 
 so as to give themselves the look of an order. They affected to stand 
 behind the president, or, at least, not to appear to sit. Bailly, whh 
 great moderation and firmness, at length overcame all resistance, and 
 prevailed on them to be seated. Attempts were also made to displace 
 inm from the presidency, not by main force, but sometimes by secret 
 negociation, at others oy stratagem. Bailly retained it, not out of 
 ambition but out of duty ; and a plain citizen, known only by his 
 virtues and his talents, was seen presiding over all the grandees ot' 
 the kingdom and the church. 
 
 It was too evident that the legislative revolution was accomplished. 
 Though the subject of the first dispute was solely the mode of verifi- 
 cation, and not the manner of voting; though some had declared 
 that they joined merely for the common verification, and others in 
 obedience to the royal intentions as expressed on the 23d of June; 
 it was certain that the voting by individuals had become inevitable: 
 all remonstrance therefore was useless and impolitic. The Cardinal 
 de Larochefoucauld, nevertheless, protested, in the name of the mi- 
 nority, and declared that he had joined solely to deliberate on general 
 subjects, still retaining the right to form an order. The Archbishop 
 of Vienne replied with warmth, that the minority had not had the 
 power to decide anything in the absence of the majority of the clergy, 
 and that it had no right to speak in the name of the order. Mirabeau 
 inveighed strongly against this pretension, observing, that it was strange 
 any one should protest in the assembly against the assembly. " You 
 must," said he, " either recognize its sovereignty or retire." 
 
 The question of imperative instructions was next brought forward. 
 Most of the instructions expressed the wishes of the electors respect- 
 ing the reforms to be eftccted, and rendered these wishes obligatory 
 on the deputies. Before they stirred, it was necessary to ascertain to 
 what point they could go : this question, therefore, could not but be 
 the first. It was taken up, and resumed several times. Some were 
 for rnturning to their constituents ; others were of opinion that they 
 coukl not receive from the constituents any other mission than that 
 of voting for them after subjects should have been discussed by the 
 representatives of the whole nation, but they were not of opinion tlial 
 deputies could receive instructions ready made beforehand. If we 
 ftssurae, in f;RCt, that we have no power to make laws but in a genern^ 
 
FRENCH REVOLl; TION. 53 
 
 council, either because we meet with more intellijrence the hioher we 
 rise, or because we cannot come to any decision but when all the parts 
 of the nation have reciprocally understood one another, then, indeed, 
 it is true that tlie deputies ou(2;ht to he free and unshackled by obhf!;a- 
 tory instructions. Mirabeau, sharpening reasoning by irony, observed, 
 that " those who considered the instructions as imperative, had dono 
 wrong to come ; they had but to leave instructions on their benches, 
 and those papers would fill their seats as well as they." Sieyes, willi 
 his usual sagacity, foreseeing that, notwithstanding the perfect! v just 
 decision of the assembly, a great number of members would fldl back 
 upon their oaths, and that by taking refuge in their consciences they 
 would render themselves unassailable, moved the order of the day, 
 upon the ground that each was the best judge of tlie validity of tlie 
 oatli which hT3 had taken. " Those," said he, " who deem them- 
 selves bound by their instructions, shall be considered as absent, just 
 the same as those who refused to verify their powers in genera) assem- 
 bly." This judicious opinion was adopted. The assembly, by having 
 recourse to constraint, would have furnished the opposers with pre- 
 texts ; whereas, by leaving them free, it was sure to bring them over 
 to its own way of thinking: for thenceforth its victory Avas certain. 
 
 The object of the new convocation was the reform of the state, that 
 is, the establishment of a constitution, whicli France as yet had not, 
 whatever may be said to the contrary. If any kind of relations 
 between the governed and the government are to be so called, then 
 indeed France possessed a constitution ; a king had commanded, and 
 subjects obeyed; ministers had arbitrarily imprisoned; contractors 
 had wrung the last ^/c///cr from the people ; parliaments had sentenced 
 unfortunate wretches to the wheel. The most barbarous nations have 
 such kinds of constitutions. There had been States-General* in 
 France, but without precise powers, without fixed times for meeting 
 again, and always without results. There had been a royal autho- 
 rity, alternately null or absolute. There had been sovereign tribu- 
 nals or courts, which frequently combined the legislative with tlic 
 judicial power. But tliere was no law to ensure the responsibility of 
 the agents of power, the liberty of the press, individual liberty; in 
 short, all the guarantees which, in the social state, make amends for 
 the fiction of natural liberty.! 
 
 ** Philippe le Bel was tin? first Frencli monarch who convoked the States-General, 
 in 130:5. Jean le Bon, in V,)m, also called togi.-ther the national assemblies, or " les 
 Champ-? do JNIars ;" and these assemhlles liave since that period always retained the 
 title of States-General The clergy had as tlicir president the Archbishop of llheinis; 
 Gaulhier de Brienne was chosen by the nobles; and fliarcel, the flayer of Paris, 
 was at the head of the ticrs-kat. 
 
 1 1 support with notes and quotations only such passages as are susceptible ofbeuig 
 dicputed. The question, whether we had a constitution, seems to me one of the 
 most important of the revolution ; for it is the absence of a fundamental law ihatjusti 
 fies our having determined to give ourselves one. On this point, 1 think it impossi- 
 ble to quote an authority more respectable and less suspicious than that of 31. Lally 
 Tollendal. On the lOih of July, ]730, that excellent citizen delivered a speech in tli« 
 chamber of the nobility, the greater part of which is subjoined. 
 
 " Long reproaches, tinctured moreover with considerable acrimony, have been 
 made, gentlemen, against members of this assismbly, who, with equal pain and TQ 
 serve, have expressed doubts on what is called our constitution. This subject has 
 
54 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 The. want of a constitution was acknowledged and generally Mt% 
 all the instructions had energetically expressed it, and entered into q 
 formal explanation of the fundamental principles of that constitution. 
 They had unanimously prescribed the monarchical government, here- 
 
 not peiliaps a very direct connexion with that at present under discussion ; but since 
 It has afforded ground for accusation, lei it also furnish one for defence ; and perojit 
 me to address a few words to the authors of these reproaches. 
 
 " You have assuredly no law which enacts that the States-General are an integral 
 p.'jrt of the sovereignty, for you are demanding one ; and, up to this day, sometimes 
 a decree of council forbade tliem to deliberate, at others a decree of parliament an 
 nulled their deliberations. 
 
 " You have no law that fixes the periodical return of your States-General, for you 
 arc demanding one; and it is one hundred and seventy-five years since they woire 
 assembled. 
 
 " You have no law to protect your individual safety and liberty from arbitrary at- 
 tacks, for you are demanding one; and, during the reign of a King whose justice ia 
 Known and whose probity is respected by all Europe, ministers have caused your 
 magistrates to be torn from the sanctuary of the laws by armed satellites. In the 
 preceding reign, all the magistrates in the kingdom were dragged from their seats, 
 from their homes, and scattered by e.xile, some on the tops of mountains, others 
 in tlie slough of marshes, all in situations more obnoxious than the most horrible of 
 prisons. Go back still farther, and you will find a hundred thousand IcUrcsdc cachet 
 issued on account of paltry theological squabbles; and farther still, and you see as 
 many sanguinary commissions as arbitrary imprisonments; nay, you will find no 
 spot on which you can repose till you come to the reign of your good Henry. 
 
 " You have no law whicli establishes the liberty of the press, for you are demand- 
 ing one ; and up to this time your thoughts have been enslaved, your wishes chained; 
 the cry of your hearts under opi^ression has been stifled, sometunes by the despotism 
 of individuals, at others by the still more terrible despotism of bodies. 
 
 " You have not, or at least you no longer have, a law requiring your consent to 
 taxes, for you are demanding one ; and, for two centuries past, you have been bur- 
 dened with more than three or four hundred millions of taxes without having consent- 
 ed to a single one. 
 
 " You have no law which establishes the responsibility of all the ministers of tlie 
 executive power, for you are demanding one ; and the creators of those sanguinary 
 commissions, the issuers of those arbitrary orders, thedilapidators of the public exche- 
 quer, the violators of the sanctuary of public justice, those who have imposed upon 
 the virtues of one king, those who flattered the passions of another, those who 
 brought disasters upon the nation, have been called to no account — have undergone 
 no punishment. 
 
 "Lastly, you have no general, positive, written law, no diploma at once royal and 
 national, no great charter, upon which rests a fixed and invariable order, from which 
 each learns how much of his liberty and property he ought to sacrifice for the sake 
 of preserving the rest, which ensures ail rights, which defines all powers. On the 
 contrary, the system of your government has varied from reign to reign, frequently 
 from ministry to ministry ; it has depended on the age and the character of one man. 
 In minorities, under a weak prince, the royal authority, which is of importance to 
 the prosperity and the dignity of the nation, has been indecen'.iy degraded, either by 
 the great, who with one hand shook the throne and v/:th the other crushed the peo- 
 ple, or by bodies which at one time seized with temerity what at another they had 
 defended with courage. Under haughty princos who had flattered, under virluona 
 princes who were deluded, this same authority has been carried beyond all bounds. 
 Your secondary powers, your intermediate powers, as you call them, have not been 
 either better defined or more fixed. Sometimes the parliaments have laid it down 
 as a principle that they could not interl'ere in allairs of state ; at others, they have 
 insisted that it was their prerogative to discuss them as representatives of the nation. 
 On the one hand were seen proclamations making known the will of the king, on 
 •Jie otlier decrees, in which the king's officers forbade, in the king's name, the execu 
 lion of the king's orders. Among the courts the like discord prevails; they quarrel 
 nbout their origin, their functions ; lliey mutually launch anathemas at each other bl 
 ibfiir decrees 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 55 
 
 ditary succession from male to male, the exclusive attribution of the 
 executive power to the King, the responsibility of all agents, the cou- 
 currcnce of the nation and the King in the making of laws, the votinf* 
 of the taxes, and individual liberty. But they were divided on the 
 creation of one or two legislative chambers, on the permanence, the 
 periods for the meeting, and the dissolution of the legislative body ; on 
 the political existence of the clergy and the parliaments ; on the ex- 
 tent of the liberty of the press. All these questions, either solved or 
 proposed in the instructions, plainly show to what a degree the pub- 
 lic mind was at that time awakened in all parts of the kingdom, and 
 how generally and decisively the wish for liberty was expressed in 
 France.* liuL the founding of an entire constitution amid the rubbish 
 
 " I set limits to these details, wliicli I could extend ml infmitiiin ,■ but if all these 
 are incontestable facts, if you liave noneof tiiese lawswhicti 1 huvejii>t enunierated 
 and which you demand, or if, having them — and pay particular altenlion to this 
 point — if, having ihein, you have not that which enforces their execution, that which 
 guarantees their accomplishment and maintains their stability, explain to us what you 
 understand by the word coustitnllon, and adntit at least that some indnl^'cnce is due to 
 those who cannot help entertaining some doubts of the existence of ours. You are told 
 continually to rally round this constitution: let us rather lose sight of that phantom 
 to substitute a reality in its stead. And us for the term ujHOi'«/io«s, as lor the ajipella- 
 tion of innovators, which is coiistaiuly levelled at us, let us admit that the lir^-t inno- 
 vators are in our hands, that the first innovators are our instructions; let us respect, 
 let us bless this happy innovation, which must put every thing in its place, which must 
 render all rights inviolable, all tlie authorities beneliceiil, and all the subjects happy. 
 
 " It is this constitution, gentlemen, that I wi-;h for; it is this constitution that is tho 
 object for which we were sent hither, and which ought to be the aim of all our la- 
 bours ; it is this constitution which is shocked at the mere idea of the address that is 
 proposed to us — an address which would compromise the King as well as the na- 
 tion — an address, in short, which appears to me so dangerous that nut only will I 
 oppose It to the utmost, but that, were it possible it could be adopted, I should feel 
 myself reduced to the paiiil'nl necessity of protesting solenuily against it." 
 
 * It may not be amiss to introduce here the summary of the instructions submitted 
 to the National Assembly by M. de Clerinont-Tonnerre. It is a good sketch of the 
 state of opinions at this period, throughout France. In this point ol" view the sum 
 iniu'y is extremely important; and, though Paris exercised an inHiience upon the 
 drawing up of these instructions, it is not the less true that the provinces had the 
 greatest share in them. 
 
 Report of the Committee of Constitution, containing a Sinnmanj of the Instructions rcla 
 
 ticcto this suhjrci, read to the National Assembly by M. the Count dc Cltnnont-Tonncrre, 
 
 in the sitting of July 27, 1789. 
 
 " Gentteuicn — You are called to regenerate the French empire : to (his great 
 work you bring both your own wisdom and the wisdom of your con-.liluents. 
 
 " We have thought it right first to collect and present to you the siiggesiions scat- 
 tered over the prea'er number of your instructions; we sh;dl then submit to you 
 the particular views of your committee, and those whicli it has been, or shall be, en- 
 abled to collect from the ditTerent plans, and the ditierent obser\atioii--, uhicii have 
 been, or which shall be, commuaicated or transmitted to it by the members of this 
 august assembly. 
 
 "It is of the first part of tliis labour, gentlemen, that we are about to render you 
 an account. 
 
 " Our constituents, gentlemen, are all agreed upon one point : they desire tlie re 
 generation of the state ; but some have expected it from the mere reform of abu 
 sea. and from the re-establishment of a constitution existing for fourteen centurie« 
 past, and which appeared to them capable of being yet revived, if the injuries which 
 tt has suffered from time, and the numerous insurrections of private interest against 
 the public interest, were to be repaired. 
 
 " Others have considered the existing social system as so faulty, tliat they have d« 
 
50 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 of an ancient legislation, in spite of all opposition and the wild flights 
 of many minds, was a great and difficult work. Besides the disagree- 
 ments which diversity of interests could not fail to produce, the natu- 
 ral divergence of opinions was also to be dreaded. An entire Icgisla- 
 
 manded a new constitution, and that, with the exception of the monarchical govorn- 
 nient and forms, which it is an inmite i'eeWns of every Frenchman to love and to 
 respect, and which they have ordered yon to maintain, they have given to you all 
 the powers necessary lor creating a constitution, and for fonndmg the prosperity oi 
 the French empire on sure principles, and on the distinction and regular constitu- 
 tion of all the powers. These latter, gentlemen, have thought that tlie Hrst chapter 
 of the constitution ought to contain a declaration of the rights of man, oi" those im- 
 prescriptible rights for the maintenance of which society was estahlished. 
 
 " The demand of this declaration of the rights of man, so constantly mJsconcehtJ, 
 may be said to be the only difference th:\t exists between the instructions which de- 
 sire a new constitution, and those wdiich demand only the re-establishment of tJmt 
 which they regard as the existing constitution. 
 
 " Both the one and the other have alike fixed their ideas upon the principles oJ 
 monarchical goverinnent, npon the existence of the power and the organization of the 
 legislative body, upon the necessity of the national assent to taxes, npon the orgam- 
 zation of the a'dministrative bodies, and npon the rights of the citizens. 
 
 " We shall advert, gentlemen, to these different subjects, and submit to you on 
 each, as decision, the uniform results, and, as questions, the ditYering or contradictory 
 results, presented by such of your instructions as it has been in our power to analj'zc, 
 or to procure the substance of. 
 
 " 1. The monarchical government, the inviolability of the sacred person of the king, 
 and the hereditary descent of the crown from male to male, are alike acknowletlged 
 and sanctioned by the great majority of the instructions, and are not called in f^ues- 
 lion by any. 
 
 " 2. The king is, in like manner, acknowledged as the depositary of the exe utive 
 power in all its plenitude. 
 
 '' 3. The responsibility of all the agents of authority is generally demanded. 
 
 '' 4 Some of the instructions assign to the king the legislative power, limited by 
 the constitutional and fundamental laws of the kingdom; others admit that the king, 
 in the interval between one session of the States-General and another, can, singly, 
 make laws of police and administration, which shall be but provisional, and for 
 which they require free registration in the sovereign courts; one haillage has even 
 required that tiie registration shall not take place without the consent of two thirds 
 of the intermediate commissions of the district assemblies. The greater number of 
 the instructions acknowledge the necessity of the royal sanction for thepromnlgatiou 
 of the laws. 
 
 " With respect to the legislative power, most of the instructions recognise it as 
 residing in the national representation, on condition of the royal sanction ; and it ap- 
 pears that this ancient maxim of the capitularies, Lex fit consensu populi ct conslilutiont 
 regis, is almost generally adopted by your constituents. 
 
 "As to the organization of the national representation, the questions on which you 
 have to lecide relate to the convocation, or to the duration, or to the composition, of 
 Ihe national representation, or to the mode of deliberation proposed to it by your 
 constituents. 
 
 " As to the convocation, some have declared that the States-General cannot be 
 dissolved but by themselves; others, that the right of convoking, proroguing, and 
 dissolving, belongs to the king, on the sole condition, in case of dissolution, that he 
 shall immediately issue a fresh convocation. 
 
 " As to the duration, some have required that the sessions of the states shall be pe- 
 riodical, and insisted that the periodical recnrrenceshould notdcpend either on the will 
 or the interest of the depositories of autiiority : others, but in smaller number, have 
 demanded the pennanunce ol" the States-General, so that the separation oi'the mem 
 i)ers should not Involve the dissolution of the states. 
 
 "The system ol' periodical sessions has given rise to a second question: Shall 
 tJiere or shall tlicre not be an intermediate commission in the intervals between the 
 Bcssious? The majority O'f vour constituents have considered the eetablishmcnt of all 
 UJicriDfidiate connnissioi: as a dangerous expedient. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 57 
 
 tion, to be given to a great people, excites their minds so powerfully 
 inspires tiicin with plans so vast and liopes so chimerical, that mca. 
 surcs cither vague or exaggerated, and frequently hostile, are natu- 
 rally to be expected from them. In order to give regularity to the 
 
 "As to llio composition, someliave insisted on tlie separation of the three orders; 
 hut, in regard to tliis point, the c,\ten>-ion of tlie powers a\ hicli several reprcseiila- 
 tionsiiave already oljtaiaed, leaver, no doubt, a greater latitude for llie solution of 
 this qneslion. 
 
 " iii)\nci liriillt/ircs have demanded the junction of the two Jiigher orders in one and 
 the same chamber; others, the suppros.'^ion of the cler^'y, and the division of its mem- 
 bers ijctween the other two orders ; olher-^, ihat the representation of the nobdity shoidd 
 be doulilc that of the clergy, and tliat both together should he equal to that of tiio 
 comm(ni>i. 
 
 " Ojie biiiUdgc, in demanding tlie junction of the two higlier orders, has demanded 
 the cstablishmi'iit of a third, to he enlided the order oi' tlie fiirmers (vnlrc dis cain- 
 ■j)a(rnr.s). It haslikewise been proposed, that any per.-on holding olliee, enijdoy, or 
 place at court, sliall be disfpuililied to bea deputy to the >States-Geueral. Lastly, tho 
 uiviolabihty of the pei'^ons of the deputies is recogni-fd by die greater number of 
 the btiilli/irt s, and not contested by any. As to the niode of dehlieration, the question 
 of opinion by individnals, and of opinion by orders, is solved : some baUlugcs rcqiiirQ 
 Uvo lliirds of the opinions to form a resolution. 
 
 " 'J'iie ne(i'-.-.itv oflhe national consent to taxes is geii'Mally admitted by your con- 
 etitueuts, and e-.tallll-^hed by all your inslnietious : ;dl hunt the dtu'alion of a tax to 
 the period whieh you ^hall have li.M'd, a period which slndl in no case extend further 
 than from oui; convocation to another ; and this imperative clause has appeared to 
 nil your constituents the surest guarantee of the per[ieluity of }our national assem- 
 blies. 
 
 " Loans being but an indirect tax, tliey have deemed it right that they sliould bo 
 subji.'cti.'d to the same princi[tles. 
 
 " >^o]ni: Ixiii/ttgcs have excepted from imposts foraterni such as should be destined 
 for the lifpiidation of the national deijt, and ha\e expressed their opinion that these 
 ought lo be levied until its entire cvtinctioii. 
 
 "As to the administrative bodies, or provincial states, all the instructions demand 
 of you their estabh>hment, and most of them leave their organization to your wis- 
 dom. 
 
 " L'lsdy, the rights of the citizens, liberty, property, are claimed witn energy by 
 the wiiide French nation. It claims for each of its members the inviolability of 
 private propi'rty, as it claims lor itself the inviolability of the public property; it 
 claims in all itsextent individual liberty, as it has just established for ever the national 
 liberty ; it claims the liberty of the press, or the free communication of thought ; 
 It inveighs witli indignation against kttns dc carltct, which dispose in an arbitrary 
 manner of persons, and against the violation of the secrecy of the jjost, one of the 
 most absurd and most infanious inventions of despotism. 
 
 "Amidst this concurrence of claims, we have remarked, gentlemen, some particu- 
 lar modifications relative to Icitrcs dc cachet and the liberty of the press. Y:u will 
 weigh them in your wisdom; you will no doubt cheer up lliat sentiment of French 
 Inuioiir, which in its horror of disgrace, has sometimes misconceived justice, and 
 which will no doubt he as eager to submit to the law when it shall command tho 
 ptroiig, as it was lo withdraw itself from its control when it pressed only upon the 
 weak; yon will calm the uneasiness of religion, so fn'(|uently assailed by Jibuls in the 
 timeol'ihe prohibitory system ; and the clerg\ , recollecting that licentiousness was long 
 the companion of slavery, will itself acknowledge that the first and the natural cfTect 
 of liberty is the return of order, of decency, and of respect for the objects of the pub- 
 lic veneration. 
 
 " Such, gentlemen, is the account which your committee has conceived itself 
 bound to render of that jiart of your instructions which treats of the constitution 
 You will there llnd, no doubt, all the foundation-stones of the edifice which you aro 
 chargctl to raise to its full height; but yoa will {lerhaps miss in them that order, that 
 unity ol' political combination, without wliicii the social system will always exhibit 
 numerous defects : the powers are there indicated, but they are not yet distinguished 
 with the necessary piecision; the orgiuization of the national representation is not 
 VOL. I. 8 
 
58 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 proceedings, a committee was appointed to measure tlieir extent, and 
 to arrange their distribution. I'liis committee was composed of the 
 most moderate members of the Assemblj. Mounier, a cool-headed, 
 but obstinate man, was its most laborious and influential member; it 
 was he who drew up the order of the proceedings. 
 
 This difficulty of giving a constitution was not the only one that 
 
 Bufficiently established, the princii^Ies of eligibility are not laid in them: it is frow 
 your labours that those results are to spring. The nation has insisted on being free, 
 and it is you whom it has charged with its enfranchisement: the genius of France 
 has hurried, as it were, the march of the public mind. It has accumulated for you in 
 a few hours the experience which could scarcely be expected from many centuries. 
 You have it in your power, gentlemen, to give a constitution to France: tlie King 
 and the people demand one ; both the one and the other have deserved it. 
 
 " Ecsidt of the Analysis of the Instructions. 
 
 "I 
 << 
 
 " Art. 1. The French government is a monarchical government. 
 " 2. The person of the lung is inviolable and sacred. 
 "3. His crown is hereditary from male to male. 
 '* 4. The King is the depositary of the executive power. 
 '5. The agents of authority are responsible. 
 
 G. The royal sanction is necessary for the promulgation of the laws, 
 7. The nation makes laws with the royal sanction. 
 '8. The national consent is necessary for loans and taxes. 
 "9. Taxes can be granted only for the period from one convocation of the State*- 
 General to another. 
 
 " 10. Property shall be sacred. 
 
 " 11. Individual liberty shall be sacred. 
 
 ** Q_ucstio7is on which the ichole of the Instructions have not explained tJiemselves in a wiu 
 
 form manner. 
 
 "Art. 1. Does the King possess the legislative power, limited by the constitu 
 tionaJlaws of the kingdom ? 
 
 '•2. Can the King, singly, make provisional laws of police and administration in 
 the interval between the liolding of the States-General? 
 
 " 3. Shall these laws be sobject to free registration in the sovereign courts ? 
 
 "4. Can the States-General be dissolved only by themselves? 
 
 "5. Has theKnig alone the power to convoke, prorogue, and dissolve, the States- 
 General? 
 
 "6. In case of dissolution, is not the King obliged immediately to issue anew cou- 
 vocation ? 
 
 "7. Shall the Stales-General be permanent or periodical? 
 
 " 8. If they are periodical, shall there or shall there not be an intermediate com 
 mission ? 
 
 "9. Shall the two first orders meet together in one and the same chamber ? 
 
 " 10. Shall the two chambers be formed without distinction of orders 7 
 
 " 11. Shall the members of the order of the clergy be divided between the other 
 two orders? 
 
 " 12. Shall the representation of the clergy, nobility, and commons, be in the pro 
 portion of one, two, and three? 
 
 " 13. Shall there be established a third order, with the title of order of the farmers? 
 
 " 14. Can persons holding offices, employments, or places at court, be elected 
 deputies to the States-General ? 
 
 •' 15. Shall two thirds of the votes be necessary in order to form a resolution? 
 
 " 16. Shall taxes having for their object the liquidation of the national debt be levied 
 till its entire extinction? 
 
 " 17. Shall Icttrcs dc cachet be abolished or modified ? 
 
 '< 18. Shall the liberty of the cjress be indefinite or modified 7" 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 59 
 
 he Assembly had to surmount. Between an ill-disposed govemmen 
 and a starving populace, which required speedy relief, it was difficult 
 for it to avoid interferina: in the administration. DistrustinjT; the 
 supreme authority, and urged to assist the people, it could not help, 
 even without ambition, encroaching by degiees on the exec»itive 
 power. The clergy had already set it the example, by making to the 
 tiers-ttat the insidious proposal to direct its immediate attention to the 
 subJQct of the public subsistence. The Assembly, as soon as it was 
 formed, appointed a committee of subsistence, applied to the ministry 
 for information on the subject, proposed to favour the circulation of 
 provisions from province to province, to convey them officially to the 
 places where they were needed, aud to defray the expense by loans 
 and charitable contributions. The ministry communicated the effica- 
 cious measures which it had taken, and which Louis XVI., a careful 
 administrator, had favoured to the utmost of his power. Lally-Tol- 
 lendal proposed to issue decrees relative to free circulation ; upon 
 which Mounier objected that such decrees would require the royal 
 sanction, and this sanction, being not yet regulated, would be attended 
 with serious difficulties. Thus all sorts of obstacles combined toge- 
 tiier. It was requisite to make laws, though the legislative forms were 
 not fixed ; to superintend the administration without encroaching on 
 the executive authority ; and to provide against so many difficulties, in 
 spite of the ill-will of power, the opposition of interests, the jarring 
 of opinions, and the urgency of a populace recently awakened and 
 rousing itself, a few leagues from the Assembly, in the bosom of an 
 immense capital. 
 
 A very small distance separates Paris from Versailles, and a person 
 may traverse it several times in one day. All the disturbances in 
 Paris were, therefore, immediately known at Versailles, both to the 
 court and to the Assembly. Paris then exhibited a new and extraor- 
 dinary spectacle. The electors, assembled in sixty districts, refused 
 to separate after the elections, and they remained assembled either to 
 give instructions to their deputies, or from that fondness for agitation 
 which is always to be found in the human heart, and which bursts 
 forth with the greater violence the longer it has been repressed. They 
 had fared just the same as the National Assembly: being shut out of 
 their place of meeting, they had repaired to another ; they had finally 
 obtained admittance into the Hotel de Ville, and there they continued 
 to assemble and to correspond with their deputies. There were yet 
 no public prints that gave an account of the sittings of the National 
 Assembly ; people therefore felt it necessary to meet for the purpose 
 of learning and conversing upon events. The garden of the Palais 
 Royal was the theatre of the most numerous assemblages. This 
 magnificent garden, surrounded by the richest shops in Europe, and 
 forming an appurtenance to the palace of the Duke of Orleans, was 
 the rendezvous of foreigners, of debauchees, of loungers, and, above 
 all, of the most vehement agitators. The boldest harancrues were 
 delivered in the coffee-houses, or in the garden itself. There might 
 be seen an orator mounted upon a table, collecting a crowd around 
 him, and exciting them by the most furious language — language al« 
 
60 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 wa)'S unpunished — for there the mob reigned as sovereign. PI ere 
 men, supposed to be the tools of the Duke of Orleans, displayed tho 
 greatest violence. Tlie wealth of that prince, his well-known prodi- 
 gality, the enormous sums which he borrowed, his residence on the 
 spot, his ambition, though vague, all served to point accusation against 
 him.* History, without mentioning any name, is authorized, at least, 
 to declare that money was profusely distributed. If the sound part 
 of the nation was ardently desirous of liberty, if the restless and suf- 
 fering multhude resorted to agitation for the purpose of bettering its 
 condition, there were instigators who sometimes excited that multi- 
 tude, and perhaps directed some of its blows. In other respects, this 
 influence is not to be reckoned among the causes of the revolution, for 
 it is not with a little money and with secret manoeuvres that you can 
 convulse a nation of twenty-five millions of souls. 
 
 An occasion for disturbance soon occurred. The French guards, 
 picked men, destined to compose the King's guard, were at Paris ; 
 four companies were detached by turns to do duty at Versailles. Ijc- 
 sides the barbarity of the new discipline, these troops had reason to 
 complain also of that of their new colonel. At the pillage of Reveil- 
 lon's house they had certainly sliown some animosity against the 
 populace ; but they had subsequently been sorry for it, and, mingling 
 daily with the mob, they had yielded to its seductions. Moreover, 
 both privates and subalterns were aware that the door to promotion 
 was closed against them : they were mortified to see their young offi- 
 cers do scarcely any duty, showing themselves only on parade-days, 
 and after reviews not even accompanying the regiment to the barracks. 
 Here, as elsewhere, there had been a tiers-eiat, which had to do all 
 the work without receiving any share of the profit. Symptoms of 
 insubordination manifested themselves, and some of the privates were 
 confined in the Abbaye.f 
 
 * '' At this period, a report, whicii liad long been circulated, assumed a semblance 
 of truth. The Duke of Orleans had been accused of being at the head of a party, 
 and the newspapers of the day employed his name in the hints which lliey daily set 
 forth, that France should follow the example of England. The Duke of Orleans 
 was fixed upon, because, in the English revolution, the direct line of the royal family 
 had been expelled in favour of the Prince of Orange. The thing was so often re- 
 peated, that the Duke of Oi'leans began at last to believe that he might jilace himself 
 at the head of a party, and become the leader of a faction, without the qualification 
 for such an office." — Memoirs of the Duchess (V Ahr antes. E. 
 
 f'The regiment of the French guards, consisting of 3G00 men, in the highest 
 Btate of discipline and erpiipment, had lor some time given alarming symptoms of 
 disafl'ection. Their colonel had ordered them, in consequence, to be confined to 
 their barracks, when three hundred of them broke out of their bounds, and repaired 
 instantly to the Palais Royal. They were received with enthusiasm, and liberally 
 plied with nioney, by the Orleans party; and to such a height did the transport rise, 
 that, how incredible soever it may appear, it is proved by the testimony of numerous 
 witnesses above all suspicion, that women of family and distinction openly embraced 
 the soldiers as they walked in tlie gardens with their mistresses. After these disor- 
 ders had continued for some time, eleven of the ringleaders in the mutiny were seized 
 and thrown in the prison of the Abbey; a mob of (3000 men immediately asspmblcd, 
 <brced the gates of the prison, and brought them back in triumph to the Palais Royal. 
 The King, upon the petition of the Assembly, pardoned the prisoners, and on the 
 following day they were walking in triumph through the streets of Paris." — Alison's 
 FreruJi Revolution. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 61 
 
 The men assembled at the Palais Royal, sliouting " To /he Ab- 
 baye!" the mob instantly ran thither. The doors were broken open, 
 and the soldiers brought oui, and carried away in triumpli. Whilst 
 the populace guarded tliem at the Palais Royal, a letter was written 
 to the Assembly, demanding their liberation. Placed betweeji the 
 people on the one hand and the government on the other, which was 
 suspected, since it was about to act in its own behalf, the Assembly 
 could not help interfering and committing an encroachment, by med- 
 dling with the public police. Taking a resolution, at once prudent 
 and adroit, it assured the Parisians of its desire for the maintenance 
 of good order, exhorted them not to disturb it, and at the same time 
 sent a deputation to the King to implore his clemency, as an infallible 
 mode of restoring peace and concord. The King, touched by its 
 moderation, promised his clemency when order should be re-esta- 
 blished. The French guards were immediately sent back to prison, 
 from which they were as immediately released by a pardon from the 
 Kin<;. 
 
 80 far all was well; l)ut the nobility, in joining the other two 
 orders, had yielded with regret, and only upon a promise that its 
 anion with them should be of short duration. It still continued to 
 assemble every day, and protested against the proceedings of the 
 National Assembly ; its meetings gradually became less numerous : 
 on the 3d of July, 133 members attended ; on the 10th 93, and 011 the 
 11th but 80. The most obstinate, however, had persisted, and on the 
 11th they determined upon a protest, which succeeding events pre- 
 vented them from drawing up. The court, on its part, had not yielded 
 without regret and without plan. On recovering from its alarm, after 
 the sitting of the 23d, it had approved the general union of the three 
 estates, in oi'der to impede the march of the Assembly by means of 
 the nobles, and in the Iio|)e of soon dissolving it by main force 
 Neckor had been retained merely to mask, by his presence, the secret 
 plots that were hatching. Excepting a certain agitation, and a degree 
 of reserve that was employed towards him, he had no reason to sus- 
 pect any grand machination. The King himself was not apprized 
 of all, and there were persons who proposed, no doubt, to go further 
 than he wished. Necker, who conceived that the whole activity of a 
 statesman ought to confine itself to reasoning, and who possessed just 
 so much energy as was necessary to remonstrate, did so without effect. 
 Conjointly with Mounier, Lally-Tollcndal, and Clermont-Tonnerre, 
 he meditated the establishment of the English constitution. The 
 court was meanwhile carrying on its secret preparations. The noble 
 deputies having manifested an intention to withdraw, they Avere de- 
 Liined by hints thrown out to them of an event that would speedily 
 happen. 
 
 Troops were approaching ; old IMarshal de Broglie had been ap- 
 pointed to the chief command of them, and the Baron de Besenval 
 to the particular command of those which were around Paris. Fif- 
 teen regiments, mostly foreign, were in the environs of the co.pital. 
 The exultation of the courtiers revealed the danger; and theso con- 
 spirators, too prompt to threaten, thus compromised their projeccA 
 
02 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 The popular deputies apprized, not of all the particulars of a plan 
 which is not yet entirely known, with which the King himself was 
 but partially acquainted, but which certainly tended to employ vio- 
 lence, were irritated, and turned their attention to the means of 
 resistance. We are ignorant, and shall probably ever remain so, of 
 the share which secret means had in the insurrection of the 14th of 
 July, but this is of no consequence. The aristocracy was conspiring — 
 the popular party could conspire too. The means employed were 
 equal, setting aside the justice of the cause, and justice was not 
 on their side who would fain have broken up the union of the three 
 orders, dissolved the national representation, and wreaked their ven- 
 geance upon its most courageous deputies. 
 
 Mirabeau was of opinion that the surest way of intimidating power 
 was to force it to discuss, publicly, the measures which it was seen to 
 take. To this end it was necessary to denounce it openly. If it hesi- 
 tated to reply, if it had recourse to evasion, it would be condemned; 
 the nation would be warned and roused. 
 
 On the motion of Mirabeau, the discussion of the constitution was 
 suspended, and he proposed to solicit the King to remove the troops. 
 In his language, he combined respect for the monarch with the seve- 
 rest reproaches of the government. He stated that fresh troops were 
 daily advancing; that all the communications were intercepted; that 
 the bridges, the promenades, Avere converted into military posts ; that 
 circumstances, public and secret, hasty orders and counter-orders, 
 met all eyes, and were the heralds of war : to these facts he added 
 bitter reproaches. " More threatening soldiers," said he, " are shown 
 to the nation, than hostile invaders would perhaps find to encounter, 
 and a thousand times more, at least, than could be brouorht together to 
 succour friends, the martyrs of their fidelity, and above all, to preseiTe 
 that alliance of the Dutch, so valuable, so dearly bought, and so dis- 
 gracefully lost.'* 
 
 His speech was received with applause ; and the address which he 
 proposed was adopted, with the exception of one article, in which, 
 while invoking the removal of the troops, he demanded that they 
 should be replaced by the civic guard ; this article was suppressed. 
 The address was voted, with only four dissentient voices. In this 
 celebrated address, which, as it is said, was not written by Mirabeau, 
 but all the ideas of which he had communicated to one of his friends, 
 he foreboded almost every thing that was about to happen: the ex- 
 plosion of the multitude, and the defection of the troops from their 
 intermingling with the citizens. Not less acute than bold, he ventured 
 to assure the King that his promises should not be vain. " You have 
 summoned us," said he, " to regenerate the kingdom ; your wishes 
 shall be accomplished, in spite of snares, difficuhies, dangers," &c. 
 
 Tne address was presented by a deputation of twenty-four mem- 
 bers. The King, having resolved not to enter into explanations, 
 rei)iied that the assemblage of troops was for no other purpose than 
 the maintenance of the public tranquillity, and the protection due to 
 the Assembly ; that, moreover, if the latter still felt any appreh^u- 
 
FRENCH IlEVOLUTIOiN. 63 
 
 pions, he would remove it to Soissons or Noyon, and diat he would 
 himself repair to Compico;ne. 
 
 The Assembly could not be satisfied with such an answer, and 
 especially witli tlie proposal to withdraw from the capital, and to place 
 itself between two camps. The Count de Crillon proposed that ihey 
 should trust to the word of a King, who was an honest man. " The 
 word of a Kin^, who is an iiouest man," replied Mirabcau, " is a 
 bad security for the conduct of his ministers ; our blind confidence in 
 our kings has undone us : we demanded the withdrawal of the troops, 
 and not permission to flee before them. We must insist again and 
 an^ain." 
 
 This opinion was not supported. IMirabeau insisted so strongly 
 upon open means, that he may be forgiven any secret machinations, 
 if it be true tliat lie actually resorted to them. 
 
 Tlie 11th of July had now arrived. Necker had several times told 
 tlie King that, if his services were not acceptable, he would retire 
 with submission. ** I take you at your word," replied the King. On 
 the 11th, in the evening, Necker received a note in whicli Louis XVI. 
 re(|uircd him to keep his word, and urged him to set out, adding that 
 he had sufficient confidence in him to liope that he would keep his de- 
 parture a profound secret. Necker, justifying tlie honourablo^confidence 
 of the monarcli, set out without apprizing his friends or even his 
 daughter, and in a few hours was at a considerable distance from Ver- 
 sailles. The following dAy, July r2th, was Sunday. A report was 
 now circulated at Paris that Necker had been dismissed, as well as 
 Messrs. de Montmorin, de la Luzerne, de Puiscgur, and de St. Priest. 
 As their successors, Messrs, de Brcteuil, de la Vaugnyon, de Broglie, 
 Foulon, and Damecourt, were mentioned, almost all known for their 
 opposition to the popular cause. The alarm spread throughout Paris. 
 Tlie ])eopIe hurried to the Palais Ivoyal. A young man, since cele- 
 brated for his republican enthusiasm, endowed with a tender heart but 
 an impetuous spirit, mounted a table, held up a pair of pistols, and 
 shouting " To arms !" plucked a leaf from a tree, of which he made 
 a cockade, and exhorted the crowds to follov/ his example. The trees 
 were instantly stripped. The people then repaired to a museum con- 
 taining busts in wax. They seized those of Necker and the Duke of 
 Orleans, who was threatened, it was said, with exile, and then spread 
 themselves in the various quarters of Paris. This mob was passmg 
 through the Rue St. Honore, when it was met, near the Place Vendume, 
 by a detachment of the Royal German regiment, which rushed upon 
 it and wounded several persons, among whom was a soldier of the 
 French guards. The latter, predisposed in favour of the people and 
 against the Royal Germans, with whom they had a few days before 
 had a quarrel, were in barracks near the Place Louis XV. They fired 
 upon the Royal Germans. The Prince de Lambesc, who command- 
 ed this regiment, instantly fell back upon the garden of the Tuilleries, 
 charged the people who were quietly walking there, killed an old man 
 amidst the confusion, and cleared the garden. Meanwhile, the troops 
 surrounding Paris formed in the Champ de Mars and the Place Louis 
 XV. Terror, before unbounded, was now changed into fury. People 
 
64 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 ran into tlie city, sliouting " To anns !" The mob Imrried to the 
 H8tel de. Ville to demand weapons. Tlie electors composmg the ge- 
 neral assembly were there met. They delivered out the arms, which 
 they could no longer refuse, and which, at the instant when they de- 
 termined to grant them, the people had already begun to seize. These 
 electors composed at the moment the only established authority. De- 
 prived of all active powers, they assumed such as the occasion requi- 
 red, and ordered the districts to be convoked. All the citizens instantly 
 assembled, to consult upon the means of protecting themselves at one 
 and tlie same time against the rabble and the attack of the royal 
 troops. During the ntght, the populace, always ready for excitement, 
 forced and burned the barriers, dispersed the gate-keepers, and afford- 
 ed free access by all the avenues to the city. The gunsmiths' shops 
 were plundered. Those brigands who had already signalized them- 
 selves at Reveillon's, and who on all occasions are seen springing up, 
 as it were, out of the ground, again appeared, armed with pikes and 
 bhidn-eons, spreading consternation. These events took place on 
 Sunday, the 13i:h of July, and in the night between Sunday and Mon- 
 day, tlie 13th. On IMonday morning, the electors, still assembled at 
 tlie Hotel de Ville, thought it incumbent on them to give a more legal 
 tbnn to tlieir authority : they accordingly summoned the attendance 
 of the provost of the trades [jjrdvot dcs marchands), the ordinary ad- 
 ministrator of the city. The latter refused to comply unless upon a 
 formal requisition. A requisition was in consequence issued ; a cer- 
 tain number of electors Avere appointed as his assistants, and thus was 
 composed a municipality invested with all necessary powers. This 
 municipality sent for the lieutenant of police, and drew up in a few 
 hours a plan for arming the civic militia. 
 
 This militia was to consist of forty-eight thousand men, furnished 
 by the districts. The distinctive sign was to be the Parisian cockade, 
 red and blue, instead of the green cockade. Every man found in 
 arms and wearing this cockade, without having been enrolled by his 
 district in the civic guard, was to be apprehended, disarmed, and pun- 
 ished. Such was the primary origia of the national guards. This 
 plan was adopted by all the districts, which hastened to carry it into 
 execution. In the course of the same morning, the people had plun- 
 dered the house of St. Lazare iu search of grain ; they had forced the 
 armoury to obtain arms, and had rummaged out the ancient armour and 
 put it on. The rabble, wearing helmets and carrying ]3ikes, were seen 
 inundating the city. The populace now showed itself hostile to pil 
 lage; with its usual fickleness, it affected to be disinterested ; it spared 
 money, took notliing but arms, and itself appreliended the brigands. 
 The French guards and the night-watch had offered their services, 
 and they had been enrolled in the civic guard. 
 
 Arms were still demanded with loud shouts. Flesselles, the provost, 
 who had at first resisted his fellow-citizens, now manifested great zeal, 
 and promised twelve thousand muskets on that very day, and more 
 on the following days. He pretended that he had made a contract 
 v/ith an unknown gunsmith. The thing appeared difficulr, consider- 
 tnfr the short time that had elapsed. Meanwhile, evening drew on; 
 
FRENCH PvEVOLUTION. 05 
 
 the clicsts of aims announced by FJcsscllcs were carilcJ to the Hotel 
 dc Villc ; they ^vere opened, and found to be full of old linen At 
 this siglit the niuliltude was fired witli indi;^nation ai^ainst the provost, 
 wlio declared tliat he had been deceived. To appease them, lie di- 
 rected them to go to the Carthusians, with the assurance that arms 
 would there be found. The astonished Carthusians admitted the 
 furious mob, conducted them inio tlicir retreat, and finally convinced 
 them that they possessed nothing of the sort mentioned by the pro- 
 vost. 
 
 The rabble, more exasperatcvl than ever, returned v/ith shouts of 
 " Treiichery !" To satisfy them, orders were issued for the manufac- 
 ture of lifty thousand pikes. Vessels with gunpowder were descend- 
 ing the Seine, on their way to Versailles ; these were stopped, and an 
 elector distributed the powder amidst the most imminent danii,er. 
 
 A tremendous confusion now prevailed at the Ilutel de Ville, the 
 seat of the authorities, the hcad-rpiarters of the milida, and the 
 centre of all operations. It was necessary to provide at once for the 
 safety of the towii. which was threatened by the court, and its internal 
 safety endangered by tiie brigands ; it was requisite cveiy moment to 
 allay the suspicions of the people, avIio believed that they were be- 
 trayed, and to save from their fuiy th^se who excited their distrust. 
 Ah(jut this place were to be seen carriages stopi)ed, wagons inter- 
 cepted, travellei's awaiting permission to proceed on their journey. 
 During the night, the Hotel de Ville was once more menaced by the 
 brigands. An elector, the courageous IMoreau de St. JMery, to whose 
 care it had been committed, caused barrels of powder to be brought, 
 and threatened to blow it up. At this sight the brigands retired. 
 IMeauwhile the citizens, who had gone to their homes, held lliemselves 
 111 readiness for every kind of attack: they liad unpaved the streets, 
 opened the trenches, and taken all possible measures for resisting a 
 siege. 
 
 During these disturbances in the capital, consternation pervnded 
 tlie Assembly. It had met on the moriiing of the HJth, alarmed by 
 tiic events that were in preparation, and still ignorant of what was 
 passing in Paris. Mounier, the deputy, first rose and censured 
 the dismissal of the ministers. Lally-Tollendal, Trho took his place 
 in the tribune, pronounced a splendid panegyric on Necker, and both 
 joined in proposing an address, for the purpose of soliciting the Kiiig 
 to recal his disgraced ministers. INI. de Virieu, a dejjuty of the nobi- 
 lity, even proposed to confirm the resolutions of tlie ITlh of June by 
 n new oath. M. de Clermont-Tonnerre opposed this motion as useless ; 
 and, referring to the engagements by which the Assembly had already 
 bound itself, he exclaimed, " The constitution shall be, or Ave will 
 perish !'* The discussion had lasted some time, when news arrived 
 of the disturbances in Paris durinir the moniinj]: of the 13th, and the 
 calamities with which the capital was threatened between undisci- 
 plined Frenchmen, who, according to the expression of the Duive de 
 La Ilochefoucault, were not in any one's hand, and disciplined 
 foreigners, wlio were in the hand of desi)otism. It was instantly re- 
 •iv«Jved to send a deputation to the King, for the purpose of submitting 
 VOL. I. — 9 
 
QQ HISTORY OF THE 
 
 to Ilim a picture of tlie desolation of the capital, and beseeching him to 
 order the removal of the troops, and the establislinient of the civic 
 guards. The King returned a cold, dry answer, which was far from 
 according with his disposition, and alleged that Paris was not capable 
 of guarding itself. Tlie Assembly then, exalting itself to the noblest 
 courage, passed a memorable resolution, in which it insisted on the 
 removal of the troops and the establishment of the civic guards; de- 
 clared the ministers and all the agents of power responsible ; tin-ew 
 upon the counsellors of the King, of whatever rank they miglit be, the 
 responsibility of the cahimities that were impending, consolidated the 
 public debt, forbade the mention of the infamous term bankruptcy, 
 persisted in its preceding resolutions, and directed the president to ex- 
 press its regret to M. Necker and to the other ministers. After these 
 measures, fraught alike with energy and prudence, the Assembly, in 
 order to preserve its members from all personal violence, declared it- 
 self permanent, and appointed M. de Lafayette vice-president, to 
 relieve the worthy Archbishop of Vienne, whose age did not permit 
 him to sit day and night. 
 
 Thus passed the night between the 13th and 14th in agitation and 
 alarm. Fearful tidings were every moment brought and contradict- 
 ed. All the plans of the court were not known; but it was ascertained 
 that several deputies were threatened, and that violence was to be em- 
 ployed against Paris and the most distinguished members of the 
 Assembly. Having adjourned for a short time, the Assembly again 
 met, at five in the morning of the 14th of July : with imposing calm- 
 ness, it resumed the consideration of the constitution, and discussed 
 with great propriety the means of accelerating its execution, and of 
 conducting it with prudence. A committee was appointed to prepare 
 the questions ; it was composed of the Bishop of Autun, the Arch- 
 bishop of Bordeaux, Messrs. Lally, Clermont-Tonnerre, Mounier, 
 Sieyes, Chapelier, andBergasse. The morning passed away. Intelli- 
 gence more and more alarming continued to arrive. The King, it was 
 said, was to set off in the night, and the Assembly would be left exposed 
 to several foreign regiments. At this moment the princes, the Duchess 
 de Polignac, and the Queen, were seen walking in the orangery, flatter- 
 ing the ofncers and the soldiers, and causing refreshments to be 
 distributed among them. It appears tliat a grand plan had been devis- 
 ed for the niglit between the 14th and 15th; that Paris was to be 
 attacked on seven points, the Palais Royal surrounded, the Assembly 
 dissolved, the declaration of the 23d of June submitted to the parlia- 
 ment, and finally, that the wantsof the exchequer were to be supplied by 
 bankruptcy and paper money. So much is certain, that the comman 
 dants of tiie troops had received orders to advance in the night between 
 the 14th and 15th, that the paper money had been prepared, that the 
 barracks of the Swiss were full of ammunition, and that the governor 
 of the Bastille had disfurnished the fortress, Avith the exception of some 
 indispensable articles. In the afternoon, the terrors of the Assembly 
 redoubled. The Prince de Lambesc was seen passing at full gallop. 
 The report of cannon was heard, and people clapped their ears to the 
 ground to catch the slightest sounds. Mirabeau then proposed to siis- 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 67 
 
 pend the discussions, and to s.?nd another deputation to the King 
 The deputation set out inimcdiatcly, to make fresh remonstrances. 
 At this moment, two members of the Assembly, who had come from 
 Paris in the utmost liaste, dcchired that the people there were 
 slaufrhtcring one another ; one of them affirmed that he had seen the 
 headless body of a man dressed in black. It began to grow dark. 
 The arrival of two electors was announced. The most profound si- 
 lence pervaded the hall ; the sound of their footfalls was heard amid 
 the darkness ; and the Assembly learned from their lips that the Das- 
 tillc was attacked, that cannon had been fired, that blood had been 
 spilt, and that the city was tin-eatened with the direst calamities. A 
 fresli deputation was instantly despatched before the return of the pre- 
 ceding one. Just as it was about to depart, the first arrived, and 
 brought the answer of the King. It reported that the Kinghad ordered 
 the troops encamped in the Champs de IMars to be withdrawn, and, 
 having been apprized of the formation of the civic guard, had appoint- 
 ed officers to command it. 
 
 On the arrival of the second deputation, the King, more agitated 
 than ever, said, " Gentlemen, you rend my heart more and more by 
 the account you give of the calamities of Paris. It is not possible 
 that the orders given to the troops can be the cause of them." Nothinof 
 had yet been obtained but the removal of the army. It was now two 
 in the morning. 'J'he answer returned to the city of Paris was, " that 
 two deputations had been sent, and that the applications should be re- 
 newed that day, until they had obtained the success which might justly 
 be expected from the heart of the King, when extraneous impressions 
 did not counteract its impulses." The sitting was suspended for a 
 short time, and in tlie evening intelligence of the events of the 14th 
 arrived. 
 
 The populace, ever since the night of the 13th, had thronged about 
 the Hastille, Some musket-shots had been fired, and it appears that 
 rinijleaders had repeatedly shouted "To the Bastille!" The wish 
 for its destruction had been expressed in the instructions given to some 
 of the deputies ; thus the ideas of the public had beforehand taken 
 tiiat direction. A cry fi)i' arms was still kept up. A report was spread 
 that tlie Hotel des Invalides contained a considerable quantity. The 
 mob instantly repaired thither. M. de Sombreuil, the governor, or- 
 dered admittance to be denied, saying, that he must send for orders to 
 Versailles. Tlie populace, turning a deaf ear to all expostulation, 
 rushed into the hotel, and carried off the cannon and a great quantity 
 of muskets. A large concourse of people were already besiegincj the 
 Uastille. They declared that the guns of the fortress were pointed 
 at the citv, and that they must take care to prevent their firing upon 
 them. The deputy of a district solicited admission into the place, and 
 obtained it of the commandant. In going over it, he found thirty-two 
 Swiss and eighty-two invalids, and received a promise from the gar- 
 rison not to fire unless it should be attacked. During this parley, the 
 people, not seeing the deputy return, began to be exasperated, and the 
 latter was obliged to show himself in order to appease the multitude. 
 At length li« retired, about eleven o'clock in the forencion Kalf .in 
 
6S HISTORY OF THE 
 
 hour had scarcely elapsed, before a fresh mob arrived with arms, shout- 
 ills', " Let us storm the Bastille !" Tlie ffarrisou summoned the as- 
 sailants to retire, but they persisted. Two men, witli great intrepidity 
 mounted the roof of the guard-house, and broke with axes the chains 
 of the bridge, which fell down. The rabble rushed upon it, and ran 
 to a second bridge, purposing to pass it in like manner. At this mo- 
 ment a discharge of musketry brought it to a stand ; it fell back, but 
 tirino- at the same time. The conflict lasted for a few moments. The 
 electors, assembled at the Hotel de Ville, liearing the report of mus- 
 ketry, became more and more alarmed, and sent two deputations, one 
 on the heels of the other, to require the commandant to admit into the 
 fortress a detachment of the Paris militia, on the ground that all the 
 military force in the capital ought to be at the disposal of the city au- 
 tliorities. These two deputations arrived in succession. Amidst tlTis 
 siege by the populace, it was with great difficulty that they could make 
 themselves heard. The sound of the drum, the sight of a flag, for a 
 time suspended the firing. The deputies advanced ; the garrison 
 awaited them, but it was difficult to understand each other. Musket- 
 shots w^ere fired, from some unknown quarter. The mob, persuaded 
 that it was betrayed, then rushed forward to set fire to the building ; 
 on this the garrison fired with grape. The French guards tliereupon 
 came up with cannon, and commenced an attack in form.* 
 
 *" " All morning, since nine, there has been a cry every where : ' To the Bastille." 
 Repeated ' deputations of citizens' have been here, passionate for arms; whom de 
 Launay has got dismissed by soft speeches through port-holes. Towards noon, 
 Elector Tlun-iot de la Rosiore gains admittance: finds Delaunay indisposed for sur- 
 render; nay, disposed for blowing np the place rather. Thuriot mounts with him to 
 the l^attlements : heaps of paving-stones, old iron, and missiles, lie piled: cannon all 
 duly levelled! in every embrasure a cannon, — only drawn back a little' Cut out- 
 wards, behold, O Thuriot, how the multitude flows on, welling through every street; 
 tocsin fiirionsly pealing, all drums beating the ginLralc : the suburb Sainte-Antoine 
 rolling hitherward wholly, as one man! Such vision (spectral yet real) thou, O 
 Thuriot, as from thy Mount of Vision, beholdestin this moment: prophetic of other 
 nhantasmagories, and loud-gibbering spectral realities which thou yet beholdest not, 
 but shall! " Que voulez-vous 7" said Delaunay turning pale at the sight, with an 
 air of reproach, almost of menace. ' Monsieur,' said Thuriot, rising into the moral 
 sublime, 'what meimym? Consider if I could not precipitate both of us from llii? 
 height,'— say only a hundred feet, exclusive of the walled ditch! Whereupon 
 Delatuiay fell silent. 
 
 "Wo to thee, Delaunay, in such an hour, if thou canst not, taking some one firm 
 decision, nde circumstances ! Soft speeches will not serve ; hard grape-shot is ques- 
 tionable ; but hovering between the two is ?/??-questionabIe. Ever wilder swells the 
 tide of men; their inlinite hum waxing ever louder, into imprecations, perhaps into 
 crackle of stray musketry— which latter, on walls nine feet tiiick, cannot do execu- 
 tion. The outer drawbridge has been lowered for Thuriot; new deputation of citi- 
 zens {\t is the third, and noisiest of all) penetrates that way into the outer court: 
 8oft speeches producing no clearance of these, Delaimay gives fire; pulls up his 
 drawbridge. A slight sputter ;— which has Idndled the loo combustible chaos; n)adc 
 it a roaring fire-chaos! Bursts forth insurrection, at sight of its own blood, (for there 
 were deaths by that sputter of fire,) into endless rolling explosion of musketry, dis- 
 traction, execration; — and over head, from the fortress, let one groat gun, with its 
 grape-shot, go booming, to show what wo could do. The Bastille is besieged • 
 
 " On, then, all Frenchmen that have hearts in their bodies ! Roar with all your 
 throats of cartilage and metal, ye sons of liberty; stir spasmodically whatsoever of 
 utmost faculty is in you, soul, body, or spirit; for it is the hour! Smite, thou Louis 
 Tournay, cartvvright of the Marais, old-soldier of the regiment Daupliiue ; smito ai 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 69 
 
 During tliese proceedings, a note addressed by tne Baionde Bcsen- 
 val to Delaunay, governor of the Bastille, was intercepted and read at 
 the Ilutel de V'lllc. Besenval exhorted Delaunay to resist, assuring 
 him that he should soon receive succour. It was in fact in the even- 
 ing of that day that the plans of the court were to be carried into ex- 
 ecution. IMcanwhile, Delaunay seeiug the desperation of the mob, 
 and no succours havinjx arrived, seized a lighted match with the intcn- 
 tion of blowing up the fortress. The garrison opposed it, and obliged 
 him to surrender: the siirnals were made, and a l3rid":e lowered. The 
 besiegers ajiproached, promising not to do any mischief. The crowd, 
 however, rushed in, and took possession of all the courts. The Swiss 
 found means to escape. The invalids, attacked by the populace, were 
 saved from their fury solely by the zealous interference of the French 
 guards. At this moment, a female, beautiful, young, and trembling, 
 came forward ; she was supposed to be the daughter of Delaunay ; 
 she was seized and about to be burned, when a brave soldier rushed 
 to the spot, wrested her from the hands of the enraged rabble, con- 
 ducted her to a place of safelv, and hurried back to the affray. 
 
 It was now half past five o'clock. The electors were in the most 
 painful anxiety, when they heard a dull and continuous murmur. A 
 crowd approached, shouting " Victory !" They poin-ed into the hall : 
 a French guardsman, covered with wounds and crowned with laurels, 
 was borne in trium[)h by the mob. The regulations and the keys of the 
 Bastille were carried on the point of a bayonet: a bloody hand raised 
 above the mob exhibited a bunch of hair ; it was the queue of Delaunay, 
 the governor, Avhose head had just been stricken off*. Tavo French 
 guards, Elie and Ilullin, had defended him to the last exiremity. 
 Other victims had fallen, though heroicallv defended a2;ainst the fero- 
 city of the mob. A strung animosity began to be expressed against 
 Fiesselles, the provost of the trades; he was accused of treason. It 
 was alleged that he had deceived the people by re]ieatedly promising 
 them arms which he never meant to give them. The hall was soon 
 full of jnen heated with a long condjat, and backed l)y a huiulreil 
 thousand -more outside the hotel, all eager to enter in their turn. The 
 electors strove to justily Fiesselles to the mob. His assurance began 
 to forsake him, and, already (piite pale, he exclaimed, " Since I am 
 suspected, I will retire." — " No," was the reply made ro him, " come 
 to the Palais Royal to be tried." Accordingly, be descended to repair 
 thither. The agitated multitude surrounded and pressed upon him. 
 On reaching the Quai Pelletier, he was struck to the grounu by a 
 
 lint outer dra\vbi-id;2;e cliniii, tliougli the fiery hail whistles round thee I Never, over 
 iKive or felloe, did thy axe strike such a stroke. Down with it, man; down \vith it 
 to Orriis: let the wliole accursed edifice sink thither, and tyranny he swallowed up 
 forever! ]\rnunted some sav on the roof of the guard room, some 'on bayonets 
 etiick into joints of the wall,' Louis Tournay smites, brave Aubin Bonncmere (also 
 an old soldier) secondinii him: the chain yields, breaks; the huge drawbridge slam." 
 down, tluiiidrring f(/(Tr//77r//s. ) Glorious: and, vet, alas, it is still but the outworks 
 The ciirht grim towers with their Invalided' musketry, their paving stonei and can- 
 nou-mniiths still soar aloft intact-, — ditch yawning impassable, stone-faced ; the inner 
 .lrHwiiiMii:e, with its back towards us : the Bastille is still to take " — Carlyk's " Fnnch 
 licci'lution."' L. 
 
70 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 plitol-shot, fired by a person uiikno\vn. It is asserted that a lettei 
 had been found upon Delaunay, in which Flesselles thus wrote to 
 him- " Hold out, while I amuse the Parisians with cockades." 
 
 Such were the disastrous events of that day. A feeling of terrosr 
 speedily followed the intoxication of victory. The conquerors of the 
 Bastille, astonished at their audacity, and expecting to find the hand 
 of autliority formidable on the following day, durst not make them- 
 selves known. Every moment, rumours were spread that the troopg 
 were approaching to storm Paris. IMoreau de St. Mery, the same per- 
 son who on the preceding day had threatened the brigands to blow up 
 the Hotel de Ville, remained unshaken, and issued upwards of three 
 thousand orders in a few hours. As soon as the capture of the Bas- 
 tille Avas known at the H6tel de Ville, the electors had sent the intelli- 
 gence to the Assembly, which received it about midnight. The sitting 
 was suspended, and tlie tidings spread with rapidity, f The court, up 
 to this moment, conceiving no notion of the energy of the people, 
 laufi-hins: at the efforts of a blind rabble to take a fortress which the 
 grcAt Conde liad besieged in vain, was calmly cracking its jokes on 
 the subject. The King, nevertheless, began to be uneasy : his last 
 answers had betrayed his grief. He had retired to bed. The Duke 
 de Liancourt, so well known for his generous sentiments, was the 
 particular friend of Louis XVI., and, by virtue of his office of grand- 
 master of the wardrobe, he always had access to the King. On learn- 
 ing the occurrences in Paris, he repaired in all haste to the apart- 
 ment of the monarch, awoke him in spite of the ministers, and 
 informed him of wliat had happened. " What, rebellion !" exclaimed 
 the prince. " Sire," replied tlie dnke, " rather say revolution." The 
 King, enlightened by his representations, consented to go the next 
 morning to the Assembly. The court yielded also, and this act of 
 confidence was resolved upon. During this interval, the Assembly had 
 resumed its sitting. Unacquainted with the new dispositions imparted 
 to the Kijig, it determined to send a last deputation, to try to move 
 him, and to obtain from him what he had not yet been prevailed upon 
 to grant. This deputation was the fifth since the commencement of 
 those calamitous events. It was composed of twenty-four members, 
 and was just setting out when ftlirabeau, more vehement than ever, 
 stopped it. " Tell the King," cried he, — " be sure to tell him, that 
 the foreign hordes by which we arc invested were yesterday invited 
 by the princes, the princesses, the he-f\ivourites, and the she-favourites, 
 and received their caresses, and their exhortations, and their presents. 
 Tell him that the livelong niolit these foreiirn satclhtes, irorired with 
 money and with wme, have been predicting, in their impious songs, 
 the subjugation of France, and that their brutal wishes invoked the de- 
 struction of the National Assembly. Tell him that, in his very palace, 
 the courtiers mingled with their dances the sound of that barbarous 
 music, and that such was the prelude to the massacre of St. Bartho 
 lomew. Tell him that that Henry, whose memory the whole world 
 blesses, that one of his ancestors whom he meant to take for his pat' 
 tern, allowed provisions lo be conveyed into rebellious Paris, which 
 hfi was besieging in person ; whereas, his ferocious coutjciliors are 
 
FRE.XCII REVOLUTION. 71 
 
 turning back llie flour that commerce is sending to laitliful and 
 famished Paris." 
 
 The deputation was just about to proceed to the King, when news 
 arrived tliat he was coming, of his own accord, without guards and 
 witliout escort. The liall rang with apphiuse. " Wait," cried 3Iira- 
 beau gravely, " till the King has made us acquainted with his good 
 dispositions. Let a sullen respect be the first welcome paid to the 
 monarch in this moment of grief. The silence of nations is a J-sson 
 for kings." 
 
 liouis XVI. then entered, accompanied by his two brothers. IJis 
 biinple and touching address excited the warmest enthusiasm. He 
 spoke cheeringly to the Assembly, whi.h he called for the first time, 
 the National Assembly. lie mildly complained of the suspicions that 
 had been conceived of him. " You have been afraid of me," said 
 he ; " ]iow, for my i>art, I put my trust in you." These worils were 
 Iiailed with api)lause. The dc})uties immeJiately rose, surroinidcd 
 the monarch, and escorted him back on foot to the ]>alace. The 
 throng pressed around him ; tears started from every eye ; and he 
 could scarcely open himself a passage through this numerous retinue. 
 The Queen, stationed at tiiat moment with the court in a balcony, 
 contem[)lated from a distance this afiecting scene. Her son was in 
 licr aims: Jier daughter, standing beside her, was sportively })Iaying 
 with her brother's hair. The princess, deeply moved, appealed to be 
 delighted by this expression of the love of the Freneli. Ah ! ]\o\v 
 often has a reci[)rocal emotion reconciled hearts during these fatal 
 dissensions ! For a moment all seemed to be forgotten ; but, on the 
 morrow, nay, pcrlia|>s the very same day, the court had resumed its 
 pride, the people their distrust, and implacable hatred recommenced 
 its course. 
 ■f Pe'ace was made with the assembly, but it had yet to be made with 
 Paris. The Assembly first sent a de})utation to the Hotel de Ville to 
 convey the tidings of the happy reconciliation brought about Avith the 
 King. IJailly, Lafayette, and Lally-Tollendal, were among its mem- 
 bers. Their presence ditfused the liveliest joy. The speech of Lally 
 excited such transport, that he was carried in triumph to a window of 
 the Hotel de Ville to be shown to the people. A wreath of fiowers 
 was placed on his head, and these honours were paid him facijig the 
 very spot where his father expired with a gag in his mouth. The death 
 of the unfortunate Flesselles, the head of the municipality, and the 
 refusal of the Duke d'Aumont to accept the command of the civic 
 militia, left the appointments of provost and commandant-general to 
 be filled up. Bailly was proposed, and amidst the loudest acclama- 
 tions he was nominated successor to Flesselles, with the title of mayor 
 of Paris. The wreath which had been placed on the head of Lally 
 was transferred to that of the new mayor ; he would have taken it ofi*, 
 but the Archbishop of Paris held it where it was in opposition to his 
 wishes. The virtuous old man could not repress his tears, and he 
 resigned himself to his new functions. A worthy representative of 
 a great assembly, in presence of the majesty of the throne, he wa'^ 
 less capable of withstanding the storms of a commonaUy, where the 
 
72 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 multitude sIruggleJ tumultiiously against its magistrates. With txem 
 plary self-denial, liowever, he ])repared to undertake the difficult task 
 of providing subsistence and feeding a populace who repaid liim in 
 the sequel with such base ingratitude. A commandant of the militia 
 yet remained to be appointed. There was in the liall a bust sent 
 by enfranchised America to the city of Paris : Morcau de St. Mery 
 pointed to it with his finger; all eyes were directed towards it. It 
 was the bust of the IMarquis de Lafayette. A general cry proclaimed 
 iiim commandant. A Te Dcum was instantly voted, and the assem- 
 bly proceeded in a body to Notre-Damc. The new magistrates, the 
 Archbishop of Paris, the electors, mingled with French guards and 
 soldiers of the militia, walking aim in arm, repaired to tlie ancient 
 cathedral; in a species of intoxication. By the w^ay, the Foundlings 
 threw themselves at tlie feet of Bailly, Avho had laboured zealously in 
 behalf of the hospitals, and called him their father. Bailly clasped them 
 in his arms, and called them his children. On reaching tlie church, 
 tlie ceremony was performed, and the congregation then dispersed in 
 the City, wliere a delirious joy had succeeded the terrors of the pre- 
 ceding day. At this moment the people wxre flocking to see the den 
 so long dreaded, to which there was noAV free access. They visited 
 the Bastille with an eager curiosity, and with a sort of terror. They 
 sought for the instruments of torture, for the deep dungeons. They 
 went thither more particularly to see an enormous stone, placed in the 
 middle of a dark and damp prison, to the centre of which was fixed a 
 ponderous chain. 
 
 The court, as blind in its apprehensions as it had been in its con- 
 fidence, felt such a dread of the populace, that it imagined every 
 moment that a Parisian army was marching to Versailles. The Count 
 d'Artois, and the Polignac family, so dear to the QcUeen, quitted 
 France at tliat time, and were the first emigrants. Bailly came to 
 cheer the King, and persuaded him to return to Paris, which he 
 resolved to do, in spite of the resistance of the Queen and the court.* 
 
 The King prepared to set out. Two hundred deputies were direct- 
 ed to accompany him. The Queen took leave of him with profound 
 grief. The body-guard escoited him to Sevres, where they stopped 
 to await his return. Bailly, at the head of the municipality, received 
 him at the gates of Paris, and presented to him tlie keys formerly 
 oifered to Henry IV. *' That good King," said Bailly to him, " had 
 conquered his people ; at present, it is the people who have re-con- 
 quered their King." The nation, legislating at Versailles, was armed 
 
 *• " The day of the Kinj^'g entry into Paris was the first of the emigration of the 
 noblesse. The violent aristocratical party, finding all their coereive measures over- 
 turned, and dreading the effects of populnr resentment, left the kingdom. The 
 Count d'Artois, the Prince of Conde, lhe Prince ofCoiiti, IMarshall Broglio, and tho 
 whole family of the Polignacs, set oil" in haste, and arrived in safety at Brussels — a 
 fatal example of defection, whicli, being speedily followed by the mfei-ior nobility, pro 
 duced the most disastrous consequences. But it was the same in all the subsequent 
 cliangesof the Revolution. The leaders of the royalist party, always tiie first to pro- 
 pose violent measures, were at the same time unable to support them when furiously 
 opposed ; they diminished the sympathy of the world at their fall from so high a rank, 
 hyshowiug that they were unworthy of it." — Alison's French Revolution. °E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 73 
 
 at Paris. Louis XVI., on entering', found himself siiiroiinded by a 
 r^ileiit multitude, arrayed in military order. He arrived at the Hotel 
 de ViHe, jiassing under an arch of swords crossed over his head, a; 
 a mark of honour. His address was simple and touching-. The, 
 people, unahle to contain themselves, at length burst forth, and 
 hivished upon the King their accustomed applause. These acclama- 
 tions somewhat soothed the heart of the prince ; nevertheless, he 
 could not disguise a feeling of joy on perceiving the body-guard 
 stationed on the heights of Sevres; and, at his return, the Queen, 
 dirowing herself into his arms, embraced him as though she had been 
 afraid that she should never see liim again. 
 
 liOuis XVI., in order to satisfy completely the public wish, ordered 
 the dismissal of the new ministers, and the reinstatement of Necker. 
 M. de Liancourt, the friend of the King, and his most useful adviser, 
 was elected president by the Assembly. The noble deputies, avIio, 
 though they attended the deliberations, still refused to take any part 
 in thLin, at length yielded and gave their votes. Thius was consum 
 mated the amalL'^amation of the orders. From that moment the Kevo- 
 iiition might be looked upon as accomplished. The nation, possessed 
 of the Icgislaiive power through the Assembly, and of the ]>ublic 
 force throujxh itself, could henceforward carry into effect whatever 
 was ben.eacial to its interest. It was by refusing the equality of im- 
 posts that tiie government had rendered the States-General necessary ; 
 it was by refusing a just division of authority among those states that 
 it had U)st all inlluence over them ; linally, it was in attempting to 
 recover that inlluence that it had driven Paris to insurrection, and 
 provoked the whole nation to appropriate to itself the public force. 
 
 At this moment all was agitation in that immense capital, where a 
 new authority had just been establislied. The same movement which 
 liad impelled the electors to set themselves in action, urged all classes 
 to do the same. The Assembly had been imitated by the Hotel de V^ille, 
 the Hotel tie Ville by the districts, and the districts by all the corpora- 
 tions. Tailors, shoemakers, bakers, domestic servants, meeting at 
 the TiOuvre, in the Place Louis XV., in the Champs Elysees, dehbe- 
 rated in form, notwithstanding the repeated prohibitions of the muni- 
 cipality. Amidst these contrary movements, the HStel do Ville, 
 oj)posed by the districts, and annoyed by the Palais Royal, was 
 encompassed with obstacles, and was scarcely adequate to the duties 
 of its immense administration. It combmeo in itself alone the civil, 
 judicial, and military authority. The head-quarters of the militia 
 were established there. 1'he judges, at first, uncertain respecting 
 their powers, seiat thither accused persons. It possessed even the 
 legislative power, for it was charged to form a constitution for itself. 
 For this })urpose, Bailly had demanded two commissioners for each 
 district, Avho, by the name of representatives of the commune, were to 
 draw up its constitution. The electors, in order that they might be 
 able to attend to all these duties, had divided themselves into several 
 com.mittees. One, called the conmiittee of research, superintended 
 the pohce ; another, called the committee of subsistence, directed .'ts 
 attention to the supply of provisions — the most difficult and danger- 
 
 VOL. I. 10 
 
74 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 ous task of all. It was in the latter that Lailly was himself obligeo 
 to labour night and clay. It was necessary to make continual pur- 
 chases of corn, then to get it ground, and aflerwards carried to Paris 
 through the famished country. The convoys were frequently stopped, 
 and it required nnmerous detachments to pi-event pillage by the way 
 and in tlie markets. Though tlie state sold corn at a loss, that the 
 bakers might keep down the price of bread, the multitude was not 
 satisfied: ft was found expedient to reduce the price still more, and 
 the dearth of Paris w^as increased by this very diminution, because 
 the country people flocked thither to supply themselves. Fears for 
 the morrow caused all who could to lay in an abundant stock, and 
 thus what was accumulated in some hands left nothing for others. It 
 is contldence that accelerates the operations of commerce, that pro- 
 duces an abundant supply of articles of consumption, and that renders 
 their distribution equal and easy. But when confidence disappears, 
 commercial activity ceases ; articles of consumption no longer arri- 
 ving in sufficient quantity to meet the wants, those wants become 
 importunate, add confusion to dearth, and prevent the proper distri- 
 bution of the little that is left. The supply of subsistence was there- 
 fore the most arduous duty of all. Bailly and the committee were a 
 prey to painful anxieties. The whole labour of the day scarcely suf- 
 ficed for the wants of the day, and they had to begin again on the 
 morrow with the same perplexities. 
 
 Lafayette, commandant of the civic militia, had as many troubles 
 to encounter as Bailly. He had incorporated into this militia the 
 French guards devoted to the cause of the revolution, a certain num- 
 ber of Swiss, and a great quantity of soldiers who had deserted from 
 their regiments in the hope of higher pay. The King had himself 
 authorized this proceeding. These troops, collectively, formed what 
 were called the companies of the centre. The militia assumed the 
 name of the national guard, adopted a uniform, and added to the two 
 colours of the Parisian cockade, red and blue, the white colour, which 
 was that of the King. This was the tricoloured cockade, whose des- 
 tinies Lafayette predicted, when he declared that it would make the 
 tour of the world. 
 
 It was at the head of these troops that Lafayette strove, for two 
 consecutive years, to maintain the public tranquillity, and to enforce the 
 execution of tlie laAvs which the Assembly daily enacted. Lafayette, 
 the offspring of an ancient family which had remained uncontaniinated 
 amidst the corruption of the great, endowed with a firm and upright 
 mind, and fond of true glory, had become weary of the frivolities of 
 tlie court and of the pedantic discipline of our armies. As his own 
 country offered nothing noble to be attempted, he decided in favour 
 of the most generous enterprise of the age, and embarked for Ame- 
 rica, the day after that on which a report reached Europe that it was 
 subdued. He there fought by the side of Washington, and decided 
 the enfranchisement of the New World by the alliance of France. 
 Returning to his own country with a European renown, welcomed at 
 court as a novelty, he showed himself there, simple and free as an Ame- 
 rican, When philosophy, .vhich had been but a pastime for noble idlers, 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 75 
 
 required sacrifices from them, Lafayette persisted almost alone in 
 liis opinions, demanded the States-General, contributed powerfiillj to 
 the junction of the orders, and, byway of recompense, was appointed 
 commandant-g-cneral of the National Guard. Lafayette had not the 
 passions and the genius which frequently lead to the abuse of power: 
 with an equable mind, a sound understanding, and a system of inva- 
 riable disinterestedness, he was peculiarly fitted for the part which cir- 
 cumstances had allotted to him — that of superintending the execution 
 of the laws. Adored by his troops, though he had not captivated 
 tlicm by victory, ever calm and full of resources, amidst the ebulli- 
 tions of the multitude he preserved order with indefatigable vigilance 
 The parties which had found him incorruptible, depreciated his abi- 
 lities, because they coidd not attack his character, lie formed, how 
 ever, no false estimate of men and events, appreciated the court and 
 tlie party leaders at no more than their real value, and protected them 
 at the peril of his life without esteeming them ; struggled, frequently 
 without hojie, against the factions, but with the perseverance of a 
 man wdio is di-termined never to torsahe the public weal, even when 
 he deems it hopeless. 
 
 Lafiyettc, notwithstanding his indefatigable vigilance, was not al- 
 ways successful in his cndeavoiu's to check the popular fury. For, 
 let a force b.j ever so active, it catmot show itself every where against 
 a populace that is every where in agitation, and looks upon every 
 man as an enemy. Every moment, the most absurd reports were cir- 
 culated and credited. Sometimes it was said that the soldiers of the 
 French guanls had been poisoned; at others, that the flour had been 
 wilfully adulterated, or that its arrival had been prevented ; and thoso 
 who took the greatest pains to bring it to the capital, Avere obliged to 
 appear before an ignorant mob, who overwiiehned them with abuse or 
 covered them with applause, according to the humour of the moment. 
 Whether it was, however, tiiat men were paid for aggravating the 
 disturbances by instigating the rabble, or that they had still more de- 
 testable moti\'es, so much is certain, that they directed the fury of the 
 people, who knew not either how to select or to seek long for their vic- 
 tims. Foulou and 13erthier were pursued and apprehended at a chs- 
 tance from Paris. This was done with evident design. There was 
 nothing spontaneous in the proceedings, except the fury of the mob by 
 whom they were murdered. Foulon, formerly an intendant, a harsh 
 and rapacious man, had committed horrible extortions, and had been one 
 of the ministers appointed to succeed Necker and his colleagues. He 
 tvas apprehended at Virey, though he had spread a report of his death. 
 He was conveyed to Paris, and reproached by the way with having 
 said that the people ought to be made to eat hay. A collar of nettles 
 was put round his neck, a bunch of thistles in his hand, and a truss of 
 hay at his back. In this state he was dragged to the Hotel de Ville. 
 At the same instant, his son-in-law, Berthier de Sauvigny, was appre- 
 hemled at Compiegne, by an order, as it was alleged, of the connnune 
 of Paris, which had never issued any such order. The commune 
 instantly wrote, directing that he should be released ; but tins injunc- 
 tion was not executed. He was brought to Paris at the very momen\ 
 
76 Hisi our OF THE 
 
 that Foulon was exposed at the Hfitel cle Villa to the rage of tlie fmious 
 rabble. They were for putting him to death. The rciiioiistrance oi 
 Lafayette had pacified them for a moment, and they consented that 
 Foulon should be tried ; but they insisted that sentence shonid be 
 passed forthwith, that they might be gratified by its immediate execu- 
 tion. Some electors had been chosen to act as judges; but they had 
 on various pretexts refused the terrible office. At length- Bailly and 
 Lafayette v/ere designated for it ; and they were already reduced to 
 the cruel extremity of devoting themselves to the rage of the populace 
 or sacrificing a victim. Lafayette, however, continued to temporize 
 with oi-eat art and firmness : he had several times addressed the crowd 
 with success. The unfortunate Foulon, placed on a seat by his side, 
 had the imprudence to applaud his concluding words. " Look you," 
 said a bystander, " how they play into each other's hands." At this 
 expression the crowd became agitated, and rushed upon Foulon. La- 
 fayette made incredible efforts to save him, from the murderers ; again 
 the unfortunate old man was dragged from him, and hanged to a lamp. 
 His head Avas cut off", stuck on a pike, and paraded through Paris. 
 At this moment Berthier arrived in a cabriolet, escorted the guards, 
 and followed by the multitude. The bleeding head was shown to him, 
 without his suspecting that it was the head of his father-in-law. He 
 Was conducted to the H tel de Ville, where he uttered a few words, 
 full of courage and indignation. Seized anew by the mob, he disen- 
 gaged himself for a moment, snatched a weapon, made a desperate 
 defence, and soon perished like the unhappy Foulon. These mur- 
 ders had been conducted by enemies either to Foulon or to the 
 public welfare ; for the apprehension of the victims was the result of 
 contrivance, though the fury of the rabble at sight of them had been 
 spontaneous, like most of its movements. Lafayette, full of grief and 
 indigiu\tion, resolved to resign. Bailly and the municipahty, alarmed 
 at this intention, were anxious to divert him from it. It was then 
 agreed that he should announce his resignation, to show his dissatis- 
 faction with the people, but that he should suffer himself to be per- 
 suaded to retain his command by the entreaties that would not fail to 
 be addressed to him. The people and the militia did actually throng 
 around him, and promised the utmost obedience in future. On this 
 condition he resumed the command; and, subsequently, he had the 
 satisfaction of preventing many disturbances by his own energy and 
 the zeal of his troops. 
 
 Meanwhile Necker had received at Basle the commands of the 
 King and the solicitations of the Assembly. It was the Polignacs, 
 whom he had left triumphant at Versailles, and whom he encountered 
 as fugitives at Basle, that first apprized him of the misfortunes of the 
 throne, and the sudden return to favour that awaited him. He set 
 out and traversed France, draAvn in triumph by the people, to whom, 
 according to his custom, he recommended peace and good order. 
 Though an enemy of the Baron de Besenval, he went to his suc- 
 cour, and promised to demand his pardon from the Parisians. The 
 King received him with embarrassment, the Assembly Avith enthusi- 
 Bsm ; and he resolved to proceed to Paris, where he too might expect 
 
FREiNCH REVOLUTION. H 
 
 to have his day of triumph. Necker's intention was to suHcit of the 
 electors tlie pardon and liberation of tlie Baron de BesenvaL In vain 
 did Bailly, not less an enemy than himself to rigorous measures, hut 
 a more just appreciator of circumstances, represent to him the danger 
 of such a step, and observe that this favour, obtained in a moment of 
 excitement, would be revoked next day as illegal, because an admi- 
 nistrative body could neither condemn nor pardon ; Necker persisted, 
 and r.iv!: a trial of hisinnuence over the capital. lie repaired tc the 
 Ilote. de Villc on the 29th of July. His liopes were surpassed, and 
 he could not help bclievini;- himself omnipotent on beholding the trans- 
 ports of the multitude. Deeply aftccted, his eyes filled with tears, he 
 demanded a general amnesty, which was instantly granted by accla- 
 mation. The two assemblies c/ the electors and representatives, 
 manifested equal enthusiasm : tlie electors decreed a general amnesty ; 
 the representatives of the commune ordered tlie liberation of Besenval. 
 Necker retired intoxicated, taking to himself the plaudits that were 
 addressed to his dismissal from office. But that very day he was des- 
 tined to be inideceived. IMirabeau ])re])ared for him a cruel reverse. 
 In the Assenibly, in the dii.tricts, a general outcry was raised against 
 the sensibility of tlie minister, very excusable, it was said, but mista- 
 ken. The district O'f the Oratoire, instigated, as we are assured, by 
 JMirabeau, was the first to find fault. It was maintained on all sides 
 that an administrative body could neither condemn nor absolve. The 
 illegal measure of the llutel de Ville was annulled, and the detention 
 of the Baron de Besenval confirmed. So soon was verified the opi- 
 rnon of the sagacious Bailly, which Necker could not be persuaded 
 to fi)Ilow. 
 
 At this moment parties began to speak out more decidedly. The 
 parliaments, tiie nobility, the clergy, the court, all threatened with tlie 
 same ruin, had united their interests, and acted in concert. Neither the 
 Count d'Artois nor the Polignacs were any longer at the court. Con- 
 sternation mingled with despair pervaded the aristocracy. Having 
 been unable to prevent what it termed the evil, it was now desirous that 
 the people should commit as much evil as possible, in order to bring 
 about good by the very excess of that evil. This system, compounded 
 of spite and perfidy, which is called political pessimism, begins 
 among parties as soon as they have sufiered sufficient losses to make 
 them renounce v>hat they have left in the hope of regaining tiie whole. 
 The aristocracy began from this time to adopt this system, and it was 
 frequently ^^^.^w voting with the most violent members of the popular 
 party. 
 
 Circumstances draw forth men. The danjrer which threatened the 
 nobility, produced a champion for it. Young Cazal^s, captain in the 
 Queen's Dragoons, had found in himself an unlooked-for energy of 
 mind and facility of expression. Precise and simple, he said prompt- 
 ly and suitably wXvdi he had to say ; and it is to be regretted that Ins 
 upright mind was devoted to a cause which had no valid reasons to 
 urge till it had been persecuted. The clergy had found its defender 
 in tiie Abbe Maury. That abbe, a practised and inexhaustible sophist, 
 had many happy sallies and great coc.lness : he could courageoiiiiv 
 
78 HISTORl" OF THE 
 
 withstand tumult and audaciously oppose evidence. Such were the 
 means and the dispositions of tlie aristocracy. 
 
 The ministry was without views and without plans. Necker, hatec 
 by the court, which endured liim from compulsion, — Necker alone 
 had, not a plan, but a wish. He had always a longing after the Eng- 
 lish constitution, the best no doubt that can be adopted, as an accom- 
 modation between the throne, the aristocracy, and the people ; but 
 this constitution, proposed by the Bishop of Langres, before the es- 
 tablishment of a single assembly, and refused by the first orders, had 
 become impracticable. The high nobility would not admit of two 
 chambers, because that would be a compromise ; the inferior nobility, 
 because it could not have access to the upper chamber ; the popular 
 party, because, still filled with apprehensions of the aristocracy, it was 
 unwilling to leave any influence to the latter. A few deputies only, 
 some from moderation, others because that idea was their own, wished 
 for English institutions, and formed the whole party of the minister— 
 a weak party, because it held forth only conciliatory views to exas- 
 perated passions, and opposed to its adversaries arguments alone, 
 without any means of action. 
 
 The popular party began to disagree, because it began to conquer. 
 Lally-ToUendal, Mounier, Malouet, and other partisans of Necker, 
 approved of all that had been done thus far, because all that had been 
 done had brought over the government to their ideas, that is to say, to 
 the English constitution. They now judged that this was sufficient; 
 reconciled with power, they wished to stop there. The popular parly, 
 on the contrary, conceived that it was not yet time to stop. It was in 
 the Breton club that the question Avas discussed with the greatest vehe- 
 mence. A sincere conviction was the motive of the majority ; per- 
 sonal pretensions began nevertheless to manifest themselves, and the 
 movements of private interest to succeed the first flights of patriotism. 
 Barnave, a young advocate of Grenoble, endowed with a clear and 
 ready mind, and possessing, in the highest degree, the talents requisite 
 for a good speaker, formed with the two Lameths a triumvirate, which 
 interested by its youth, and soon influenced by its activity and its abi- 
 lities. Duport, the young counsellor to the parliament, whom we have 
 already seen distinguishing himself, belonged to their association. It 
 was said at the time that Duport conceived all that ought to be done, 
 that Barnave expressed it, and that the Lameths execvited it. Hoav- 
 ever, these young deputies were the friends of one another, without 
 being yet declared enemies to any one. 
 
 The most courageous of the popular leaders, he who, ever in the 
 van, opened the boldest discussions, was Mirabeau. The absurd in- 
 stitutions of the old monarchy had shocked just minds, and excited the 
 indignation of upright hearts ; but it was impossible that they should 
 not have galled some ardent spirit, and inflamed strong passions. This 
 .spirit was tha*- of Mirabeau, Avho, encountering from his birth every 
 kind of tyraiiny, that of his father, of the government, and of the tri- 
 bunals, spent his youth iti combating and in hating them. He waa 
 born beneath the sun of Provence, the offspring of a i.oble family. 
 Ue had early made himself notorious by his dissolute manners, liis 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 79 
 
 quarrel."^ and an impetuous eloquence. His travels, obsen^ation, nnd 
 immense readini^, Juid taught liim mucli, and his memory had retained 
 it all. But extravagant, eccentric, nay, even a sophist, without the aid 
 of passion, he became by its aid quite a different man. No sooner 
 was he excited by the tribune and tlie presence of his opponents than 
 his mind took fire : Lis first ideas were confused, his words incoherent, 
 his whole frame agitated, but presently the light burst forth. His 
 mind then performed in a moment the labour of years; and in the 
 very tribune all was to him new discovery, sudden and energetic ex- 
 pression. If again crossed, he returned, stilj more forcible and more 
 clear, and presented the truth in imatxes either strikin<x or terrible. 
 >Vcre the circumstances difficult, were minds fatigued by a long dis- 
 cussion, or intimidated by danger, an ejaculation, a decisive word, 
 dropped from his lips, his countenance looking terrific with ugliness 
 and genius, and the Assembly, enlightened or encouraged, enacted 
 laws or passed magnanimous resolutions. 
 
 Proud of his high qualities, jesting over his vices, by turns haughty 
 or supjde, he Avon some by liis flattery, awed others by his sarcasms, 
 and led all in his train by the extraordinary influence which he pos- 
 sessed. His party was every where, among the people, in the Assem- 
 bly, in tlie very court, with all those, in short, lo whom he was at the 
 moment addressing himself. IMingling familiarly with men, just when 
 it was requisite to do so, he had applauded the rising talent of Bar- 
 nave, though he disliked his young friends ; he appreciated the pro- 
 found understanding of Sicyes, and humoured his wild dis|iosition ; 
 he dreaded too pure a life in Lafayette ; in Necker he detested an ex- 
 treme rigour, the pride of reason, and the pretension of directing a 
 revolution which he knewto be attributable to him. He was not friendlv 
 to the Duke of Orleans and his unsteady ambition, and, as we shall 
 soon see, he never had any interest in common with him. Tims, un 
 aided excejit by his genius, he attacked despotism, whicli he had 
 sworn to destroy. If, however, he was a foe to the vanities of monar 
 chy, he was still more adverse to the ostracism of republics ; but, not 
 being sufficiently revenged on the great and on power, he still conti- 
 nued to destroy. Harassed moreover by straightened circumstances, 
 dissatisfied with the present, he was advancing towards an unknown 
 future ; by his talents, his ambition, his vices, bis pecuniary embar- 
 rassments, he gave rise to all sorts of conjectures, and by his cynical 
 lan":ua"'c he autliorized all suspicions and all calumnies. 
 
 Thus were France and the parties divided. The first differences 
 between tlie popular deputies arose on occasion of the excesses 
 comnntted by the multitude. Mounier and Lally-Tollendal proposed 
 a solemn proclamation to the people, to reprobate their outrages. The 
 Assembly, sensible of the uselessness of this measure, and the neces- 
 sity for preserving the good-will of the populace who had supported 
 it, at first rejected this proposal, but, afterwards, yielding to the solicita- 
 tions of some of its members, it at length issued a proclamation, which 
 proved, as it liad been foreseen, utterly useless, for it is not oy woixb 
 that an excited populace can be pacified. 
 
 The agitation was general. A sudden teJTorhr>d spread itself ever* 
 
80 HISTORY OF rHE 
 
 where. The name of those brigands who had been seen starting up 
 in the diflereut commotions was in all moutiis, and iheir image in all 
 minds. The court threw the blame of their outrages on the popular 
 party, and the popular party on the court. All at once, couriers tra- 
 versing France in all directions, brought tidings that the brigands 
 were coming, and that they were cutting the corn before it was ripe. 
 People assembled from all quarters, and in a few days all France was 
 in arms, awaiting the brigands, who never made their appearance. 
 This stratagem, whicli extended the revolution of the 14th of July to 
 every part of the kingdom, by causing the whole nation to take up 
 arms, was attributed to all the parties, and has since been imputed to 
 the popular party, which benelitted by its results. It is surprising that 
 a stratagem, more ingenious than culpable, should be bandied about 
 from one to the other. It has been ascribed to Mirabeau, who boasted 
 of bcinof its author, and who nevertheless has disavowed it. It was 
 not unlike a contrivance by Sieyes, and some have imagined that it 
 was he who suggested it to the Duke of Orleans. Lastly, it Avas im- 
 puted by others to the court. Such persons argue, that those couriers 
 would have been apprehended at every step had they not been autlio- 
 rized by the government ; that the court, never having supposed the 
 revolution to be general, and looking upon it as a mere riot of the 
 Parisians, wished to arm the provinces for the purpose of opposing 
 them to the capital, lie this as it may, the expedient proved benefi- 
 cial to the nation, by armuig and enabling it to protect itself and its 
 rights. 
 
 The people of tlie towns had shaken off their fetters ; tlie country 
 people also determined to shake ofi' theirs. They refused to pay the 
 feudal dues ; they attacked such of the landholders as had oppressed 
 them ; they set fire to their mansions, burned their title-deeds, and, 
 m some parts of the country, committed atrocious acts of revenge. A 
 deplorable accident had greatly contributed to excite this universal 
 effervescence. A Sieur de Mesmai, scigncu7' of Quincey, gave an en- 
 tertainment in the grounds about his mansion. All the country peo- 
 ple were assembled there, and indulging in various amusements, when 
 a barrel of gunpowder, suddenly taking fire, produced a murdeious 
 explosion. This accident, since ascertained to have been the effect of 
 imprudence and not of design, was imputed as a crime to the Sieur de 
 JMesmai. The report of it soon spread, and every where provoked 
 the barbarity of those peasants, hardened by misery, and rendered 
 cruel by long sufferings. The ministers came in a body to submit to- 
 the Assembly a picture of the deplorable state of France, and to de- 
 mand from it the means of restoring order. These disasters of all 
 kinds had occurred since the I4th of July. The month of August 
 was beginning, and it became indispensable to re-establish theactionof 
 the government and of the laws. But, to attempt this with success, it 
 was necessary to commence the regeneration of the state, with there- 
 form of the institutions whicli were most obnoxious to the people, and 
 had the greatest tendency to excite them to insurrection. One part of 
 the nation, subject to the other, was burdened with a number of what 
 w^ere termed feudal dues. Some, called useful, compelled the peasants 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 81 
 
 to make ruinous advances ; others, named honorary, requh-ed them 
 lo pay Immiliating marks of respect and services to their lords. These 
 were relics of the feudal barbarism, tlie abolition of which was due to 
 humanity. These privileges, considered as property, and even called 
 so by the King in the declaration of the 23d of June, could not be 
 abolished by a discussion. It was requisite, by a sudden movement, 
 to excite the possessors to resign them of their own accord. 
 
 The Assembly was then discussing the famous declaration of the 
 rights of man. It had at first been debated whether there should be 
 such a declaration or not, and it had been decided, on the morning of 
 tiie 4th of August, that it should be made and placed at the head of 
 the cojjstitulion. In the evening of the same day, the committee made 
 its report on the disturbances and the means of putting an end to them. 
 The Viscount de Noailles and the Duke d'Aiguillon, both members ot 
 the nobility, then ascended the tribune, and represented that it would 
 l)e silly to employ force to quiet the people ; that the right way would 
 be to destroy the cause of their sufferings, and then the agitation 
 which was the effect of them would instantly cease. Explaining 
 themselves more fully, they proposed to abolish all the vexatious rightSj 
 wliich, by the name of feudal rights, oppressed the country pcoide, 
 INI. l^eguen de Kerengal, a landholder of Cretagne, appeared in the 
 tribune in the dress of a farmer, and drew a frightful picture of the 
 feudal system. Presently the generosity of some was excited, and 
 the pride of others wrought ui)on to such a degree, as to produce a 
 sudden paroxysm of disinterestedness; every one hurried to tlie tribune 
 to renounce iiis privileges. The nobility set the first example, wliich 
 was as cheerfully followed by the clergy. A sort of intoxication seized 
 the Assembly. Setting aside a superlluous discussion, and which cer- 
 tainly was not required to demonstrate the justice of such sacrifices, 
 all orders, all classes, all the possessors of prerogatives of every kind, 
 hastened to renounce them. After the deputies of the first orders, those 
 of the commons came also to offer their sacrifices. Having no personal 
 privileges to give up, they relinquished those of the provinces and the 
 towns. The equality of rights, established between individual, was thus 
 established also between all the parts of the French territory. Some of- 
 fered pensions, and a member of parliament, having nothing else to give, 
 promised his zeal in behalf of the public welfare. The steps of the 
 office were covered with deputies who came to deliver the acts of their 
 renunciation. They were content for the moment to enumerate the 
 sacrifices, and deferred till the following day the drawing up of the 
 articles. The impulse was general, but amidst this enthusiasm, it was 
 easy to perceive that certain of the privileged persons, so far from 
 being sincere, were desirous only of making matters worse. Every 
 thing was to be feared from the effect of that night and the impulse 
 given, when Lally-Tollendal, perceiving the danger, caused a note to 
 this effect to be handed to the president : " Every thing is to be appre- 
 hended from the enthusiasm of the Assembly ; break up the sitting." 
 At the same instant, a deputy ran up to him, and, grasping his hand 
 with emotion, said to him, " Procure us the royal sanction, and we are 
 3"iends." Lally-ToLIendal, sensible of the necessity of attaching \be 
 
 VOL. I. II 
 
32 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 rcTolution to the King, tlien proposed to proclaim him tie restorer of 
 French hberty. Tlie motion was hailed with enthusiasm ; it was re- 
 Folved that Te Deum should be performed, and the Assembly atleng;tli 
 broke up about midnight. 
 
 During this memorable night the Assembly had decreed : 
 
 The abolition of the quality of serf; 
 
 The right of compounding for the seignorial dues ; 
 
 The abolition of the seignorial jurisdictions ; 
 
 The suppression of the exclusive rights to hunt, to keep dovecotes, 
 warrens, &c. ; 
 
 The redemption of tithes ; 
 
 The equality of taxes ; 
 
 The admission of all the citizens to civil and military employ- 
 ments; 
 
 The abolition of the sale of offices ; 
 
 The suppression of all the privileges of the towns and provinces ; 
 
 The reformation o^ the jurandcs ; 
 
 And the suppression of pensions obtained without claims. 
 
 These resolutions had been passed in a general form, and they still 
 remained to be embodied in decrees ; and then, the first fervour of 
 generosity having subsided, some strove to extend, others to contract, 
 the concessions obtained. The discussion grew warm, and a late and 
 injudicious resistance did away with all claim to gratitude. 
 
 The abolition of feudal rights had been agreed upon ; but it was 
 necessary to make a distinction between such of these rights as were 
 to be abolished, and those that were to be redeemed. The conquerors, 
 the first creators of the nobility, when of old they subdued the coun 
 try, imposed services upon the inhabitants, and a tribute upon the land 
 They liad even seized part of the latter, and had gradually restored it 
 to the cultivators only on the condition of being paid perpetual rents. 
 A long possession, followed by numerous transfers, constituting pro- 
 perty, all the cliarges imposed upon the inhabitants and the lands had 
 acquired the same character. The Constituent Assembly was there- 
 fore compelled to attack property. In this situation, it was not as 
 more or less acquired, but as being more or less burdensome to soci- 
 ety, that the Assembly had to deal with it. It abolished personal ser- 
 vices ; and, several of these services having been changed into quit- 
 rents, it abolished these quit-rents. Among the tributes imposed upon 
 land, it abolished those which were evidently the relics of servitude, 
 as the fines imposed upon transfer ; and it declared redeemable all 
 the perpetual rents, that were the price for which the nobility had for- 
 merly ceded part of the lands to the cultivators. Nothing, tlierefore, 
 is more absurd, tlian to accuse the Constituent Assembly of having 
 violated property, since everything had become such ; and it is strange 
 that the nobility, having so long violated it, either by imposing tributes 
 or by not paying taxes, should become all at once so tenacious of prin- 
 ciples, when its own prerogatives weri at stake. The seignorial courts 
 were also called property, because they had for ages been transmitted 
 from heir to heir : but the Assembly, disregarding this plea, abohslieti 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 83 
 
 them ; directing, however, that they should be kept up till a substitute 
 sliould be provided for them. 
 
 The exclusive right of the chase was also a subject of warm dis 
 cassion. Notwithstanding the vain objection, that tiie whole popula- 
 tion would soon be in arms if the right of sporting were made general, 
 it was conferred on every one within the limits of his own lands. 
 The privileged dovecotes were in like manner defended. The Assem- 
 bly decided that every body might keep them, but that in harvest-time 
 pigeons might be killed like ordinary game, upon the lands which 
 they might be visitmg. All the captainships were abolished, but it was 
 added, that provision should be made for the private pleasures of the 
 King by means compatible Avith liberty and property. 
 
 One article gave rise to discussions of peculiar violence, on accoiuit 
 of tlie more important questions to whicii it was the prelude, aiui the 
 interests which it attacked — tliis was an article relative to tithes. On 
 the night of the 4th of August, the Assembly had declared that titlies 
 miglit be redeemed. At the moment of drawing up the decree, it 
 determined to abolish them without redemption, taking care to add 
 that tiie state shoidd provide for the maintenance of the clergy. Tliere 
 was no doubt an informality in this decision, because it interfered with 
 a resolution already adopted. lUit to this objection, Garat answered 
 that this would be a bond fide redemption, since the state actually re- 
 deemed the tithes to the relief of the contj-ibutor, by undertaking to 
 make a provision for the clergv. The Abbe Sieyes, who was seen 
 with surprise among the defenders of the tithes, and who Avas not 
 supposed to be a disinterested defender of that impost, admitted in 
 fact that the state really redeemed the tithes, but that it comnutted a 
 robbery on tlie mass of the nation, by throwing u[)on its shoulders a 
 debt which ought to be borne by the landed proj)rietors alone. This 
 objection, urged in a striking manner, was accompanied with this 
 keen and since frequently repeated expression : " You want to be free, 
 and you know not how to be just." Though Sieyes thought this ob- 
 jection unanswerable, the answer to it was easy. The debt incurred 
 for the support of religion is the debt of all ; whether it should be paid 
 by the lauded proprietors rather than by the whole of the tenants, is a 
 point for the state to decide. It robs )iobody by dividing tlie burden 
 in such a manner as it deems most proper. Tithes, by oppressing the 
 little proprietors, destroyed agriculture ; the state had therefore a 
 right to provide a substitute for that impost ; and this Mirabeau proved 
 to demonstration. The clergy, which ])referred tithes, because it 
 foresaw tliat the salary adjudged by the state would be measured ac- 
 cording to its real necessities, claimed a property in tithes by imme- 
 morial concessions ; it renewed that oft-repeated argument of long 
 possession, which proves nothing; otlierwise every thing, not except 
 ing tyranny itself, would be rendered legitimate by possession. It was 
 answered, that tithe was only a life-interest, that it was not trans 
 ferable, and had not the principal characters of property; that it was 
 evidently a tax imposed in favour of the clergy ; and that the state 
 undertook to change this tax into another. The pride of the clergy 
 revolted at the idea of its receiving a salary ; on this subject it com- 
 
84 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 bined with vehemence : and Miraheau, who Avas particularly dexterous 
 in launching the shafts of reason and irony, replied to the complain- 
 ants that he knew of but three wajs of existing in society — by robbing, 
 begging, or being paid a salary. The clergy felt that it behooved it to 
 give up what it was no longer able to defend. The cures in particular, 
 knowing that tliey had every thing to gain from the spirit of justice 
 which pervaded the Assembly, and that it was the opulence of the pre- 
 lates which was the especial object of attack, were the first to desist. The 
 entire abolition of tithes was therefore decreed ; it was added that the 
 state would take upon itself the expense of providing for the ministers 
 of religion, and that meanwhile the tithe should continue to be levied. 
 This latter clause, fraught with respect, proved indeed useless. The 
 people would no longer pay, but that they would not do even before 
 the passing of the decree; and, when the Assembly abohshed the 
 feudal system, it was already in fact overthrown. On the 11th, all the 
 articles were presented to the monarch, who accepted the title of the 
 -estorer of French liberty, and was present at the Te Deum^ having 
 the president at his right hand, and all the deputies in his train. 
 
 Thus was consummated the most important reform of the revolu- 
 tion. The Assembly had manifested equal energy and moderation. 
 Unfortunately, a nation never knows how to resume with moderation 
 the exercise of its rights. Atrocious outrages were committed through- 
 out the whole kingdom. The mansions of the gentry continued to 
 be set on fire, and the country was inundated by sportsmen eager to 
 avail themselves of their newly acquired right. They spread over the 
 lands formerly reserved for the exclusive pleasure of their oppressors, 
 and committed frightful devastations. Every usurpation meets with 
 a cruel retribution, and he who usurps ought at least to consider his 
 children, who almost always have to pay the penalty. Numerous ac- 
 cidents occurred. So early as the 7tli of August, the ministers again 
 attended the Assembly for the purpose of laying before it a report on 
 the state of the kingdom. The keeper of the seals announced the 
 alarming disturbances which had taken place ; Necker revealed the 
 depJorable state of the finances. The Assembly received this twofold 
 message with sorrow, but without discouragement. On the 10th, it 
 passed a decree relative to the public tranquillity, by which the muni- 
 cipalities were directed to provide for the preservation of order by 
 dispersing all seditious assemblages. They were to deliver up mere 
 rioters to the tribunals; but those who had excited alarms, circulated 
 false orders, or instigated to outrages, were to be imprisoned, and the 
 proceedings addressed to the National Assembly, that it might be en- 
 abled to ascertain the cause of these disturbances. The national 
 militia and the regular troops were placed at the disposal of the mu- 
 nicipalities, and they were to take an oath to be faithful to the nation, 
 the King, and the law. This oath was afterwards called the civic 
 oath. 
 
 The report of Necker on the finances was extremely alarming. It 
 was the want of subsidies that had caused recourse to be had to a Na- 
 tional Assembly ; no sooner had this Assembly met, than it had corn* 
 menced a struggle with power ; and, directing its whole attention 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 85 
 
 to the urgent necessity of establishing guarantees, it had neglected 
 that of securing the revenues of the state. On Necker alone lested 
 the whole care of the finances. While Bailly, charged with provi- 
 sioning t!ie capital, was in the most painful anxiety, JNecker, harassed 
 by less urgent but far more extensive wants — Necker, absorbed in la- 
 borious calculations, tormented by a thousand troubles, strove to sup- 
 ply the public necessities ; and, while he was thinking only of finan- 
 cial questions, he was not aware that the Asserxibly was thinking ex- 
 clusively of political questions. Necker and the Assembly, each en- 
 grossed by their own object, perceived no other. If, however, the 
 alarm of Necker was justified by the actual distress, so was the confi- 
 dence of the Assembly by the elevation of its views. That Assembly, 
 embracing France and its future fortunes, could not believe that this 
 fine kingdom, though involved for the moment in embarrassments, was 
 for ever plunged into indigence. 
 
 Necker, when he entered upon office in August, 17SS, had found 
 but four hundred thousand francs in the exchequer. He had, by dint 
 of assiduity, provided for tlie most urgent wants; and circumstances 
 had since increased those wants by diminishing the resources. It had 
 been found necessary to purchase corn, and sell it again for \esa than 
 the cost price ; to give away considerable sums in alms ; to under- 
 take public works, in order to furnish employment to the workmen. 
 For this latter purpose, so much as twelve thousand francs per day had 
 been issued by the exchequer. While the expenses had increased, 
 the receipts had diminished. The reduction of the price of salt, the 
 delay of payments, and in many cases the absolute refusal to pay the 
 taxcH, the smugghng carried on by armed force, the destruction of 
 the barriers, nay, the plujider of the registers and the murder of the 
 clerks, had annihilated part of the public revenue. Necker, in con- 
 sequence, demanded a loan of thirty millions. The first impression 
 was so strong, that the Assembly was about to vote the loan by accla 
 mation ; but this first impression soon subsided. A dislike was ex- 
 pressed for new loans ; a kind of contradiction was committed by ap- 
 pealing to the instructions, which had already been renounced, and 
 which forbade the granting of imposts till the constitution had been 
 framed : members even went so far as to enter into a calculation of 
 the sums received since the preceding year, as if they distrusted the 
 minister. However, the absolute necessity of providing for the wants 
 of the state caused the loan to be carried ; but the minister's plan wad 
 changed, and the interest reduced to four and a half per cent., in false 
 reliance upon a patriotism which was in the nation, but which could 
 not exist in money-lenders by profession, the only persons who in 
 general enter into financial speculations of this kind. The first blun- 
 der was one of those which assemblies usually commit, because they 
 supersede the immediate views of the minister, who acts by the general 
 views of twelve hundred minds which speculate. It was easy to per 
 ceive, therefore, that the spirit of the nation began already not to har- 
 monize with the timidity of the minister. 
 
 Having bestowed this indispensable care on the public trannuilhtjF 
 and the finances, the Assembly directed its attention to the declara- 
 
86 HIS I'ORY OF THE 
 
 tiou of rights. The first i-lea of it bad been furnished by Lafayette, 
 who had himself borrowed it froni the Americans. This discussion, 
 interrupted by the revolution of the 14th of July, renewed on the Isi 
 of August, a second time interrupted by the abolition of the feudal 
 system, was anew and definitively resumed on the 12th of August. 
 This idea had something important which struck the Assembly. The 
 enthusiasm pervading the minds of the members disposed them to 
 every thing that was grand ; this enthusiasm produced their sincerity, 
 their coura"-e, their good and their bad resolutions. Accordinirly, 
 they caught at this idea, and resolved to carry it into execution. Had 
 they meant only to proclaim certain principles, particularly obnoxious 
 to the authority whose yoke they had just shaken off, such as the vo- 
 ting of taxes, religious liberty, the liberty of the press, and ministerial 
 responsibility, nothing Avould have been more easy. This Avas what 
 America and England had formerly done. France might have com- 
 pressed into a few pithy and positive maxims, the new principles 
 which she imposed upon her government ; but, desiring to go back to 
 a state of nature, she aspired to give a complete declaration of all the 
 rights of the man and of the citizen. At first the necessity and the 
 danger of such a declaration were discussed. Much was said and to 
 no purpose on this subject, for there was neither utility nor danger in 
 issuing a declaration composed of formulas that were above the com- 
 prehension of the people. It was something only for a certain num- 
 ber of philosophic minds, which never take any great part in popular 
 seditions. It was resolved that it should be made, and placed at the 
 head of the constitutional act. But it was necessary to draw it up, 
 and that was the most difficult point. What is a right? — that whicii 
 is due to men. Now all the good that can be done to them is their 
 due ; every wise measure of government is therefore a right. Thus 
 all the proposed plans contained a definition of the law, the manner 
 in wliich it was to be made, the principle of the sovereignty, &:.c. It 
 was objected, that these were not rights, but general maxims. It was 
 nevertheless of importance to express those maxims. Mirabeau, be- 
 coming impatient, at length exclaimed, " Omit the word rights, and 
 say, ' For the interest of all it has been declared.' " The more impos- 
 ing title of declaration of rights was nevertheless preferred, and under 
 it were blended maxims, principles, and declarations. Out of the 
 whole was composed the celebrated declaration placed at the head of 
 the constitution of 1791. In other respects, there was no great harm 
 done in wasting a few sittings on a philosophic commonplace. But 
 who can censure men for becoming intoxicated with an object by which 
 they were so much engrossed. 
 
 It was at length time to turn to the consideration of the constitu- 
 tion. The fatigue occasioned by the preliminaries was general, and 
 the fundamental questions began already to be discussed out of the 
 Assembly. The English consUtution was the model that naturally 
 presented itself to many minds, since it was the compact made in 
 England in consequence of a similar struggle between the king, tho 
 aristocracy, and the people. This constitution resided essentially in 
 <he establishment of two chambers and in the royal sanction. Mindi 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. S7 
 
 in their first flight go to the simplest ideas : a people declaring its will^ 
 and a king- -who executes it, appeared to tliem the oidy legitimate form 
 of government. To give to the aristocracy a share ecpjal to that of the 
 nation, by means of an upper chamber; to give to the king the right 
 of annulling the national will ; seemed to them an absurdity, llie 
 nation wills, the king executes: they could not get beyond these sim- 
 ple elements, and they imagined tJiat they -wished lor a nionarchy, 
 because they left a king as the executer of the national resolutions. 
 Real monarchy, as it exists even in states reputed free, is the rule o( 
 one, to which limits are set by means of the national concurrence. 
 There the will of the prince in reality does almost every thing, and 
 that of the nation is confined to the prevention of evil, either by dis- 
 puting the taxes, or by concurring in the law. i'ut the moment that 
 the nation can order wliat it i)leases, without the king's having the 
 [)ower to op[)Ose it by a veto, the king is no more than a magistrate. 
 It is then a republic, with one consul instead of sc'veral. The govern- 
 ment of Pohind, though it had a king, was never called a monarchy 
 but a republic ; there was a king also at Lacedcemon. 
 
 ftlonarchy, properly understood, rerpiiies therefjre great conces- 
 sions from ojtinion. Hut it is not after a long nullity, and in theii" first 
 enthusiasm, that they are disposed to make tlicm. Thus the repul)lic 
 existed in men's opinions, Avithout being mentioned, and they were 
 republicans without being aware of it. 
 
 In the discussion, the menibers did not expl.ain themselves with 
 precision : accordingly, notwithstanding the genius and knowledge 
 to be found by the Assembly, the question was superficially tieated 
 and impcrfecllv understood. TUc partisans of the English constitu- 
 tion, rVecker, INIounier, and Lally, could not see in what the monaichy 
 ought to consist; and if they had seen it, they durst not have told 
 the Assembly plainly that the national will ought not to be omnipotent, 
 and that it ought to confine itself to prevention rather than take upon 
 itself the executive. All they had to urge was, that it was necessary 
 that the King should possess the power of checking the encroach- 
 ments of an assembly; that, in order to liis duly executing the law, 
 and executing it cheerfully, it Avas recpiisite that he should have co- 
 operated ill it ; and, finally, that there ought to exist a connexion 
 between the executive and legislative powers. These reasons were 
 bad, or at any rate weak. It w^as ridiculous, in fact, whilst recogni- 
 sing the national sovereignty, to pretend to oppose to it tlie sole will 
 of the King,* 
 
 * Tlie reader will find in the sequel, at tiie commencement of the history of tho 
 Lepisiative Assembly, a judgment tliat iippears to nie lo be just concerning tiie fanha 
 iiii[)tile(l to tlie constitution of 17U1. I have lierebiit one word to say on the plan of 
 osiablishing, at this period, the English form of government in France. Thai form 
 of government is a compromise between the tliree interests which divide modero 
 ttlatt's — royalty, the aristocracy, and the democracy. Now this compromise cannot 
 take place, till after the parties have exhausted their strength, that is to say. after com- 
 bat, or in other words, after a revolution. In England, in fact, it was not brought 
 wbout till after a long struggle, after democracy and usurpation. To pretend to etTect 
 the compromise before the combat, is to attempt to make peace before war. This ij 
 a melancholy', but at U)e same tiaie an incontestable truth : men never treat till thev 
 
88 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Tliey defended the two chambers more successfullj, because there 
 are^ in fact, even in a republic, higher classes which must oppose the 
 too rapid movements of tlie chisscs that are raising tliemscives, by 
 defendinir the ancient institutions airainst the new institutions. Dui 
 that upper chamber, more indispensable than the royal prerogative 
 since there is no instance of a republic without a senate, was moro 
 scouted than the sanction, because people were more exasperated 
 against the aristocracy than against royalty. It was impracticable, 
 then, to form an upper chamber, because nobody wished for it : the 
 inferior nobility opposed it, because they could not obtain admission 
 into it ; the privileged persons themselves, who were desperate, because 
 they desired the worst; the popular parly, because it would not leave 
 the aristocracy a post whence it might command the national will. 
 Mounier, Lally, and Necker, were almost the only members who 
 wislied for this upper chamber. Sieyes, by an absolute error in 
 judgment) would not admit eitljer of the two chambers or of the royal 
 sanction. He conceived society to be completely uniform ; according 
 to him, the mass, without distinction of classes, ought to be charged to 
 will, and the king, as the sole magistrate, to be charged to execute. 
 He was, therefore, quite sincere when he said that, whether monarchy 
 or republic, it was the same thing, since the difference consisted, in his 
 opinion, only in the number of the magistrates charged with the execu- 
 tion. The characteristic of the mind of Sieyes was concatenation ; 
 that is to say, the strict connexion of his own ideas. He was in the 
 best understanding with liimself, but he Iiarmonized neither with the 
 nature of things, nor with minds different from his own. He subdued 
 them by the empire of his absolute maxims, but rarely persuaded 
 them : therefore, as he could neither break his systems into parts, nor 
 cause them to be adopted entire, he naturally began soon to be in an 
 ill humour. ]Mirabeau, a man of straightforward, prompt, supple 
 mind, was not further advanced, in point of political science, than 
 the Assembly itself; he was adverse to the two chambers, not from 
 conviction, but from the knowledge of their then impracticability, and 
 from hatred of the aristocracy. He defended the royal sanction from 
 a monarchical predilection, and he had pledged himself to it at the 
 opening of the states, when he said, that without the sanction he 
 would rather live at Constantinople than in Paris. Barnave, Duport, 
 and Lameth, could not agree in these sentiments of Mirabeau. They 
 were for not admitting either of the upper chamber or of the royal 
 sanction ; but they were not so obstinate as Sieyes, and consented to 
 modify their opinion by allowing the King and the upper chamber 
 a merely suspensive veto, that is to say, the power of temporarily 
 opposing the national will, expressed in the lower chamber. 
 
 have exh;fu^ted tlieir strength. The English constitution, therefore, was not pracli 
 cable in France till after tlie revolution. It was no doubt well to preach it up, but 
 those who did so went injndiciously to work ; and, had they even shown better judg- 
 nient, they might not have been more siiccessrnl. I shall add, in order to diminish 
 regret, that, had even the entire English constitution been inscribed on oiw table ol 
 the law, this treaty would not have appeased men's passions, till the parties had come 
 lo blows, and the battle had been fought in spite of this preliminary treaty. I ropua: 
 It, tten, war, that is, revohuion, wa- indispensable. God has given justice to mer 
 nl; at the price of battles. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 69 
 
 The first discussions took place on tlie 23th and '20th of August. 
 The friends of Barnave were desirous of treating with jMounier, whose 
 obstinacy had made him leader of the party infovour of the Enghsh 
 constitution. It behooved them to oain over the most inflexiblt, and 
 o him therefore they addressed themselves. Conferences were held ; 
 when it was found to be impossible to change an opinion ti)athad been 
 long cherished by him ; they assented to those Englisii forms to which 
 he was so wedded ; but on condition that, in opposing to the popular 
 chamber an upper chamber and the King, only one suspensive veto 
 shouhl be given to the two, and that, moreover, the King should > ot 
 have authority to dissolve the Assembly. Mounier rephed, like a nan 
 whose mind is tlioroughly convinced, that truth was not his property, 
 and that he could not sacrifice one part to save the other. Thus did 
 he wreck both institutions by refusing to modify tl.cm. And if it 
 were true, wliich it was not, as we sh;dl presently see, that tl>e cousti- 
 tutio)! of 1701 overturned the throne by the suppression of the upper 
 chamber, IMouuier would have occasion to reproach himself severelv. 
 IMouuier was not passioiiate but obstinate; he was as absolute in his 
 system as Sieyes was in his, and preferred losing all to giving up any 
 thing. The negotiations were broken off in anger. JMounier had 
 been threatened with the jniblic opinion of Paris, and his adveisaries 
 set out, he said, to exercise that inllucnce with which he had been 
 menaced.* 
 
 * [ ;uii far from ccnsnrnig the oli>tiii;uv of iMoiinior, for iintliin^'is more respecta- 
 ble tliaii cnnviction ; but its a curious i'lct to asrorlaiii. Here (bllows a pa-sap^o 
 oil this subjeft, extracted from lii-i Report to liis Conslitucnts : " Several di'putii's," 
 says he, " resolved to olilaiii from me the sacritice of this principle, (the royal sanc- 
 tion,) or, by sacrilicins; it tliemselves, to induce nie, out of ijratitiide, to grant them 
 some com|)ensation. They tooli me to the liouse of a zealons partisan of liberty, 
 vvbo di.'sin-d a coalition between them and me, in order that liberty might n)eet with 
 fewer obstacles, and who wished merely to be present at our conferences, without 
 taking any part in the decision. With a view to try to convince them or to en- 
 lighten myself, (assented to these conferences. They declaimed strongly against the al- 
 leged inconveniiMices of the nulimiled right which the King would possess to set aside 
 a new law, and I wa3 assnrcd that, if this rigiit were to lie recognised by the Assem- 
 bly, tiierc would bo a civil war. Tliese conli-rences, twice renewed, were niisnccess- 
 ful ; they were reconnnenced at the house of an American, known for his abilities 
 and his virtues, who had both the experience and the theory of the institutions proper 
 for maintaining liberty. He gave an opimon in f ivonr of my principles. When they 
 found that all their elforts to make nie give up my opinion were useless, theyat length 
 declared that they attached but little importance to the question of the royal sanction, 
 tliongh they had represented it, a few days before, as a subject for civil war; they 
 ollered to vote for the unlimited sanction, and to vote also for two cliambers, but 
 upon condition that I would not insist, in behalf of the King, on the right ol" dissolv- 
 ing the chamber of representatives ; that I would claim only a suspensive veto for 
 the iirst chamber, and that I would not oppose a fundamental law for convoking na- 
 tional tonvetitions at tlxed epochs, or on the requisition of the as.sembly of the lepre- 
 Bentatives, or on that of the provinces, for the purpose of revising the constittilion 
 and making such changes in it as should be deemed ncoessary. By national conven- 
 tions they meant assemblies to which should be transferred all the fights of the nation, 
 which should combine all the powers, and would consequently have annihilated by 
 their mere presence the authority of the sovereign and of the ordinary legislutiire,; 
 which should have the power to dispose arbitrarily of all sorts of authorities, to over- 
 llirow the constitution at their pleasure, and to re-establish despotism or anarchy. 
 Lastly, they desired in some measure to leave to a single assembly, which was to be 
 called the national convention, the supreme dictatorship, and to expose the noUou tc 
 a periodical recurrence of factious and tumult. 
 
 VOL. I.— -1'^ 
 
90 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Tliese questions divided the people as well as the representatives, 
 and if tliey did not comprehend them, they attacked or defended 
 them with not the less warmth. They summed them all up in the 
 short and expeditious term veto. They approved or disapproved the 
 veto, and this signified that they wished or did not wish for tvranny. 
 The populace, without even understanding this, took the veto for a tax 
 which ought to he aholished, or an enemy that ought to be huiig, and 
 WGYe eager to consign him to the lami)-post.* 
 
 The Palais Royal, in particular, was in the greatest fermentation. 
 Men of ardent minds assembled there, who, spurning even the forms 
 imposed in the districts, mounted a chair, began their uncalled-for ha- 
 raugnes, and were hissed or borne in triumph by an immense crowd, 
 whicii liastened to execute what they proposed. There, Camille Des- 
 mouiins, already mentioned in this history, distinguished himself by 
 the energy, originality, and cynical turn of his mind ; and, without be- 
 in o- cruel himself, he demanded cruelties. There, too, was seen St. 
 Hurugue, an ancient marquis, long imprisoned in the Bastille on ac« 
 countof family quarrels, and incensed to madness against the supreme 
 authority. Tlicre it was every day repeated, that they ought all to go 
 to Versailles, to call the King and the Assembly to account for their 
 hesitation to secure the welfare of the people. Lafayette had the 
 greatest difliculty to keep them within bounds by continual patroles. 
 The national guard was already accused of aristocracy. " There 
 was no patrol at the Ceramicus," observed Desmoulins. The name 
 of Cromwell liad already been pronounced along Avith that of Lafay- 
 ette. One day, it was Sunday, the 30th of August, a motion was 
 made at the Palais Royal ; Mounier was accused, Mirabeau represent- 
 ed to be in danger, and it was proposed to proceed to Versailles, to 
 ensure the personal safety of the latter. Mirabeau, nevertheless, de- 
 fended the sanction, but without relinquishing his office as a popular 
 tribune, and without appearing less such in the eyes of the multitude. 
 St. Hurugue, followed by a few hot-headed persons, took the road to 
 Versailles. They intended, tliey said, to prevail upon the Assembly 
 to expel its unfaithful representatives, that others might be elected, 
 and to entreat the King and the Dauphin to remove to Paris, and to 
 place themselves in safety amidst the people. Lafayette hastened af- 
 ter them, stopped them, and obliged them to turn back. On the fol- 
 lowing day, Monday, the 31st, they again met. They drew up an tad- 
 dress to the commune, in which thev demanded the convocation of the 
 
 *' I expressed my surprise tliat they should wish to engage me in a negotiation 
 concerning the iiUorests of the kingdom, as if we were its absolute musters. I ob 
 served that, in luaving only the suspensive veto to a lirst chamber, if it were com- 
 posed of eligil)le members, it would bo foiuid dilhcult to form it of persons worthy 
 of the pubhc confidence; in this case all the citizens would prefer being elected re- 
 presentatives; and that the chamber, being tlie judge ofs^tate offences, ouglil to pos- 
 sess a verv great dignity, and consequently that its authority onght not to be less 
 than that of the oilier chamber. Lastly, I added that, wiien I believed a princip'e to 
 be true, I felt bound to defend it, and that I could not barter it away, since truth he- 
 longed to all citizens." 
 
 "Two countrymen were talking of the veto. " Dost thou know," said one of 
 them, " what the veto is?"—" No, not I."—" Well then, thou hast diy basin full of 
 loup : the King says to thee, ' Spill thy soup,' and thou a-*, forced to spill it."' 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 91 
 
 districts, in order to condemn the vcto^ to censure the deputies who 
 supported it, to cusliier thcni, and to nor.iinate others in their stead. 
 The commune repulsed thein twice with the greatest firmness, 
 
 Agitation meanwhile pervaded the Asseinh!}'. Letters lull of tl rcats 
 and invectives had been sent to tiie principal deputies ; one of these 
 was signed with the name of St. Ilurugue. On Monday, the olst, at 
 the opening of the sitting, Lally denounced a deputation which lie 
 had received from the Palais Royal. This deputation had exhorted 
 him to separate himself from tlie bad citizens wlio defendL'd the veto, 
 and added, that an army of twenty thoijsand men v/as ready to niarcli. 
 iMounier also read letters Avhich he had received, proposed tliat suareh 
 should be made for the secret authors of these machinations, and 
 urged the Assembly to offer five hundred thousand francs to anyone 
 who should denounce them. The discussion was tumultuous. Du- 
 {)ort maintained that it was beneath the dignity of the Assembly to di- 
 rect its attention to such matters. I^Iirabeau, too, read lettei'S adilress- 
 ed to him, in which the enemies of the popular cause ti'eated him no 
 b .-tter than they had treated IMounier. The Assembly passed to the 
 order of the day, and St. Ilurugue, having signed one of the denounced 
 l(■tte|■^, was imprisoned by order of the commune. 
 
 The lin-ec questions, concerning the permanence of the assemblies, 
 tile' two chambers, and the veto, were discussed at once. The perma- 
 nence of the Assembly was voted almost unanimously. The people 
 had suffered too much from the long interruption of the national as- 
 semblies, not to render them permanent. The great question of the 
 unity of the legislative body was then taken up. The tribunes were 
 <n-cupied by a numerous and noisy multitude. Many of the deputies 
 willuirew. The president, then the bishop of Langres, strove in vain 
 to stop them ; they went away in great numbers. Loud cries from all 
 quarters required that the question should be put to the vote. Lally 
 claimed permission to speak again ; it was refused, and the president 
 was accused of havins; sent him to the tribune. One member even 
 went so far as to ask the president if he was not tired of annoying tlie 
 Assembly. Offended at this expression, the president left the chair, 
 and the discussion was again adjourned. On the following day, the 
 lOth of September, an address Avas read from the city of Rennes, de- 
 clarinir the veto to be inadmissible, and those who should vote for it 
 traitors to the country. Mounier and his partisans were exasperated, 
 and proposed to reprove the municipality. Mirabeau replied, that it 
 was not the province of the Assembly to lecture municipal otficers, 
 and that it would be right to i>ass to the order of the day. This ques- 
 tion of the two chambers was finally put to the vote, and the unity of 
 the Assembly was decreed amidst tumultuous applause. Four hun- 
 dred and ninety-eight votes were in favour of one chamber, ninety- 
 nine in favour of two, and one hundred and twenty-two votes W(;re 
 lost owing to the apprehensions excited in many of the deputies. 
 
 The question of the veto at length came on, A middle term had 
 been found in the suspensive veto, which should suspend the law, bui 
 only for a time, daring one or more sessions. This was considered a.i 
 an appeal to the people, because the King, recurring to new asseiii 
 
92 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 blies, and yielding to tliem if they persisted, seemed in reality to ap- 
 peal from them to the national authority. Mounier and his party op- 
 posed this : they were right witli reference to the system of the En- 
 glish monarchy, where the king consults the national representation, 
 and never obeys it ; but they were wrong in the situation in which 
 they were placed. Their only object had been, they said, to prevent 
 a too hasty resolution. Now the suspensive veto produced this effect 
 quite as effectually as the absolute vrAo. If the representation should 
 persist, the national will would be made manifest, and whilst admitting 
 its sovereignty, it was ridiculous to resist it indefinitely. 
 
 The ministry actually felt that the suspensive veto produced mate- 
 rially the effect of tlie absolute veto, and Necker advised the King to 
 secure to himself the advantages of a voluntary sacrifice, by address- 
 ing a memorial to the Assembly, desiring the suspensive veto. A ru- 
 mour of this got abroad, and the object and spirit of the memorial 
 were known beforehand. It was presented on the 11th ; everybody 
 was acquainted with its purport. It would appear that JMounier, sup- 
 porting the interests of the throne, ought not to have had any other 
 views than the throne itself: but parties very soon have an interest 
 distinct from those whom they serve. Mounier was for rejecting this 
 communication, alleging that, if the King renounced a prerogative . 
 beneficial to the nation, it ought to be given to him in spite of himself, 
 and for the public interest. The parts were now reversed, and the 
 adversaries of the King maintained on this occasion his right of in- 
 terference. Fresh explanations were entered into respecting the word 
 sanction: the question, whether it should be necessary for the consti- 
 tution, was discussed. After specifying that the constituting power 
 was superior to the constituted powers, it Avas determined that the 
 sanction could be exercised only upon legislative acts, but by no 
 means upon constitutive acts, and that the latter should only be pro- 
 mulgated. Six hundred and seventy-three votes were in favour of the 
 suspensive veto, three hundred and fifty-five for the absolute veto. Thus 
 the fundamental articles of the new constitution were determined 
 upon. Mounier and Lally-Tollendal immediately resigned their pla- 
 ces as members of the committee of constitution. 
 
 Up to this time, a great number of decrees had been passed, with- 
 out being submitted to the royal acceptance. It was resolved to pr©» 
 sent to tlie King the articles of the fourth of August. The question 
 to be decided was, whether they should apply for the sanction or the 
 mere promulgation, considering them as legislative or constitutive 
 acts. Maury and even Lally-Tollendal were indiscreet enough to 
 maintain that they were legislative, and to require the sanction, as if 
 they had expected some obstacle from the royal power. Mirabeau, 
 wilh rare justice, asserted that some abolished the feudal system, and 
 were eminently constitutive ; that others were apure munificence on the 
 part of the nobility and clergy, and that, undoubtedly, the clergy and 
 the nobility did not wish the King to revoke their liberality. Chape- 
 lier added, that there was not even any occasion to suppose the con- 
 sent of the King to be necessary, as he had already approved them by 
 accepting the title of restorer of French liberty, and attending the Tt 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTIOiN. 93 
 
 Dcum, The King was in consequence solicited to make a mere pro 
 mulgation. 
 
 A member all at once proposed tlie licreditary transmission of the 
 crown and the inviolability of the royal person. The Assembly, 
 which sincerely wished for the King as its hereditary first magistrate, 
 voted these two articles by acclamation. The inviolability of the heir 
 presumptive was proposed ; but tiie Duke de Mortemart instantly re- 
 marked that sons had sometimes endeavoured to dethrone their fiitliers, 
 and that they ought to reserve to themselves the means of punishing 
 them. On this ground the proposal was rejected. Witli respect to 
 the article on the hereditary descent from male to male and from branch 
 to branch, Arnoult proposed to confirm the renunciations of the Span- 
 ish branch made in the treaty of Utrecht. It was urged tliat there 
 was no occasion to discuss this point, because they ougiit not to alien- 
 ate a faithful ally. Mirabeau supported this opinion, and tiie Asscm 
 biy passed to the order of the day. All at once Mirabeau, for the par 
 pose of making an experiment that was ill-judged, attempted to bring 
 forward the very question which he had himself contributed to silence. 
 Tiie house of Orleans would become a competitor with the Spanish 
 house, in case of the extinction of the reigning brand). Mirabeau 
 had observed an extraordinary eagerness to pass to the order of the 
 day. A stranger to the Duke of Orlfeans, though fiimiliar with him, 
 as he could be with every body, lie nevertheless wished to ascertain 
 the state of parties, and to discover who were the friends and the cue 
 miesof the duke. The question of a regency came forward. In case 
 of minority, the King's brothers could not be guardians of their nephew, 
 as heirs to the royal ward, and not being interested in his preservation. 
 The regency, therefore, would belong to the nearest relative ; this was 
 either the Queen, or the Duke of Orleans, or the Spanish family, 
 Mirabeau then proposed that the regency should not be given to any 
 but a man born in France. '* My acquaintance," said he, " with ihe 
 geography of the Assembly, the point whence proceeded those cries 
 for the order of the day, prove to me that the question here is nothing 
 less than that of a foreign domination, and that the proposition not to 
 deliberate, apparently Spanish, is perhaps an Austrian proposition." 
 
 Loud cries succeeded these words ; the discussion recommenced 
 with extraordinary violence ; all the opposers again called for the or- 
 der of the day. To no purpose did Mirabeau every moment repeat 
 that they could have but one motive, that of bringing a foreign domi- 
 nation into France ; they made no reply, because, in fact, they would 
 have preferred a foreigner to the Duke of Orleans. At length, after a 
 debate of two days, it was again decided that there was no occasion 
 to deliberate. But Mirabeau had attained his object, in making the 
 parties declare themselves. This experiment could not fail to draw 
 down accusations upon him, and he passed thenceforward for an agent 
 of the Orleans party.* 
 
 * The particular!? of Mirabeau's conduct towards all the parties are not yet tfio- 
 roughly known, biitlliey aro soon likely to be. I liave obtained positive infonriation 
 from the very persons who intend to publish them : 1 have had in my hands several 
 miportaut documents, and especially the paper written in tlie Ibrm of aprolession o' 
 
94 HISToriY OF THE 
 
 While yet strongly ag-itated by this discussion, tlie As^^cmbly recei- 
 ved the Kinjr's answer to the articles of tlie 4th of Aiii>nst. The Kina 
 approved of their spirit, but gave only a conditional adhesion to 
 some of them, in the hope that they would be modified on being 
 carried into execution : he renewed, with regard to most, the objec- 
 tions made in the discussion and set aside by the Assembly. Mira 
 bt^au again appeared at the tribune. " We have not," said he 
 " yet examined the superiority of the constituent power over the ex- 
 ecutive power : we have, in some measure, thrown a veil over these 
 questions [the Assembly had, in fact, explained for itself the manner in 
 which they were to be understood, without passing any resolution on 
 the subject] ; but, if our constituent power were to be contested, we 
 should be obliged to declare it. Let us act in this case frankly and 
 with good faith. We admit that there would be difficulties in the 
 execution, but we do not insist upon it. Thus we demand the abolition 
 of offices, but assign for the future a compensation, and a pledge for 
 
 Hiilh, which constituted his secret treaty with the court. I am not allowed to give to 
 the pul)hc any of these documents, or to mention the nanles of the holders. I can 
 only affirm what the future will sufficiently demonstrate, when all these papers shall 
 have been published. What I am enabled to assert with sincerity is, that Mirabeau 
 never had any hand in the supposed plots of the Duke of Orleans. Mirabeau left 
 Provence with a single object, that of combating arbitrary power, by which he had 
 Fuflered, and which his reason as well as his sentiments taught him to consider as de- 
 testable. On his arrival in Paris, he frequented the house of a banker, at that time 
 well known, and a man of great merit. The company there conversed much on poli- 
 tics, finances, and political economy. There he picked up a good deal of information 
 on those matters, and he connected himself with what was called the exiled Gene- 
 vese colony, of which Clavicres, afterwards minister of the finances, was a member. 
 Mirabeau, hov/ever, formed no intimate connexion. In his manners there was a 
 great familiarity, which orisinated in a feelinsr of his streneth — a feelina: that he fre- 
 quently carried to imprudence. Owing to this familiarity, he accosted every body, 
 and seemed to be on the best terms with all whom he addressed. Hence it was, that 
 he was frequently supposed to be the friend and accomjjlice of many persons with 
 whom he had no common interest. I have said, and I repeat it, he had no party. 
 The aristocracy could not think of Mirabeau; the party of Necker and Mounier 
 could not comprehend him; the Duke of Orleans alone appeared to unite with him. 
 He was believed to do so, because Mirabeau treated the duke in a familiar manner, 
 and, both being supposed to possess great ambition, the one as prince, the other as 
 tribune, it appeared but natural that they should be connected. Mirabeau's dis- 
 tress, and the wealth of the Duke of Orleans, seemed also to be a reciprocal motive of 
 alliance. Nevertheless, Mirabeau remained poor till his connexion with the court. 
 Hrtheu watched all the parties, strove to make them explain themselves, and was 
 loo sensible of his own importance to pledge himself lightly. Once only there was 
 a comujencement of intercourse between him and one of the supposed agents of 
 Jhe Duke of Orleans. By this reputed agent he was invited to dinner, and he, whc 
 was never afraid to venture himself, accepted the invitation, more from curiosity than 
 my other motive. Before he went, he communicated the circumstance to his intimate 
 toiifidaiit, and seemed much pleased at the prospect of this interview, which led him 
 lo fiope for important revelations. The dinner took place, and Mirabeau, on Iw 
 return, related what had passed : there had been only some vague conversation con- 
 cernuig the Duko of Orleans, the esteem in which he held the talents of Mirabeau, and 
 •he filtihjss which iie supposed him to possess for governing a state. This interview, 
 iherefitre, was absolutely insignificant, and it seems to indicate at most a disposition 
 lo miike Mirabeau a minister. Accordingly, lie did not fail to observe to his friend, 
 with his usual gayety, "I am quite sure to he minister, since both the Kinj ani 
 the Duke of Orleans aro eqiuUly desirous to appoint me." This was but a joke: 
 Mirabeau himself never put any faith in the projects of the duke. I shall explaUi 
 •ome other poit'iculars in a succeeding notjf . 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 95 
 
 the compensation; we declare the impost which supplies tlie salaiies 
 of the clergy destructive of ajrriculture, but, till a substitute is provided, 
 we direct the collection of tithes ; we abolish seignorial courts, but 
 allow them to exist till other tribunals are established. The same 
 is the case with other articles : all of them involve only such prin- 
 ciples as it is necessary to render irrevocable by promulgating- them» 
 Let us ingenuously repeat to the King, what the fool of Philip II. said 
 to that most absolute prince : ' What would become of thee, Philip, if 
 all the world were to say yes, when thou sayest no V " 
 
 Tlie Assembly again directed the president to wait upon the King 
 to solicit of him his promuliration. The Kinn- crpanted it. The A«- 
 scmbiy, on its part, deliberating on the duration of the suspensive veto, 
 
 extended it to two sessions. But it was wronnr to let it be seen that 
 I • • • 
 
 this was, m some sort, a recompense given to Louis XVL for the con- 
 cessions that he had just made to the public opinion, 
 
 While the Assembly pursued its course amidst obstacles raised by 
 the ill-will of the privileged orders and by the popular commotions, 
 other embarrassments thronged to meet it, and its enemies exulted 
 over them. They hoped that it would be stopped short by the Avretched 
 state of the finances, as the court itself had been. The first loan of thirty 
 millions had not succeeded ; a second of eighty, ordered agreeably to 
 a new plan of Necker, had not been attended with happier results. 
 *' Go on discussing," said ]\L Degouy d'Arcy one day, " throw in de- 
 lays, and at the expiration of those delays we shall no longer be ... . 
 . . . I have just heard fearful truths." — "Order! order !" exclaimed 
 some. " No, no, speak ;" rejoined others. A deputy rose. " Pro- 
 ceed," said he to M. Dcgouy ; " spread around alarm and terror. 
 AVhat will be the consequence ? We shall give part of our fortune, 
 and all will be over." RL Degouy continued : " The loans which you 
 have voted have produced nothing; there are not ten millions in the ex- 
 chequer." At these words, he was again surrounded, censured, and re- 
 duced to silence. The Duke d'Aiguillon, cresident of the committee 
 of the finances, contradicted him, and proved that there must be twenty- 
 two millions in the coffers of the state. It was, nevertheless, resolved that 
 Fridays and Saturdays should be specially devoted to the finances. 
 
 Necker at length arrived. Ill with his incessant efforts, he renewed 
 his everlasting complaints : he reproached the Assembly with having 
 done nothuig for the finances after a session of five months. The two 
 loans had failed, because disturbances had destroyed public credit. 
 Large sums of money were concealed; the capital of foreigners had 
 been Avithheld from the proposed loans. Emigration and absence of 
 travellers had also seized to decrease the circulating medium, so that 
 there was actually not enough left for the daily wants. The King and 
 the Queen had been obliged to send thier plate to the mint. Neckei, 
 in consequence, demanded an instalment of one fourth of the revenue, 
 declaring that these means appeared to him to be sufficient. A com- 
 mittee took three days to examine this plan and entirely approved of it. 
 Mirabeau, a known enemy to the minister, was the first to speak, for 
 the purpose of exhorting the Assembly to agree to this plan without dis 
 cussion. " Not having time," said he, to investigate it, the Assem- 
 
90 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 bly ought not to take upon itself tlie responsibility of the event, hj 
 approving or disapproving the proposed expedients." On this ground 
 he advised that it should be voted immediately and with confidence. 
 The Assembly, hurried away by his arguments, adopted this proposal, 
 and directed Mirabeau to retire and draw up the decree. Meanwiiile, 
 the enthusiasm began to subside ; the minister's enemies pretended to 
 discover resources where he could find none. His friends, on the con 
 trary, attacked Mirabeau, and complained that he wanted to crush 
 him under the responsibiUty which events might throw upon him. 
 Mirabeau returned and read his decree. *' You murder the minister's 
 plan," exclaimed M. de Virieu. Mirabeau, who was not in the habit 
 of receding without a reply, frankly avowed his motive, and admitted 
 that those had guessed it who alleged, that he wished to throw 
 on M. Necker alone the responsibility ; he said that he liad not the 
 honour to be his friend, but tliat, were he his most affectionate friend, 
 he, a citizen above all things, would not hesitate to compromise Jiim 
 rather than the Assembly ; that he did not believe the kingdom to be 
 in danger, though M. Necker should prove to be mistaken ; and that, 
 on the other hand, the public welfare would be deeply compromised, if 
 the Assembly had lost its credit and failed in a decisive operation. 
 He immediately proposed an address to rouse the national patriotism, 
 and to support the plan of the minister. 
 
 He was appiuuded, but the discussion was continued. A thousand 
 propositions were made, and time was wasted in vain subtleties. 
 Weary of so many contradictions, impressed with the urgency of the 
 public wants, he ascended the tribune for the hist time, took possession 
 of it, again expounded the question with admirable precision, and 
 showed the impossibility of retreating from the necessity of the 
 moment. His imagination warming as he proceeded, he painted the 
 horrors of bankruptcy ; he exhibited it as a ruinous tax, which, instead 
 of pressing lightly upon all, falls only upon some, whom it crushes by 
 its weight ; he then described it as a gulf into which living victims are 
 thrown, and which does not close again even after devouring them ; 
 for we owe none the less even after we have refused to pay. As he 
 concluded, he thrilled the Assembly with terror. " The other day," 
 said he, " when a ridiculous motion was made at the Palais Royal, 
 some one exclaimed ' Catiline is at the gates of Rome, and you de- 
 liberate!' but most assuredly there was neither Catiline, nor danger, 
 nor Rome ; and to-day hideous bankruptcy is here, threatening to 
 consume you, your honour, your fortunes — and you deliberate !" 
 
 At these words, tlie transported Assembly rose with shouts of enthu- 
 siasm. A deputy prepared to reply ; he advanced, but, affrighted at 
 the task, he stood motionless and speechless. The Assembly then de- 
 clared that, having heard the report of the committee, it adopted in 
 confidence the plan of the minister of the finances. This was a happy 
 stroke of eloquence; but he alone would be capable of it, who should 
 possess the reason as well as the passions of Mirabeau. 
 
 While the Assembly thus laid violent hands upon all parts of the 
 edifice, important events were arising. By the union of the orders, the 
 nation had recovered the legislative omnipotence. By the 14lh of 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 97 
 
 July it had taken anus in support of its representatives. Thus the 
 King and the aristocracy remained separated and disarmed, with the 
 , mere opinion of their rights in which no one participated, and in 
 presence of a nation ready to conceive every thing, and to execute 
 every thing. The court, however, secluded in a small town, peopled 
 entirely by its servants was in some respect beyond the popular iuflu- 
 encc, and could even attempt a coup dc viain against the Assembly. 
 It was natural that Paris, but a few leagues distant from Versailles — 
 Paris, the capital of the kingdom — should wish to draw the King back 
 to its bosom, in order to remove him from all aristocratic influence, and 
 to recover the advantages which a city derives from the presence of 
 the court and of the government. After curtailing the authority of 
 tlic King, all that it had left to do was to make sure of his person. 
 The course of events favoured this wish, and from all quarters was 
 lieard the cry of" The King to Paris !" The aristocracy ceased to 
 think of defending itself aijainst fresh losses. It felt too much dis- 
 dain for what was left it, to care aljout preserving that ; it was there- 
 fore desirous of a violent chanije, just like the popular party. A re- 
 volution is infallible, when two parties join in desiring it. Doth con- 
 tribute to the event, and the stronger profits by the rcbult. AVhile the 
 patriots wished to bring the King to Paris, the court had it in con- 
 templation to carry him to JMetz. There, in a fortress, it might order 
 all that it jdeased, or to speak more correctly, all that others should 
 please for it. The courtiers formed plans, circulated projects, strove 
 to enlist partisans ; and, indulging vain hopes, betrayed themselves 
 by im[)rudent threats. D'Estaing, formerly so renowned at the head 
 of our fleets, connnanded the national guard of Versailles. He de- 
 sired to be faithful both to the nation and to the court ; a diflicult 
 part, which is always exposed to calumny, and which great firmness 
 alone can render honourable. lie learned the machiimtions of the 
 courtiers. The highest personages were involved in them ; witnesses 
 most worthy of belief had been mentioned to him, and h.e addressed 
 to the Queen his celebrated letter, in which he expatiated with re- 
 spectfal firmness on the impropriety and danger of such intrigues, 
 lie disguised nothing, and mentioned every person by name.* The 
 
 * Tlie letter of Count d'Estaiiig to the Qiioen is a curious document, which must 
 ever continue to be consulted relative to the events of the 5th and Gth of Octohor 
 This brave otlicer, full of loyalty and independence, (two qualities whicli app(?ar con- 
 tradictory, hut which are frequently found condjiued in seamen,) had retainr'd the 
 habit of saying all he thought to the princes to whom he was attached. His testi- 
 mony cainiot be called in question, when in a confidential letter to the Queen he 
 lays open the intrigues which he has discovered, and which iiave alarmed liiin. \l 
 will be seen whether the court was actually without plan at that period : 
 
 " It is necessary — my duty and my loyalty require it — that I should lay at the H^et 
 of the Queen the account of the visit wliich I have paid to Paris. I am praised for 
 sleeping soundly the night before an assault or a naval engagement. I ventme t(> 
 assert that I am not timorous in civil matters. Brought up about the person of the 
 dauphiij who distinguished me, accustomed from my childhood to speak the truth at 
 Versailles, a soldier and u seaman, acquainted with forms, I respect without permit 
 ting them to alTect either my frankness or my fuiuness. 
 
 " Well then, I must confess to your majesty that I did not close my eyes all iiighi 
 i v/as told, in good society, in good comuanv — and, gracious Heaven.' what wouiO 
 VOL. I 13 
 
:>)8 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 let:er had no effect. In venturing upon such enterprises,the Queen must 
 have expected remonstrances, and could not have been surprised atthem. 
 About the same period, a great number of new foces appeared ai 
 Versailles ; nay, even strange uniforms Avere seen there. The com- 
 pany of the life-guard, whose term of duty had just expired, was 
 retained; some dragoons and chasseurs of the Trois-EvSches were 
 sent for. The French guards, who had quitted the King's duty, irrita- 
 ted at its being assigned to others, talked of going to Versailles to re- 
 sume it. Assuredly they had no reason whatever to complain, since 
 they had of themselves relinquished that duty. But they were insti- 
 gated, it is said, to this purpose. It was asserted at the time that the 
 court wished by this contrivance to alarm the Ring, and to prevail on 
 him to remove to Metz. One fact affords sufficient proof of this in- 
 tention : ever since the commotions at the Palais Royal, Lafayette had 
 placed a post at Sevres, to defend the passage between Paris and Ver- 
 
 be tl.i5 consequence if this were to be circulated among the people ? — I was repeat- 
 edly told that signatures were being collected among the clergy and the nobility. 
 Some assert that this isdone with the approbation of the King, others believe that it 
 is without his knowledge. It is affirmed that a plan is formed, that it is by Cham- 
 pagne or Verdun that the King is to retire or to be carried off; that he is going to 
 Metz. M. de Bouille is named, and by whom ? — By M. de Lafayette, who told me 
 so in a whisper at dinner, at M. Jauge's. I trembled lest a single domestic should 
 overhear hiin : I observed to hiin, that a word from his lips might become the signal 
 of death. He replied that at Metz, as every where else, the patriots were the 
 stronger party, and that it was better that one should die for the welfare of all. 
 
 "The Baron de Breteuil, who delays his departure, conducts the plan. Money is 
 taken up atusi.rions interest, a-nd promises are made to furnish a million and a half 
 per month The Count de Mercy is unfortiuiately mentioned as acting in concert. 
 Such are the rinuours; if they spread to tlie people, their efiects are incalciiUible: 
 they are still but whispered about. Upright minds have appeared to me to be alarmed 
 for the coii^eqitcnces : the mere doubt of the reality is liable to produce terrible 
 results. I have been to the Spanish ambassador's — and most certainly I shall not 
 conceal it from the Queen — there my apprehensions were aggravated. M. Fernind 
 Nunez Oduversed with me on the sid)iect of these false reports, and how horrible it 
 was to suppose an impossible plan, wliich would produce the most di-^astrous and the 
 most huuiihating of civil wars ; which would cause the partition or the total rain of 
 the monarchy, that must fall a prey to domestic rage and foreign ambition; and which 
 would bring irreparable calamities on the persons most dear to^France. After speak- 
 ing of the court wandering, pursued, and deceived by those who have not supported 
 it when they could, who now wish to involve it in their fall . . aftlicted by a 
 
 general bankruptcy, then become indispensal>le, and most frightful . . lob- 
 
 served that at least there would be no ^ther mischief than what this fldse report would 
 produce, if it were to spread, because it was an idea without any foundation. The 
 Spanish ambassador cast down his eyes at this last expression. I became urgent: 
 he then admitted that a person of distinction and veracity had told him that he had 
 been solicited to sign an association. He refused to name him ; but, either from iiiat- 
 teufiou, or for the good of the cause, he luckily did not require my word of honour, 
 which I must have kept. I have not promised not to divulge this circumstance to 
 dny one. It fills me with such terror as I have never yet known. It is not for my- 
 self that I feel it. I implore the Queen to calculate, in her wisdom, all that might 
 result from one false step: the first costs dearenough. I have seen the kind heart o( 
 the Queen bestow tears on the fate of innnolated victims: now it would be streams 
 of blood spilt to no purpose, that she would have to regret. A mere indecision may 
 be without remedy. It is only b^ breasting the torrent, not by humouring it, that one 
 can succeed in partly directing it. Nothing is lost. The Queen can conquer this 
 Uinirdom for the King. Nature has lavished upon her the means of doing it; they 
 ntoiici are practicable. She may imitate her august mother: if not, I am silent. . . 
 I implore your majesty to grant me an audience some day this week." 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 99 
 
 8ai!ies. Lafayette found means to stop the French guards, and to di- 
 v^ert them from tlicir purpose. He wrote confidentially to St. Priest, 
 the minister, to inform him of what had passed, and to allay all appre- 
 hensions. St. Priest, abusing the confidence of Laftiyette, showed the 
 letter to D'Estainir, wiio communicated it to the officers of the national 
 i;;uard of Versailles and the municipality, in order to apprize them of 
 the dangers which threatened and might still threaten tliat town. It 
 was proposed to send for the Flanders regiment ; a great number of 
 battalions of the Versailles guard were adverse to this measure ; the 
 municipality nevertheless presented its requisition, and the regiment 
 was sent for. One regiment against the Assembly was no great matter, 
 but it would be enough to carry ofl'thc Kiug, and to protect his flight. 
 D'Estaing informed the National Assembly of the measures that had 
 been adopted, and obtained its approbation. The regiment arrived : 
 the military train that followed it, though inconsiderable, did not fail to 
 excite murmurs. The life-guards and the courtiers sought the society 
 of the officers, loaded them with attentions, and they appeared, as pre- 
 viously to the 14th of July, to coalesce, to harmonize, and to conceive 
 great hopes. 
 
 The confidence of the court increased the distrust of Paris ; and 
 entertainments soon exasperated the sulTerings of the populace. On 
 the 2d of October, the life-guards gave a dinner to the officers of the 
 garrison. It was held in the theatre. The boxes Avere filled with 
 spectators belonging to the court. The officers of the national guard 
 were among the guests. Much gaiety prevailed during the repast, and 
 the wine soon raised it to exaltation. The soldiers of the regiments 
 were then introduced. The company, with drawn swords, drank the 
 health of the royal family ; the toast of the nation was refused — or, 
 at least, omitted ; the trumpets sounded a charge ; the boxes were 
 scaled with loud shouts : the expressive and celebrated song, " O 
 Richard ! u mon rdi ! I'univers t'abandonne," Avas sung ; they vowed 
 to die for the Kin":, as if he had been in the most imminent dan2:er : 
 ill shfu't, the delirium had no bounds. Cockades, white or black, but 
 all of a single colour, Avere distributed. The young women, as well as 
 the young men, were animated with chivalrous recollections. At this 
 moment, it is said, the national cockade was trodden under foot. This 
 tact ims since been denied ; but does not wine render every thing cre- 
 dible — every thing excusable? Besides, of what use were tliese meet- 
 ings, which produce on the one side but an illusory zeal, and excite 
 on tlie other a real and terrible irritation ? At this juncture some 
 one ran to the Queen ; she consented to come to the entertainment. 
 A number of persons surrounded the King, who was just returning 
 from hunting, and he too Avas draAvn thither: the company threw 
 themselves at the feet of both, and escorted them, as in trium])h, to 
 their apartments. It is soothing, no doubt, to those Avho regard them- 
 selves as stripped of their authority and threatened, to meet Avith 
 friends ; bui Avhy should they thus deceive themselves in regard to 
 iheir riiihts, their strength, or their means 1* 
 
 *■ " Such was this famous banquet which the court had the imprudence to renew on 
 tlie 3d of October. We cannot but deplore ita fatal want of foresight; itkmw neither 
 
1 00 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 The report of tliis entertainment soon spread, and no doubt the 
 popular imagination, in relating the circumstances, added its own ex- 
 aggerations to those which the event itself had produced. Tlie pro* 
 miscs made to the King were construed as threats held out to the na- 
 tion ; this prodigality was considered as an insult to tl)e public dis- 
 tress, and the shouts of " To Versailles!" were renewed with more 
 vehemence than ever. Thus petty causes concurred to strengthen the 
 effect of general causes. Young men appeared in Paris with black 
 cockades ; they Avere pursued : one of them was dragged away by the 
 people, and the conniiune was obhged to prohibit cockades of a single 
 colour. 
 
 The day after this unfortunate dinner, a nearly similar scene took 
 place at a breakfast given by the life-guards. The company presented 
 themselves, as on the former occasion, before the Queen, who said 
 that she had been quite delighted with the dinner of Thursday. She 
 was eagerly listened to ; because, less reserved than the King, the 
 avowal of the sentiments of the court was expected from her lips, 
 Every word she uttered was repeated. Irritation was at its height, 
 and the most calamitous events might be anticipated. A commotion 
 was convenient to the people and to the court: to the people, in order 
 that they might seize the persoji of the King ; to the court, that terror 
 mio^ht drive him to Metz. It was also convenient to the Duke of Or- 
 leans, who hoped to obtain the lieutenancy of the kingdom, if the 
 King should withdraw ; nay, it has been said that this prince went so 
 fVir as to hope for the crown, which is scarcely credible, for he had 
 not a spirit bold enough for so high an ambition. The advantages 
 which he had reason to expect fromtliis new insurrection, have brought 
 upon him the charge of having had a hand in it ; but this is unfound- 
 ed. He cannot have commuuicated the impulse, for it resulted from 
 the force of circumstances : he appeared at most to have seconded it ; 
 and even on this point, an immense body of evidence, and time, which 
 explains every thing, have brought to light no trace of a concerted 
 plan. No doubt, on this occasion, as during the whole revolution, the 
 Duke of Orleans was merely following in the train of the popular 
 movement, scattering, perhaps, a little money, giving rise to rumours, 
 and having himself but vague hopes. 
 
 The populace, agitated by the discussions on the veto, irritated by 
 the black cockades, annoyed by the continual patroles, and suffering 
 from hunger, was in commotion. Bailly and Necker had neglected 
 no means of procuring an abundant supply of provisions ; but, either 
 from the difficulty of conveyance, or the pillage which took place by 
 the way, and, alDove all, by the impossibility of making amends for 
 the spontaneous movement of commerce, there was still a scarcity of 
 
 how to submit to its desthiy, nor how to change it. The assembling of a, military 
 force, far from preventing the nggressiou of Paris, provoked it. The banquet did 
 not render the devotedness of the soldiers more certain, while it increased the disif 
 feciiou of the multitude. To guard itself, there was no necessity for so much ardour , 
 nor for flight, so much preparation; but tlio court never took the proper measure for 
 #ie success of its designs, or it took only half measures, aud delayed its final decision 
 tiU It wag too lata. •^Mlgmt. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 101 
 
 flour. On the 4th of October, the aghation was greater than ever. 
 People talked of the departure of the King for Metz, and tlie necessi- 
 ty of going to fetcli hhn from Versailles ; they kept an eager Jook-out 
 for black cockades, and vociferously demanded bread! Numerous 
 patroles succeeded in preventing tumult. The night passed oft' quietly. 
 In the morning of the followinir dav crowds bcnan airain to assemble, 
 riic women went to the baker's shops ; there was a want of bread, 
 and they ran to the square in which the Hotel de V'ille is situated, to 
 complain of it to the representatives of the conununc. The latter Iiad 
 not yet met, and a battalion of the national guard was drawn up in 
 the place of the Hotel de A^ille. A number of men joined these wo- 
 men, but they refused their assistance, saying that men were unfit to 
 act. They then rushed upon the battalion, and drove it back by a 
 volley of stones. At this moment a door was forced open ; the wo- 
 men poured into the Hotel de Ville ; brigands, with pikes, hurried iji 
 along with them, and would have set fire to the building. They were 
 kept back, but they succeeded in taking possession of the door leading 
 to the great bell, and sounded the tocsin. The fauxbourgs were in- 
 Btantly in motion. A citizen named Maillard, one of those who had 
 signalized themselves at the capture of the Bastille, consulted the of- 
 ficer commanding the battalion of the national guard upon the means 
 of clearing the Hotel de Ville of these furious women. The ofticet 
 durst not approve the expedient which he proposed ; it was to collect 
 them together, under the pretext of going to Versailles, but without 
 le.iding them thither. Maillard, nevertheless, determined to ado|)t it, 
 took a drum, and soon drew tliem olf after him. They were armed 
 with bludgeons, broomsticks, muskets, and cutlasses. AVith this siji- 
 gular army he proceeded along the quay, crossed the Louvre, was 
 forced, in spite of his teeth, to lead them along the Tuilleries, and ar- 
 rived at the Champs Eljsees. Here he succeeded in disarming them, 
 by representing to them that it \\'ould be better to appear before the 
 Assembly as petitioners than as furies with weapons. They assented, 
 ami IMaillard was obliged to conduct them to Versailles, for it was now 
 imposssihle to dissuade them from proceeding thither. To that point 
 all were at this moment directing their course. Some hordes set out, 
 dra<;(jini2; with them pieces of cannon: others surrounded the national 
 guard, which itself surrounded its commander, to prevail on him to go 
 to Versailles, the goal of all wishes. 
 
 jMeanwhile the court remained tranquil, but the Assembly had re- 
 ceived a messa<re from the Kiufi: which occasioned much tumult. It 
 had presented for his acceptance the constitutional articles and the 
 declaration of rights. The answer was to be a mere simple accep 
 tance, with a promise to promulgate. For the second time, the King, 
 without clearly explaining himself, addressed observations to the As 
 bcmbly ; he signified his accession to the constitutional articles, with 
 out however approving of them ; he found excellent maxims in the 
 declaration of rights, but they needed explanation; in short, he said a 
 proper judgment could not be formed of the whole till the constitution 
 should be entirely completed. This was certainly a tenable opinion ; 
 it was held by many political writers, as well as the King, but was it 
 
102 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 prudent to express it at this particular moment 1 No sooner was tliis 
 declaration read, tlian complaints arose. Robespierre* said that it Avag 
 
 * The followinij sketch of Robespierre, who, from the period of the banquet of the 
 2d of October, be<ri\n to make his influence felt in the revolutionary clubs, is derived 
 from the Bio-jrapltic Modcrnc : " I\ki\imilicn Isidore Robespierre was born m Arras 
 in 1750. His lather, a barrister in the superior council of Artois, having ruined 
 himself by his prodigalitv. left France long before the Revolution, established a 
 scliool for tlie French at Cologne, and went to England, and thence to Ameiica, 
 wiicre he snlferod his friends" to remain ignorant of liis existence. His mother, 
 whose name was Josepha Carrean, was the daughter of a brewer; she soon died, 
 Iea\ing her son, then nine years of age, and a brother, who shared his fate. Tlie 
 Bishop of Arras contributed to send Robespierre to the college of Louis le Grand, 
 where he got him admitted on the foundation. One ol the professors there, an ad- 
 nm-erof the iieroes of Rome, contributed greatly to develop the Jove of republican- 
 ism in him; he surnamed liini the Roman, and continually praised his vaunted love 
 of independence and equality. Assiduous and diligent, he went through his studies 
 with considerable credit, and'gave promise of talent that he never realized. In 1775, 
 when Louis XVI. made his entry into Paris, he was chosen by his iellovv studonls to 
 present to that prince the homage of their gratitude. The political troubles of V-'S 
 heated his brain; he was soon remarked in the revolutionary meetings in]789; and 
 tlae ticrs-ttat of the province of Artois appointed him one of their deputies to the 
 States-General. On his arrival at the Assembly he obtained very little influence there; 
 however, though the want of eloquence did not permit him to vie with the orators 
 who then shone in the tribune, he began to acquire great power over the populace. 
 For some time he paid court to IMirabean, who despised him, yet he accompanied 
 him so assiduously in the streets and public squares, that he was at last surnamed 
 Mirabeau's ape. In 17U0 he continued to gain power over the rabble, and frequently 
 spoke in the Assembly. On the King's departure for Varennes he was disconcerted : 
 but as soon as that prince had been arrested, his hopes of overturning the monarchy 
 increased, and he laboured hard to bring on the insurrections which took place in the 
 Champ de Mars. He had been for some tinie connected with Jliirat and Danton, 
 and by their help he exercised great authority over the Jacobins, and through them, 
 over the capital. He was inconsequence denoiniced by the Girondists, who accused 
 him of aspiring to the dictatorship. He was one of tlie most strenuous advocates foi 
 the King's trial, and voted for his execution. After overthrowing the party of the 
 Gironde, he turned against his old allies, the Dantonists, whom he brought, togethei 
 with their chief leader, to the scallbld, from which time^ till his fall, he reigned without 
 rivals. He restored the worship of the Supreme Being, which the atheist faction o; 
 the Mebertists had succeeded in abolishing. After ruling France for some months with 
 a rod of iron, he was arrested, together with his partisans, by the Convention, in con- 
 >'^>queJlce of iiavnig excited the fear and distrust of some of his colleagues ('Bdlaud 
 \'aronnes among tiie number;. At the moment when lie saw that he was gomg to 
 be -eizcd. he tried to destroy himself with a pistol shot, but he only shattered his 
 uivli-r-jaw. He was innnediately led into the lobby of tlie meeting-hall, then shut 
 up m the Conciergerie. and executed on the 28th of July, 1794. Ashe was pro- 
 (■eeding to execution, the prisoners obstructing the passage, the gaoler cried out, 
 'Make way! make way! 1 say, for the incorruptible man!' — for Robespierre was 
 always vaunting his disinterestedness. He was carried in a cart placed between 
 Heiniotand Couthon; the shops, the windows, the roofs, wore filled with spectators 
 as he passed along, and cries ol' joy accompanied him all the way. His head wa.<! 
 wrapped up iu a bloody cloth, which supportf d his nnder-javv, so that his pale and 
 livid countenance was but half seen, ^phe horsemen who escorted him showed hiuj 
 to tlie spectitors with the point of tliJ^ir sabres. The mob stopped him before the 
 house where he had lived ; some women danced before the court; and one of thetu 
 cried out, ' Descend to hell, with the curses of all wives and of all mothers!' The 
 oxeculioner, wlien about to put him to death, roughly tore the dressing oti" his wound ; 
 upon which he uttered a horrible cry; his under-jaw separated from the other; the 
 olood spouted out ; and liis head presented a most hideous spectacle. He died at the 
 uge ol' thirty-live. Tlie following epitaj)h was written for him : ' Passenger, lament 
 not hiffate, for were he living, thou wouldst be dead.' Robespierre had not any of 
 tliose accomplishments or brilliant advantages which seems to connnand success 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 103 
 
 not for the King to criticise tlic Assembly, and Duport that this answc: 
 iiught to be countersigned by a responsible minister. Pctioji* toolj 
 
 lie was hare' and dry, without imagination and without courage; neither could hii 
 C.;e\Ae constitution, liis gloomy couutenuncc, his weak sight, and almost iuamlildi! 
 voice, prepossess or seduce tlie multitude ; and allhouirh, in public spcalciuir. he h.ul 
 oy long lialjit attained some degree of facility, he could never contend with llie pnn- 
 .-'iljal orators of the Convention: but nature seemed to supply all the resources th a 
 *he denied him, by granting him the art of profiting at the same time by the talents nt 
 othi;rs, and by the faults which they might commit. Strong in his intei::rity in pecu- 
 niary matters, he always took care to opi'u the path of honours, and especially o( 
 riches, to his rivals, that he might be furnished with additional means of mining tliein, 
 vvhiMi they became obnoxious to him. Of all the men whom the Revolution brouglit 
 into notice, none has left a name so generally abhorred as Robespierre.'' — 1'. 
 
 In th;; Mnnnirs of the Duchess d'Al)raiues, the following highly characteristic anec- 
 dote of Robespierre is related. " \\''hen IMadame de Provence quitted France, the 
 (Countess Lamarhere could not accompany her, much as she wished to do so. But 
 -she was a wife and a mother, and to these lies she was obliged to sacrifice the sr^iUi- 
 inents of gratitude which animated her heart. She remained in France to siiller 
 persHcution and misery. She saw her husband arrested at the head of the troops he 
 commanded, ca^t into a dinigL-on, and conducted to the scatVold. She had the courage 
 to implore the mercy of him who never knew mercy; she threw herself at the feet 
 of Rolii.'spierre. I\Iadame Lamarhere had then the look of a young woman: a com- 
 ph.'xion of dazzling brilliancy, a profusion of fair hair, fine eyes and teeth, could not 
 fall to render her exceedingly attractive. Her beauty was perhaps rather heightened 
 tlian diminished by her despair, when she threw herself at the feet of the dictator, 
 and with a faltering voice implored the pardon of the husband of her child. Cut the 
 axe was in the hand ofthe executioner, and amidst anuptial festival, Roi>espierre pro- 
 nounced the sentence which made a widow and an orphan. It was on that very day, 
 that Roliespierrc gave away in marriage the daughter of a carpenter, named Diiplay, 
 xn whose house he lodged in the Rue St. Honorc. This Duplay was president of 
 the piry on the Q-ueen's trial. The Countess Lamarliere arrived before the hour 
 fixi.'d for the marriage ceremony, and she was obliged to wait in the dining-room, 
 when the table was laid for the nuptial feast. Her feelings may easily be imagined! 
 Thi-re she waited, and was introduced to the carpenter's wife. After she was gone, 
 Robes|)ierrc merely said, 'That woman is very jnetty — very pretty indeed,' accom- 
 paiiving the observation with some odious remarks." E. 
 
 W^e subjoin the opinion entertained by Lucien Bonaparte, himself an ardent apos- 
 tle of liberty, respecting Robespii.u're : " The first months of 1703 beheld the Jacobins 
 redouble their atrocities; and Robespierre, the most cruel hypocrite, and greatest 
 coward of them all, obtained unlimited power. Some ardent imaginations have not 
 nesitated to celebrate the praises of that man, and of his Couthonand St. Just: they 
 have even dared to insinuate that Robespierre was a patriotic victim, immolated by 
 various conspirators more guilty than himself. They have stated that he fell, bijcauso 
 aQ would not proceed in the path of crhne. These assertions are contradicted \)y 
 facts. The revolutionary tribunal was nevermore active than during the last monthi 
 of the power of that merciless tribune. Then were struck with hasty blows all those 
 whom birth, fortune, or talents, distinguished from the crowd. In the monih o 
 April, lAIalesherbes, one of the most virtuous of men, was dragged to the scaSYuld a 
 seventy-two years of age, in the same cart with his sister, his son-in-law, his daughter 
 his grand-daughter, and the husband of that young woman ! Robespierre was then 
 at the height of his power. Because he afterwards decimated his accomplices, and 
 because he struck at Danton and his partisans, was he for that reason to be consi- 
 dered more excusable ? Blood cannot wash away blood ! And as for his festival of 
 the Supreme Being, what else was it but a contempt for the religion of all French 
 men, and a denial of the gospel 7 Blood was not sufficient for the incorruptible 
 He desired even to thrust his sacrilegious hands into the depths of our very con 
 science." — Memoirs of the Prince of Canino. E. 
 
 * At this period Pction was one of the most influential men of the Revolution. 
 He was an advocate at Chartres, and had been deputed to the States-General by the 
 licrs-eVai of the bailiwick in that city, and distinguished himself by a thorough zeaJ 
 for the revolutionary party. Endowed with a pleasing address and a disposition evei 
 
lO'l HISTORY OF THE 
 
 occasion to refiT to the dinner of the hfe-guards, and denounced tho 
 imprecations uttered against the Assembly. Gregoire adverted to the 
 dearth, and inquired why a letter had been sent to a miller with a pro- 
 mise of two hundred livres a week if lie would give up grinding. The 
 letter proved nothing, for any of the parties might have written it ; 
 still it excited great tumult, and M. de Monspey proposed that Petion 
 should r,'^n its denunciation. Mirabeau, who had disapproved in the 
 trihunt itself of the course adopted by Petion and Gregoire, then 
 came forvard to reply to M. de Monspey. " I have been the very 
 first," said lie, " to disapprove of these impolitic denunciations; but, 
 since they are insisted upon, I will myself denounce, and I will sign, 
 when it has been declared that there is nothing inviolable in France 
 but the King." Silence succeeded to this terrible apostrophe ; and 
 the Assembly returned to the consideration of the King's answer. It 
 was eleven in the forenoon ; tidings of the movements in Paris arrived. 
 Mirabeau went up to Mounier, the president, avIio, recently elected in 
 spite of the Palais Royal, and threatened with a glorious fall, exhibited 
 
 enterprising:, althoug^h weak in danger, he became, iu spite of the mediocrity of his 
 talents, one of the prime movers in the RevohUion. On the 5th of October, he de- 
 nounced the b:iiiqnets of the body guards, and seconded tlie designs of the factionof 
 Orleans, to whirli he was then entirely devoted. On the 8th, he proposed giving to 
 tlie KiiiL' t!ie litle of ' King of the Frencii by the consent of the Nation,' and sup- 
 pre.-sin;;; liie form of 'by tlie Grace of God.' In the course of 1790, lie supported 
 tlie revolutionary party with consideraide zeal. On the 4th of December, llie Na- 
 tional A--;sfmli]v "el..-cted him their president. In June following, he was appointed 
 president of thn CrimiuarjVibunal of Paris. When the Assembly was informed of 
 tlie departuKi' of LouisXVI., he was one of the three commissioners appointed to go 
 to Vuremics after this prince. At tlie end of September, the Duke of OrlV'isr'seiit 
 him to j^ngland; and on his return he obtained the situation of I^Inyor, of which he 
 took possf-;-;ion on the ISth of November. It is from this period that his real inCu- 
 ence may be dated, as well as the outrages with which he did not cease to overwhelm 
 the King, somi^tlmes by handbills, and souietimes through the means of insuiTCCtions, 
 On the :^>d of Aui^ust, he furuially demanded of the Assembly, in the name of the Com 
 mune, the deposition of Louis. On the 10th, he took care to be confined at home 
 by the insurgents under hi.^ orders, at the very time that his adiierents were preparing 
 to attack the palaee. It is doubtftd whether Petion were privy to the massacres of 
 September, although Prudhomme declares that the mayor, the ministers, See. were 
 agreed. IJeing appointed Deputy of Euro et Loire to the Convention, lie was the 
 first president of that assembly, which, at its tlrst meeting on tlie 21st of September, 
 ]7!)'2, decreed the abolition of royalty. From that time, until the death of Louis 
 XVL, Pption ascended the tribune almost every dny to m*ge tlie monarch's execution ; 
 and at this period he also laboured in the intere-f-- of the Duke of Orleans, to whose 
 party he appeared very constantly attacheu. In November, however, a hatreiJ which 
 was in the end fatal to him, began to break out between Pi.Uion and Robespierre, 
 although np to that lime they had been called the two fingers of the hand. In 
 January, 1793, he votexi for the death of Louis XVL ; and on the 25th of ftLirch he 
 was appointed a ujember of the first committee of public safety, and of general de- 
 fence. From tho declarations of General .Miaczinski, who had asserted that I'ction 
 was concnrned in the projects of Dumouriez, occasion was taken — through the 
 means of Robespierre, Danton.and that parly — to form a committee for examining 
 into his conduct. On the 2d of June, a decree of accusation was passed against 
 Petion, and on the 20111 o<' July he was outlawed because he had succeeded in escap 
 mg from liisown house. In 1794 he was foiuid dead of hunger, or assassinated, and 
 liait" devoured by he.ists, m a field in the department of Gironde. Petion is soid to 
 Ims had an air of hiug^niniess, a fine face, and an aftable look." — From the Dio' 
 graphw Modcrnc. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 103 
 
 m this melanclioly day unconquerable firmness.* Mirabcau appioach 
 ed hiin. " Paris," said he, " is marching upon us; would itbeamisa 
 to go to the pahiee to tell the King to accept purely and simply T' — 
 "Paris is marching!" replied Mounier ; "so much the better ; let 
 them kill us all — yes, all ! the state will be a gainer by it." — "A very 
 pref.y sentiment indeed !" rejoined IMirabeau, and he returned to his 
 Beat The discussion continued till three o'clock, and it was decided 
 that the president should go to the King to demand his bare and sim- 
 ple acceptance. At the moment when JMounier was setting out for the 
 palace, a deputation was announced : it was IMaillard and the women 
 who had followed him. JMaillard desired to be admitted and heard. 
 He was introduced ; the women rushed in after him, and penetrated 
 into the hall, lie then represented what had happened, the scarcity 
 of bread, and the distress of tli(.' people. He mentioned the letter ad- 
 dressed to the miller, and said that a person whom they met by tlic 
 way had told them that a clergyman was charged to denounce it. 
 This clergyman was Gregoire, and, as we have just seen, it had actu- 
 ally been denounced by liim. A voice then accused Juigne, bishop of 
 Paris, of being the writer of the letter. Cries of indignation arose to 
 repel the imputation cast on the virtuous jirelate. Maillard and his 
 deputation were called to order. He was told that means had bceri 
 adopted to supply Paris with provisions ; that the King had neglected 
 nothing ; that the Assembly was going to petition him to take fresh 
 measures; that he and his followers must retire; and that disturb- 
 ance was not the way to put an end to the dearth. IMounier then re- 
 tired to proceed to the palace ; but the women surrounded and insisted 
 on accompanying him. He at first declined, but was obliged to allow 
 six to go with him. He passed through the mob which had come from 
 Paris, and Avhich Avas armed with pikes, hatchets, and sticks pointed 
 with iron. A heavy rain was falling. A detachment of the life-guarda 
 fell upon the crowd which surrounded the president and dispersed it ; 
 but the women soon overtook Mounier, and Jie reached the palace, 
 where the Flanders regiment, the dragoons, the Swiss, and the nation- 
 al militia of Versailles, were drawn up in order of battle. Instead of 
 six Avomen, he was obliged to introduce twelve. The King received 
 them graciously, and deplored their distress. They were affected. 
 One of them, young and handsome, overawed at the sight of the mo- 
 
 *" j"\roniiier Ava'! a man of stroiiir jiulirmcnt ;ind inflexible diameter, u'ho consi- 
 lerod ill!' system ol' tlio I'n^Hish coii-;titiition as the type of representative govern- 
 iients.and wislnxl to ellecttlie Revolution by accommodation, lie, and those who 
 rhouiriit with him, were called the IMonarchists. 'J'hey desired, besides a chamber of 
 of repre-ifiitatives. to have a senate whose members should bo n(uninated by the 
 Kiii;:^ on the jiresenlation ofthe people. Thi'v thoiiLdit that this was the oidy mpar\.s 
 of presentuiL'' the (vramiy of a simple assemblv. The majority of the Assembly 
 nould have wi.-hed, not a |>eerage, but an aristocratic as>endjly, of which it shoidd 
 iiominare the nienil)ers. They could not then be heard, Mounier's party refusing to 
 co-opi'rate in a [U'oject which would have revived the orders, and the aristocrat3 
 reiiM-tin;:^ a L-en ite which would have confirmed the ruin ofthe noblesse. The 
 preater nnud^er ol the deputies of the cleriry and of the commons advocate :J Jie 
 nnity of the .\ssembly. Thus the nobility from discontent, and the natior al part}- 
 from the spint of absoUite justice, concurred in rejecting die high chamber '— JMig- 
 Kd. E. 
 
 VOL. .1 — 14. 
 
lOG HISTORY OF THE 
 
 iiaich, could sciircely ^ive utterance to the word Bread! The King, 
 deeply moved, eiubraced her, and tlic women returned softened by thia 
 reception. Their coniprinions received them at the gate of the palace ; 
 they would not beheve their report, declared that they had suffered 
 themselves to bo tampered with, and prepared to tear them iu pieces. 
 The life-guards, commanded by the Count de Guiche, hastened to re- 
 lease them ; musket-shots were hred from various quarters ; two of 
 the guards fell, and several of the women were wounded. Not far 
 from the spot, one of the mob. at the head of a party of women, 
 forced his way through tlie ranks of the battalions and advanced to the 
 iron iiate of the palace. M. de Savonnieres pursued him, but he re- 
 ceived a ball which broke his arm. These skirmishes produced the 
 greatest irritation on both sides. The King, apprized of the danger, 
 sent orders to his guards not to fire, and to retire to their hotel. Wliile 
 they were retiring, a few shots were exchanged between them and the 
 national guard of Versailles, and it never could be ascertained from 
 which side the first were fired. 
 
 Meanwhile the King was holding a council, and Mounier impatient- 
 ly awaited his answer. He sent word repeatedly that his functions 
 required his presence with the Assembly, that the news of the sanc- 
 tion would pacify all minds, that he would retire if an answer wcro 
 not brought, for he would not longer absent himself from the post to 
 winch his duties called him. The question discussed in the council 
 was, whether the King should leave Versailles. The council lasted 
 from six till ten at night, and the King, it is said, was against leaving 
 the place vacant for the Duke of Orleans. An attempt was made to 
 send off the Queen and the children, but the crowd stopped the carriages 
 tlie moment they appeared ; and, besides, the Queen was firmly re- 
 solved not to leave her husband. At length, about ten o'clock, 
 Mounier received the bare and simple acceptance, and returned to the 
 Assembly. The deputies had retired, and the women occupied the 
 hall. He communicated to them the Ring's acceptance, with which 
 they were highly pleased ; and they inquired if they sliould be the 
 better for it, and especially if they should have bread. Mounier gave 
 them the most favourable answer that he could, and directed all the 
 bread that could be procured to be distributed among them. In the 
 course of this night, the faults of which it is so difficult to charge 
 to the right account, the municipality committed the blunder of ne- 
 glecting to provide for the wants of this famislied mob, which had left 
 Paris owing to the want of bread, and which could not since have 
 found any on the way. 
 
 At this moment, intelligence was received of the arrival of Lafay- 
 ette. For eight iiours he had been opposing the national mihtia of 
 Paris, who were for proceeding to Versailles. " General," said one of 
 his grenadiers to him, " you do not deceive us, but you deceive yoiu' 
 self. Instead of turning our arms against women, let us go to Ver* 
 saillcs to fetch the King, and make sure of his good disposition h}- 
 placing him in the midst of us." Lafayette had hitherto withstood 
 the solicitations of his army and the inundation of the mob. His 
 soldiers were not attached to him by victory, but b) opiiiion; and 
 
FRE^•CH REVOLUTION. 107 
 
 abandoned by their opinion, he could no longer contiol them. lie 
 iieverlheless contrived to ^^toj) them till ni^lit ; but his voice recic.hed 
 only to a small distance, and beyond that, nothing could appea&e the 
 fury of the multitude. II i^ life hud several times been threatened, atid 
 still he resisted. He knew, nevertheless, that hordes wp'c continually 
 leaving Paris, and, as the insnrrectioji was transferring itself to Ver- 
 sailles, it became his duty to follow it thither. The commune directed 
 him to go, and at last he set out. By the way, he halted his army, 
 made it swear to be faithful to the Ki)ig, and arrived at Versailles 
 about midnight. He sent word to iMounier that the army had 
 l)romised to do its duty, and that nothing shoidd be done contrary 
 to the law. He hastened to the palace : with every demonstration 
 of res])ectand sorrow, he informed the King of the precautions which 
 had been taken, and assured him of his attachment and that of his 
 army. The King appeared tranquillizx'd, and retired to rest. The 
 giutrd of the palace had been refused to Lafayette, and the outi)<)st:> 
 alone had been granted to him. Tlie other posts were destined for 
 the Flanders regiment, whose dispositions coidd not be im])hcitly re- 
 lied on, fur the Swiss, and for the life-guards. Tliese latter had at fnst 
 been ordered to retire ; they had afterwards been recalled, and, being 
 unable to assemble, there was but a small number of them at tlieir 
 })ost. Amidst the tumult which prevailed, all the accessible parts had 
 not been defended : an iron gate had even been left open. Lafayette 
 caused the outer posts intrusted to him to be occupied, and none of 
 them was forced or even attacked. 
 
 'I'hc Assembly, notwithstanding the uproar, had resumed its sitting, 
 and was engaged, with the inost miposing attitude, in a discussion on 
 the penal laws. ]Miiabeau, wearied out, exclaimed aloud that the As- 
 sembly had not to receive the law from any one, and that it should (h- 
 rect the tribunes to be cleared. The people vehemently applauded 
 his ajjostrophe ; but the Assembly deemed it prudent not to make any 
 more resistance. Lafayette having sent word to Mounier that all ap- 
 peared to him to be quiet, and that he might dismiss the deputies, the 
 Assendjly adjourned till eleven the following day, and broke vij). 
 
 The crowd had dispersed itself here and there, and appeared to be 
 pacified. Lafayette had reason to feel confidence, as well from the 
 attachment of his army, which in fact did not belie his good opinion, 
 as from the tranquillity which seemed every where to prevail. He had 
 secured the hotel of the life-guards, and sent out numerous patroles. 
 At five in the morning he was still up. Conceiving that all was then 
 quiet, he took some refreshment, and threw himself upon a bed, to 
 uhta'ui a little rest, of which lie had been deprived for the last twenty- 
 tour hours.* 
 
 * History cannot bestow too much space on the justification even of individiiala 
 especially in a revolution in which the principal parts were extremely ninnerous 
 M, de Lafayette has been so cahimniated, and his character is nevertheless so pure 
 so consistent, that it is right to devote, atleast, one note to liim. His conduct during 
 the 5th and Gth of October was that of continual self-devotion, and yet it I as beeo 
 represented as criminal by men who owed their lives to it. He lias been reproacliec 
 in tlie first place, with the very violence of the national guard, wh'ch drew hiaj 
 
I OS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 ^t this moment llie people began to stir, and they wtre already 
 throngmg to the environs of the palace.* A quarrel took place with 
 v\n) of the jife-guards, wlio fired from the windows. The brigands 
 inunediately rushed on, passed the gate wliicli liad been left open, as- 
 cended a staircase, where they found no obstruction, and were at lengtli 
 stopped by two life-guardsmen, who heroically defended themsehxs, 
 falling back only foot by foot, and retiring from door to door. One 
 of these generous servants was Miomandre ; he shouted, " Save the 
 Queen !" This cry was heard, and tlie Queen ran trembling to tJic 
 King's apartments. While she was escaping, the brigands pushed for- 
 
 aj^iiinst his will to Versailles. Nothing can be more iinjust. Tor though you may 
 with firmness (-oiitrol Foldiers whom you have long led to victory, yet citizejis recoilly 
 and voUintarily enrolled, and who obey you merely from the enthusiasm oflheir 
 o))inioii3, are irresistible when these opinions get the better of them. J\I. de Lafayette 
 struggled against them for a whole day, and certainly nobody could expect more. 
 Besides, nothing could be more beneficial than bis departure; for, but for the nn- 
 lional guard, the palace would have been stormed, and it is impossiblij to say what 
 might have been the fate of the royal family amidst the popular exasperation. As 
 we have already seen, the hfe-guards would have been overpowered but for the na- 
 tional guards. The presence of M. de Lafayette and hla troops at Versailles vvaa 
 therefore indispensable. 
 
 Not only has he been reproached for having gone thither, but he lias also been 
 censured for having gone to bed when there, and this indulgence has been nrnde the 
 eubject of the most virulent and oft-repeated attacks. The truth is, that M. de ha- 
 fayette remained up till the morning; that ho passed the whole night in sending out 
 patroles ar^d restoring order and tranquillity; and what proves h(.-w judiciously his 
 precautious were take?i is, that none of the posts committed to his care was attacked. 
 All appeared quint, and he did what any one else would have d.me in his place, he 
 threw himself on n bed, to get a little rest, which he so much needed after struggling 
 for twenty-four hours against the populace. IJut that rest Usted no longer than 
 half an hour. He was stirring at the first outcries, and in tiir.e to save the life-guards 
 who were aliout ti' be massacred. What then is it possible to reproacli him with? 
 not having been present at the first minute 7 but this might have happened in ajiy 
 oilier case, 'fhe issuing of an order or the inspecting of a post might have taken 
 him away for half an hour from the point where the first attack was to take place; 
 and his absence at the first moment ol"tlie action was the most inevitable of all acci 
 dents. But did he arrive in time to save almost all the victims, to preserve the palace 
 and the august personages within it? did he generously involve himself uj tlio 
 greatest dangers? This i? what cannot be denied, and what procured him at the 
 time universal thanks. Tnere was then but one voice among those wjiom he had 
 saved. ]\f adame de Stael, who cannot be suspected of partiality in favour of M. tU 
 Lafayette, relates that she heard the life-guards shouting Lf//«?/c;/c/wr crcr! Mounier, 
 whose testimony is equally above suspicion, commends his zeal; and J\L de Lally- 
 ToUeuda! regrets that at this crisis he had not been invested with a kind of dictator- 
 ship. (See his Report to his Constituents.) These two deputies have expressed 
 tliemselvcs so strongly against the 5th and Gth of October, that their evidence may 
 be received with perfect confidence. At any rate, in the first moment nobody durst 
 deny an activity that was universally acknowledged. Subsequently, the spirit of 
 the party, feeling the danger of allowing any virtues to a constitutionHllst, denied 
 the .services of Lafayette, and then commenced that long series of calumny to which 
 he litis ever since been exposed. 
 
 '' " Nothing occurred to interrupt the public tranquillity from three till five o'clock 
 m the morning; but the aspect of the populace presaged an approaching storm. 
 Large groups of .savage men and intoxicated women vvere'seated round the watch-fires 
 in all the streets of Versailles, and relieved the tedium of a rainy night by singing revo- 
 hitlonary .songs. In one of these circles their exasperation was such, that, seated 
 on the corpse of one of the body-guard, they devoured the Hesh of his horse half- 
 roasted in the flames, while a ring of frantic cannibals danced round the group. At 
 ^ I clock a furious mob rushed towards the palace, and finding a gate open, speedily 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 109 
 
 ward, found the royal bed forsaken, and would have penetrated far- 
 ther, but they were again checked by tlie life-guards, posted in consi- 
 derable number at that point.- At this moment the French guards be- 
 longing to Lafayette, stationed near the palace, hearing tbe uproar, 
 hastened to the spot, and dispersed the brigands. They arrived at the 
 door beliind whicb the life-guards were intrenched. " Open the door," 
 they cried : "the French guards have not forgotten that you saved their 
 regiment at Fontonoi." The door was opened and tliey rushed into 
 each other*s arms. 
 
 Tumult reigned without. Lafayette, who had lain down only 
 for a few moments, and had not even fallen asleep, hearing tlie noise, 
 leaped upon the first horse be met witli, galloped into the thick of t!ic 
 fray, and tliere found several of the life-guards on the point of being 
 slaujThtered. While he was disen<Ta<Tin2^ them, lie ordered liis trooiis 
 to hasten to the palace, and remained alone amidst the brigands. 
 One of them took aim at him. Lafayette coolly commanded the peo- 
 ple to bring the man to him. The mob instantly seized the culprit, 
 and, before the face of Lafiyette, dashed out his brains against the 
 pavement. After saving the life-guards, Lafayette flew with them to 
 the palace, and there found his grenadiers, who had already repaired 
 thither. They all surrounded him, and vowed to die for the King. 
 At this moment, the life-guards, who had been saved from destruction, 
 shouted Lafayette for ever ! The whole court, seeing themselves pre- 
 served by him and his troops, acknowledged that to him they were 
 indebted for their lives. These testimonies of gratitude were univer- 
 sal. Madame Adelaide, the Kind's aunt, ran up to him, and clasp- 
 ed him in her arms, saying, •' General, you have saved us." 
 
 The populace at this nnnnent insisted with loud cries that the King 
 should go to Paris.* A council was held. Lafayette, being invited 
 
 filled the staircases and vestibules of the royal apartments. The assassins rushed into 
 t!io Queen's rnoui a Jew minutes after slie had ieft it, and, enraged at finding tiieir 
 victim escaped, pierced her bod with their bayonets ! Tliey then dragged the bodies 
 of two of the bodv-guard who had been massacred, below the windows of the King, 
 beheaded them, and carried the bloody lieads in triumph upon the points of their 
 pikes tlirough the streets of Versailles." — Alison. E. 
 
 * " The molj crowded in the marble court, and wandering on the outside of the 
 palace, began to express again their designs with frightful bowlings. ' To Paris ! 
 To Paris I' were the first cries. Their prey was promised them, and then fresh 
 cries ordered tlie unforttmate family to appear on the balcony. The Q,ueen sliowed 
 herself accompanied by lier children ; she v.'as forced by tlireats to send them away. 
 1 mixed in the crowd, and beheld for the first tinie that unfortunate Princess; sha 
 was dressed in white, her head was bare, and adorned with beautiful fair locks. 
 Motionless, nud in a modest and noble attitiule, she appeared to me like a victim on 
 the block. The enraged populace were not niove<i at the siglit of wo in xA\ it3 
 majesty, buju^ecations increased, and the unfortunate Princess could not even find 
 a support in the King, for his presence only augmented the fury of the nuiltiuide. 
 At last preparations lor departure did more towards appeasing them tliau ])romise9 
 could have done, and by twelve o'clock the frightfLd processioji set otT. I liope such 
 a scene will never be wiuiessed again! I have often asked myself how the metropo- 
 lis of a nation, so celebrated for urbanity and elegance of manners — how the 
 brilliant city of Paris could contain the savage hordes i that day beheld, and who so 
 long reigned over it ! In walking through the streets of Paris, it seems to n)e, the 
 features even of the lowest and most miserable class of people do not present to tiie 
 'jyeany tinng like ferociousness, or the meanest passions in all their hideoua energy 
 
no HISTORY OF THE 
 
 lo attend it, refused, that he might not impose any restraint on the 
 freedom of opinion. It was at length decided that the court should 
 comply with the wish of the people. Slips of paper, containing thia 
 intimation, were thrown out of tlie windows. Louis XVI. then showed 
 himself at the balcony, accompanied by tiie general, and was greeted 
 with shouts of " Loi}g live the King /" But the Queen did not fare 
 the same : threatening voices were raised against her. Lafayette ac- 
 costed her. " IMadame," said he, " what will you do "?" — " Accom- 
 pany the King," undauntedly replied the Queen. " Come with me 
 then," rejoined the general, and he led her in amaze to the balcony. 
 Some threats were oifered by the populace. A fatal shot might be 
 fired ; words could not be heard ; it was necessary to strike the eye. 
 Stoopino- and taking the hand of the Queen, the general kissed it res- 
 pectfully. The mob of Frenchmen was transported at this action, 
 and confirmed tlie reconciliation by shouts of Long live the Queen! 
 Long live Lafayette ! Peace was not yet made with the life-guards. 
 " Will you not do something for my guards'?" said the King to La- 
 fayette. The latter took one of them and led him to the balcony, 
 clasped him in his arms, and put on him his own shoulder-belt. The 
 populace again cheered, and ratified by its plaudits this new reconci- 
 liation. 
 
 The Assembly had not deemed it consistent with its dignity to go 
 to the monarch, though he had desired it to do so. It had contented 
 itself with sending to him a deputation of thirty-six members. As soon 
 as it was apprized of his intended departure, it passed a resolution 
 purporting that the Assembly was inseparable from the person of the 
 sovereign, and it nominated one hundred deputies to accompany him 
 to Paris. The King received the resolution, and set out.* 
 
 Can those passions alter the features so as to deprive them of all likeness to Iniraaniiy 7 
 Or does ihe terror inspired by the sight of a guilty wretch give him the semblance 
 of a wild beast? These madmen, dancing in the mire, and covered with mud, sur- 
 rounded the King's coach. The groups that marched foremost carried on long pikes 
 the bloody heads of the life-guardsmen butciiered in the morning. Surely Satan 
 himself first invented the phchig of a human head at the end of alance! The dis- 
 figm-ed and pale features, the gory locks, the half-open mouth, the closed eyes, images 
 of death added to the gestures and salutations which the executioners made them 
 perform in horrible mockery of life, presented the most frightful spectacle that rage 
 could have imagined. A troop of women, ugly as crime itself, swarming like insects, 
 aiid wearing grenadiers' hairy caps, went continually to and fro, hovvli ig barbaroua 
 songs, embracing and insulting the life-guards. This scene lasted for eight hours 
 before the royal family arrived at the Place de Greve. They alighted at the Hotel 
 de Ville, their first-resting place during protracted misery, that terminated some years 
 afterwards m a horrible death. Tims ended the memorable Gth of October !"—Jlfe 
 nic'irs of Lnvriltdtc. E. 
 
 * " The King did not leave Versailles till one o'clock. The hundred deputies in 
 their carriages followed him. A detachment of brigands, carrying in triumph the 
 heads of the two life-guards, formed the advanced guard, which had set oiVtwo hours 
 earlier. These cannibal* stopped for a moment at Sevres, and carried their ferocity 
 to such a pitch as to force an unfortunate barber to dress the hair of those two bleed* 
 ing heads. Tlie main body of the Parisian army immediately followed. Before the 
 King's carriage marched the poissardes, who had como the preccdini'- evening from 
 Paris, and that whole army of abandoned women, the scnm of theirsex, still drunk 
 with fury and with wine. Several of them were astride upon the cannon, celebrating 
 by the most abominable songs all the crimes which they had committed or wtuesscd 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. Ill 
 
 The principal bands of the mob had already gone. Lauiyette had 
 sent after ther.i a detachment of the army, lo prevent them from turn- 
 in:;; back. He also issued onk-r.s for disarmiuif the briirands -who were 
 earn ing the heads of two life-gniardsmen on the point of their pikes. 
 These honible tropliies were taken from them, and it is not true that 
 they were borne before the carriage of the Kingv^ 
 
 Others, nearer to the Kind's carringe, were singing allegorical airs, and by their gross 
 ges^tiires applying the insulting alhisinns in theui to the Cltircn. Carts laden with 
 rorti and Hour, which had come to Versailles, formed a convoy escorted bv grena- 
 diers, and snrronnded by women and market-porters armed willi pikes, or carrying 
 large poplar bouiiiis. This part of the cortege produced at some distance the most 
 eiiigtilar elfect : it looked like a moving wood, aimdst which glistened pd^e-heads and 
 gun-harrels. In the transports of their brutal joy, the women stopped the passen- 
 gers and yelled in their ears, while pointing to the royal carriage, ' Courage, my 
 fiiends ; we shall have plenty of bread now that we have got the baker, the b iker's 
 willj, and the i)aker's boy.' Behind iiis majesty's carriage were some of his faitlil'ul 
 g'lards, partly on foot, partly on horseback, most of them without hats, all disarmed, 
 and cxhaii<ti'd with hunger and fatigue. The dragoons, the Flanders regiment, the 
 Cent-Snisscs, and the national guards, preceded, accompanied, and followed the tile 
 of carriages. 
 
 " I was an eyewitness of this distressing spectacle, this melancholy procession. 
 Amidst this tumult, this clamour, these songs interrupted by frequent discharges of 
 nnisketrv, which the hand of a monster or an awkward person might have rendered 
 so fatal, i saw the tiueen retain the most courageous tranrjuiility of mind, and an air of 
 inexpressiiile nobleness and dignity: my eyes filled with tears ol' admiration and 
 grii'f." — Uvrtranddc Mullcvillc. K. 
 
 * The f()lh)wiiig is Lafayette's own account of this alDdr. It is derived from the 
 postluunous Memoirs of tlie General, lately pidjlish^d liy his Jannly : "The numerous 
 auil armed luudes whoquilted Paris on theoth of October, and who, united with the 
 po[)ulari! of V^Jr-;ailles, committed the disorders of that day, were totally distinct Irora 
 ihii immi'nse a'^seniljlage that, blockading themsfdvfs and n^ made it dillicult for the 
 news of that tuundtuous departure ibr V'ers;iilles to reach the Hotel de Ville. I in- 
 stantly perceived that, whatever mi;iht ije the consequence of this doidde movement, 
 the pulihc safety required that I should take part m it, and, after having received 
 from lliL' Hotel de V^ille an order and two commissaries. I hastdy provided for the 
 secuntv of Paris, and took the road to Versailles at the i.ead of several battalions. 
 W^ien wi' a[iproached the hall of the Assembly, the troops renewed their oath. They 
 only advanced after I had otFered my respects to the president, and received orders 
 frouj the King, who, having heard speeches from the connnissaries and me, desired 
 Die to occupy the posts of the former French guards; and in truth, at tliat time, the 
 preteiisiou of taking possession of the palace would have appeared a most singular 
 one. Not only the gardes-du-corpg on service, but the Swiss sentinels stationed m 
 the gardiMi, and four hundred gardes-du-corps on horseback on the side towards 
 Trianon, were not dependent m the slightest degree on me. I did not undoubtedly 
 carry ti'rror into the palace; I answered for my own troops; the result proved that I 
 Was riirht in doing so. I was not sulHciently master of the minds of the courtiers ti> 
 believe that their security depended solely on myself; — for examjde, it was not I who 
 sent to their own homes, in Versailles, the greatest number of the olHcers of the 
 gardes-du-corps; nor was it I who sent to Rambouillet, at two o'clock in the morn- 
 ing (instead of employing them in forming patroles) the four hundred horse-guards 
 placed on the side nearest to the gardens of Trianon. 
 
 [I have been told by a person worthy of credit, who had this piece of intelligence 
 from ]\1. de la Tour dii Pin, the minister, that the King had hesitated until two in the 
 morning respecting the projects of flight proposed to him.] 
 
 " I procured lodgings for the drenched and fatigued troops; I ascertained that the 
 Hotel des tiardes-du-corps was defended bv a battalion: I ordered patroles in the 
 town, and round the palace. The mitrv into the King's chamber was refused me '\\ 
 two o'clock in the morning : I then repaired to the house of fli. de lAIontmoiin, in tho 
 ministers' court, within reach of my grenadiers. At breakof day all things appeared 
 to me to wear a tranquil aspect; I went to the Hotel de Noailles, very near the palace, 
 
1 12 HISTORY OF rilE 
 
 Louis XVI. at length returned amidst a considerable concourse 
 and was received by Ijailly at tlie Ilutel de Ville. " I return with con- 
 fidence," said tlie Ring, "into the midst of my people of Paris." 
 
 ia wliich the staff received reports. I made some necessary arrajigcmcnts for Paris; 
 I partook of some refreshments; and should liave believed that e.xhausted nature ro- 
 qnired, after more titan twenty honrs' nm-emittini,^ exertion, some repose, if, a ftw 
 minutes kiter, a sndden alarm iiad not restored to me all my strength. 
 
 "That infernal irruption was in trnth most sndden, and perfectly distinct from iho 
 otlier tumults. Two gardes-du-corps were killed; other brave and faithful guards 
 stopped the brigands at the door of the apartment of the Q,neen, who was conducted 
 to tlie King by the young Victor JManbourg, one of their officers. The grenadiers 
 of my advanced post had scarcely arranged tbemsclves in order of battle, whcji they 
 received my connnand to hasten to the palace. A volunteer company also repaired 
 thither very speedily. I flew at the same time to the spot, having sprung on the first 
 hf)rsc I met with. I was fortunate enougli in the first instance to liberate a group of 
 gardes-du-corps, and, iiaviug confided them to the charge of the few persons who ac- 
 companied me, I remained surrounded by a furious mob, one of whom cried out to 
 tlie others to kdl me. I comunnided them to seize him, 'doubtless in a very authori- 
 tative voice, for they dragged him towards me, striking his head on the pavement. 
 1 found tlie apartments occupied with national guards. The King deigned never 
 to forget die scone tliat ensued, when the grenadiers, with tears in their eyes, 
 promised me to perish to the last man with him. iJuring that time our guards were 
 arriving; the courts were lined with national guards, and filled with a multitude in 
 a high sLate of excitement. Those who heard me address the King were not dissatis 
 Tied with my expressions. 
 
 " I had long been of opinioji that the Assen)bly w^ould be more quiet, and the 
 King more secure, in Paris. 1 refused, however, beii^g present at the deliberation, 
 (become necessary, I own,) in which the departure was decided upon ; ajid as soon 
 as the Queen had declared her noble determination of accompanying die King, I did, 
 before thousands of witnesses, all that coidd be ex))ected from the circumstances and 
 my devotion, [t was then tliat in tlie King's cabinet, while embraced by flladaiiio 
 Adelaide, I received Irom that respectable princess testimonies of approbation tliat ill 
 prepared me for the abuse from wliich I have since been obliged to vindicate myself 
 
 " The statements of the proceedings of the Chatelet have mingled together tiie as 
 sertions, opinions, reports, and even suppositions, of men of all parties. Such al> 
 su2-d accusations are found there, as that ftlirabeau was seen on the 5th armed with 
 a sabre, among the soldiers of a Flemish regiment; that a prince distributed money 
 at six o'clock in the morning; and several tales of the same nature, the falsehood of 
 which is evident. — I have looked over some letters from officers and gardes-du- 
 corps, found in the King's cabinet, written in 1790 and 17U1. Some of them ad- 
 dressed to a friend are evidently intended to etlace, at the expense of otlier persons, 
 unfavourable expressions ; other letters contain inaccuracies, contradictions, and in- 
 signincant phrases; but all of thorn tend to prove that we only had charge of the 
 ancient posts, the French guards ; that when the chiefs of the gardes-du-corps required 
 instructions, it was to the King, the ministers, and IM, d' Estaing, and not to me, that 
 tliey thought proper to apply; that I had taken, and even redoubled, every precaution 
 for the Hotel des Gardes-du-corps; that those guards, as well as the palace, were 
 saved by us; and that a wounded guard of the King selected my house in Paris as 
 the place in which he would best be taken care of. Tiiose words * M. de LafayettP 
 has saved us,' are continually repeated. Among the false assertions that have been 
 propagated, I shall relate but one ; it was said that the heads of two unfortunate 
 gardes-du-corps had been carried before the carriage of the King. While we were 
 otdy thinking of saving their comrades and the royal family, it is sufliciently horrible 
 that bandits should have escaped with the infamous trophies of their crimes; but they 
 had arrived at the Palais Royal ; and puldic authority had succeeded in dispersing 
 them, before the King had even quilted Versailles." E. 
 
 " Lafayette, born in Auvergne, of one of the most ancient families of that province, 
 was eni])loyed, when still young, in the army that Louis XVI. sent to defend the inde- 
 pendence of the English colonies of North America. Rochambeau placed him at tho 
 head of some volunteers, and in this manner he served with some distinction during 
 the whole war. He returned to France with the rank of major-general, full e/ 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 113 
 
 Ballly repeated these words to tliose \vlio could not hear them, hul he 
 for2;ot tl)c word confidence. "Add with confidence^'''' said the Queen. 
 " You are happier," replied Bailly, " than if I had said it myself."* 
 
 ifloas of liberty. Bring appointed by the noI)lesse of his province, deputy to the States- 
 Guiiural, he voted thai the examination of the powers should take place in common. 
 Al'Ler the union ofthe three order-!, he insisted, with Mirabeau, on the removal ofthe 
 troops whom the court was marching towards Paris. Being appointed vice-president, 
 he presented his weU-known dechiration of rights. In July, 1781), he was appointed 
 commander ofthe Parisian national guard. A few days after the famous 5lli of October, 
 Lafayette, in a conference very Imperious on the one side, and very timid on the other, 
 gave the Duke ol' (Orleans to understand that his name was the pretext for all conuno- 
 tions, and that he must leave the kingdom ; an apparent mission was given to this prince, 
 and he set out for England. In Februarv, 17IJU, Lafayette, in the Assembly, solicited 
 measures for repre^-ing the disturbers oi" tlie provinces, and indemnifying the pro- 
 prietors of burnt houses; these excesses he attributed to the counter-revolutionary 
 spirit. He afterwards voted for the suppression of titles of honour and nobility 
 refusing even to admit of an exception in favour ofthe princes. At the Federatioc 
 in .July, he presented the national guards, who were collected from every part ofthe 
 kingdom, to the Assembly and the King. At the time of Louis's flight, he was accn 
 sed by the Jacobins of having assisted in it. and by the Royalists of iiaving contri 
 vod the arrest of his sovereign. When the King's fate was debated in the Assembly. 
 I;afa\'ette was among those who objected to the motion for bringing him to trial, and 
 declaring him deposed. AVhen the Constitution was accepted, Lafayette voted for 
 the amnesty demanded by the King, and resigned his otlice of commander of the 
 guard, u|ion which the nnuiicipality ordered a gold medal to be struck in bislionour. 
 lu 17!J2 Lafiyette went to l\Ietz, where he took the command ofthe central army, 
 At Hrst he encamped under the walls of (iivet, but his advanced guard, posted near 
 I'hilipsburg, met with a slight chi.'ck, upon which he removed to the intrenched camp 
 at JMaubeige, and placed his advanced guard at Grisnelles, under the command of 
 (jouvion, where it v/as surprised and cut to pieces, and its leader killed by a cannon- 
 ball. Shortly afterwards Lafayette's army received accounts ofthe attempt nuule on 
 the 20th of June, and, in ditferent addresses, declared its disapprobation of the out- 
 rage offered on that day to Louis. Proud of such support, Lafayette went to Paris, 
 and appeared at the bar ofthe legislative body, where he complained of these oiitra- 
 gr?s, and accused the Jacobins. For one moment the Assembly seemed intimidated 
 by this stt.'p, but the faction soon took courage : and Lafayette returned to his army 
 fii'tcr having in vain urged Louis to leave Paris, and come among his troops, who were 
 tlieu failhfiil. Soon af^ter, commissions h;iving been sent from Paris to insist on his re- 
 jnoval from his command, he addressed his troops in a proclamation, in which he called 
 on them to choose between the Constitution and Petionfor a king. The whole army 
 exclaimed,' Long hve the King!' — 'Long live the Constitution!' — but Lafayette, pla- 
 cing little dependenceon this burst of enthusiasm, fled with several ollicers of Ins staff 
 He was then declared an emigrant. On his arrival at the Austrian advanced posts 
 he was made prisoner. He was afterwards delivered up to the King of Prussia, 
 who caused him to be removed to Magdeburg, where he remained a year in a dun- 
 geon ; but when Prussia made peace with France, he was restored to the Aus- 
 trians, who sent him to Ohnutz. After a rigorous imprisonment of three years and 
 five months, he obtained his liberty at the request of Bonaparte. He then withdrew 
 to Hamburg, and after the 18th Brumaire, returned to France," — Blographie Mu- 
 dcnie. From this period Lafayette remained in comparative retirement till the 
 breaking out of the second Revolution in 1830, when he was again appointed com- 
 mander ofthe national guards, which, however, he resigned, shortly after the acces- 
 sion of Louis-Philippe to tiie throne. He died in the year 18-34, at the age of 7G. E. 
 * "Jean Sylvain Bailly was one ofthe forty of the Fiencn Academy, and deputy 
 uf Paris to the States-General. Born in Paris on the 15th of September, 173G, nature 
 had endowed him with all the talents which fit men for the study ofthe sciences, and 
 the meditations of philosophy. After several essays, which were \vell received by 
 the public, he published a history of astronomy. VVhen the Revolution broke out 
 in 1789, the electors of Paris chose him as secretary, and then as deputy of the ^icrs-i^fffi 
 to the States-General. He was president ofthis assembly in its first session. On the 
 iGth of July he was appointed Mayor of Paris. When, after the flight of the King, 
 VOL. I. — 15 
 
114 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 The royal family repaired to the palace of the Tuileries, which had 
 not been inhabited for a century, and where there had not been time 
 to make the necessary preparations. The guard of it was confided 
 to the Parisian militia, and Lafayette was tlius made responsible to 
 the nation for the person of the King, fur which all the parties were 
 contending. The nobles were desirous to carry liim to some fortress, 
 in order to exercise despotism in his name. The popular party, 
 which had not yet conceived the idea of dispensing with him, wished 
 to keep liim, to complete the constitution, and to withdraw a chief 
 from civil war. Hence the malignity of the privilpged classes called 
 Lafayette a gaoler ; and yet his vigilance proved only one thing— 
 the sincere desn-e to have a King.* 
 
 From this moment the march of the parties displayed itself in a 
 new manner. The aristocracy, separated from Louis XVL, and in- 
 capable of executing any enteri)rise by his side, dispersed itself abroad 
 and in the provinces. It was from this time that the emigration be- 
 gan to be considerable. A great number of nobles fled to Turin, to 
 the Count d'Artois, who had found an asylum with his father-in- 
 law.t Here their policy consisted in exciting the departments of 
 
 the parties were divided, and the more violent revohitionists wished to seize the 
 opportunity of pronouncing the forfeiture of Louis, Bailly opposed the ferments 
 excited in Paris in favor of the party of the forfeiture. An mimense crowd hav- 
 ing thronged to tiie Champ deMars to frame an address recommending the forfeiture, 
 on the 1.7th of July, 1791, Bailly caused martial law to be proclaimed against this 
 assembly, which was dispersed by armed force. The National Assembly approved 
 this step ; but, from this time, Bailly perceived that his credit was sinking. He 
 vacated the ofhce of mayor early in November, and then went over to England, 
 whence he returned shortly after to Paris, trusting to spend the rest of his days in 
 retirement. He was, however, arrested in 1793, and brought to trial in November 
 before the revolutionary tribunal, wliich condemned him to death. On the day 
 after the passing of his sentence, he was put into the fatal cart, and, while proceed 
 ing to execution, was loaded with the insults of the people. It was resolved thai 
 he should die on the Champ de Mars, in the very place where he had caused tlie 
 seditious people to be fired ois. Here he fell down in a fainting-fit. When he re- 
 covered, be demanded, haughtily, that an end might be put to his miseries. ' Dost 
 thou tremble, Bailly?' said one of his executioners, seeing his limbs, weakened by 
 age, quiver. ' Friend,' answered he, calmly, ' if I do tremble, it is with cold.' 
 After having been subjected to every species of ignominy, he ran himself to the 
 scalTold, which had been fixed upon a heap of dung. He died with great courage. 
 Bailly was tall, his face long and serious, and his character by no means devoid of 
 sensibility. There are several valuable works on astronomy by him. His widow 
 died in IbOO. — Biographic Modcrne. E. 
 
 * " The insurrection of the 5th and 6th of October was truly a popular move- 
 ment; we must not seek for any secret causes of it, or ascribe it to concealed am 
 bition ; it was provoked by the imprudence of the court. The banquet of the body 
 guard, the rumors of the flight, the fear of civil war, and the famine, alone carried 
 Paris on Versailles. If particular instigators, which the most interested in provmg 
 the fact have left doubtful, contributed to produce the commotion, they changed 
 neither its direction nor its object. This event destroyed the ancient regime of the 
 court; ittook away its guard; it transported it from the royal town to the capital of the 
 revolution, and placed it under the surveillance of the people." — Miffnct. E. 
 
 t " The day ol'the King's entrance into Paris was the first of the emigration of the 
 noblesse— a fatal example of defection, which, being speedily followed by the infe 
 rior nobility, produced the most disastrous consequences. But it was the same 
 m all the subsequent changes of the Revolution. The royalist leaders, always the 
 first to propose violent measures, were at the same time unable to support ihera 
 when opposed; they diminished the sympathy of the world at their fall from so 
 oigh a rank, by showing that they were unworthy of it." — Alison. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 115 
 
 the south, and in supposing that the King was not free. The Queen, 
 wlio was an Austrian, and moreover an enemy to the new court form- 
 ed at Turin, fixed her hopes on Austria. The King, amidst tlicse 
 macliinations, saw every thing, prevented nothing, and awaited his 
 salvation, come from what quarter it might. From time to time he 
 made the disavowals required by the Asse'mbly, and was not really 
 free, any more than he would have been at Turin or at Coblentz, or 
 than lie was under IMaurepas ; for it is the lot of weakness to be cxcvy 
 where dependent. 
 
 The popular party thenceforward triumphant, was divided amongtlie 
 Duke of Orleans, Lafayette, Mirabeau, Barnave, and the Lamcths * 
 The public voice charged the Duke of Orleans and Mirabeau with be- 
 ing the authors of the late insurrection. Witnesses who were not un- 
 worthy of credit, asserted that they had seen the duke and Mirabeau 
 on the deplorable field of battle of the Cth of October. These state- 
 ments were afterward contradicted ; at the moment, however, they 
 were believed. The conspirators had intended to remove the King, 
 and even to put him to death, said tlie boldest calumniators. The 
 Duke of Orleans, they added, had aspired to be lieutenant of the king- 
 dom, and Mirabeau minister. As none of these plans had succeeded, 
 Lafiyette appearing to have th\varted tliem by his presence, was 
 regarded as the saviour of the King, and the conqueror of tlie Duke 
 of Orleans and Mirabeau. The court, which had not yet had time 
 to become ungrateful, acknow/edged Lafayette to be its preserver, and 
 the po\ver of the general at this moment seemed immense. The 
 hotheaded patriots were incensed at it, and began already to mutter 
 the name of Cromwell. Mirabeau, wJio, as we shall presently see, 
 had no connexion with the Duke of Orleans, was jealous of Lafayette, 
 and called him Cromwell Grandison. Tlie aristocracy seconded tliese 
 distrusts, and added to them its own calumnies. Lafayette, however, 
 was determined, in spite of all obstacles, to uphold the King and the 
 constitution. Fortius purpose he resolved in the first place to remove 
 the Duke of Orleans, whose presence gave occasion to mariy reports, 
 and might furnish, if not the means, at least a pretext, for disturb- 
 ances, lie had an interview with the prince, intimidated him by his 
 firmness, and obliged him to withdraw. The King, wlio was in the 
 scheme, feigned, Avitli his usual weakness, to be forced into this mea- 
 sure ; and writing to tlie Duke of Orleans, he told Iiim that it was ab- 
 solutely necessary for him or M. de Lafayette to retire ; tliat, in the 
 state of opinions, the choice was not doubtful ; and that, in conse- 
 quence, he gave him a commission for England. We have since been 
 informed that M. dc Montmorin, minister for foreign affairs, in order 
 
 * "At this epoch, the extremes on the liberal side wereDnport, Barnave, and La- 
 meth.who formed a triumvirate, whose opinions were formed by Duport, snpported 
 by Barnave, and whose measures were directed by Alexandre Lameth. This party 
 placed itself at once in a position a little in advance of that in which the Revohition 
 had arrived. The 14th of July had been the triumph of the middle class; the constit 
 uent was its assembly ; the national fruard its armed force; the mayoralty its popula 
 power. Mirabeau, Lafayette, and Bailly, applied themselves to this class, and wero 
 the one its orator, tlie other its general, and the third its magistrate." — Mignci. E 
 
1 16 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 to rid liimself of the ambition of the Duke of Orleans, directed him 
 towards the Netherlands, then in rebellion against Austria, and that 
 he had held out hopes to him of acquiring the title of Duke of Bra- 
 bant.* His friends, when apprized of this resolution, were indignant 
 at his weakness. More ambitious than he, they would have persuaded 
 him not to comply. They went to Mirabeau, and entreated him to 
 denounce in the tribune the violence which Lafayette was committhig 
 against the prince. Mirabeau, already jealous of the general's popu- 
 larity, sent word to him and to the duke that he would denounce both 
 of tliem in the tribune if the departure for England should take place. 
 The Duke of Orleans was shaken : a fresh summons from Lafayette 
 decided him ; and Mirabeau, on receiving in the Assembly a note ac- 
 quainting him with the retreat of the prince, exclaimed in vexation : 
 " He is not worth the trouble that is taken about ]iim."t This expres- 
 sion and jnany others equally inconsiderate have caused him to be 
 frequently accused of being one of the agents of the Duke of Orleans ; 
 but this he never was. His straitened circumstances, the imprudence 
 of his language, iiis familiarity with the Duke of Orleans, though in- 
 deed he treated every body in the same manner, his proposal relative 
 to the Spanish succession, and lastly his opposition to the departure 
 of the duke, could not but excite suspicions ; it is nevertheless true 
 that Mirabeau had no party, nay, tliat he had no other aim but to des- 
 troy the aristocracy and arbitrary power. 
 
 The authors of these suppositions ougjit to have known that Mira- 
 beau was at this time under tlie necessity of borrowing the most tri- 
 flino- sums, which would not have been the case, if he had been tlie 
 agent of a prince immensely rioh, and who is beUeved to have been 
 almost ruined by his partisans. Mirabeau had already foreboded the 
 speedy dissolution of the state. A conversation witli an intimate 
 friend, which lasted a whole night, in the park of Versailles, caused 
 him to decide on adopting an entirely new plan ; and he determined 
 for his glory, for the welfare of the state, and lastly for his own fortune— 
 for Mirabeau was the man for attending to all these interests at once 
 — to stand immoveable between the disaffected and the throne, and to 
 consolidate the monarchy while making a place in it for himself. The 
 court had tried to gain him, but the affair had been clumsily mana- 
 
 * See Dumouriez's Memoirs. 
 
 t I have already shown that there wag scarcely any connexion whatever between 
 Miralieat; and tlie Duke of Orleans. Here follows a key to the signification of the 
 celebrated expression, Cej...f..... na latriu fas la peine qiCon se donne pnurlui. The 
 constraint exercised by Lafayette over the Duke of Orleans indisposed the popular 
 pnrty, and irritated above all the friends of the prince who was doomed to exile. 
 The latter conceived the idea of jetting loose Mirabeau against Lafayette, by ta 
 king advantage of the jealousy of the orator against the general. Lauzun, afriend of 
 the duke's went one evening to Mirabeau, to urge him to take tip the subject the very 
 next morning. Mirabeau, who often gave way to persuasion, was about to yield, 
 when his friends, more vigilant than himself over his own conduct, begged him nol 
 to stir. It was therefore resolved that he should not speak. Next morning, at the 
 ppening of the sitting, news arrived of the departure of the Duke of Orleans; and 
 Mirabeau, who owed him a grudge for his compliance to Lafayette, and bethought 
 him of the useless efforts of hia friends, exclaimed, Ce j... /...., ne m6rite pas la pdnt 
 mCon $e donne pour lui. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 117 
 
 ged, and without the delicacy requisite towards a man of great pride 
 and desirous of retaining his popularity, in defaidtof the esteem which 
 lie did not yet possess. ^lalouet, a friend of Necker, and connected 
 with iAlirabeau, wished to brinrj them into communication. Mira- 
 beau had frequently declined this,* being certain that lie could never 
 agree with the minister. He nevertheless assented. IMalouet intro- 
 duced him, and the incompatibility of the two characters was still 
 more strongly felt after this interview, in which, according to the ad- 
 mission of all present, Mirabeau displayed the superiority which he Iiad 
 in private life, as well as in the tribune. It was reported that he had 
 manifested a wish to be bouii;ht, and that, as Necker made no overture, 
 he said on going away : " The minister shall Jicar of mc.'''' This again 
 is an interpretatkon of the parties, but it is false. Malouet had pro- 
 posed to Mirabeau, who was known to be satisfied with the liberty ac- 
 quired, to come to an understanding with the minister, and nothing 
 more. Besides, it was at this very period that a direct negotiation was 
 opened with the court. A foreign prince, connected with men of all 
 parties, made the first overtures. A friend, who served as inter- 
 mediate agent, explained that no sacrifice of principles would be 
 obtained from Mirabeau ; but that, if the government would adhere to 
 the cf)nstitution, it would find in him a stanch supporter; that, as to 
 the conditions, they were dictated by his situation ; that it was requi 
 site, even for tlic interest of those who wished to employ him, thai 
 that situation should be rendered hojiourable and independent — in 
 other words, that his debts should be paid ; that, finally, it was neces- 
 sary to make him attached to the new social order, and without ac- 
 tually giving him the ministry, to hold out hopes of it at some future 
 time.t The negotiations were not entirely concluded till two or three 
 months afterwards, tliat is, in the first months of 1790, | Histo- 
 
 * I\Iessrs. Malouet aiidBertrand de RloIIeville have not liesitated to assert the con- 
 trary, but tlu3 fact liere advanced is attested by witnesses of the highest credibility. 
 
 t In Mirabeau, as in all superior men, much littleness was united with much s[reat- 
 iiess. lie iiad a lively imagination, which it was requisite to amuse with hopes, it was 
 impossible to pive him the ministry withoutdestroying his influence, and consequently 
 without ruining him, and nullifying the aid that might be derived from him. On the 
 other hand, he needed this bait ibrhis imagination. Those therefore ulio had placed 
 themselves between liim and the court, recoimnendcd that at least the hope of a port- 
 folio siiould be left him. However, the personal interests of JMirabeau were never 
 the sul)ject of particular mention in the various communications which took place; 
 nothing in fact was ever said about money or favours, and it was difficult to make 
 Mirabeau understand what the court wished to convey to him. For this purpose a 
 x'ery ingenious method was suggested to the King, ftlirabeau had so bad d reputa. 
 i\on that fevv persons would have been willing to serve as his colleagues. The King, 
 addressing IM. do Liancourt, for whom he had a particular friendship, asked him, if 
 in order to render liiin service, he would accept a portfolio in company with Mira 
 beau. RI. de Liancourt, devoted to the monarch, replied, that h» 'vas ready to du 
 whatever the good o( his service required. This question, which was soon reported 
 to the orator, filled him with satisfaction, and he no longer doubted that he should bo 
 appointed minister, as soon as circumstances permitted. 
 
 \ " Disgusted with the fickleness of the multitude, JMirabeau had long made secret 
 advanci's to the constitutional party, and entered into correspondence with the King, 
 ^or the purpose of restraining the further progress of the Revolution. He received 
 for a short time, a pension of 20,000 francs, or 600/. a month, first from the Coi.nl 
 d'Artois, and afterwards from the King: but it was not continued till the time of hij 
 sleatli, from finding that he was not so pliant as thecourt party expected,' Alison, fci. 
 
118 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 rians unacquainted with these particulars, and misled by the perseve- 
 rance of Mirabeau in opposing the government, have assigned alatei 
 period to this treaty. It was, however, neajly concluded at the com- 
 mencement of 1790. We shall notice it in its proper place. 
 
 The only way in which Barnave and the Lameths could rival 
 Mirabeau, was by a greater patriotic austerity. A pprized of the nego- 
 tiations which were in progress, they accredited the rumour already 
 circulated, that the ministry was about to be confierred on him, in order 
 that they might thus deprive him of the means of accepting it. An 
 occasion for thwarting his views soon occurred. The ministers had 
 no right to speak in the Assembly. Mirabeau was unwilling, when 
 appointed minister, to lose the right of speaking, which was the chief 
 instrument of his influence ; he wished moreover to bring Necker into 
 the tribune, that he might crush him there. He proposed therefore 
 to give a consultative voice to the ministers. The popular party, in 
 alarm, opposed the motion without any reasonable motive, and ap- 
 peared to have a dread of ministerial seductions. But its apprehen- 
 sions were absurd ; for it is not by their public communications with 
 the cliambers, that the ministers usually corrupt the national represen- 
 tation. Mirabeau's motion was negatived, and Lanjuinais, pushing 
 rigour still farther, proposed to forbid the existing deputies to ac- 
 cept the ministry. A violent debate ensued. Though the motive of 
 these propositions was known, it was not avowed ; aiid Mirabeau, 
 who was incapable of dissimulation, at length exclaimed that it would 
 be wrong, for the sake of a single individual, to take a measure per- 
 nicious to the state ; that he supported the motion, on condition tiiat 
 the ministry should be interdicted, not to all the present deputies, but 
 only to M. de Mirabeau, deputy of the seneschalship of Aix. His 
 frankness and boldness were of no avail, and the motion was unani- 
 mously adopted. 
 
 We have seen how the state was divided between the emigrants, 
 the Queen, the King, and different popular chiefs, such as Lafayette, 
 Mirabeau, Barnave, and Lameth. No decisive event, like that of the 
 14th of July or the 5th of October, was possible for a long time to 
 come. It was requisite tiiat fresh contrarieties should exasperate the 
 court and the people, and produce a signal rupture. 
 
 The Assembly had removed to Paris, after repeated assurances of 
 tranquillity on the part of the commune, and the promise of entire 
 hberty in the votes. Mounier and Lally-Tollendal, indignant at the 
 events of the 5th and Gtli of October, had resigned their seats, saying 
 that they would not be either spectators of, or accomplices in, the 
 crimes of the factious. They must have regretted this desertion of 
 the public welfare, especially when they saw Maury and Cazai^s, 
 after seceding from the Assembly, soon return to it, and courageously 
 support to the end the cause which they had espoused. Mounier, 
 retiring to Daupliine, assembled the states of the province, but a 
 decree soon caused them to be dissolved, without any resistance. 
 Thus Mounier and Lally, who, at tJie period of the junction of the 
 orders and of the oath, at the Tern^is Court, had been the heroes of 
 iLe people, were no longer held in any estimation by them. The 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION 113 
 
 parliaments had been first outstripped by the popular power; so had 
 Mounier, Laliy, and Necker, been after them ; and so many others 
 were very soon destined to be. 
 
 The dearth, tlie exa^^gerated but nevertheless real cause of the dis- 
 turbances, gave occasion also to a crime. A baker, named Franrois, 
 was murdered by some brig-ands. Lafayette succeeded in securing 
 the culprits, and delivered them to the Chatelet, which was invested 
 with an extraordinary jurisdiction over all oflences relative to the 
 Revolution. Here Besenval, and all those who were accused of 
 having a liand in the aristocratic conspiracy foiled on the 14t]i of 
 July, were under trial. The Cliatelet was authorized to try according 
 to new forms. Till tJie introduction of the trial by jury, which was 
 not yet instituted, the Assembly had ordered publicity, tlie contradic- 
 tory defence, and all the measures which operated as safeguards to 
 innocence. The murderers of Francois were condemned, and tran- 
 quillity was restored. Upon this occasion, Lafayette and Bailly propo- 
 sed the adoptionof martial law. The motion, though strongly opposed 
 by Robespierre, who thenceforward showed Iiimself a warm partisan of 
 the people and the poor, was nevertiieless approved by the majority. 
 By virtue of this law, the municipalities were responsible for the 
 public tranquillity ; in case of disturbance, they were directed to 
 require the aid of the regular troops or the militia ; and they were 
 enjoined, after three warnings, to employ force against seditious 
 assemblages. A committee of search was established in the com- 
 mune of Paris and in the National Assembly, to look after the nume- 
 rous enemies, whose machinations crossed each other in all directions. 
 All these measures were not more than sufficient to control the host 
 of adversaries leaii^ued aij^ainst the new revolution. 
 
 Tiie formation of the constitution was prosecuted with activity. 
 Tlie feudal system had been abolished, but there was still wanting a 
 last measure for destroying those great bodies which had been ene- 
 mies constituted in the state against the state. The clergy possessed 
 immense property. It had been conferred on them by princes as 
 feudal grants, or by the pious by way of legacy. If the property of 
 individuals, tlie fruit and object of their labour, ought to be respected, 
 that which had been given to bodies for a certain purpose might have 
 another destination assin;ned to it by the law. It was for the service of 
 religion, or at least upon this pretext, that it had been bestowed ; 
 religion being a public service, the law had a rigiit to provide for it in a 
 totally ditferent manner. The Abbe Maury iiere displayctl his imper- 
 turbable spirit: he gave the alarm to the landed proprietors, threatened 
 them with speedy spoliation, and declared that the ])ro\inces were 
 sacrificed to the stockjobbers of the capital. His sophistry was sin 
 gular enough to be recorded. It Avas to pay the public debt that the 
 property of the clergy was disposed of; the creditors were tlie great 
 capitalists of Paris ; the property which was sacrificed to them was in 
 the provinces ; hence the bold reasoner concluded that it was sacri 
 ficing the country to the capital ; as if the country were not on the con 
 trary a gainer by the new division of ihose immense estates hithertc 
 leserved for the luxury of a few indolent churchmen. 
 
 All these efforts were useless. The bishop of Autun, the authot 
 
i20 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 of the proposal, and Thouret, the deputy, demolished these vain 
 Bophisms.* The Assembly was proceeding to resolve that all the 
 possessions of the clergy belonged to the state ; the opposition, how- 
 ever, still insisted on the question of property. They were told 
 that if tliey were proprietors, the nation bad a right to make use of 
 their property, since this kind of property had frequently been em- 
 ployed in cases of emergency for the service of the state. This they 
 did not deny. Taking advantage of their assent, Mirabeau then 
 moved that, for the words belong to, should be substituted, are at the 
 disposal of, the state, and the discussion was instantly terminated by 
 a great majority. The Assembly thus destroyed the formidable power 
 of the clergy and the luxury of the high dignitaries of the order, 
 and secure(l those immense financial resources which so long upheld 
 the Revolution. At the same time, it provided for the subsistence of 
 the cures, by resolving that their salaries should not be less than twelve 
 hundred francs, adding, moreover, the use of a parsonage-house and 
 garden. It declared that it ceased to recognise religious vows, and 
 restored liberty to all the inmates of cloisters, leaving to those who 
 preferred it the right of continuing the monastic life. Their property 
 was withdrawn, and pensions were granted in its stead. Carrying 
 iis forecast still farther, it established a difference between the wealthy 
 orders and the mendicant orders, and proportioned the salary of both 
 to their former condition. It pursued the same course in regard to 
 pensions ; and when Camus, the Jansenist, desirous of returning to 
 the evangelical simplicity, proposed to reduce all pensions to one very 
 low standard, the Assembly, on the recommendation of Mirabeau, 
 reduced tliem proportionably to their actual value, and suitably to the 
 former state of the receivers. It was impossible to carry attention to 
 previous habits to a greater length, and in this consists the real respect 
 for property. In like manner, when the Protestants, expatriated ever 
 since the edict of Nantes, reclaimed their possessions, the Assembly 
 restored such only as had not been sold. 
 
 Prudent and delicate in regard to persons, the Assembly treated 
 things without ceremony, and was much bolder in matters relating to 
 the constitution. The prerogatives of the great powers had been 
 
 * " Talleyrand, Bishop of Autiui, proposed to the cler;2:y to renounce ITie property 
 of the ecclesiastical benefices in favour of the nation, whicli would employ it in the 
 HUpportofthe altars and the payment of its debt. He proved the justice and the 
 propriety of this measure; he showed the great advantages which would resultfrom 
 jt to the state. Tlie clergy struggled against this proposition, but it was carried on 
 the 2d of December. From that moment the hatred of th^d clergy to the Rovoliiiion 
 broke fortli. It had been less in .actable than the noblesse at the commeiftement o! 
 the States-General, in the hope of preserving its wealth; afterwards it showed itseU 
 not less opposed to the new regime'' — Migncl. E. 
 
 "M. de Talleyrand is tlie only l)isliop ever appointed by the choice, and at the re 
 quest of the clergy of France. He was thou Abbe de Perigord, and agent of the 
 clergy ; bu', contrary to the usual custom, especially in the case of a man of such high 
 birth, Louis XVI. had delayed appointing him. The general assembly of the clergy 
 expressly voted that a representation should be made to the King, in their name, ex- 
 pressive of their astonishment that the Abbe de Perigord was not made a bishop ; .md 
 It was in consequence of this indication that the King at last gave him the bishopiio 
 tf Aulun." — Mcmairs of Lafayette. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 123 
 
 fixed: rlic r|ucstion now was, the division of the territory of the king- 
 dom. It hud always been divided into provinces, successively united 
 with ancient France. Tliese provinces, differing from one another 
 in laws, privileges, and manners, formed a most heterogeneous whole. 
 iSieyes* conceived the idea of blending tliem together by a new divi- 
 sion, which should annihilate the ancient demarcations, and introduce 
 the same laws and the same spirit into all parts of the kingdom. This 
 was accomplislied by tlie division into departments. These were 
 divided into districts, and the districts into municipalities. In all these 
 degrees, the principle of representation was admitted. The depart- 
 mental administration, that of the district, and that of the communes, 
 were assigned to a deliberative council and to an executive council; 
 both were elective. These various authoi-ities depended tlie one on 
 the other, and they had the same powers, throughout their respective 
 jurisdictions. The department made the assessments of the taxes 
 upon the districts, the district upon the communes, and the commune 
 upon individuals. 
 
 The Assembly then fixed the quality of a citizen enjoying political 
 rights. It required the age of twenty-five years, and the payment of 
 contributions to tlie amount of one silver mark. Every man who 
 combined these conditions had the title of active citizen, and those 
 who did not, styled themselves passive citizens. These extremely 
 simple denominations were turned into ridicule ; for it is names 
 that people lay hold of wlicn they want to depreciate things ; but 
 they were natural, and aptly expressed their object. The active 
 citizen concurred in elections, either for the formation of the admi- 
 nistrations, or for that of the Assembly. The elections of the deputies 
 had t^vo degrees. No specilic condition was required to constitute 
 eligibility ; for, as it was observed in the Assembly, a man is an elec- 
 tor by his existence in society, and he must be eligible from the mere 
 conlidence of the electors. 
 
 These operations, interrupted by a thousand incidental discussions, 
 were nevertheless prosecuted witb great ardour. The right side (the 
 party of the nobility and clergy) oidy contributed by its obstinacy to 
 
 * " Sieyes was one oftliose men, who, in ages of enthusiasm, found a sect, and, in 
 an age oriiitt'lhgeuce, exercise theascendant ofa powerful underslanding. Solitude 
 and philosophic specukition liad ripened it I'ur a happy moment; his ideas were new, 
 vigorons, various, hut little systematic. Society had in particular been the object 
 ofhis e.vamiiKition ; lie had followed its progress and decomposed its machinery. 
 Tiic natnre of government appeared to liiin loss a question of right than a question 
 of epoch. Although cool and deliberate, Sieyes had the ardonr which inspires the 
 investigation of truth, and the fearlessness to insist on its promulgation; thus he was 
 absolute in his notions, despising the ideas of others because he found them incom- 
 plete, and only, in his eyes, only the half truth, which was error. Contradiction irri- 
 tated Ifnn ; he was little communicative; he would have wished to make himself 
 tlioroughly understood, but he could not succeed with all the world. His disciples 
 transmitted his systems to others — a circumstance which gave him a certain air of 
 niysteriousness, and rendered him the object of a sort of adoration. lie had tho 
 auth(MMty which complete political science bestows, and the constitntion could have 
 pprung i'roui his iiead, all armed like the lAIinerva of Jupiter, or the legislation of tho 
 ar.cients, if in our times every one had not wished to assist in it, or to judge of it. 
 Nevertheless, with some modifications, his plans were generally adopted, and he bad 
 m: the committees more disciples than fellow-labourers." — Mignct. E 
 VOL. I. 16. 
 
122 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 impede ihem, the moment opportunity oft'ered to ccntest any portior, 
 of influence with tlie nation. The popukir deputies, on tlie contrary 
 though forming several parties, acted in concert, or differed witlioii 
 animosity, agreeahly to their private opinions. It was easy to per- 
 ceive that among them conviction predominated over party consider- 
 ations. Thouret, Miraheau, Duport, Sieyes, Camus, Chapeher, were 
 seen alternately uniting and dividing, according to their opinion, in 
 eacii discussion. As for the members of the nobility and clergy, they 
 never appeared but in party discussions. If the parliaments had 
 issued decrees against the Assembly, if deputies or waiters had insulted 
 it, they then came forward, ready to support them. They supported 
 also the military commandants against the people, the slave-traders 
 against the negro slaves ; they were against the admission of Jews 
 and Protestants to the enjoyment of the common rights. Lastly, 
 when Genoa declared against France, on account of the enfranchise- 
 ment of Corsica, and tlie union of that island with the kingdom, they 
 were in favour of Genoa against France. In sliort, aliens, indifferent 
 to all beneficial discussions, not listening to them, but conversing 
 among themselves, they never rose but when there were rights or 
 liberty to be refused.* 
 
 * It will not be uninteresting to show tlie opinion of Ferrleres conceruing the 
 manner in which the deputies of his own party 1 ehaved in the Assembly. 
 
 " In the National Assembly," says Ferrieres, " there were not more than about three 
 hundred really upright men, exempt from party-cpirit, not belonging to any club, 
 wishing what was right, wishing it for its own &ake, ijidependent ofthe interest of or- 
 ders or of bodies, always ready to enibrare the most jnst and the most beneficial pro- 
 posal, no matter from what quarter it came, or by whom it was snpported. These 
 were the men worthy of the honourable function to which they had been called, who 
 made the few good laws that proceeded from the Constituent Assembly; it was they who 
 prevented all the mischief which was not done by it- Invariably adopting what was 
 good, as invariably opposing what was bad, they have frequently produced a ma- 
 jority in favour of resolutions which, but for them, would have been rejected from a 
 spirit of faction; and they have often defeated motions which, but for them, would 
 have been adopted from a spirit of interest. 
 
 •' While on this subject, 1 cannot abstain from remarking on theimpolitic conduct 
 ofthe nobles and the bishops. As they aimed only to dissolve the Assembly, to 
 throw discredit on its operations, instead of opposing mischievous measures, they 
 manifested an indifTorence on this point which is inconceivable. When the presi- 
 dent stated the question they quitted the hall, inviting the deputies of their party to 
 follow them ; or, if they stayed, they called out to them to take no part in the delibe- 
 ration. The Clubbists, forming through this dereliction of duty a majority of the 
 Assembly, carried every resolution they pleased. The bishops and the nobles, firmly 
 believing that the new order of things would not last, hastened, with a sort of impa 
 tience, as if determined to accelerate the downfall, both the ruij) of the monarchy and 
 their own ruin. With this senseless conduct they combined au insulting disdain 
 both ofthe Assembly and ofthe people who attended the sittings. Instead of listen- 
 mg, they laughed and talked aloud, thus confirming the people in tlie unfavourable 
 opinion which it had conceived of them ; and, instead of striving to recover its con- 
 fidervce and its esteem, tbey strove only to gain its hatred and its contempt. All 
 these follies arose solely from the mistaken notion ofthe bishops and the nobles, who 
 could not persuade themselves that the Revolution had long been efi'ected in the 
 opinion and in the heart of every Frenchman. They hoped, by means of these 
 dykes, to set bounds to a torrent which was daily swelling. All they did served only 
 to produci a greater accumulation of its waters, to occasion greater ravages; obsti' 
 nately clinging to the old system, the basis of all their actions, of all their opposition, 
 but which was repudiated by all. By this impolitic obstimcy they forced the Revo 
 utionista * extend the Kevolulic n beyond the goal which they had set up for them 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTIOIS 123 
 
 As we have already observed, it was no longer possible to attenipt 
 any great conspiiacy in favonr of the King, since tlie aristocracy was 
 put to flight, and the court was encompassed by the Assenil)]y, the 
 people, and the national militia. Partial movements were, thciefore, 
 all tiiat the malcontents could attempt. They fomented the discon- 
 tent of tlie olTicers who adiiercd to the former order of things; while 
 the soldiers, having every tiling to gain, inclined to tlie new. Violent 
 quarrels took place between the army and the populace : the soldiers 
 frequently gave their oflicers to the mob, wlio murdered them ; at other 
 times, these mutual jealousies were happily ap]>ca?ed, and all again 
 became quiet, when the connnandants of towns could conduct them- 
 selves with any address, and had taken the oath of fidelity to the new 
 constitution. I'he clergy had inundated Britanny Avilh jirotestationa 
 against the alienation of its property. Attempts were made to excite 
 a remnant of religious fanaticism in the provinces, where the ancient 
 superstition still prevailed. The ])arliaments were also employed, 
 and a last trial Avas made of their authority. Their vacation had beeu 
 prorogued by the vVssembly, because it did not wish to have any discus- 
 sion with them during the interval that sliotdd elapse before it could 
 dissolve them. The chambers of vacation administered justice in 
 their absence. At liouen, at Nantes, at Rennes, they passed resolu- 
 tions, in which they deplored the ruin of the ancient monarchy and 
 the violation of its laws ; and, without mentioning the Assembly, they 
 seemed to point to it as the cause of all the prevailing evils. They 
 were called to the bar, and delicately reprimanded. That of Rennes, 
 as the most culpal)le, was declared ijicaj)able of fulfilling its functions. 
 That of Metz had insinuated that the King was not free. Such, as 
 we have already ohserved, was the policy of the discontented : as 
 they could not make use of the King, they sought to represent iiim 
 as in a state of restraint, and for this reason they were desirous of 
 annulling all tlie hiAvs to which he appeared to assent. He seemed 
 himself to second this policy. He would not recal his life-guards, 
 who were dismissed on the 5tli and Cth of October, and caused the 
 duty about his ))erson to be performed by the national militia, among 
 whom he knew that he was safe. His intention was to appear to be 
 a captive. The commune of Paris foiled this too petty artifice, by 
 soliciting the King to recal his guards, which he refnsed to do upon 
 frivolous pretexts, and through the medium of the Queen.* 
 
 selves. The nobles nnd the bishops then exclaimed against injustice, tyranny. They 
 talked of the antiquity and the legitimacy of their rights to men who had sapped the 
 foundation of all rights." — Fcrriercs, tome ii., p. r22. 
 
 * The question of the recal of the Kius;'s guards furnished occasion for an anec- 
 dote which deserves to be recorded. Tlie Queen complained to I\I. de Lafayette 
 that the King was not free, and in proof of th.::^, she alleged that the duty of tiie 
 palace was done by the )iational guard and not by the life-gnards. M. de Lafayetio 
 nnmediately asked her if slie should be gratified by the recal of the latter. The 
 Queen at first hesitated to answer; but she durst not refuse the ofler made by the 
 general to bring about '.lieir recall. He instantly repaired to the municipality, which, 
 at his instigation, presented a formal petition to the King to recal his life-gnaids, 
 otrering to share with them the duly of the palace. The King and Queen were not 
 displeased with this solicitation ; but they were soon rendered sensible of its conso* 
 queuces, and those who were desirous that they should not appear to be free, induced 
 
124 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 The year 1790 had just commenced, and a general agitation began 
 to be perceptible. Three tolerably quiet months had passed since 
 the 5tli and 6th of October, and the commotiou seemed to be break- 
 ing out anew. Violent storms are always followed by calms, and 
 these calms by petty gusts, which gradually become more and more 
 vehement. These disturbances were laid to the charge of the clergy, 
 the nobility, the court, and even of England, v/ho directed her ambas- 
 sador to justify her conduct. The paid companies of the national 
 guard were themselves infected with this general discontent. Some 
 soldiers assembled in the Champ Elysees, and demanded an increase 
 of pay. Lafayette, present every where, hastened to the spot, dis- 
 persed and punished them, and restored quiet among his troops, 
 who were still faithful, notwithstanding these slight interruptions ol 
 discipline. 
 
 There Avere great rumours of a plot against the Assembly and the 
 municipahty, the supposed ringleader of which was the Marquis de 
 Favras.* He was apprehended, with circumstances of public noto- 
 riety, and sent to the Chatelet. It was immediately reported that 
 Bailly and Lafayette were to have been assassinated ; that twelve 
 
 them to refuse their compliance. It was, nevertheless, embarrassing to assign a 
 motive for their refusal; and the Queen, to whom difficult commissions were fre- 
 quently allotted, was directed to tell M. de Lafayette that the proposal of the munici- 
 pality was not acceded to. The motive which she alleged was, that the King would 
 not expose liie life-guards to the risk of being murdered. M. de Lafayette had just 
 inet one of them walking in uniform in the Palais Royal. He mentioned this fact to 
 the Queen, who was still more embarrassed, but persisted in the determination which 
 she was charged to express. 
 
 * " The Marquis de Favras, formerly lieutenant of Monsieur's Swiss guards, was 
 nondGmned by the Chatelet of Paris, on the 18th of February, 1790, for having en- 
 deavoured to excite a counter-revolutionary project, and for having intended to at- 
 tempt the life of Lafayette, Bailly, and Necker, and to carry oif the King and the 
 roy.il family. He was born at Blois; devoted himself from his earliest youth to the 
 service, and went into the musketeers in 1755. In 17G1 he obtained a company of 
 dragoons in the regiment of Belsunce ; and served wiih distinction iu the campaigns 
 of 1702 and 17G3, after which he was appointed adjutant. la 1772 he acquired the 
 office of first lieutenant of IMonsieur's Swiss, which conferred the rank ot' colonel. 
 In 173G he went to Vienna to get his wife legitimatized, as only daughter of thft 
 Prince of Anhalt-Schaumberg. In ]787 he commanded a legion in Holland, at the 
 time of the insurrection against the Stadtholder. In 171)0 he was accused of having 
 plotted, at Paris, against the Revolution; of having wanted to introduce armed men 
 mto Paris by night, in order to destroy the three principal heads of the administration; 
 of attacking the King's guard; of taking away the seals of the state; and even of car- 
 rying olTtlie King and his family to Vcronne, He was summoned before the Cha- 
 telet, and repelled all the accusations brought against him; but his denials did not 
 prevent the judges from condemning liim. The announcement of his sentence did 
 not shake his fortitude ; lie dictated his will with calmness, and paid great attention 
 to the style of it. Favras was executed on the 11th of February, 1790. On mount- 
 ing the scaffold lie desired to be hoard, and, addressing himself to the people, said, 
 ' Citizens, I am about to appear before God; I cannot be suspected of lying at thia 
 dreadful niouumt; well, then, I swear to you before Heaveu, that I am not guilty. 
 Do your office,' added he, addressing the executioner. The people showed the great- 
 est fury against tliis victim, who was sacrificed to the policy of the moment. During 
 the trial, groups of furious persons made the environs of the Chatelet echo with cries 
 of Favras to the lamp-post!' Monsieur was so talked of among the populace as the 
 principal person in this affair, that he thought proper to go the town-hall and publicly 
 disavow the plots ascribed to him. The .Assembly seemed persuaded of the truth of 
 (heoe denials." — Bioirraphie Moa'irne. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTIOIV. X25 
 
 hundred horse were ready at Versailles to carry off the King ; that 
 mi army, composed of Swiss and Piedmontese, was to receive him, 
 and to march to Paris. The alarm spread. It was added that 
 Fuvras was the secret agent of the liighest personages. Suspicion 
 was directed to Monsieur, the King's brother. Favras had been in 
 his guards, and moreover had negotiated a loan in his behalf. Mon- 
 sieur, alarmed at the agitation wliicU prevailed, repaired to the Hutel 
 de Ville, protested against the insinuations thrown out against him, 
 explained his connexion with Favras, appealed to his popular senti- 
 ments formerly manifested in the Assembly of the Notables, and 
 desired tiiat he might be judged, not from public rumours, but from 
 his known and unswerving patriotism.* His speech was received 
 with shouts of applause, and the crowd escorted him back to his 
 residence. 
 
 The trial of Favras was continued. This Favras had run all over 
 Europe, married a foreign princess, and been devising plans for 
 retrieving liis fortunes. He had been enjfaared in them on the 14th 
 of July, on the 5tli and Cth October, and in the last months of 1789. 
 The witnesses who accused him furnished precise particulars of his 
 last scheme. The murder of Bailly and Lafayette, and the abduction 
 of the King, appeared to form part of this scheme ; but there v/as no 
 proof that the twelve hundred horse were in readiness, or that the 
 Swiss and Piedmontese army was in motion. Circumstances were far 
 from favourable to Favras. The Chatelct had just liberated Besenva. 
 and the other persons implicated in the plot of the 14th of Jidy : 
 public opinion was dissatisfied. Lafayette nevertheless encouraged 
 the gentlemen of tlic Chatelet, exhorted them to be just, and assured 
 them that their sentence, be it what it might, should be executed. 
 
 This trial revived the suspicions against the court. These new 
 schemes caused it to be deemed incorrigible ; for, even in the midst ot 
 Paris, it was still seen conspiring. The King was therefore advised 
 to take a decisive step, which should satisfy public opinion. 
 
 On the 4th of February, 1790, the Assembly was surprised to per- 
 ceive some alterations in the arrangement of the hall. The steps of 
 the bureau were covered with a carpet sprinkled with the fleurs-de-lis. 
 The arm-chair of the Secretaries was lowered; the president was 
 
 • The speech of fllonsieur at the Hotel de Ville contains a passage too importanl 
 not to be quoted here. 
 
 " As to my private opinions,'' said this august personage, " I shall speak of them 
 with confidence to my ieilow-citizens. Ever since the day that, in the second As- 
 soml)Iy of Notables, 1 declared my sentiments respecting the fundamental question 
 which divided people's minds, I have not ceased to believe that a great revolution \v;is 
 at hand : tiiat the King, by his intentions, his virtues, and his supreme rank, ought to 
 be the head of it, since it could not be beneficial to the nation without being equally 
 so to the monarch ; in short, that the royal authority ought to be the rampart of the na 
 tional liberty, and the national liberty the basis of the royal authority. I challenge 
 you to produce a single one of my actions, a single one of my expressions, which 
 has contradicted these principles, which has shown that, in whatcircumstances soever 
 I have been placed, the happiness of the King and that of the people have cea^ea to 
 be the sole object of my thoughts and my views. I have tlierefore a right to be be 
 lieved on my word. I never have changed my sentiments and principles md I 
 xiever will change them.'' 
 
126 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Standing beside the seat which he usually occupied. " Here is the 
 King !" suddenly exclaimed the door-keepers ; and Louis XVI, m- 
 stanlly entered the hall. The Assembly rose at his appearance, and 
 ne was received with applause. A concourse of spectators, quickly 
 collected, filled the tribunes, thronged all parts of the hall, and awaited 
 the royal speech with the utmost impatience. Louis XVI., standing, 
 addressed the seated Assembly : he began b_y referring to the troubles 
 to whicli France liad fallen a prey, the efforts which he had made 
 to allay them, and to supply the wants of the people ; he reca- 
 pitulated the proceedings of the representatives, observing that lie 
 had attempted the same things in the provincial assemblies ; lastly, 
 he showed that he had himself formerly the very same wishes whicli 
 had just been realized. He added, that he deemed it his duty to unite 
 iuore particularly with the representatives of the nation at a moment 
 when decrees destined to establish a new organization in the kingdom 
 iiad been submitted to hira. He would promote, he said, with all his 
 power, the success of that vast organization ; every attempt hostile to 
 it should be held culpable, and opposed with all his means. At tliese 
 words, the hall rang with plaudits. The King continued ; and, re- 
 ferring to his own sacrifices, he exhorted all those who had been losers 
 to take example from his resignation, and to indemnify themselves for 
 their losses by the blessings whicli the new constitution promised to 
 France. But when, after vowing to defend that constitution, he added, 
 that he would do so still more, and that, in concert with the Queen, he 
 would early predispose the mind and heart of his son in favour of the 
 new order of tilings, and accustom him to seek happiness in the hap- 
 piness of the French, cries of attachment burst forth from all quar- 
 ters — all hands were outstretched towards the monarch, all eyes looked 
 for the mother and her son, all voices asked for them : the transport was 
 universal. At length the King concluded his speech, by recommend- 
 ing peace and concord to his good people^ hy whom he is assured that 
 he is loved xchen those around him loish to cheer him up under his trou- 
 bles* At these last words all present burst forth into exclamations of 
 
 * The speech of the King on this occasion is too remarkable not to be quoted, 
 with some remarks. That excellent and too unfortiinate prince was in a continual 
 hesitation, and^ at certain time9, he perceived very clearly his own duties and the 
 faiihsof the court. The tone which pervades the speech delivered by him on tiie4th 
 of February proves sufficiently that in this instance his words were not prompted, 
 and that he expressed himself with a due sense of his actual situation. 
 
 " Gentlemen, the critical circumstances in which France is placed, bring me among 
 you. The pro^^ressive relaxation of all the bonds of order and subordination, thesus- 
 pensinnorihe inactivity of justice, the discontents arising from individual privations, 
 the unfortunate oppositions and animosities which are the inevitable consequences of 
 long dissensions, the critical state of the finances, and the uncertainty respecting the 
 piililic fortune; in short, the general agitation of minds, all seem to concur in exciting 
 uneasiness in the true friends to the prosperity and happiness of the kingdom. 
 
 " A grand goal is presented to your view, but it is requisite that it be attained 
 wittioiit any increase of agitation and without new convulsions. It was, I mustsay, 
 ni a more agreeable and a more quiet manner that I hoped to lead you to it when I 
 forjied the design of assembling you, and of bringing together for the public wel- 
 fare the talents and the opinions of the representatives of the nation ; but my happi 
 ne.sa di\d my glory are not the less closely connected with the success of your labours. 
 
 " I have protected them by incessant vigilance from the baneful influence which the 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. Vi7 
 
 gratitude. Tlie president made a short reply, in which he adverted 
 to the disturbed feehiii^s which prevailed hi all hearts. The prince 
 was conducted back to tlie Tuilleries by the multitude. The Assem- 
 bly voted thanks to him and to the Queen. A new idea was started ; 
 
 disastrous circum.^itancos amidst which you are placed might have upon you. The 
 disorder which the former state of the finances, tiie discredit, the extreme scarcity of 
 specie, and the gradual decrease of the revenue, nuist naturally produce: this disor- 
 der, at least in its vehemence and its excesses?;, has hitherto been prevented. I have 
 every where mitigated, and particularly in the capital, the dangerous consequences 
 of the want of employment, and, notwithstanding the decay of the means of autho- 
 rity, I iiave maintained the kingdom, not in the quiet which I could have wished — 
 very fur from it — but in a state of tranquillity sullicient to receive the blessing of a 
 wise and well-regulated liberty. Lastly, notwithstanding our generally known situa- 
 tion at iiome, and notwithstanding the political storms which are agitating other na- 
 tions, I have preserved peace abroad, and kept up with all the powers of Europe the 
 relations of good-will aud amity, which are capable of rendering that peace more 
 durable. 
 
 " Aftf r having thus preserved you from great calamities, which might so easily 
 have thwarted j'our efforts and your labours, I think the time is come when it is of 
 importance to (he interests of the state that I should associate myself, in a more ex- 
 pre-^s Lind manifest manner, in the execution and success of all that you have planned 
 lor the benefit of France. I cannot seize a more signal occasion tlian that when you 
 submit to my acceptance decrees destined to establish anew organization in the king- 
 dom, wiiich must have so important and so propiiious an influence on the happiness 
 of my suii|''cts, and on the prosperity of tliis empire. 
 
 " i oil know, gentlemen, it is more iban ten years ago that, at a time when the 
 wislii;.< of til',' nation rel.itive to provincial a'^'^emlilies liad not yet been expressed, I 
 b'''.iii to ><ub-;titute tliat kind of administration Cor the one, which anciunt and lonij 
 habit Irid sanctioned. JvvpiM-icnce having taught me that I have not erred in the 
 o[iiiiit)n wliich I had formed of the utility of these establishments, I strove to extend 
 tlie same beiielit to all the provinces of my kingdom; and, in order to insure gen- 
 eril roiifuletice to the new administration-!, I deti'ruiined that the members who were 
 to compose themshouKl be freely elected by all the citizens. You have improved 
 upon tlie-^e views in several ways; and the most essential, no doubt, is that equal 
 and wis-ly-calculated subdivision, which, by breaking down the ancient partitions 
 between province and province, and establishing a general and complete system of 
 equilibrium, more intimately unites all the parts of the kingdom in one and the 
 same spirit, and one and the same interest. 'J'his grand idea, this salutary design, 
 are entirely your own. it required nothing less than a union of opinions on the part 
 of the representatives of the nation; it required nothing less than their just ascen- 
 dency over the general sentiments, to undertake with confidence a change of such 
 va<t iiiqiortance, and to vanquish in the name of reason the opposition of habit and 
 of private interests." 
 
 All that the King here says is perfectly just and sincere. It is true that he liad 
 formerly attempted all the improvements of his own accord, and that he had set a rare 
 example among princes — that of anticipating the wants of their subjects. The com- 
 mendations which he bestows on the new territorial division bear also the character 
 of entire sincerity, for it was certainly beneficial to the government, by destroying the 
 opposition which particular localities had frequently made to it. Every thing induces 
 us therefore to believe that the King here speaks with perfect sincerity. He proceeds: 
 
 " 1 will promote, I will second, by all the means in my power, the success of that 
 vast organization, on which depends the welfare of France ; and I think it necessary 
 to observe, that I am too attentive to the internal condition of the kingdom, my eyes 
 arc too open to the dangers of all kinds by wliich we are encompassed, not to be 
 deeply sensible that, in the present disposition of minds, and considering the actual 
 state of public affairs, it is requisite that a new order of things should be established 
 quietly and peaceably, or the kingdom may be exposed to all the calamities of 
 anarchy. 
 
 " Let well-disposed citizens reflect on this, as I have done, fixing their attention ei 
 chisively on the welfare of the state, and they will perceive, even in spite of Uie_ in 
 fercnco of opinion, that a paramount interest must this day unite them all. Timfl 
 
128 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Louis XVI. had engag'ed to uphold the constitution ; it was fitting that 
 the deputies should bind themselves to do the same. The civic oath 
 was therefore proposed, and every deputy came forward to swear to be 
 faithful to the nation, to the law, and to the King ; and to uphold with 
 
 will remedy whnt may yet remain defective in the collection of the laws which shall 
 have been the work of ihis Assembly." 
 
 This indirect and delicate censure proves that the King had no intention to flatter, 
 but to speak the trutli, observing at the same time the necessary measure. 
 
 " But every enterprise th;it should tend to shake the principles of the constitution 
 itself, all concert that should aim at overthrowing them or diminishing their beneficial 
 influence, would serve only to introduce among us the frightful evils of discord; 
 and, supposing such an attempt against my people and myself to be successful, the 
 result would deprive us of the various blessings of which a new order of things 
 holds out a prospect to us, without supj)lying any substitute. 
 
 "Let us then confidently indulge the liopes which we are justified in conceiving, 
 and let us think of realizing them only by unanimity. Let it be known every where 
 that the monarch and the representativesof the nation are united in the same interest 
 and in the same wish; in order that this opinion, this firm belief, may ditYuse flirough 
 the provinces a spirit of peace and good will, and that all citizens distinguished for 
 their honesty, all those who are capable of rendering the state essential service by 
 their zeal and their talents, may be solicitous to take jjart in the different subdivisions 
 oflhe general administration, the unanimity of which must efllcaciously concur in the 
 re-establishment of order, and in the p/osperity of the kingdom. 
 
 " AVe must not disguise it from ourseives ; there is much to be done to reach that 
 goal. A persevering determination, a general and common elTort, are absolutely ne- 
 cessary to obtain real success. Continue your labours, then, without any other pas- 
 sion than that of doing good; keep your chief attention constantly fixed on the con- 
 dition of tl)e people, and on the public liberty; but direct it also to the means of 
 Eoothing, of tranquillizing, all jealousies, and put an end as speedily as possible to tho 
 diflerent alarms which keep so many ofher citizens aloof from Fi-ance, and theelTect 
 of which is in such contrast with the laws of safety and liberty that you are desirous 
 of establishing: prosperity will not return without the general consent. We perceive, 
 on every side hopes; be uiipatient to see also on every side happiness. 
 
 " Some day, I fondly believe, e^ery Frenchman without exception will acknovv 
 ledge the benefit of the total suppression of the ditferences of order and condifion; 
 when tliey have to labour in counnon for the public welfare, for the prosperity of 
 the country which equally interests all the citizens; and every one must see witliout 
 difficulty that, in order to be called henceforward to serve the state in any maimer, 
 it will be sufficient for a man to have rendered himself remarkable by his taleiitd 
 and by his virtues. 
 
 " At the same time, however, all that reminds a nation of the antiquity and the 
 continuity of the services of an honoured race is a distinction that nothing can de- 
 stroy; and, as it is united with the duties of gratitude, those who in all classes of so- 
 ciety aspire to serve their country efficaciously, and those who have already had 
 the happiness to do so, have an interest in respecting this transmission of titles or of 
 recollections, the fairest of all the inheritances that can be bequeathed to one's 
 children. 
 
 " Neither must the respect due to the ministers of religion be allowed to be swept 
 away; and when their consideration shall be principally united to the sacred truths 
 which arc under the safeguard of order and morality, all honest and enlightened 
 citizens will have an equal interest in uj)holding and defending it. 
 
 " No duubt those rcho have relinquished their pecuniary privileges, those icho will no 
 longer form, as of old, an order in the stale, find themselves subjected to sacrifices, the im- 
 portance of which J fully appreciate; but I am persuaded that they will have generosity 
 enough to seek an indemnification in all the public advantages of ichich the establishment 
 of national assemblies holds out ahopc.^^ 
 
 Tlie King continues, as the reader perceives, to impress upon all parties the advan 
 lages of tlie new laws, and at the same time the necessity of retaining something of 
 the ancient. What he says to the privileged classes proves his real opinion respect 
 ;ng the necessity and justice of the sacrificos that had been required of ihein, and 
 tlniir resistance will be everlastingly condemned by tho words contamed in this 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 129 
 
 all Ills power the constitution decreed by the National Assembly^ and 
 accepted by the King. The supplemeutaiy members, tlie deputies of 
 commerce, desired to take the outli in their tiini ; the tribunes and tlie 
 galleries followed their example, and on all sides nothing was to be 
 heard but the words, I swear it. 
 
 speech. Itvvoiilil be vain to urye that the King was not free: the care wliich he here 
 tikes to balance tlie concessions, counsels, and even reproaches, proves that he spoke 
 sincerely. He expressed liimself very differently when, sonic time afterwards, he 
 wished to give notoriety to the state of restraint in wliicli he conceived himself to be. 
 His letter to the ambassadors;, quoted hereafter, will sullicientiy prove this. The 
 ihoiOLighly popular cxa;;geration udiich pervades it demonstrates the intention to 
 appear to be no longer (ice. But tlie moderation of what he says here leaves no 
 room for doubt, and wdiat follows iyso touching, .so delicate, that it is impossible not 
 to have been felt by him, who had made up liis mind to write and to deliver it. 
 
 " I too should have losses to enumerate, if, amidst the most important interests of 
 the Htate, I could dwell upon personal calculations; but I find a compensation, tliat 
 ealisfies me, a full and entire compen-ation, in the increase of the national happiness; 
 and this sentiment comes from the very bottom of my heart. 
 
 " I will defend, therefore, I will uphold, constitutional liberty, the principles of 
 which the public wl~h, in accordance with mine, lias .sanctioned. JiciU do more; and 
 i'\. concert lodli the queen, who shares all mij scnfimcnts, J icdl tarlij iid/i/d the '.nind and 
 heart of anj son to the nno order of thiw^s lohleh circumstances have broiii^ltt about. J 
 ijjiU accustom hivn, from ids verij first tjrars. to seek happiness in the happiness of the 
 French, and ever to acknowledge that, in spite of the language of llatlerers, a wise 
 coii-4itiitioii will preserve him from the daii:,rers of inexperience, ami that a just liberty 
 adds a new value to the sentiments of all'L-ction and loyalty, of which the nation has 
 for so many ages given sucli tonrhing |)roofs to its kings. 
 
 " I dare not doiiitt that, ni coinpletin:,^ your work, you will provide with wisdom 
 and candour for the firm establishment of the executive power, that condition without 
 which there cannot exist any durable order at home, or any consideration abroad. No 
 distrust can reasonably be left you: it is therefore your duty, as citizens and as faith- 
 ful representatives of the nation, to ensure to the wellare of the state, and to the 
 public liberty, that stability which can proceed only from an active and tutolary 
 authority. You will surely bear in mind that, witliout such an aiithonty, all the 
 parts of your constitution will nunain at once without bond and without correspond- 
 ence : and, ill turning your attention to liberty, which yon love, and which 1 love 
 also, you will not lose sight of this tnitli, tiiat disorder in administration, by produ- 
 cing a confusion of powers, freipiently degenerates, through blind violence, into the 
 most dangerous and the most alarming of all tyrannies. 
 
 " Thus, not for my sake, gentlemen, who weigh not what is personal to myself 
 afrainst the l.iwsand institutions which are to regulate the destiny ol'the empire, but 
 for the very happiness of our country, for its prosperity, for its power, I exhort you 
 to rid yourselves of all the impressions of the moment, which could divert you from 
 considering in its totality what siicli a kingdom as France requires, both on account 
 of its great extent, its immense population, and its inevitable relations with foreign 
 countries. 
 
 " Neither will you neglect to turn your attention to what is required of legislators 
 by the manners, the character, and the habits, of a natioii that lias become too famous 
 ni Europe, from the nature of its understanding and genius, for it to appear matter of 
 indilVerence whetlier you uphold or u'lderiiiine in it those sentiments of kindness 
 confidence, and generosity, whicli have gameo It so much renown. 
 
 " Set it also an example of that spirit of justice wdiich serves as a sai"cguard to pro- 
 perty, to that right respected by all nations, wdiich is not tiie work of chance, which 
 springs not from the privileges of opinion, but which is closely connected with tlie 
 most essential relations of public order, and with the first conditions of social har- 
 mony. 
 
 "liy what fatality is it that, when tranquillity began to be restored, fresh distur 
 
 bancc.-i have spread over the provinces ? By what fatality is it that fresh outrages are 
 
 there perpetrated/ Join with me in putting a stop to tiiem, and let us exert all cur 
 
 florts to prevent criminal excesses from sullying these days in which tlie felicity of 
 
 the nation is preparing. You who possess so many means of influencing public 
 
 VOL. I. — 17 
 
130 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 The oath was repeated at the Hotel cle Ville, and by commune aftei 
 commune throughout France. Rejoicings ere ordered, whicli ap 
 peared to be general and sincere. This was certainly a fair occasion 
 for the court to commence a new line of conduct, instead of frustrating 
 this, as all previous advances towards a reconciliation on the part of 
 the people ; but, the very same evening, while Paris was in a blaze 
 with bonfires kindled to celebrate the happy event, the court had be- 
 taken itself again to its ill-humour, and the popular deputies experi- 
 enced from it a reception wliolly different from that which was reserv- 
 ed for tiie noble deputies. In vain did Lafayette, whose advice was 
 replete with good sense and zeal, repeat to the court, that the King 
 could no longer waver, and that he ought to attach himself altogether 
 to the popular party, and strive to win its confidence; that fortius 
 purpose it was requisite that his intentions should not only be pro- 
 claimed to the Assembly, but that they should be manifested by his 
 minutest actions ; that he ought to show displeasure at every expres- 
 sion in the least degree equivocal, used in his presence, and reprove the 
 slightest doubt thrown out as to his real sentiments ; that he ought to 
 show neither restraint nor dissatisfaction, nor to leave any secret hope 
 to the aristocrats ; and lastly, that the ministers ought to be united, 
 instead of entering into rivalship with the Assembly, and obliging it to 
 have recourse incessantly to the public opinion. In vain did Lafay- 
 ette repeat these prudent counsels with respectful earnestness: the 
 Kins' received his letters and tliou^ht him an lionest man ; the Queen 
 repulsed them with petulance, and even seemed to be irritated by the 
 respect paid by the general. She gave a much better reception to Mi- 
 confidence, enlighten, in regard to its true interests, that people which pains are taken to 
 mislead; that good people icltich is so dear to vie, and by which I am assured that I am 
 loved ichen those around me wish to cheer mc up under my troubles. Ah ! if it but knew 
 how unhappy I feci at the news of an attack upon property, or an act of violence 
 against person=i, perhapsit would spare nietliis severe inlliction. 
 
 " I cannot address you on the great interests of the state without urging you to 
 bestow your attention, in a serious and definitive manner, on all that relates to the 
 re-establishment of order in the finances, and to the tranquillity of the innumerable 
 multitude of citizens who are connected by some tie with the public fortune. 
 
 " It is time to allay all apprehensions; it is time to confer on this kingdom the 
 strength of credit which it has a right to claim. You cannot undertake every thing 
 at once ; accordingly, I invite you to reserve for other times part of the benefits 
 Avhich the assemblage of your talents pictures to your view; but when you shall have 
 added to what you have already accomphshed a wise and rational plan for the exer- 
 cise of justice; when you shall have firmly laid the foundations of a perfect equili- 
 brium between the revenue and the expenditure of the state; lastly, when you 
 shall have completed the work of the constitution, you will have acquired strong 
 claims to public gratitude; and, in thesuccessive continuation of the national as- 
 eemblies, a continuation founded henceforward on that very constitution, there 
 will be nothing more to do than to add, from year to yoar, new means of prosperity. 
 May this day, on which your Sovereign comes to unite with you in the most frank 
 and cordial manner, be a memorable epoch in the history of this empire ! It will be 
 so, I hope, if my ardent wishes, if my earnest exhortations can be a signal of peace 
 and of reconciliation between you. Let those tcho icould still keep aloof from a spirit 
 of concord that is become so necessary, make a sacrifice to mc of all the recollections which 
 afflict them ; I will repay them with my gratitude and my affection. 
 
 " Profess, all of you, from this day forward ; profess, all of you — and I will set thfl 
 example — but one opinion, but one interest, but one will, attachment to the newcon- 
 Ititution, and an ardent desire for the peace, the happiness and the prosperity oC 
 Franc« " 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. (31 
 
 rabeau, who possessed more influence, but was certainly a man of Jess 
 irreproachable character, than Lafayette. 
 
 The communications of Mirabeau with the court still continued. 
 He had even kept up an intercourse with Monsieur, whose opinions 
 rendered him more accessible to the popular party, and he liad re- 
 peated to him what he never ceased to tell the Queen and M. de 
 Montmorin, tiiat the monarcliy could not be saved unless by liberty. 
 Mn-abeau at length came to terms v/ith the court by means of an in- 
 tennediate agent. He declared his principles in a kind of profession 
 of faith ; he engaged not to swerve from ihem, and to support the 
 court so long as it should follow the same line. A considcrahle sala- 
 ry was given to him in return. Morality indeed condemns such trea- 
 ties, and insists that a man ought to do his duty for the sake of duty 
 alone. But was this selling himself? A weak man would no doubt 
 have sold himself by sacrificing his principles; but the mighly Mira- 
 beau, so far from sacrificing his, brought power over to the court, and 
 received from it that aid which his urgent necessities and his licentious 
 passions rendered indispensable to him. Unlike those who give up 
 tor a high price mean talents and a cowardly conscience, IMirabcau, 
 inllexible in his principles, combated by turns his own party and the 
 court, as if lie had not expected popularitj- from the former, or the 
 means of existence from the latter. To such a point was this oppo 
 sition carried, that historians, unable to believe him an ally of the 
 court which he combated, have not fixed the date of liis treaty earlier 
 than the year 1791, though it was concluded in the very first montlis 
 of 171)1). Mirabeau saw the Queen, charmed her by his superiority, 
 and experienced from her a reception that flattered him exceedingly.* 
 
 * Previously to this intenicw, the Queen, though she dreaded his power, lielJ 
 Miialjo.iii ill the iit[)iost detestation, as appears from tJie following anecdote wliich 
 the Diiciioss d' Abrantes has related in her Memoirs : " On the 7di of May, 17S0. the 
 Ciiieen was infonned of Mirabean's hostile intentions. M. Necker was considted 
 about the expcJiency of entering into a negociation with him; and his opinion was, 
 that iMirabcaii was possessed of extraordinary talent, but wanted judgment ; aiul M. 
 Necker considered him not very formidable. He tiierefore declined to have any 
 thing to do uith t!ie mailer, and merely yielded to the Queen's wish to place at her 
 disposal a sum of money to assist the execution of her designs. Furnished with his 
 instructions and a well-stocked purse, the Count de Reb — went one morning to .AIi- 
 rabeau, phed him witli uuich art, and (inally made hiin offers which he felt confident 
 he woidd not hesitate to accept. But fate ordained that the man who had alwavg 
 been needy and tormented by creditors, should be at that moment well supplied with 
 money. ^Vhat was the result? He rejectedthe Count de Reb — 's offer, and a«ked 
 him for whom he took him. He thus dismissed the count with all tho dignity of 
 'in ancient Greek, telling him that otTers of money could not be listened to bv him. 
 The count, though chagrined, did not lose hope. He knew Mirabeau well eiinugh. 
 and was sure he would not remain long in his present frame of mind. Shortly 
 afterwards, a certain M. Jouvelet called on the Count de Reb — , and announced 
 to him that I\Iirabeaii consented to place all his influence at the disposal of the court, 
 but required an honourable treaty and not a paltry bargain; that he did not wi^li to 
 supersede M. Necker, but that anv other department of the ministry would suit hitn, 
 On these terms he would devote himself to the court. The count, oa hearing this, 
 went to Mirabeau, was well received, and heard all the reasons he gave for his rendi 
 pess to sacrifice himself by entering lie ministry at such a moment. The same day. 
 Ihe count saw the individual who was to speak to the Queen; and he, on the first 
 intelligence of llie capitulation of Mirabeau — for he was really a tower ofstrength — ran 
 mmediatelv to acquaint her majesty with the news. The Count de Reb — foUowed, 
 
133 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 That extraordinary man had a keen relish for all pleasures, for those 
 of vanity as well as for those of the passions. It was necessary to 
 take him with his strength and his foibles, and to employ him for tlic 
 benefit of the common cause. Besides Lafayette and Mirabeau, the 
 court relied on Bouille, whom it is time to introduce to the reader.* 
 
 Bouille, full of courage, integrity, and talent, had all the prejudices 
 of the aristocracy, and was distinguished from it only by less infatua- 
 tion and more experience in business. Having retired to Metz, where 
 he commanded a vast extent of frontier and a great part of the army, 
 lie strove to foment jealousies between his troops and the national 
 guard, in order that he might keep his soldiers steady to the court.] 
 Placed there on the watch, he scared the popular party ; he seemed 
 the general of the monarchy, as Lafayette was the general of the con- 
 stitution. The aristocracy nevertheless displeased him, the weakness 
 of the King disgusted him with the service, and he would have quitted 
 It had he not been pressed by Louis XVL to continue in it. Bouille 
 
 and when he entered the royal cabinet, the Queen advanced towards him, her conn 
 tiMiance beaming with pleasure. ' The King will he gratified by your zeal, ]\Ionsieur 
 said ?he to the plenipoteniiary : ' well, had you a good bargain of this man? How 
 much has he cost?' He replied that Mirabeau, with true magnanimity, had rejected 
 all propositions of a pecuniary nu»ure. He then mentioned the appointment to the min- 
 istry. At this the Q,ueen reddened, and then turned deadly pale. She closed her eyes, 
 and striking her forehead with her hand, exclaimed, 'A minister! Make Riquetii ]\lirii' 
 beau a minister! Never, never will I alkw the threshold of the King's council to Ijq 
 sullied by the footsteps of such a man !' Sbo trembled with rage. ' Let him have niom-y 
 — grant him all he asks for; but to make him a minister! Is it possible that my frioiid^ 
 can give me this advice?' She then paced the room with every mork of agitation, re- 
 penting the words, 'A minister, forsooth! a mmisterl' The negotiation was coiise 
 quently broken off for a season ; for Mirabeau would not accept money, and the 
 U.ueen would not, till long afterwards, consent to grant him an interview." E. 
 
 * "The Marquis de Bouille was a gentleman of Auvergne, and a relative of La 
 fayette's. After having served in the dragoons, he became colonel of the regimen) 
 of Vexin infantry. Having attained the raidv of major-general, the King appointed 
 him Governor-general of the Windward Islands. In 1778 he took Dominica, St. 
 Eustatia, and soon after St. Christopher's, Nevis, and Alontserrat. Ou his return ho 
 was made lieutenant-general. In 1789 he brought back to its duty the revolted gar- 
 rison of Metz. On the 5th of September, in the same year, Grcgoire complained 
 to the Assembly, that M. de Bouille had not administered the civic oath individually, 
 and obtained a decree that he should be obliged to do it. In 1790 he was commis- 
 eioned to bring under subjection the garrison of Nancy, which had risen against its 
 chiefs; he advanced upon the town with four thousand men, and succeeded in this 
 enterprise, in which he showed much bravery, and which at first gained him great 
 praises from the National Assembly, and afterwards as many reproaches. Being 
 chosen by the King to facilitate his escape from Paris in June, 1791, Bouille marched 
 at the head of a body of troops to protect the passage of the royal family; hut, by 
 false advices or ill-executed orders, this enterprise failed, and M. de Bouille had great 
 difficulty in leaving France. From Luxemburg he wrote to the Assembly a letter 
 full of threats, and concluded by saying, that if a hair of Louis XVI. 's head was 
 touched, he would not leave one stone on another in Paris. On the 13th of July 
 the Assembly decreed that he should be tried for contumacy, and that the papers rel- 
 ative to the King's escape should be sent to the high court of the nation. From Vienna, 
 whither he had first gone, Bouille passed to the court of Sweden, which gave him em- 
 ployment, and in the name of which he promised powerful assistance to the French 
 princes. After the death of Gustavus HI. M. de Bouille went to England, where lie 
 I ublished some valuable papers on the Revolution. IIo died in London in 180'.?.' 
 Jiiogrnphie Modernc. E. 
 
 * This he admits himself in his Memou'8. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 133 
 
 (vas full of honour. After taking his oath, he thought of nothing- hut 
 !io\v to serve the King and the constitution. The court, therefore, 
 needed hut to unite Lafayette, Miraheau, and Bouille ; and through 
 them it would have had the national guards, the Assembly, and the 
 army, that is to say, the three powers of the day. Some motives, it is 
 true, divided these three personages. Lafayette, full of good nature, 
 was ready to unite with all who wert desirous of serving the Kins: nnd 
 the constitution ; but Miraheau was jealous of Lafayette's power, 
 dreaded his purity, wliich was so higbly extolled, and seemed to re- 
 gard it as a reproach. Bouille hated in Lafayette his enthusiastic cha- 
 racter, and perhaps viewed in biin an irreproachable enemy ; he ]5re- 
 ferred Mirabeau, whom he deemed more inana2:eable and li^ss rjo-o- 
 rous in his political creed. It was for the court to unite these three 
 men by removing their particular motives for keeping aloof from each 
 other. But there was only one bond of union, a free monarchy. 
 Tlie court ought therefore to have frankly resigned itself to this only 
 course, and to have followed it up with all its might. But the court, 
 ever unsteady, received Lafayette coldly, without repulsing hiin ; paid 
 Mirabeau, who lectured it fj-om time to time ; kept up Bouille's dis- 
 like of the Revolution ; looked to Austria witli hope ; and suffered the 
 emigrants at Turin to take active measures. Such is the Avay with 
 weakness. It strives to delude itself with hopes rather than to ensure 
 success, and in this manner it ultimately ruins itself by exciting sus- 
 picions which irritate parties as much as decided opposition. It is 
 much better to strike than to threaten them. 
 
 In vain Lafayette, who would fain have done what the court ne- 
 glected to do, wrote to Bouille, his kinsman, exhorting him to serve 
 the throne jointly ■\vith himself, and by the only possible means, those 
 of frankness and liberty. Bouille, at the evil instigation of the court, 
 replied coldly and evasively, and, without attempting any thing against 
 the constitution, he continued to render himself formidable by the 
 secrecy of his intentions and the strength of his army. 
 
 The reconciliation of the 4th of February, which might have led to 
 sucii important results, was therefore useless. The trial of Favras 
 was concluded, and, whether from fear or from a conviction of his 
 guilt, the Chatelet sentenced him to be hanged. Favras displayed in 
 his last moments a firmness more worthy of a martyr than of an intri- 
 guer. He protested his innocence, and demanded permission to make 
 a declaration before he died. The scaffold was erected in the Place 
 de Greve. He was conveyed to the Hotel de Ville, where he remain- 
 ed till night. The populace, eager to see a marquis hanged, impa 
 tiently awaited this example of equality in punishments. Favras re- 
 lated that he had held communications with a high dignitary of the 
 Slate, who had engaged him to dispose the public mmd favourably to- 
 v/ards the King. As this would have put him to considerable expense, 
 the personage in question had given him one hundred louis, which he 
 had accepted. He affirmed that this was the whole extent of hia 
 crime ; and he mentioned no names. He asked, however, if the con- 
 fession of names could save him. Not satisfied with the answer thai 
 was returned, " In that case," said he, "I will take my secret with 
 
134 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 me ;" and he walked witli great firmness, towards the place of execu- 
 tion. It was night : the Place and the gibbet itself were lighted up 
 The populace enjoyed the sight, delighted to find equality even on the 
 scaftold. It was to them a subject for cruel jests ; and they parodied 
 in various ways the execution of this unfortunate man. The body of 
 Favras was delivered to his family, and fresh events soon caused his 
 death to be forgotten ahke by those who had punished and those who 
 had employed him. 
 
 The exasperated clergy continued to excite petty disturbances 
 throughout France. The nobility relied much upon its influence among 
 the people. So long as die Assembly had proceeded no further than 
 by a decree to place ecclesiastical property at the disposal of the na- 
 tion, the clergy had hoped that the decree would not be carried into 
 execution ; and, in order to render it useless, it proposed a variety of 
 plans for supplying the wants of the exchequer. The Abb6 Maury* 
 imd proposed a tax on luxury, and the Abbe Salside had replied, by 
 
 * " Jean SifFrcin Maury, prior of Lyons, abbot of La Frenade, and King's preach- 
 er, was born at Vabreas, in the county of Avignon, on the 2Ctli of June, ]74G, of a 
 fimily engaged in commerce, and in the law. He came very young to Paris, where 
 his talent for preaching gained him several benefices, and he acquired reputation ai)d 
 a scat in the Academy, by his sermons and panegyrics previous to the Revolution : at 
 which period he employed all his eloquence in defence of the monarchy. It has been 
 observed tliat he is almost the only person whom this line of conduct has not led to 
 indigence or death. In 1789 the clergy of Peronne deputed him to the States-Gene- 
 ral, where he displayed eloquence, erudition, and a talent for extempore speaking, 
 which rendered him formidable to the opposite party. In the chamber of the clergy 
 he strongly objected to the union of the orders, and when it was effected, he for some 
 time abandoned Versailles, and was arrested at Peronne, bnt soon released by order 
 3f the Assembly, in which he a;jain appeared. On the 13th of October, the Abbe 
 IMaury spoke eloquently in defence of the properly of the clergy, which it was pro- 
 posed to declare national. On the 9th of November, he occasioned a tremendous 
 commotion by accusing the president of exclusive partiality to the left side. On tho 
 19th of December, he, supported by a great part of his order, protested against the 
 measure for making assignats payable from the property of the clergy. On the 23d, 
 he spoke with energy against the admission of Jews, executioners, and players, to the 
 rights of citizens, representing the two latter professions as infamous. On the 24th 
 of February, 1791, Maury made a vigorous attack on the motion for compelling the 
 Kiug and the presumptive heir to the crown to reside near the legislative body, and 
 ended his speech by a shout of ' God save the King!' which was repeated by the 
 riglit side. On the 13th of May, he discussed the great question concerning the ad- 
 mission of people of colour to the rights of citizens, which produced considerable 
 effect on the Assembly, and gained hiin the applause of all parties. Leaving France 
 after the Assembly closed, Maury went to Rome, where the Pope conferred on hlin 
 the title of Bishop, and sent him to Frankfort in 1792 to assist as apostolic nuncio at 
 the coronation of the emperor. In 1792, after the 10th of August, the Legislative 
 Asseuibly passed a decree of accusation against Maury; but it is worthy of remark 
 that, though one of the most zealous defenders of the monarchy and the clergy, he 
 was never an object of personal hatred to the populace. ' At least he does not seek 
 to betray us, but openly supports the cause he has embraced,' said the people of the 
 capital. Maury's presence of mind was remarkalile. On one occasion when a Pa- 
 risian mob pursued him, with the fatal cry of 'To the lamp-post!' he coolly turned 
 round and said, ' And when you have put me in the place of the lamp, do you iriia' 
 gine you will see the better 7" A general laugh followed this remark, and Maury was 
 left unmolested. In 1793 he was appointed Archbishop of Nice, and the next year 
 ne received the cardinal's hat. In the beginning of ]805, Maury addressed a letter 
 to Napoleon, in which he recognised the new government. Aldiough he himself 
 escaped the scaffold by quitting France before the reign of the Jacobins, yet almosi: 
 t}m whole of Maury'd family perished in one year."— Biographie Moderne,. F.. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 135 
 
 n-soving that no ecclesiastic should possess an income exceeding one 
 tliousand crowns. Tlie wealthy abbe was silenced by such a proposa/ 
 On another occasion, in discussing the debt of the state, Cazales had 
 projiosed to investigate, not the titles of each credit, but the credit itself 
 its origin, and its motive ; which would have been renewing bankrupt- 
 cy by the odious and worn-out expedient of chamhrcs ardcntes. The 
 clrriiT, inimical to the creditors of tlie state, to whom it deemed itself 
 sacnliced, had su[)ported tlie proposal, notwithstanding the strictness 
 of its principles in regard to i)roperty. IMaury had spoken with great 
 warmth, and had even violated the respect due to tlie Assembly, by 
 saying to some of its members that they had oidy the courage of shame. 
 The Assembly had taken offence at this expression, and thought of 
 expelling him. lUit Mirabeau, who had reason to suppose that the 
 attack was aimed at him, represented to liis colleagues that each depu- 
 ty belonged to his constituents, and that they had no right to exclude 
 any individual. 1'his moderation befitted real superiority. It was 
 successful, and Maury was more severely punished by a reprimand, than 
 he would have been by expulsioji. All tiicse expedients for putting 
 the creditors of the state in the sajne cojidition as themselves, were 
 useli'ss to the clergy; and the Assembly decreed the sale of property 
 belonging to the crown and the church to the amount of four hundred 
 millions. 
 
 Thr clergy, rendered desperate, then circulated writings among the 
 people, and declared that tlie plan of the revolutionists was to attack 
 the Catholic religion. It was in the southern provinces that it hoped 
 to be most successful. We have seen that the first emigration had 
 directed its course towards Turin. It was with Provence and Lan- 
 guedoc that its principal connnunications were kept up. Calonne, 
 so celebrated at the time of the Notables,* was the minister of the 
 
 * " ]\r. Calonne was the third wlio had succeeded to tlie office of comptroller of the 
 finances from the dismissal of l\I. Necker. IJe was confessedly a man of ability, and 
 had filled successively the oflice of intendant of IMetz, and of the province of Flanders 
 and Artois. The pnblic, however, saw with disirnst and appreiiension the wealth of 
 the nation fall into the hands of a man who had dilapidated his own patrimony ; wlio, 
 inconsiderate in character, and immoral npon system, had dishononred his talents hy 
 his vices, and his dignities by the baseness of his conduct; and who, while he exer- 
 cised the oll'ice of procureur-fjeneral of the parliament of Douay, had degraded him- 
 self so fir as to act the spy of the minister with respect to the procureur-general of 
 the parliament of Bretagne, and had the insolence to sit as the judge of that respecta- 
 ble magistrate, whom he had calumniated; and who, grown gray in the intriirues of 
 gallantry and of the court, came with a flock of needy sycophants to devour the reve- 
 nues of the nation nnder the pretence of administering them. The first part of tiie 
 career of M. Calonne was, notwithstanding, brilliant, but it was only a brilliant de- 
 eeption. One of his first measures was to establish a sinking fund, which by a kind 
 of ministerial juggle, was, hi a certain course of years, to discharge the whole national 
 debt. It was even reported by his agents that he had discovered the miraculous se- 
 cret of paving oirthe debts of the nation by — borrowing!" — Impartial Histury of tha 
 French Rarolulion, E. 
 
 In the memoirs ascribed to the unfortunate Princess de Lamballe, it Is asserted ttiat 
 l\I. de Calonne took an active pnrt in the piiblication of JNIadanie de la IMotle's work 
 against the Queen, relative to the celebi-ated affair of the necklace. It is there said 
 also, that Sheridan, having accidentally seen at a London bookeller's a copy of tho 
 first edition corrected by a person in Paris, supposed to be one of the King's ministers 
 *\rote to the Princesa de Lamballe to inform her of the circumstance. A confidentii 
 
136 HISTORF OF THE 
 
 fugitive court. That court was split into two parties. The high 
 ii'jbility was solicitous to maintain its empire, and dreaded tlie inter* 
 ference of tlio provincial noblesse, and still more that of tlie boitr- 
 gci/isic. Ill consequence, it would have recourse to none but foreig-ii 
 aid to re-establish the throne. Besides, to employ religion, as tiie 
 emissaries of the provinces proposed to do, appeared ridiculous to 
 men who had diverted themselves for a century with the pleasantries 
 of Voltaire. 
 
 The other party, coix.posed of petty nobles and expatriated citizens, 
 pr()j)osed to combat the passion for liberty by a still stronger passion, 
 fanaticism, — and to conquer single-handed, without laying itself 
 under obligation to foreigners. The former alleged the vindictive 
 ti.iturc of civil war as an excuse for foreifT-n interference. The latter 
 maintained that the effusion of blood was inseparable from such war, 
 but that it ought not to be sullied by a treason. These men, more 
 courageous, more patriotic, but more ferocious than the others, could 
 not possibly succeed in a court where Calonne ruled. As, however, 
 this court had need of every body, the communications between 
 Turin and the southern provinces were continued. It was determined 
 to attack the revolution by foreign as well as by civil war, and to this 
 end an attempt was made to awaken the ancient fanaticism of those 
 countries.* 
 
 agent was ?pnl to London to purchase this copy, which was transmitted to theQ,iieen 
 and the arlditions and corrections were instantly recognised as the handwriting of 
 M. de Culonne. His dismissal from office was the iiinnediate consequence. E. 
 
 * In order to convey a correct idea of the emigration, and the opinions which divi- 
 ded it, I cannot do !)Ctterthan quote the Memoirs of M. F^romont himself. In a vo- 
 lume entided Ucciuil de di7:ers Ecrils iclatifs a hi Rtvohulon, ]\I. Fromontthnscxpres 
 ses himself (p. 4, ct seq.) : 
 
 " I repaired secretly to Turin (January, 1790J to the French princes, to solicittlieir 
 approbation and their support. In a council which was held on my arrival, I de- 
 monstrated to ihem that, ifthcij icnuldarm the partisans of the allar and the throne, and 
 make, the interests of religion go hand in hand with those of royally, it would he easy to save 
 balk. Though strongly attached to the faith of my forefathers, it was not upon the 
 non-catholics that I proposed to make war, but upon tlie dechued foes of Catholi- 
 cism and royalty, upon those who loudly asserted that.Tesus Christ and the Bourbons 
 h.-id been talked of too long, upon those who wished to strangle the last of kings with 
 the intestines of the last of priests. The non-catholics zcho continued faithful to the 
 monarchy have always found in me the most ailectionate fellow-citizen, the rebel 
 Catholics the most implacable enemy. 
 
 " My plan tcndofl solely to raise a party, and to give It all the extension and consis- 
 tency I could. Tfie real argument of I'ho revolutionists l)eing force, I felt that the 
 real answer was force. Then, as at present, I was convinced of this great truth, that 
 a strong passion can be only stifled by a still stronger; and that religious zeal alone can 
 stifle the republican mania. The miracles which zeal for religion^has sine:: wrought 
 in La V^ixuh^p, and in vSpain prove that the philosophers and the revohitionists of all 
 parties would not have succeeded in establishing their anti-religions and onti-sociitl 
 system for a fjw years over the greater part of Europe, had the ministers of Louis 
 XVI. conceived such a plan as mine, or had it been sincerely adopted and supported 
 by the advisers of the emigrant princes. 
 
 "But, unUickily, most of the i)ersoiis who directed Louis XVI. and the princos of 
 nis house reasoned and acted only on philosophic principles, though the philosophers 
 and their disciples were the cau^e and the agents of the RevoliUlon. They would 
 nave fancied that they were ridiculous and dishonoured if they had uttered the single 
 word religion, or had employed the powerful means which it furnishes, and of which 
 rbe greatest politicians of all ages have successfully availed themselves. While the 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. IS'' 
 
 The clcr2i:y neglected no means of sccondin'T tliis plan. The Pro- 
 testants ill tliose parts cxeited the envy of the Catholics. The clergy 
 took advantage of these dissensions, especially daring the solemni- 
 
 Nntioanl As'^embly strove to niisle;ul t!ie pfoplo, and to secure tli<?ir confidence by 
 the Hiipprfi^sioa ol' ('(■iidul rights, of tith''-;, oi'lli'' ^uhcllc, Sec, tlie inonarcliists proposod 
 to bring thi'iii h.icic tosiiljini-;.>ion Ijv ;ili evposiHon of thi:* incoliovcnce oi"the new l;i\vs, 
 by li jiicliiro oftlie inisi'ortiiiifs of the King, and by writings above tlu'ir coniprelicn- 
 elou. By tln'so ine'iiis they Iio[ip(J (o revive in the hearts of all llie French a pure 
 and di•^iIltl■r''^t(-d love lortlieir soverei^ni; tlii'V imagined that the clamonrs of the dis- 
 contented wonid stop th'; enlerpri^es oflhe I'artion-;, and enable the Knig toproccrd 
 direct tij ihc gotil ivhir/t, /ic ivus (Lsinins i>f (tllu'inin^. Tlie worth of my advice \vay 
 proh.ibly rated aeeordnij to my station in lili', and the vahie pi. iced by the grandees 
 ofthe cenrt upon th'.'ir titles and thi'ir wi.mIi'i." 
 
 iM. Fromont continnes his narrative aii<J in another jdacc ctiaractcrizes tlic parties 
 hito which tiie fnicitive court was divided, in the lollowiiig manner (p. ?>?>): 
 
 "These lioiionraljle titles, ■.i\\i\ the attentions ^n,'iierillv paid to me at Turin, wuiikl 
 have made iiie i'org-.'t the [la^t, and com-cive llii' most (latlering liopes for the future, 
 if I liad di'^envered prudence in the advisers of the prince^, and perfect liarmony 
 among those' wlio had most inlhience' on onr alTairs; but I observed with grief that 
 the ciiu<^ra(iiiii inif! Sjild into lico partirs. one ofwhieh would not attempt a counter- 
 revolution hwilnjthcaid i>f furcii^ni jioircis, and tiic other but iy t/^c ruijnlisls uf the 
 interior. 
 
 " T/ir.Jir.<;t])itrt)i proiiiI~i'd that, on t!ie ce^-ioii of certain provinces to the powers, 
 they would fnrnish the French princes with arinii.-s snllii-ieiitly numerous to reduce 
 the fai'tions ; that in time it wmdd he easy to withdraw the concessions which they 
 had be-'H forced to make; and that the court, by contr.icling im obligation to a))!) of 
 the Ijoilics of t/ir, stair, wmild he able to dictate laws to all the Fremch 'J^lie cour- 
 tiers tiemblefj jest the nobility ofthe provinees ;ind the royalists of the ficrs-if^/ishonld 
 liave ihe honour of s(;tting the tottering monarchy upon its legs again. They were 
 aware that they would no lunger be the dispi'iners oi'ltonnties and favours, and that 
 tlieir reii,Mi woiikl be' at an end as soon as tlie nobility ol"die [uovinces .siioiild have 
 re-i'staldislu'd the roval authority at the expeni^e ol'it-; blood, and thereby earned the 
 gratitude and conlide'nce of its sovereign, thread of this new order of things cansi'd 
 tliem to unite, if not to dissuade the princi>s from employing in any way the royalists of 
 the interior, at h.'asl to [)crsiiade them to fi\ their attention piincipally on the cabinets of 
 Europe, and to induce them to found their gri.Mte-;t liopes on I'oreign assistance. In 
 conseipieiice' of this dread they sccrctbj set at work the mo'^t eliicacions means for ruin- 
 ing (he internal resources, ami for thwarting the proposi.'d plans, several ofwhieh were 
 calculatetl to ellect the re-establishment of order, if they had been wisely directed and 
 sup[)orted. This is what I mysscif witnessed : this is what I will some day ]nuve liy 
 authentic ficts and testimonies; but the time is not yet come. In a conference held 
 about this very time on the subject of the advantage to be derived iroin the fi- 
 vonrable disposition of the people of Lyons and Franche Comte, I stated without 
 reserve tlie means which ought to be em])loyed, at the stimc time, to ensure the tri- 
 umph of the royalists ofthe Gevaudan, the Cevonnes, the Vivarais, the Cointat-A'e- 
 nais-^in, Langiiedoc, and Provence. In the heat of the discussion, the 3Iar(piis 
 d'Antichamp, marcchal-de-camp, ///r; ^rmf cintmpion of t/ic poiccrs, said 1o me, 'But 
 will not tlie oppressed, and the relatives ofthe victims, seek to revenge themselves?' 
 — ' What signiiies that,' said I, 'provided we attain our aim?' — ' See,' he exclaimed, 
 liow I have made hiiii admit that private reviMige would be wreaked !' \Vith some- 
 thing more than astonishment at this observation, I said to the lAIarrjuisde Rouzii're, 
 who sat nevt to me, 'I did not imagine that a civil war ought to resemble a mis-^ion 
 of Capuchins.' Tims it was, that, by filling piiuceswith the fear of rendering them- 
 eelves odious to their bitterest enemies, the courtiers induced them to adopt half- 
 measures, sullicient, no doubt, to provoke the zeal of the royalists ofthe interior, but 
 most inadequate, after compromising them, to protect them from the fury of the 
 factions. Since that time I recoiled that, while the army of the princes was in 
 Ch.iinpagne, I\I. de la Porte, aide-de-camp to the iMarquis d'Antichamp, having taken 
 prisoner a republican, fancied, agreeably to the system (d'his general, that he should 
 bring iimi hack to his duty by a pathetic exhortation, and by restoring to him his arms 
 und Ins liberty; but no sooner had the republican got to the dist;ince of a few paces 
 
 VOL. I. — 18 
 
133 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 ties of Easter. At Moiitpellier, at Nimes, at Montauban, the olj 
 tanaticisni was roused in all possible ways. 
 
 Charles Lanicth complained in the tribune that the festival of 
 Easter had been abused for the purpose of misleading the people, 
 and exciting them against the new laws. At these words the clergy 
 rose, and would have quitted the Assembly. The Bishop of Clermont 
 threatened to do so, and a great number of ecclesiastics were already 
 on their legs, and about to retire, when Charles Lameth was called 
 to order, and the tumult subsided. IMeanwhile the sale of the posses- 
 sions of the clergy was carried into execution. This was warmly 
 resented by them^ and they omitted no occasion of manifesting their 
 indignation. 
 
 Dom Gerle, a Carthusian, a man perfectly sincere in his religious 
 and patriotic sentiments, one day desired permission to speak, and 
 proposed that the Catholic religion should be declared the only reli- 
 gion of the state. A great number of deputies instantly rose, and 
 were ready to vote the motion by acclamation, saying that the Assem- 
 bly had now an opportunity to clear itself from the charge preferred 
 against it of attacking the Catholic religion. Still, what was the ten- 
 dency of such a motion? It either aimed at giving a privilege to the 
 Catholic religion, and no religion ought to have any ; or it was the 
 declaration of a fact, namely, that the majority of the French were 
 Catholics — a fact which need not have been declared. Such a motion, 
 therefore, could not be entertained. Accordingly, in spite of the efforts 
 of the noljility and clergy, the debate was adjourned to the following 
 day. An immense crowd collected. Lafayette, apprized that evil-dis- 
 posed persons intended to excite disturbance, had doubled the guard. 
 The discussion commenced. An ecclesiastic threatened the Assem- 
 
 than he levelled his conqueror with the groinid. The IVIarquis d'Autichamp, un- 
 mindful of the moderatiou which he had displayed at Turin, burued several villages 
 to avenge the death of hi.s imprudent missionary. 
 
 " The second party maintained that, since the powers had several times taken up 
 arms to humble the Bourbons, and iu particular to prevent Louis XIV. from secu- 
 ring the crown of Spain for his grandson, so far from calling them to our aid, we 
 ought, on the contrary, to rekindle the zeal of the clergy, the devotion of the nobility, 
 the love of the people, for the King, and lose no time in quelling a family quarrel, of 
 
 which foreigners might, perhaps, be tempted to take advantage It was to this 
 
 fatal division among the leaders of the emigration, and to the unskilfulness or the 
 treachery of the ministers of Louis XVI., that the revolutionist? owed their first sue- 
 ceases. I will go still farther, and assert that it was not the National Assembly which 
 effected the Revolution, but those who were about the King and the princes. I 
 maintain that the ministers delivered up Louis XVI. to the enemies of royalty, as 
 certain dabblers have delivered up the princes and Louis XVIII. to the enemies of 
 France. I maintain that the majority of the courtiers about Louis XVI. and Louis 
 XVIII., and the priucesof their house, were and are charlatans, real political cumichs; 
 that to their listlessness, their cowardice, or tiieir treason, are to be imputed all the 
 calamities which France has suffered, and those which still threaten the world. If I 
 \md borne a great name, and had belonged to the council of the Bourbons, I should 
 not have outlived the idea that a horde of base and cowardly brigands, none of whom 
 have displayed any kind of genius or superior talent, should have contrived to 
 overthrow the throne, to establish their domination over several powerful states of 
 Europe, and to make the world tremble. When this idea haunts me, I bury myself 
 in the obscurity of my station, that it may screen me from censure, as it has withheld 
 from me the^ower to arrest the progress of thd Revolution." 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 139 
 
 biy witli malediction. Mauiy uttered his usual cries. Menou calmly 
 replied to all the reproaches brought against the Assembly, and said 
 that it could not reasonably be accused of an intention to abolish the 
 Catholic religion, at the very moment when it was making tlie cost of 
 its worship an item ii. the public expenditure. He proposed, there- 
 fore, to pass to the order of the day. Dom Gerle was persuaded to 
 withdraw his motio)i, and excused himself for havinij excited such a 
 tumult. ^I. de la Rochcfoucault submitted a motion differently 
 worded, which succeeded that of Menou. All at once a member of 
 the right side complained that the Assembly was not free. He called 
 upon Lafayette, and inquired why he had doubled the guard. The 
 motive was not suspected, and it was not the left side that could be 
 al'raid of the people, for it was not his own friends that Lafayette sought 
 to protect. Tliis appeal increased the tumult; the discussion never- 
 theless continued. In the course of the debate Louis XIV. was men- 
 tioned. " I am not surprised," exclaimed Mirabcau, " that reference 
 should be made to the reign in which the edict of Nantes was rc\ oked ; 
 but consider that, from this tribune whence I address you, I sec that 
 fatal window, where a king, the murderer of his subjects, mingling 
 wordly interests with those of religion, gave the signal for the massacre 
 of8t. Bartholomew!" This terrible apostrophe did not ])ut an c]n\ tc 
 tlie discussion. It lasted some time longer, and the motion of the 
 Duke de la Rociiefoucault was finally adopted. The Assendijy 
 declared that its sentiments were known, but that, out of regard for 
 the liberty of conscience, it neither could nor ought to deliberate oii 
 the motion submitted to it. 
 
 Scarcely had a i^cw days elapsed before a new expedient was em- 
 ployed to threaten and to dissolve the Assembly. The new orgaiii- 
 zatmn of the kingdom was completed ; the people were about to be 
 convoked to elect their maijistrates, and it Avas conceived that they 
 might as well choose at the same time new deputies instead of iIiosh, 
 who composed the Assembly then sitting. This plan, proposed and 
 discussed before, had already been rejected. It was again brought 
 forward in April, 1790. Some of the instructions limited the po\\rrs 
 to one year; and the deputies had actually been nearly a year assem- 
 bled. Tiiey had met in May, 17S9, and it was now near the moulh 
 of April, 1790. Though the instructions had been annulled, and ihry 
 had bound themselves not to separate before the com.plction of the 
 constitution, these men, for whom there was neither decree j)assed 
 nor oath taken, proposed to have other deputies elected, and to give 
 up their pKiccs to them. 
 
 Maury, charged to propose this measure, played liis part with more 
 assurance than ever, but with more address than usual. He appealed 
 to the sovereignty of the people, and said that they could no longvr 
 |)ut themselves in the place of the nation, and prolong powers which 
 were but temporary. He asked by what right they had invested 
 themselves with sovereign attributes; he insisted that this distinction 
 between the legislative and constituent power was a chimerical dis- 
 tinction ; tliat a sovereign convention could not exist unless in tlu' 
 nbsence of all government ; and that, if the Assembly were that con 
 
140 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 veiition, it had only to depose the King;, and to declare the throne 
 vacant. Loud cries interrupted tliese words, and expressed the gene- 
 ral indignation. Mirabeau then rose with dignity. " We are asked," 
 said he, " since what time the deputies of the people liave become a 
 National Convention. I answer, from the day when, findinjr the 
 entry to their seats encompassed by soldiers, they went and met in 
 the first place where they could assemble, to swear to perisli rather 
 than to betray and abandon the riglits of the nation. On that day, 
 the nature of our powers, whatever they were, was changed. Be 
 the powers that we have exercised what tliey may, our efforts, our 
 labours, have legitimated them. The adhesion of the whole nation 
 has sanctified them. All of you recollect the expression of that great 
 man of antiquity, who had neglected the legal forms for saving the 
 country. Called upon by a factious tribune to say if he had observed 
 the laws, he replied, ' I swear that I have saved the country.' Gen- 
 tlemen," added IMirabeau, addressing the deputies of the commons, 
 " I swear tliat you have saved France !" 
 
 At this magnificent oath, says Ferrieres, tlie whole Assembly, as if 
 under the influence of a sudden inspiration, closed the discussion, 
 and resolved that the electoral bodies should not proceed to the elec- 
 tion of new deputies. 
 
 Thus was this new scheme frustrated, and the Assembly enabled 
 to proceed with its labours. Disturbances nevertheless continued 
 throughout France. The commandant De Voisin Avas murdered by 
 the people. The forts of Marseilles were seized by the national 
 guard. Commotions originating in a different spirit took place at 
 Nimes and Montauban. Emissaries from Turin Jiad excited the 
 Catholics ; they had delivered addresses, in Avhich they declared the 
 monarchy in danger, and insisted that the Catholic religion should 
 be declared the religion of the state. A royal proclamation had in 
 vain replied. They had rejoined. The Protestants had come to 
 blows with the Catholics on the subject ; and the latter, waiting in 
 vain for the promised aid from Turin, had been at length repulsed. 
 Several of the national guards liad set themselves in motion to assist 
 the patriots against the insurgents ; the combat had thus commenced, 
 and the Count de Mirabeau, the declared adversary of his illustrious 
 brother, announcing the civil war from the tribune, seemed by his 
 motions, his gestures, and his words, to excite it amidst the Assembly. 
 
 Thus, while the more moderate deputies strove to allay the revo- 
 lutionary ardour, an indiscreet opposition excited a fever, which 
 repose might have reduced, and furnished the most vehement popu- 
 lar orators with pretexts. The violence of the clubs increased in 
 consequence. That of the Jacobins, the offspring of the Breton 
 club, at first established at Versailles, afterwards at Paris, surpassed 
 the others in numbers, talents, and violence. Its sittings were fre- 
 quented like those of the Assembly itself. Here met the principal 
 popular deputies, and here the most obstinate of them found excite- 
 ments. Lafayette, Avith a view to counteract this terrible influence, 
 had combined with Bailly and the most enlightened men to form 
 another club, called the club of 17S9, and subsequently that uf tho 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION 141 
 
 Feuillans. But the remedy was powerless. An assemblr.ge of a 
 hnndred cool, well-informed persons, could jiot attract the multitude, 
 like the ckib of the Jacobins, where all the popular passions were 
 allowed full scope. To shut up the clubs would have been the only 
 course ; but the court had too little frankness, and excited too little 
 mistrust, for the popular party to think of resorting to such an expe- 
 dient. The Lameths were at the head of the club of the Jacobins. 
 Mirabeau was as often at the one as at the other; and it was evident 
 to every one that his place was between all the parties. An occasion 
 soon occurred, on which he assumed a more decided character, and 
 gained a memorable advantage for monarchy. 
 
 The French revolution beiran to attract the attention of foreign 
 sovereigns; its language Avas so lofty, so iirm, and it had a character 
 of such generality, that foreign princes could not but be alarmed at 
 it. Up to this time it might have been taken for a temporary agita- 
 tion ; but the success of the Assembly, its firnD'.ess, its unexpected 
 constancy, and, above all, tlie prospect which it held forth to France, 
 and to all nations, could not fail to draw upon it both respect aud 
 hatred, and to engage the notice of cabinets. Europe was then di- 
 vided between two great hostile leagues ; the Anglo-Prussian league 
 on the one hand, and the imperial courts on the otiier. 
 
 Frederick William had succeeded the great Fredei'ick to tiie throne 
 of Prussia. This prince, fickle and A\'cak, renouncing the politics of 
 his illustrious predecessor, had forsaken the :dliance of France for 
 that of En'j;land. United with the latter powei', lie had formed that 
 famous Anglo-Prussian league, which attempted such great things, 
 and executed none of them ; which excited Sweden, Poland, and the 
 Porte;, against Russia and Austria, then abandoned all those whom it 
 had so excited, and even assisted in despoiling them by the partition 
 of Poland. 
 
 The plan of England and Prussia united, had been to ruin Russia 
 and Austria, by raising against them Sweden, where reigned the clii- 
 valrous Gustavus, Poland groaning under a former partition, and the 
 Porte smarting from Russian invasions. The particular intention 
 of England, in this league, was, without declaring war against France, 
 ^-o revenge herself for the assistance afforded to the American colonies. 
 She had found the means of doing so in setting the Turks and the 
 Russians at variance. France could not remain neuter between these 
 two nations, withoiit alienating the Turks, who reckoned upon her, 
 and without losing her commercial preponderance in the Levant. On 
 the other hand, by taking part m the war, she should lose the alliance 
 ot Russia, with which she had j\ist concluded a most advantageous 
 treaty, which ensured her supplies of timber, and of all the articles 
 lliat the North furnishes in abundance for the navy. Thus in eitlier 
 case France must sustain injury. Meanwhile England Avas equipping 
 ;ier forces, and preparing to employ them accoiiling to circumsiances. 
 Moreover, observing the derangement of tlie finances under the No- 
 tables, and the popular excesses under the Constituent Assembly, 
 she conceived that she should have no occasion for war ; and it has 
 been thought that she would have been better pleased to destroy 
 
142 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 France by means of internal disturbances than b/ arms. Hence slie 
 has always been charged witii encouraging our dissensions. 
 
 This Anglo-Prussian league had occasioned some battles to he 
 fought, with doubtful success. Gustavus had extricated himself like 
 a hero from a position into w^hich he had brought himself like an adven- 
 turer. Holland, which had risen against the stadtholder, had been again 
 subjected to him by English intrigues and Prussian armies. Entrland 
 had thus skilfully de|3rived France of a powerful maritime alliance; 
 and the Prussian monarch, who sought triumphs of vanity only, had 
 revenged an outrage committed by the states of Holland against the 
 wife of the stadtholder, who was his own sister. Poland completed 
 her constitution, and was about to take up arms. Turkey had been 
 beaten by Russia. Meanwhile the death of Joseph H., Emperor of 
 Austria, which happened in January, 1790, had changed the aspect of 
 thinirs. He had been succeeded by Leopold, that enligiitened and 
 pacific prince, whose happy reign had blessed Tuscany. Leopold, 
 clever as he was wise, wished to put an end to the war ; and in order 
 to succeed tlie better, he employed the resources of seduction, which 
 had such power over the fickle imagination of Frederick William. 
 Representations were made to that prince, picturing the blessings of 
 peace, the evils of war which had so long pressed heavily upon his 
 people, and, lastly, the dangers of the French revolution, which pro- 
 claimed such mischievous principles. Ideas of absolute power were 
 av/akened within him ; he was even led to conceive hopes of chas- 
 tising the French revolutionists, as he had chastised those of Holland. 
 He suffered himself to be persuaded at the moment he was about to 
 reap the advantages of that league, so boldly planned by Jiis minister 
 Hertzberg. 
 
 It was in July, 1790, that peace was signed at Reichenbach. In 
 August Russia made lier's with Sweden, and then had to cope only 
 with Poland, which Avas far from formidable, and the Turks, who 
 were beaten at all points. We shall notice hereafter these various 
 events. Thus then the attention of the powers was almost exclusively 
 directed to the French revolution. Some time before the conclusion 
 of peace between Prussia and Leopold, when the Anglo-Prussian 
 league threatened the two imperial courts, and secretly injured France, 
 as well as Spain, our constant and fiithful ally, some English vessels 
 were seized by the Spaniards in Nootka Sound. Warm remon- 
 strances were made, and followed up by a general armament in the 
 English ports. Spain, appealing to treaties, immediately applied to 
 France for assistance, and Louis XVI. ordered the eqiiipment of fif- 
 teen sail. England was accused of wishing, on this occasion, to 
 increase our embarrassments. The clubs of London, it is true, had 
 several times complimented tlie National Assembly, but the cabinet 
 left a few philanthropists to indulge in these philosophic efiusions, and 
 *vas meanwhile paying, it is said, those astonishing a"-itators who ap- 
 peared every where, and gave so much trouble to the national guards 
 of the kingdom. 
 
 The disturbances were still greater at the moment of the general 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 143 
 
 annament, and people could not help perceiving; a connexion be- 
 tween the threats of England and a renewal of the commotions 
 Lafayette, in particular, who never spoke in the Assembly but on 
 subjects which concerned the public tranquillity, denounced from the 
 tribune a secret influence. " 1 cannot forbear directinn; the attention 
 of the Assembly," said he, " to that new fermentation which mani- 
 fests itself from Strasburg to Ninies, and from Brest to Toulon, and 
 which the enemies of the pcojjle would in vain attribute to them, 
 since it bears all the characteristics of a secret influence. If we talk 
 of establisiiing departments, the country is laid waste. If neigh- 
 bouring powers begin to arm, disturbances immediately break out 
 m our ports and in our arsenals." Several commandants bad in fact 
 been murdered, and either through accident or design, the best officers 
 in our navy had been sacrificed. The English ambassador had been 
 directed by his court to repel these imputations. L>ut every one 
 knows what confidence is due to such messages. Calonne, too, had 
 written to tlie King,* to justify England ; butCalonne's testimony in 
 ftivour of a foreign country was liable to suspicion. Jle urged to no 
 purpose that every expense is known in a representative govenmient, 
 that even secret expenses arc at least acknowledged as such, and that 
 there was no item of that kind in the English budgets. Experience 
 has proved that even responsil)le ministers are never without money. 
 The most that can be said is, that time, which reveals every tiling, has 
 revealed nothing on this head, and that Neckcr, whose situation 
 qualified him to judge, never believed in this secret influence.! 
 
 The King, as we iiavc just seen, had notified to the Assembly the 
 equipment of fifteen sail of the line, thinking that it would approve of 
 that measure and vote the necessary supplies. The Assembly gave the 
 most f ivourable reception to the message, but perceived that it involved 
 a constitutional question, which it behooved it to resolve, before it re- 
 plied to the King. *' The measures arc taken," said Alexandre La- 
 meth ; " our discussion cannot delay them ; we must therefore first de- 
 cide whether the King or the Assembly shall be invested with the right 
 of making peace or war." It was, in tact, almost the last important pre- 
 roo-ative to be determined, and one of those which could not but excite 
 the strongest interest. The imaginations of men were filled with the 
 blunders of courts; and they were against leavingto the throne the power 
 of plunging the nation into dangerous wars, or dishonouring it by base 
 compromises. Nevertheless, among all the duties of government, the 
 makmo- of war and peace is that which involves the most action, and 
 over which the executive power ought to exercise the most influence ; 
 it is that in which it must be left most liberty, that it may act freely 
 and properly. The opinion of JMirabcau, who was said to have been 
 gained by tiie court, was known beforehand. Tl^e opportunity was 
 favourable for wresting from the orator his much-envied popularity. 
 
 • See L' Armoire de Fcr, No. 25. Letter from Caloune to the Kiii^r. dated Apri. 
 
 • See what IMadame de Stae) says in her Considerations sur la Rdcolutinn Fra^ 
 
144 HlSTOllY OF THE 
 
 The Larnetlis were aware of tliis, and liad charged Barnave to crush 
 Blirabeau. I'lie right side drew back, as it were, and left the field 
 clear for those two rivals. 
 
 The discussion was awaited witli impatience : it commenced. 
 After several speakers had thrown out merely preliminary ideas, Mi- 
 rabeau addressed the Assembly, and placed the question in a new 
 light. War, according to liim, is almost always unforeseen. Hostil- 
 ities conimence before tlireats. The King, cliarged with the puhlio 
 safety, ought to repel tliem, and thus war is begun before the Assembly 
 has time to interfere. The same is the case with treaties. The Kin^r 
 alone can seize the proper moment for negotiating, for conferring, for 
 disputing with otiier jiowers ; the Assendjly can but ratify the condi- 
 tions obtained. In either predicament, tlic King alone can act, and the 
 Assembly approve or disapprove. IMirabeau therefore thought that the 
 executive power should be held bound to prosecute the hostilities 
 commenced, and that the legislative power should, as the case mi^lit 
 be, allow the war to continue, or demand peace. 
 
 This opinion was applauded, because IMirabeau's opinion always 
 was. Barnave nevertheless rose, and, without noticing the other 
 speakers, merely answered IMirabeau. lie admitted that tlie sword 
 is frequently drawn before the nation can be consulted, but he main- 
 tained that hostilities are not war; that the King ought to repel them, 
 and, as speedily as possible, to apprize the Assembly, which then, as 
 sovereign, declares its own intentions. Thus the whole difference lay 
 in the words, for IMirabeau gave to the Assembly the right of disapprov- 
 ing the war, and requiring peace, Barnave that of alike declaring both ; 
 but in either case the decision of the Assembly Avas to be obligatory, 
 and Barnave allowed it no more rif>iit than Mirabeau. Barnave was 
 nevertheless applauded and carried in triumph by the populace, and 
 it was alleged tliat his adversary was sold. A pamphlet, entided 
 " Great Treason of the Count de IMirabeau," was hawked about the 
 streets with loud cries. The occasion was decisive ; every one ex- 
 pected an effort from the terrible champion. He demanded permis- 
 sior to reply, obtained it, ascended the tribune in the presence of an 
 immense multitude assembled to hear him, and declared, as he went 
 up to it, that he would come down again either dead or victorious. 
 " I too," he began, " have been borne in triumph, and yet they are 
 crying to-day, the great treason of the Count de Mirahcati. I needed 
 not this example to learn that it is but a step from the Capitol to the 
 Tarpeian rock. Yet these strokes from below shall not stop me in 
 my career." After this impressive exordium, he intimated that he 
 should reply to Barnave only, and he thus proceeded : " Explain your- 
 self," said he to him ; "you have in your opinion limited the King to 
 tlie notification of hostilities, and you have given to the Assembly 
 alone the right of declaring the national will on that point. There I 
 stop you, and recal you to our principles, which sliare the expression 
 
 of the national will between the Assembly and the King In 
 
 attributing it to the Assembly alone, you have ti'ansgrcssed against 
 the constitution. I call you to order . . . You answer not .... I 
 fthall continue." 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 145 
 
 J\o answer could in fact be given. Throughout a long reply, Bar- 
 nave remained exposed to these thundering apostrophes. Mirabeau 
 answered him article by article, and demonstrated that Barnave had 
 not given to the Assembly any thing more than he had himself given 
 to it ; but that, by limiting the King to a mere notification, he had de- 
 prived him of his necessary concurrence in the expression of the na- 
 tional will. He concluded by reproaching Barnave with those culpa 
 ble rivalries between men, who, lie said, ought to live like true com 
 rades in arms. Barnave had enumerated the partisans of his opinion, 
 Mirabeau in his turn mentioned his. He pointed out among thera 
 those moderate men, the first founders of the constitution, and who 
 talked to the French of liberty, while his base calumniators were 
 sucking tlie milk of courts, (alluding to the Lameths, wiio had received 
 fovours from the Queen,) " men," added he, " who will boast while 
 they live of their friends and of their enemies." 
 
 Mirabeau's speech gained unanimous applause. There was in the 
 Assembly a considerable number of deputies who belonged neither 
 to the right nor to the left side, but who, without espousing any par- 
 ty, decided upon tlie impression of the moment. It was they who 
 gave the victory to genius and reason, because they created a majori- 
 ty on which side soever they voted. Barnave would have rcphed ; 
 the Assembly opposed his intention, and insisted that the question 
 should be put to the vote. The decree of Mirabeau, ably amended by 
 Chapelier, had the preference, and was finally adopted to the general 
 satisfaction; for these rivalries did not extend beyond tlie circle in 
 which they originated, and the popular party conceived that it con- 
 quered just as well with Mirabeau as witJi the Lameths. 
 
 The decree conferred on tlie King and the nation the right of 
 making peace and war. To the King was assigned the disposal of 
 the forces. He was to notify the commencement of hostilities ; to call 
 together the Assembly if it was not sitting, and to propose the de- 
 cree of peace or war. The Assembly was to deliberate o.n his ex- 
 press proposition, and the King was afterwards to sanction its deliber- 
 ation. It was Chapelier, who, by a very judicious amendment, had 
 required the express proposition and the definitive sanction. This 
 decree, conformable with reason, and with the principles already es- 
 tabhshed, excited sincere joy among the constitutionalists, and foolish 
 hopes among the counter-revolutionists, who imagined that the pub- 
 lic mind was about to change, and that this victory of Mirabeau was 
 to become their own. Laf;^iyette, who, on this occasion, had joined 
 Mirabeau, wrote on the subject to Bouill6, held out to him hopes of 
 tranquillity and moderation, and strove, as he always did, to reconcile 
 him to the new order of things. 
 
 The Assembly continued'' its financial labours. They consisted 
 in disposing to the best advantage of the property of the clergy, the 
 sale of which, long decreed, could not be prevented, either by pro- 
 tests, or by pastoral charges, or by intrigues. To dispossess a too 
 powerful body of a great portion of the territory of the kingdom — 
 to divide it in the best possible manner, so as to fertilize it by division ; 
 to make landed proprietors of a considerable portion of the people 
 
 VOL. 1. — 19 
 
140 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 who were not such ; lastly, to extinguish by the same operation the 
 debts of the state and to restore order in tlie finances — such were the 
 objects of the Assembly, and it wad too sensible of their utility to be 
 deterred by obstacles. The Assembly had already ordered the sale 
 of crown and church property to tlie amount of four hundred millions, 
 but it was necessary to find means to dispose of these possessions 
 without lowering their value by putting them up to sale ail at once. 
 Bailly proposed, in the nanje of the municipality of Paris, a plan 
 that was ably conceived, namely, to transfer these possessions to the 
 municipalities, which should purchase them in a mass, for the pur- 
 pose of selling them again by degrees, so that the sales of the whole 
 might not take place at once. The municipalities not having funds 
 to pay immediately, should give bills at a certain date, and the cre- 
 ditors of the state were to be paid with bons on communes, which 
 they were required to pay off in succession. These bons, which in 
 the discussion were called municipal paper, furnished the first idea of 
 the assignats. 
 
 In following up Cailly's plan, the Church property was invaded; 
 it was to be divided among the communes, and the creditors were to 
 be brought nearer to their pledge by acquiring a claim upon the mu- 
 nicipalities, instead of having a claim upon the state. The guaran- 
 tees would therefore be augmented, since the payment was to be 
 brought nearer ; it would even depend upon the creditors to effect 
 it themselves, since with these bons or assignats they could acquire a 
 proportionable value in property put up to sale. Thus a great deal 
 would have been done for ihem. But this is not all. They might 
 not choose to convert their bons into land, either from scruples or 
 from any other motive. They would then be obliged to iteep their 
 bons, which, as they could not circulate like money, would be mere 
 unpaid obligations. There remained but one more measure to be 
 taken, which was, to give to these bons or obligations the faculty of 
 circulation. They would then become really and truly money, and 
 the creditors, being enabled to pay with them, would be actually re- 
 imbursed. Another consideration was decisive. There was a scar- 
 city of specie. This Avas attributed to the emigration which carried 
 away a great deal of ready money, to the payments that had to be 
 made to foreigners, and lastly to malevolence. The real cause was 
 the want of confidence occasioned by the disturbances. Specie is 
 apparent by the circulation. When confidence prevails, the activit^r 
 of the exchange is extreme ; money moves about rapidly, is seen 
 every where, and is believed to be more considerable because it is 
 more serviceable ; but when political commotions create alarm, capi- 
 tal languishes, specie moves slowly ; it is frequently hoarded, and 
 complaints are unjustly made of its absence. 
 
 The desire to provide a substitute for metallic specie, which the 
 Assembly considered scarce, by putting into the hands of the credit- 
 ors, something better than a dead obligation, and the necessity of 
 supplying a multitude of other urgent wants, caused the forced curren- 
 cy of money to be given to these bons or assignats. The creditor waa 
 thereby paid, since he could oblige others to take the paper which he 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 147 
 
 had received, and thus supply all his wants. If he did not choose to 
 purchase lands, those who had taken the circulating paper of him 
 would eventually buy them. Tlie assigiiats which sliould come in 
 by this method were to be burned ; thus tlie lands of the clergy 
 would soon be distributed, and the paper suppressed. The assignats 
 bore interest at so much per day, and acquired value by remauiing 
 in the hands of those who held them. 
 
 The clergy, viewing this measure as an instrument of execution 
 against its possessions, strongly opposed it. Its noble and other allies, 
 adverse to every thing that facilitated the progress of the revolution, 
 opposed it also and cried out against paper-money. The name of 
 Law was brought forward, and the memory of his bankruptcy re- 
 vived. The comparison, however, was not just, because the value 
 of Law's paper-money depended on tlie profits to be gained by the 
 India Company, wliile that of the assignats was founded on a territo- 
 rial capital, real and easily convertible. Law had committed consid- 
 erable frauds on the court, and had greatly exceeded the presumed 
 amount of the Company's capital. The Assembly, on the contrary, 
 could not believe that, with the new forms which it had just establish- 
 ed, such errors could take place. Lastly, the amount of the asisig- 
 nats created, formed but a very small portion of the capital allotted 
 to them. But it is true enough that paper, however safe, is not like 
 money, a reality, or according to Bailly's expression, " a physical ac- 
 tuality." Specie carries its own value along with it. Paper, on the 
 contrary, requires one more operation, a purchase of land, a realiza- 
 tion. It must therefore be below specie, and as soon as it is below 
 it, money, which nobody will give for paper, is hoarded, and at length 
 disappears. If, moreover, abuses in the administration of the pro- 
 perty, and in moderate issues of paper, destroy the proportion be- 
 tween the circulating medium and the capital, confidence vanishes ; 
 the nominal value is retained, but tlie real value ceases ; he who gives 
 this conventional money robs him who receives it, and a great crises 
 ensues. All this was possible enough, and with more experience 
 would have appeared certain. As a financial measure, the issue of 
 assignats was therefore highly censurable; but it was necessary as a 
 political measure ; for it supplied urgent wants, and divided property 
 without the aid of an agrarian law. The Assembly, therefore, had 
 no reason to hesitate ; and, in spite of Maury and ids partisans, it 
 decreed four hundred millions of forced assio-nats with interest. 
 
 Neckcr had lon<r since lost the confidence of the Kin<T^, the former 
 deference of his colleagues, aud the enthusiasm of the nation.* 
 
 * " In passing through Geneva, the First Consii. iiad an interview with M. Neck 
 er. I know not how it happened, but at the time he did not speak lo me nf this in- 
 terview. However, I was curious to know what he thought of a man who had ac 
 quired so much celebrity in Fratjce. One evening, when we were talking, nrst of 
 one thing, and then of another, I managed to turn the conversation on th.it subject. 
 " M. Necker," said he, " appears to nie very far below his reputation. He did not 
 equal the idea I had formed of him. I tried all I could to get him to talk, but ho 
 said nothing remarkable. He is an ideologist — a banker. It is impossible that such 
 a man, can have any but narrow views; and besides, all celebrated people lose on a 
 close view." — Bourrienn&'s Memoirs of Napoleon. E. 
 
143 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Engrossed by his calculations he sometimes entered into dlscussioa 
 with the Assembly. His reserve for extraordinary expenses occasion* 
 ed a demand for the production of the red book, the famous register, 
 containing, it was said, a list of all the secret disbursements. Louis 
 XVI. complied with pain, and caused seals to be put upon the leaves 
 in which were entered the expenses of his predecessor, Louis XV. 
 Tlie Assembly respected his delicacy, and confined itself to the ex- 
 penditure of the current reign. Nothing personally concerning the 
 King was found. Every prodigality had been for the benefit of cour- 
 tiers. The Lameths were found down for a gratuity of sixty thou- 
 sand francs, granted by the Queen for their education. They sent 
 back that sum to the public exchequer. The pensions were reduced 
 according to the twofold proportion of services and the former con- 
 dition of the persons. The Assembly showed in every point tlie great- 
 est moderation. It petitioned the King to fix the civil list himself, 
 and it voted by acclamation the twenty-five millions which he de- 
 manded. 
 
 The Assembly, strong in its number, in its intelligence, in its pow- 
 er, in its resolutions, had conceived the immense plan of regenerating 
 all the departments of the state, and it had just framed the new ju- 
 dicial system. It had distributed the courts in the same manner as 
 the local administrations, by districts and departments. The judges 
 were left to the popular election. This last measure had been strong- 
 ly opposed. Political metapliysics had been again enlisted on this 
 occasion to prove that the judicial power was dependent on the execu- 
 tive, and that the King ought to appoint the judges. Reasons had 
 been found on both sides ; but the only one that should have been 
 given to the Assembly, which was on the point of making a mon- 
 archy, was that royalty, successively stripped of its prerogatives, be- 
 comes a mere magistracy, and the state a republic. But to say what 
 monarchy was would have been too bold, requiring concessions which 
 a nation never consents to make in the first moment of its awaking. 
 The fault of nations is to demand either too much or nothing. The 
 Assembly sincerely wished well to tlie King ; it was full of deference 
 for him, and manifested it on every occasion ; but it was attached to 
 the person, and, without being aware of it, destroyed the thing. 
 
 After introducing this uniformity into the law, and the administra- 
 tion, the Assembly had still to regulate the service of religion, and to 
 organize it like all the other systems. Thus, when it had estabhshed 
 a court of appeal and a superior administration in every department, 
 it was natural to place there a bishopric also. How, indeed, could 
 certain episcopal sees be suffered to comprehend fifteen hundred 
 square leagues, whilst others embraced but twenty ; — certain livings 
 to be ten leagues in circumference, whilst others numbered scarcely 
 fifteen houses ; and certain cures to have at the utmost but seven hun 
 drcd iivres, whilst there were beneficed ecclesiastics, who possessed 
 incomes often and fifteen thousand Iivres ] 
 
 The Assembly, in reforming abuses, was interfering neither with 
 the doctrines of the Church, nor with the pnpal authority, since the 
 circumscriptions had always belonged to the temporal power. It de 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 149 
 
 termined, therefore, to form a new division, and to subject, as of old 
 both cures and bishops to the popular election. Here it was encroach- 
 ing on the temporal power alone, since it was the King who chose, 
 and the Pope who instituted the ecclesiastical dignitaries. This plan, 
 which was called the civil constitution of the clergy, and which drew 
 upon the Assembly more calumny than any thing it had yet done, 
 was nevertheless the work of the most pious deputies. It was Camus, 
 and other Jansenists, who, desirous of invigorating religion in the 
 state, strove to bring it into harmony with the new laws. It is cer- 
 tain that, justice being every where else re-established, it would have 
 been stranfje had it not also been introduced into the ecclesiastical 
 administration. With the exception of Camus, and some others of 
 his stamp, the members of the Assembly, educated in the school of 
 the philosophers, would have treated Christianity like all other reli- 
 gions admitted into the state, and would not have bestowed a thought 
 upon it. They entertained sentiments which in our present social 
 state it is usual Jiot to combat, even when we do not share them. 
 They supported therefore the religious and sincerely Clu'istian plan 
 of Camus. The clergy opposed it, alleging that it encroaciied on 
 the spiritual authority of the Pope, and appealed to Rome. The 
 principal basds of the ])lan were nevertheless adopted, and immedi- 
 ately presented to the King, who asked for time that he might I'cfer 
 to the hi<'-h Pontiff. The Kinir, whose enliq-htcned reliirion reco":- 
 nised the wisdom of this plan, wrote to the Pope, with a sinceie de- 
 sire of obtaining his assent, and thus overthrowing all the ol>jections 
 of the clergy. We shall presently see what intrigues prevented the 
 success of his wishes. 
 
 The month of July approached. It was nearly a year since the 
 T>astile was taken, since the nation had seized all power, since it had 
 announced its intentions by the Assembly, and executed them itself, 
 or caused them to be executed under its superintendence. Tlie I4th 
 of July was considered as the day which had commenced a new era, 
 and it was resolved that its anniversary should be celebrated with 
 i^reat festivity. The provinces and the towns had already set the ex- 
 ample of confederating, to resist with united strength the enemies of 
 the Revolution. The municipality of Paris proposed for the 14th of 
 Tuly a nreneral federation of all France, which should be celebrated in 
 the heart of the capital by the deputies of all the national guards and 
 of all the corps of the army. This plan was hailed with enthusiasm, 
 and immense preparations were made to render the festival worthy 
 of its object. 
 
 Other nations, as we have seen, had long turned their eyes upon 
 France. The sovereigns began to hate and fear, the people to es- 
 teem us. A party of foreign enthusiasts appeared before tlie Assem- 
 bly in the costume of then* respective nations. Their spokesman, 
 Anacharsis Clootz, by birth a I'russian, a man of wayward ima- 
 gination, demanded, in the name of the human race, to be admitted 
 IJito the Federation.* These sc;enes, which appear ridiculous to 
 
 *"J B. De Clootz, a Prussian baron, known since the Revolution by the nana 
 
150 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 those who are not eye-witnesses of them, make a deep impression 
 upon all who are. The Assembly complied with the demand, and tho 
 President replied to these foreigners that they should be admitted, in 
 order that they might be able to relate to their countrymen what they 
 had seen, and to make them acquainted with the joys and the bless- 
 ings of liberty. 
 
 The emotion caused by this scene produced another. An eques- 
 trian statue of Louis XIV. represented him tramphng upon the image 
 of several conquered provinces. " In the days of liberty," exclaim- 
 ed one of the Lameths, " these monuments of slavery ought not to 
 be endured. It is not fit that the people of Franche-Comt6, when 
 they come to Paris, should see their image thus enchained." Maury 
 opposed a measure in itself unimportant, but which it was necessary 
 to concede to the public enthusiasm. At the same moment a mem- 
 ber proposed to abolish the titles of count, marquis, baron, &c. ; to 
 prohibit liveries ; in short, to suppress all hereditary titles. Young 
 Montmorenci seconded the motion. A noble asked what they would 
 substitute for the words, " Such a one was created count for services 
 
 of Anacharsis Clootz, was born at Cleves on the 24th of June, 1755, and became 
 the possessor of a considerable fortune, which he dissipated by hismiscondunt. He 
 was not destitute of abihty, but was half-crazed by his fanatical love of liberty, and 
 his constant habit of poring over the works of German metaphysicians. As he was 
 the nephew of Cornelius Parr, author of several works, he thought he must also be 
 a writer. He travelled in different parts of Europe, and particularly cultivated the 
 society of Burke, v/ho was then a member of the opposition in the English parlia- 
 ment. During the French Revolution, Clootz made himself notorious by the ab- 
 surd extravagance of his conduct. Tiie masquerade, known by the name of the 
 ' Embassy of the Human Race,' was the first scene in which he attracted attention. 
 He appeared on the 19th of June, 1790, at the bar of the National Assembly, follow- 
 ed by a considerable body of Parisian porters in foreign dresses, whom he presented 
 as deputies from all nations. He styled himself the ' Orator of the human race,' and 
 requested to be admitted to the Federation, which was agreed to. On the 22d of Jan- 
 uary, 1792, he wrote a letter to the Legislative Assembly, beginning thus : ' The ora- 
 tor of the human race to the legislature of the human race sends greeting.' On the 
 21st of April he delivered a ridiculous tirade at the bar relative to the declaration of 
 war against the King of Hungary and Bohemia ; proposed to the Assembly to adhere 
 for a year to a strict regimen ; and ended by offering, what he called, a patriotic gift 
 of twelve thousand livrcs. He in consequence obtained the honour of a seat among 
 the members. On the 12th of August he came to congratulate the Assembly on 
 the events of the 10th, and offered to raise a Prussian legion. On the 27th, he beg- 
 ged the Assembly to seta price on the heads of the King of Prussia and the Duke 
 of Brunswick, and delivered a long speech, in which the following expressions oc- 
 curred : ' Charles IX. had a successor ; Louis will have none,' — ' You know how 
 to vaUie the heads of phdosophcrs ; a price yet remains to be set on those of ty- 
 rants.' — 'My heart is French, and my soul sans-culotte.' The hatred of this fanatic 
 against the Christian religion was as fervent as that which he entertained against the 
 monarchy. In September, 1793, he was deputed from the Oise to the Convention, 
 v/here he voted for the death of Louis XVL in the name of the human race ! In the 
 same year he published a work entitled ' The Universal Republic,' wherein he hid 
 it down as a principle ' that the people was the sovereign of the world — nay, 
 that it was God!' — ' that fools alone believed in a Supreme Being !' &c. He soon 
 afterwards fell under the suspicion of Robespierre, was arrested as a Hcbertist, and 
 condemned to death on the 24th of March, 1794. He died with great firmness, and, 
 on hia way to execution, lectured Hebert on materialism, * to prevent him,' as he 
 said, ' from yielding to religious feelings in his last moments.' He even asked io 
 be executed after all his accomplices, in order that he might have time ' to establish 
 Certain principles during the fall of their heads.' " — Biogruplne Moderne E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 151 
 
 rendered to the stated' — "Let it merely be said," replied Lafayette, 
 " that on such a day such a person saved the state." The motion 
 was carried, notwithstanding the extraordinary irritation of the no- 
 bility, which was more galled by the abolition of its titles than by the 
 more substantial losses which it had sustained since the commence- 
 ment of the Revolution. The more moderate portion of the Assem- 
 bly liad proposed tiiat, in abolishing titles, those who chose to retain 
 them, should be at liberty to do so. Lafayette lost no time in appri- 
 sing tiie court before the decree was sanctioned, and advised tliat it 
 should be sent back to the Assembly, which would consent to amend 
 it ; but the King instantly gave his sanction, in which some thought 
 they could discover the disingenuous intention of driving things to 
 extremities. 
 
 Tiie object of the Federation was the civic oath. It was discussed 
 whether the federalists and the Assembly should take the oath to the 
 King, or whether the King, considered as tlie highest public function- 
 ary should swear with all the others at the altar of the country. The 
 latter course was preferred. Thus did the Assembly put etiquette in 
 complete harmony with the laws, and the King would be no more in 
 the ceremony than he was in the constitution. 'I'he court, which was 
 constantly conceiving distrust of Lafayette, was alarjned at a rumour 
 that was circulated, purporting that he was about to be appointed 
 commandant of all the national guards of the kingdom. It was but 
 natural that those who did not know Lafayette should feel this dis- 
 trust ; and his enemies, of all paiLies, strove to augment it. How, in 
 fact, could it be supposed, that a nuin possessing such popularity, at 
 the head of a considerable force, would not abuse it ? Nothing, how- 
 ever, was firther from his intention ; he had resolved to be nothing 
 but a citizen, and, whether from virtue or well-judged ambition, the 
 merit is the same. Human pride must be placed somewhere — it i3 
 virtue to place it in doing what is right. 
 
 Lafayette, in order to remove the alarm of the court, proposed that 
 one and the same person sliould not command more than the guard 
 of one department. The motion was carried by acclamation, and 
 the disinterestedness of the general was warmly applauded. La- 
 fayette was nevertheless charged with the whole arrangement of the 
 festival, and appointed chief of the Federation, in his quality of com- 
 mandant of the Parisian gr-^vd. 
 
 Ti»e day approached, and the preparations were carried on with 
 great activity. The ceremony was to take place in the Champ de 
 Mars, a spacious area, extending from the INlilitary School to the 
 bank of the Seine. It had been planned to remove the earth from the 
 centre to the sides, so as to form an amphitheatre capable of contain- 
 ing the mass of spectators. Twelve thousand labourers were kept at 
 work without intermission, and yet it was apprehended that the oper- 
 ations could not be finished by the 14th. The inhabitants then pro- 
 posed to assist the workmen. In an instant the whole population 
 were transformed into labourers. Churchmen, soldiers, persons of 
 all classes, took up the spade and the pickaxe. Elegant females 
 Uiemselves lent a hand. The enthusiasm soon became general. 
 
152 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 The people repaired to the spot by sections, with banners of diffcren; 
 colours, juid to tlie. sound of drums. On arriving:, t!iey mingled and 
 worked together. At nightfall, on a given signal, each rejoined his 
 company, and returned to his home. This fraternal harmony pre- 
 vailed till the work was finished. Meanwhile, the federalists kept 
 arriving, and they were received with the greatest kindness and hos- 
 pitality" The enthusiasm was general, in spite of the alarm which the 
 very suiall number of persons who remained inaccessible to emotions 
 strove to excite. It Avas said that the brigands meant to take ad- 
 vantage of the moment when the people should be at the Federation 
 to plunder the city. It was insinuated that the Duke of Orleans, who 
 had returned from London, entertained sinister designs. The na- 
 tional gayety was nevertheless undiminished, and no faith was put in 
 any of these evil forebodings. 
 
 The 14tli at lengtii arrived. All the federate deputies of the pro- 
 vinces and the army, ranged under their chiefs and their banners, set 
 out from the Place of the Bastille and proceeded to the Tuileries. 
 The deputies of Beam, in passing the Place de la Feronnerie, where 
 Hemy IV. was assassinated, paid him a tribute of respect, which, in 
 this moment of emotion, was expressed by tears. The federalists, on 
 their arrival in the garden of the Tuileries, received into their rajiks the 
 municipality and the Assembly. A battalion of boys, armed like their 
 fathers, preceded the Assembly. A body of old men followed it, and 
 thus revived the memory of ancient Sparta. The procession moved 
 forward amidst the shouts and ajjplause of the people. The quays 
 were lined with spectators. The liouses were covered witli them. A 
 bridge thrown in a few days across the Seine, and strewed with flowers, 
 led from one bank to the other, facing the scene of the Federation. 
 The procession crossed it, and each took his place. A magnificent 
 amphitheatre, formed at the farther extremity, was destined for the 
 national authorities. The King and the president sat beside one an- 
 other on similar seats, sprin-kled with golden fleurs-de-lis. Behind the 
 King there was an elevated balcony for the Queen and the court. 
 The ministers were at some distance from the King, and the deputies 
 ranged on either side. Four hundred tliousand spectators occupied 
 the lateral amphitheatres. Sixty thousand armed federalists performed 
 their evolutions in the intermediate space ; and in the centre, upon a 
 base twenty-five feet high, stood the aUar of the country. Three 
 hundred priests, in white surplices and tricoloured scarfs, covered 
 the steps, and were to officiate in the mass. 
 
 It was three hours before all the federalists had arrived. During 
 this interval the sky was overcast with clouds, and the rain fell in 
 torrents. That sky, whose brightness harmonizes so well with human 
 ioys, refused at this moment serenity and light. One of tlie batta- 
 lions, as it came np, grounded arms, and conceived the idea of form- 
 ing a dance. Its example was instantly followed by all the others, 
 and in a moment the intermediate space was filled by sixty thou- 
 sand men soldiers and citizens opposing gaiety of heart to the un- 
 favourable weather. At length the ceremony commenced. The sky 
 happily cleared, and threw its brilliancy over this solemn scene. Tli6 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. I53 
 
 Bishop of Autun* began the mass. Tlie choristers accompanied 
 the voice of the prelate ; the cannon minrrled with it their solemn 
 peals. Divine service over, Lafayette ahuhted from liis horse, as- 
 cended tiie steps of the tlu-one, and received tlie orders of the Kinfr, 
 who handed to him the form of the oath. Lafayette carried it to the 
 altar. At that moment all tlic banners waved, every sabre glistened. 
 Tlie j2:cneral, the army, the president, the deputies, cried, " I swear 
 it." The King-, standing, with Iiis hand outstretched towards the 
 altar, stvid : " I, King of the French, swear to employ the power dele- 
 gated to me by the constitutional act of the state, in maintaining the 
 constitution decreed by the Xaticnial Asscjnbly, and accepted by me." 
 At this moment, the Queen, moved by the general emotion, clasped 
 in her arms the august child, the heir to the thi-one, and from the bal- 
 cony, where she \vas stationed, showed him to th(3 assembled nation 
 At this movement shouts of joy, attachment^ enthusiasm, Avere ad 
 dressed to the mother and the child, and all hearts uerc hers. At 
 
 1 
 
 H 
 
 " Cli;irl;js IMunrice Tallpyraiul-PiM-igonl, minister for foreign nlTair?!, ci-devant 
 bishop of Aiitiiii, Abbe of Celles and 8t. Deni-S, was born at Paris in 1754, and as 
 deputy (Vol M ttio elerirv of the Iiaihwiclv of Antnn. joined the meeting oftlie commons 
 en th'.' o|triiingof the State;^-(_ieneral. lie combined witli liatnral ability a great fa- 
 cihty of lalioiir and apphcation. His name, his dignities, and his example, operated 
 on a great niimbtjr ol'de'pnties, who were wholly ginded by his cf)niisels. ()n the 
 20lh of'Aiiirti-t, 17SI), Talleyrand procured the adoption of an article concerning tho 
 admission of all citizens, witliunt distinction, to all olHce.s. Three days afterwards, 
 iie opposi^d the mention of divine worship in the declaration of tlie rights of man, 
 and inainlain','d that it was in the constitiuional act that the holy name of the Catholic 
 religion ought to be pronoiniced. In August, October, ainl November, he made 
 speeches on the finances, in one of which he recommended the sale ol'Cliurch property. 
 In Fehntary, 171)0, he composed the fimioiis address to the French, to remind them of 
 what the Nation d A-^sembly iiad already done for them, and still intended to do; and 
 oil the l-lth of July lie celebrated the mass of the Federation. On the 'iUth of De- 
 cemlter, he published an address to the clergy, giving an account of the motives 
 which had induced him to take the constitiitional oath, and exhorting them to fol- 
 low his cxam[)le. In March and November, 17U!, lie joined the Abbe Sieyes in de- 
 feuding the non-juring priests. Having been very intimate with iMirabean, he, in the 
 tribune in Alarch, 17D1, read a long discourse on Inlieritances, which that great 
 statesman had intrusted to him on iiis deathbed, in order that he slioidd conimnni- 
 cate it to the Assembly. Assisted by the Bishops of Lydia and Babylon, Talleyrand 
 consecratiHJ the first bishops who were called constitutional, an act which drew upon 
 him the displeasure of the court of [{.(une. After the session he was sent to England 
 as private negotiator, in order to conclude a treaty of peace between the two nations, 
 but faileil in his negotiation. Terrified at the blood which was so lavishly poured 
 fortli in France, and informed also that after the 10th of August, 17'JJ, papers had 
 been found at the Tnileries which might compromise him, he retired to the United 
 States. After the 9th Thermidor, 1704, he returned to Paris, became a member of 
 tho National Institute, and in 1797 lie entered on the adminstration of foreign alFairs. 
 From that time lie began to acquire great inlluence in the govermnenr, and was one 
 of those wdio contrived the events of the 18th Brumaire. In ISQ'-i, alter the re- 
 establishment of CaUioIic worship in France, the First Consul obtained for Talley- 
 rand a brief from the Pope, which restored iiim to a secular and lay life, aud autho- 
 rized his marriage with ^Irs. Grant." — Biographic Modcrne. 
 
 Talleyrand remained in the administration of foreign allairs, up to the period of 
 the disastrous Russian campaign, when lie began to make secret overtures — at least 
 to it is reported of him by Napoleon's biographers — to the Bourbons. On the Em- 
 peror's downfall, he held office for a time under Louis XYHI., and on the expulsion 
 of Charles X., was appointed ambassador to England by Louis-Philippe. VVitnia 
 the last two years he resigned this appointment, aud now lives in couiparativo re- 
 tirement at his chateaa. E. 
 
 VOL. I. — 20. 
 
154 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 tliis very same moment, all France, assembled in the eighty-three 
 chiel towns of the departments, took the same oath to love the King 
 who would love them. In such moments, hatred itself is softened, 
 pride gives way, all are happy in the general happiness, and proud 
 of tliedignity of all. Why, alas I are these pleasures of concord so 
 soon forgotten ! 
 
 This august ceremony over, the procession returned, and the peo- 
 ple gave themselves up to rejoicings.* These rejoicings lasted several 
 days. A general review of the federalists was held. Sixty thousand 
 men were under arms, and exhibited a magnificent sight, at once 
 military and national. At night Paris was the scene of a charming 
 fete. The principal places of assemblage were the Champs de Ely- 
 sees and the Bastille. On the site of this ancient prison, now con- 
 
 * " 111 spite of plotting aristocrats, lazy, hired spademen, and ahnostof destiny it- 
 self, (for tliere has been much rain), the Clianip de Mars on the 13th of the montli 
 is fairly ready. — The morning comes, cold for a July one, but such a festivity would 
 make Greenland smile. Through every inlet of tJiat national amphitheatre, (for it 
 is a league in circuit,cut with openings at due intervals), floods in the living throng; 
 covers without tumult space after space. Two hundred thousand patriotic nieu, 
 and, twice as good, one hundred thousand patriotic women, all decked and glorified 
 as one can fancy, sit waiting in this Champ de Mars. What a picture, that circle 
 of bright-died life, spread up there on its thirty-seated slope; leaning, one would 
 say, on the thick umbrage of those avenue trees, for the steins of them are hidden 
 by the height; and all beyond it mere greenness of summer earth, with the gleam of 
 waters, or white sparklings of stone edifices. On remotest steeple and invisible village- 
 belfry, stand men with spy-glasses. On the heights of Chaillot are many-coloured, 
 undulating groups; round, and fiir on, over all the circling heights that imbosora 
 Paris, it is as one more or less peopled amphitheatre, which the eye grows dim with 
 measuring. Nay, heights have cannon, and a floating battery of cannon is on the 
 Seine. When eye fails, ear shall serve ; and all France properly is but one amphi- 
 theatre, for ill paved town, and unpaved hamlet, men walk listening, till the muffled 
 thunder sounds audible on their horizon, that they too may begin swearing and firing. 
 But now, to streams of music, come federates enough — for they have assembled on 
 the Boulevard St. Antoine, and come marching through the city, with their eighty- 
 three department banners, and blessings not loud but deep ; comes National Assem- 
 bly and takes seat under its canopy ; cornea Royalty, and takes seat on a throne be- 
 side it. And LaHiyette, on a white charger is here, aivd all the civic functionaries: 
 and the federates form dances till their strictly military evolutions and manceuvres 
 can begin. Task not the pen of mortal to describe them; truant imagination droops 
 — declares that it is not worth while. There is wheeling and sweeping to slow, to 
 quick, and double-quick time. Sieur Motier, or Generalissimo Lafayette — for they 
 are one and the same, and he is General of France in the King's stead for four-and- 
 twenty hours — must step forth with that sublime, chivalrous gait of his; solemnly 
 ascend the steps of the Fatherland's altar, in sight of Heaven and of scarcely-breath- 
 ing earth ; and pronounce the oath, ' To King, to hiw, and nation,' in his own name, 
 and that of armed France. Whereat there is waving of banners, and acclaim suf- 
 ficient. The National Assembly must swear, standing in its place ; the King him- 
 self audibly. The King swears ; and now be the welkin split with vivats ; let citizens 
 enfranchised embrace ia,rmed federates clang their arms; above all, that floating 
 nattery speak I It has spoken — to the four corners of France ! From eminence to 
 eminence bursts the thunder, fuint heard, loud repeated. From Arras to Avignon— 
 from Metz to Bayonne ! Over Orleans and Blois it rolls, in cannon recitative ; Puy 
 bellows of it amid his granite mountains; Fan, where is the shell-cradle of great 
 Henri. At far Marseilles, one can think, the ruddy evening witnesses it; over the 
 deep blue Mediterranean waters, the castle of If, ruddy-tinted, darts forth from every 
 cannon's mouth its tongue of fire; and all the people shout — Yes, France is free' 
 Glorious France, that has burst out so, into universal sound and smoke ; and atttuned 
 — tlie Phrygian cap of liberty !" — Catbjle's " French Revolution." E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 155 
 
 verted into cin open square, was set up this inscription: "Place 
 for dancing." Brilliant lamps arranged in festoons, made amends 
 for the daylight. Opulence had been forbidden to annoy this quiet 
 file by the movement of carriages. Each was expected to make 
 himself one of the people, and to feel happy in being so. Tlie 
 Champs Elys6es exhibited a touching scene. I'here every one walk- 
 ed about without noise, without tumult, without rivalry, without ani- 
 mosity. All classes intermingled, enjoyed themselves beneath the mild 
 lamp-hght, and seemed delighted to he together. Thus, even in the 
 bosom of ancient civilization, men seemed to liave found anew the 
 times of primitive fraternity. 
 
 The federalists after attending the imposing discussions of the Na- 
 tional Assembly, after witnessing the pomp of the court, and the 
 magnificence of Paris, after experiencing the kindness of the King, 
 whom they all visited, and by whom they were received with touch- 
 ing expressions of benevolence, returned home in transports of in- 
 toxication, full of good feelings and illusions. After so many pain- 
 ful events, and while preparing to describe others still more terrible, 
 the historian dwells with pleasure on these too transient scenes, where 
 all hearts iiad but one sentiment, love for the public weal.* 
 
 * I h'lve already quoted some pages of the Memoirs of Ferricres relative to the 
 first silting of the Stales-General. As nothing is more important than to ascertain 
 the real sentiiinMits whicli the Rovohuion excited, I think it right to give the descrip- 
 tion of the Federation hy the same Ferricres. We shall see if this enthusiasm w;i3 
 genuine, if it was connininicative, aud if tiiat Revolution was so iiideous as some 
 have wished to make it appear. 
 
 " 3Ieanwhi!e the federalists were arriving from all parts of the empire. They 
 were lodged in the houses of private individuals, who cheerfully supplied beds, lin- 
 en, wood, and all that could contriluUe to render their stay in the capital agreeable 
 and comfortable. The municipality took precautions that so great an iiiflu.x of stran- 
 gers might not disturb the public tranquillity. Twelve thousand labourers worked 
 nicessantly at preparing the Cliamp de ftJars. Notwithstanding the activity with 
 which the operations was prosecuted, they advanced but slowly. It was feared that 
 they could not be completed by the 14th of July, the day irrevocably li.xed for the 
 ceremony, because it was the famous epoch of the insurrection of Paris, and of the 
 taking of the Bastille. In this per]>lexity, tlie districts, in the name of the country, 
 invited the good citizens to assist the workmen. Tliis civic invitation electrified ail 
 heads; the women shared and ])ropagated the enthusiasm; seininarests, scholars, 
 nuns of the order called ScEurs dii Put, Carthusians grown old in solitude, were seen 
 quitting their cloisters, hurrying to the Champ de Mars, with shovels upon tlieir 
 shoulders, bearing banners adorned with patriotic emblems. There all the citizens 
 collected, blended together, formed an immense and incessantly moving mass of la- 
 bourers, every point of which presented a varied group : the dishevelled courtesan 
 is placed beside the modest matron, the Capuchin draws the truck with the chevalier 
 of St. Louis; the porter and thepe/if-wflifrc of the Palais Royal ; ihs sturdy fishvvoman 
 drives the wheelbarrow filled by the hands of the delicate and nervous lady ; wealthy 
 people, indigent people, well-dressed people, ragged people, old men, boys, come- 
 dians, Ccnf-ii«isscs, clerks, working and resting, actors and spectators, exhibited to the 
 astonished eye a scene full of life and bustle; movitig taverns, portable sliops, in- 
 creased the charm and gayety of this vast and exhilarating picture; songs, shouts of 
 joy, the sound of drum? and military instruments, that of spades and wheelbarrows, 
 
 the voices of the labourers calling to and encouraging one another Tlie 
 
 mind I'ult sinking under the weight of a delicious intoxication at the sight of a whole 
 people who nad descended again to the sweet sentiments of a primitive fraternity- . . 
 As soon as the clock struck nine, the groups separated. Each citizen repaired to 
 the station of his section, returned to his family, to iiis acquaintance. The bands 
 marched olTto the sound of drums, returned to Paris, preceded by torches, indui 
 
156 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Tliis touchiniT festival of the federation was but a fugitive eniotiorv 
 On the morrow, all hearts still wished what they had wished the da}/ 
 before, and the war had recommenced. Petty quarrels with the min- 
 istry again began. Complaints were made that a passage had been 
 
 ging from lime to time in sallies against the aristocrats, and singing the celebrated air, 
 Ca ira. 
 
 At length the 14th of July the day of the Federation, arrived, amidst the hopes of some, 
 and the alarms and terrors of others. If this grand ceremony had not the serious and 
 ang(i?t character of a festival at once national and religious, a character almost incom- 
 patible with the French spirit, it displayed that lively and delightful image of joy and 
 enthusiasm a thousand times more touching. The federalists, ranged by departments 
 under eighty-three banners, set out from the site of the Bastille ; the deputies of the 
 troops of the line and of the navy, the Parisian national guard, drums, bands ofmu- 
 sic, the colours of the sections, opened and closed the procession. 
 
 "The federalists passed through the rues St. Martin, St. Denis, and St. Honore, 
 and proceeded by the Cours la Reine to a bridge of boats constructed across the 
 river. They were greeted by the way with the acclamations of an immense con- 
 course, which filled the streets, the windows of the houses, and the quays. The 
 heavy rain which was falling neither deranged nor slackened the march. Drippiitg 
 with wet and perspiration, the federalists danced farandoles, shotiting, "Long live 
 our brethren, the Parisians!" Wine, ham, fruit, sausages, were let down from the 
 windows for them ; they were loaded with blessings. The National Assembly joined 
 the procession at the Place Louis XV., and walked between the battalion of the vet- 
 erans and that of the young pupils of the country — an expressive image, v;hich 
 seemed to concentrate in itself alone all ages and all interests. 
 
 " The road leading to the Champ de Mars was covered with people, who clapped 
 their hands and sang Ca ira. The Q,uai de Chaillot and the heights of Passy pre- 
 sented a long ampliitheatre, where the elegant dresses, tlie channs, the graces, oftho 
 women, enchanted the eye, without allowing it the faculty of dwelling upon any por- 
 tion of the scene in preference. The rain continued to fall; nobody seemed to per- 
 ceive it ; French gayety triumphed both over the bad weather, the bad roads, and the 
 length of the march. 
 
 "JM. de Lafayette, mounted on a superb horse, and surrounded by his aides-de- 
 camp, gave orders and received the homage of the people and the federalists. The 
 perspiration trickled from his face. A man, whom nobody knew, pushed through 
 the crowd, and advanced, holding a bottle in one hand and a glass in the other 
 " General," said he, " you are hot ; take a class." Raising his bottle, he filled a large 
 glass and handed it to M. de Lafayette. The general took the glass, eyed the stran- 
 ger foi a moment, and drank off the wine at a draught. The people applauded 
 Lafayette, with a smile of complaisance, cast a benevolent and confiding look upon 
 the multitude, and that look seemed to say, ' I shall never conceive any suspicion, I 
 Bhall never feel any uneasiness, so long as I am in the midst of you.' 
 
 " Meanwhile, more than three hundred thousand persons, of both sexes, from 
 Paris and the environs, assembled ever since six in the morning in the Champ de 
 JIars, sitting on the turf-seats, which formed an immense circus, drenched, draggled, 
 sheltering themselves with parasols from the torrents of rain which descended upon 
 them, at the least ray of sunshine adjusting their dresses, waited, laughing, and chat- 
 ting, for the federalists and the National Assembly. A .spacious amphitheatre 
 had been erected for the King, the royal family, the ambassadors and the deputies. 
 The federalists, who first arrived, began to dance farandoles ; those who followed 
 joined them, forming a round which soon embraced partof the Champ de Mars. A 
 eight worthy of the philosophic observer was that exhibited by this host of men, 
 wlio had come from the most opposite parts of France, hurried away by the impulse 
 of the national character, banishing all remembrance of the past, all idea of the pre- 
 eent, all fear of the future, mdulging in a delicious thoughtlessness, and three hun- 
 dred thousand spectators, of all ages, of both sexes, following their motions, beating 
 tunc with their hands, forgetting the rain, hunger, and the weariness of long waiting. 
 At length, the whole j^rocession having entered the Champ de Mars, the dance ceas- 
 ed, each federalist repaired to his batmcr. The Bishop of Autun prepared to per- 
 form ina'^s at an altar in the antique style, erected in the centre of the Champ de Mars, 
 Three hn.»jdred priests in white surplices, girt with broad tricoloured scarfs, ranged 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. l57 
 
 granted to tlie Austrian troops into tlic country of Lie^c. St. Priosi 
 was charg-ed with liavinnr favoured tiie escape of several accused per- 
 sons, wlu-j were suspected of counter-revolutionary maciiinations. 
 Th© court, out of revenge, again placed in the order of the day, the 
 
 their selvefi at the four corners of the altar. The Bishop of Autun blessed the ori 
 aamme and the eiL'hty-tliree banners: he slriujk up the TeDeum. Twelve hnndred 
 musicians played that hymn. Lafayette, at the head of the staff of (he Parisian mi- 
 litia, and of the deputies of tiie army and navy, went np to the altar, and swore, in 
 the name of ttie troops and the federalist^, to be faithful to the nation, to the law, 
 and to the Kin?. A discharge of four pieces of cannon proclaimed to France this 
 so emn oath. The twelve hundred musicians rout tlie air with military tunes; the 
 colours, tlie banners, waved ; the drawn sahres glistened. The president of the Na- 
 rionai Assembly repeated the same oath. The people and the deputies answered 
 "With shouts of / sicr.ar it. The King then rose, and in a loud voice, said, * /, 
 King of the French, siccar to cwploif the poxcer dilrgnl/'d to mt hy t!i<t constilulional act 
 of tlie state, in maintaining the constitution ihcrccd Inj tlie National Assonhhj, and accent' 
 cd hy mc.'' The Queen, taking the dauphin in ber arms, held him up to the people, 
 and said, ' Here is my son; he joins as well as myself in those sentiments.' This un- 
 expected movement wa.s repaid by a thousand shouts of Jlre le Eoi! vive la Rcine' 
 vivc M. le Dauphin! Tlie cannon continued to mingle their majestic voices with 
 the warlike sounds of military instruments, and the acclamations of the people. 
 The weather jiad cleared up ; (he sun burst fordi in all its splendour; it seemed as 
 if it had pleased Gorl liimsr'lf to witness this mutual contract, and to ratify it by 
 
 his jiresenco Yes, lie did both see and. hear it. and the terrible calamitiea 
 
 which, ever since that day, have not ceased (o dcsnlate France, — O Providence, 
 ever active and ever fiithfiil ! — are the just punishment of perjury. Thou hast 
 stricken bo(h the monarch and the <=;u!ijects who violated their oath! 
 
 " The enthusiasm and the festivities were not confined to (he day of the Federa- 
 tion. During the stay of the federalists at Pari."!, there was one continued .scries of en- 
 lertainments, of dances, and of rejoicings. Peop/e again went to the Champ de Mar.s, 
 where they drank, sang, and danceii. 31. de Lalayetle reviewed part of the national 
 guard of the departments anrl the army of fbe line. The Kin<r, the Queen, and the 
 daupliin, were present at ihi.'* review. They were jjreeted with acclama(ions. The 
 Queen, witli a gracious look, £rave the federalists her hand to kiss, and showed them the 
 dauphin. The federalists, before they quitted tlie capital, went tc pay their homage to 
 the King; all of theui testified the most |"»rofound respect, the warmest attachment. 
 The chief of the Bretons dropped on hiskuee, and presented bis sword to Louis XVI, 
 ' Sire, 'said he, ' I deliver to you pure andsncreil, the sword of the faithful Bretons: it 
 shall never be stained but with tlie blood of your enemies.' — ' That sword cannot be in 
 better hands than those of my dear Bretons,' replied Louis XVI., raising the chief 
 of the Bretons, and returning to him bis sword. ' I have never doubled their affec 
 lion and fidelity. Assure them, that I am the father, the brother, the friend, of al 
 the French.' The King, deeply moved, pressed the hand of the chief of the Bre- 
 tons, and embraced him. A mutual emotion prolonged for some moments this 
 touching scene. The chief of the Bretons was the first to speak. ' Sire,' said he, 
 ' all the French, if I may judge from our hearts, love and will love yon, because you 
 nre a citizen king.' 
 
 "The municipality of Paris resolved also to give an entertainment to the federal- 
 ist.s. There were a re^ratta on the river, fireworks, illumination, ball and refresli- 
 ments in the Halle au Blc, and a ball on the site of the Bastille. At the entrance of 
 the enclosure was an inscription, in lar^re let(er.s, Ici l'on d,\nse (Dancing here). 
 Happy assemldage, which formed a striking contrast with the antique image ofhorror 
 and despair called forth by the recollection of (hat odious prison! The people went 
 to and from one of these places to the other without any impediment. The police, 
 by prohibiting the circul.ilion of carriaires, prevented the accidents so common 
 in public festivities, as well as the tumultuousnoiso ofborses, and wheels, andshouts of 
 Garc (Take care) — a noise wdiich wearies and slurs the citizens, makes them every 
 moment afraid of being run over, and »ives to the most splendid and best-regulated 
 ptc the appearance of a Hiirht. Public festivities are essentially for the people. It 
 IS tliey alone who ought to be considered. If the lich are desirous of sharing their 
 Oieasures let them out themse.ives on a level with the people for tha^ day; to b» 
 
J5S HISTORY OF THE 
 
 proceedings commenced at the Cliattelet against the authors of the 
 disturbances of the 5th and 6th of October. The Duke of Orleans 
 and Mirabeau were imphcated in them. These singular proceedings, 
 several times relinquished and resumed, betrayed the different influ- 
 ences under which they had been carried on. They were full of con- 
 tradictions, and present no sufficient charge against the two principal 
 persons accused. The court, in conciliating Mirabeau, had never- 
 theless no settled plan in regard to him. It approached and with- 
 drew from him by turns, and sought rather to appease him than to 
 
 follow his advice. 
 
 In renewing the proceedings of the 5th and 6th of October, it was 
 not at him that it aimed, but at the Duke of Orleans, who had 
 been much applauded on his return from London, and whom it had 
 harshly repulsed, when he begged to be again taken into favour by the 
 King. Chabroud was to report to the Assembly, that it might judge 
 whether there was ground or not for the accusation. The court was 
 desirous that Mirabeau should keep silence, and that he should aban- 
 don the Duke of Orleans, against whom alone it bore a grudge. He 
 nevertheless spoke, and showed how ridiculous were the imputations 
 thrown out against him. lie was accused, in fact, of having apprized 
 Mounier that Paris was marching upon Versailles, and of having 
 added this expression : " We want a king, but no matter whether it 
 be Louis XVI, or Louis XVII. ; of having gone through the Flanders 
 regiment, sword in hand, and exclaimed at the moment of the 
 
 departure of the Duke of Orleans: 'this J • . ./ is not 
 
 worth the trouble that is taken about him.' " Nothing could be 
 more frivolous than such allegations. Mirabeau showed their weak- 
 ness and absurdity, said but a few words respecting the Duke of 
 Orleans, and exclaimed, when concluding: " Yes, the secret of these 
 infernal proceedings is at length laid bare ; it is yonder whole and 
 entire (pointing to the right side) ; it is to be found in the interest of 
 those whose evidence and whose calumnies have formed their tissue; 
 it is in the resources which they have furnished to the enemies of the 
 
 doing they will gain sensations o which they are strangers, and will not disturb the 
 joy of their fellow-citizens. 
 
 '* It was ill the Champs Elysees that persons of feeling enjoyed more satisfactorily 
 this charming popular festival. Columns of lights hung from every tree, and fes- 
 laoiis of lamps connected them together; pyramids of fire, placed at intervals, dif- 
 fused a pure light, which the enormous mass of surroiniding darkness rendered 
 still more brilliant by its contrast. Tlie people covered the alleys and the greensward. 
 The citizen, seated wilh his wife, amidst his children, ate, chatted, walked about, and 
 enjoyed himself. Here, young lads and lasses danced to the sound of several bando 
 of music, stationed in the open spaces which had been formed. Farther on, sailors, 
 in jacket and trousers, surrounded by numerous groups who looked on with inter- 
 est, strove to climb up tall masts rubbed with soap, to gain a prize reserved for him 
 wlio should reach and bring down a tricoloured flag fastened to the summit. You 
 should have seen the hursts of laughter which greeted those who were forced to re- 
 linquish the attempt, and the encouragements given to those, who, more lucky or 
 more adroit, appeared likely to reach the top. A soothing sentimental joy, diffused 
 over ev»ry face, beaming; in every eye, reminded you of the peaceful pleasures of 
 tlic happy shades in the Elysian fielcsof the ancients. The white dresses of a multi- 
 tude of females, strolling under tlieirees cf those beautiful alleys, served to heighten 
 the illusion." — Ferricrcs, torn, ii., p. S9. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 159 
 
 Revolution ; it is- -it is in tlie hearts of the judges such as it will soon 
 be graven in history by the most just and the most implacable 
 vengeance." 
 
 Plaudits accompanied Mirabeau tohis seat; the Assembly resolved 
 that there was no ground of accusation against the persons inculpated, 
 and tiie court incurred the disgrace of a useless attempt. 
 
 The Revolution was destined to run its course every where, in the 
 army as well as among the people. The army, the last instrument of 
 power, was also the last fear of the popular party. All the military 
 chiefs were enemies of the Revolution, because, being exclusive pos- 
 sessors of promotion and favours, they saw merit admitted to equal 
 privileges witli themselves. From the contrary motive, the soldiers 
 inclined to the new order of thiiio-s; and no doubt the dislike of dis- 
 ciphne, and the desire of higher pay, acted as powerfully upon them 
 us tilt; spirit of liberty. A dangerous insubordination manifested itself 
 throughout almost the whole army. The infantry, in particular, per- 
 haps because it mingles more with the people, Avas in a state of 
 absolute insurrection. Bouill6, who was mortified to see his army 
 slipping out of his hands, employed all possible means to prevent this 
 contagion of the revolutionary spirit. He had received the most ex- 
 tensive powers from Latour du Pin, minister at war; he availed him- 
 self of them to keep shifting his troops about continually, and thus to 
 prevent them from contracting a familiarity with the people by staying 
 in the same place. He forbade them, above all things, to frequent 
 the clubs, and in short he neglected no means of maintaining military 
 subordination. BouilI6, after a long resistance, had at length taken 
 the oath to the constitution. He was a man of honour, and from 
 that moment he seemed to have formed the resolution to be faithful 
 to the constitution and to the King. His dislike of Lafayette, whose 
 disinterestedness he could not but acknowledge, was overcome, and 
 he was more disposed to be on good terms with him. The national 
 guards of the extensive country under his command, had proposed 
 to appoint him their general. He had refused tiie offer in his first 
 fit of pique, but was sorry for having done so afterwards, wiicn he 
 thought of all the good that he should have had it in his power to do. 
 Nevertheless, in spite of some denunciations of the clubs, he still 
 maintained himself in the popular favour. 
 
 Revolt first broke out at Metz. The soldiers confined their offi- 
 cers, seized the colours and the military chests, and wished even to 
 make the municipality contribute. Bouille exposed himself to the 
 greatest danger, and succeeded in his efforts to suppress the sedition. 
 Soon afterwards, a similar mutiny took place at Nancy. Some Swiss 
 regiments were implicated in it, and there was reason to apprehend 
 that, if this example were followed, the whole kingdom would soon 
 be a prey to the united excesses of the soldiery and the populace. 
 The Assembly itself trembled at the prospect. An officer was 
 charged to carry the decree passed against the rebels. He could not 
 put it into execution, and Ijouille was ordered to march to Nancy, 
 that the law might have the assistance of force. He had but few 
 soldiers on whom he could rely. Luckily the troops which had lately 
 
160 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 mutinied at Metz, humbled because he durst not trust them, offered to march 
 against the rebels: the national guards made a smiilar offer, and he advanced 
 upon Nancy wiin these united forces and a tolerably numerous body of ca- 
 valry. His siiuatiou was perplexing, for he could not employ his cavalry, 
 and his infantry was not strong enougli to attack the rebels seconded by the 
 populace. Nevertheless he addressed witli the greatest firmness and con- 
 trived to overawe them. They were even about to yield and to leave the 
 rity agreeably to his orders, Avhen some musket-sliots were fired from some 
 unknown quarter. An action now became inevitable. Bouille's troops, 
 under the idea of treachery, fought w^ith the greatest ardour; but the engage- 
 ment was obstinate, and tliey penetrated only step by step through a de- 
 structive fire. Being at length master of the principal squares, Bouillo 
 gained the submission of tlie revolted regiments, and compelled them to leave 
 llie city; he liberated the imprisoned officers and the authorities, and caused 
 (he principal ringleaders to be picked out, and delivered them up to the Na- 
 tional Assembly. 
 
 This victory diffused general joy, and allayed the fears which had been 
 excited for tlie tranquillity of the kingdom. Bouille received congratulations 
 and commendations from the King and the Assembly. He was subsequently 
 calumniated, and liis conduct charged with cruelty. It was nevertheless ir- 
 reproachable, and at tlie moment it was applauded as such. The Kmg aug- 
 mented his command, which became very considerable, extending from 
 Switzerland to the Sambre, and comprehending the greatest part of the fron- 
 tiers. Bouille, having more reliance on the cavalry than on the infantry, 
 chose the banks of the Seille, which falls into tlie Moselle, for his canton- 
 ments. He there had plains for manoeuvring his cavalry, forage for its sup- 
 port, places of considerable strength for intrenching it, and above all, a thm 
 population. Bouille had determined to take no step against the constitution, 
 feut he distrusted the patriots, and he took precautions with a view to suc- 
 cour the King, if circumstances should render it necessary. 
 
 The Assembly had abolished the parliaments, instituted juries, suppressed 
 jiirandes, and was about to order a fresh issue of assignats. The property 
 of the clergy offering an immense capital, and the assignats rendering it con- 
 tinually disposable, it was natural that the Assembly should employ it. All 
 the objections already urged were renewed with still greater violence. The 
 Bishop of Autun himself declared against this ucav issue, and had the sagacity 
 to foresee all the financial results of that measure.*' Mirabeau, looking 
 chiefly at the political results, obstinately persisted, and with success. Eight 
 
 * M. (]e TalleyranJ had preJicteJ, in a very remarkable manner, the financial results of 
 paper-money. In his speech he first showed the nature of that money, characterized it with 
 the p^reatest justice, and explained the reasons of its speedy infcriorily. 
 
 "Will the National Assembly." said he, "order an issue of two thousand millions of 
 money in assignats ? People judge of tliis second issue by the success of the first ; but they 
 will not perceive that the wants of commerce, checked by the Revolution, naturally caused 
 our first conventional issue to be received with avidity ; and these wants were such, that, in 
 my opinion, this curtency would have been adopted, had it even not been forced ; to make an 
 attack on this first success, which moreover, has not been complete, since the assignats are 
 below par, in favour of a second and more ample issue, is to expose ourselves to great 
 dangers; for the empire of the law has its measure, and this measure is the interest which 
 a\en have to respect or to infringe it. 
 
 "The assignats will undoubtedly have characters of security which no paper-money evet 
 had ; none was ever created upon so valuable a pledge, clothed with so solid a security: that 
 * am far from denying. The assignat, considered as a title of credit, has a positive and ma- 
 terial value; this value of the assignat is precisely the same as that of (he land which it re- 
 presents; but still it must be admitted above all, that never will any national paper be upoc 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 161 
 
 humlred millions in assignats were decreed; and this time it was decided 
 Ihat they shoidd not bear interest. It would have been useless in fact to add 
 interest to a circulating medium. Let this be done for a paper which can- 
 not circulate but remains idle in the hands of the holder — nothing is more 
 just: but for a value which becomes actual by its forced currency, it is an 
 error wliich the Assembly did not commit a second time. 
 
 Necker opposed this new issue, and sent in a memorial which was not 
 listened to. Times were materially changed for him, and he was no longer 
 the minister whose continuance in office was deemed by the people essential 
 
 a par with the metils; never will the supplementary sign of the first representative sign of 
 wealth have the exact value of its model ; the very title proves want, and want spreads alarm 
 and di'^trust around it. 
 
 " Why will assignat-money be always below specie? In the first place, because (here will 
 always be doubts of the exact application of its proportions between the mass of the assignata 
 and that of the national property ; because there will long be uncertainty respecting the con- 
 Bummation of the sales, because no conception can be formed by what time two thousand 
 millions of assignats, representing nearly the value of the domains, will be extinguished; be- 
 cause, money being put in competition with paper, both become a marketable commodity; 
 and the more abundant any commodity is, the lower must be its [irice ; because with money 
 one will always be able to do without assignats, whilst it is impossilile with assi;^nat-s to do 
 without money : and fortunately tiie absolute want of money v/ill keep some specie in circu- 
 lation, f)r it would l)C the greatest of all evils to be absolutely det.litule of it." 
 
 Farther on the speaker added : " To create an assignat currency is not assuredly represent- 
 ing a metallic commodity, it is merely representing a metallic currency : now a metal that is 
 merely money, whatever idea may be attached to it, cannot represent that which is at the 
 same lime money and merchandise. Assignat-money, however safe, however solid, it may 
 be, is therefore an abstraction of paper-money ; it is consequently but the free or forced sign, 
 not of wealth but merely of credit. It thence follows that to give to paper the functions of 
 money b}' making it like other mop.ey, the medium between all exchangeable objects, is 
 changing the quantity recognised as unit, otherwise called in this matter the mint standard ; 
 it is operating in a moment what centuries scarcely operate in a state that is advancing in 
 wealth; and if, to borrow the expression of a foreign writer, money performs in regard to the 
 price of things the same function as degrees, minutes, and seconds, in regard to angles, or 
 scales in regard to geographical maps and plans of all kinds, I ask what must be the result 
 from (his alteration in the common measure?" 
 
 After showing what the new money was, M. de Talleyrand predicted with singular preci- 
 sion the confusion which would result from it in private transactions. 
 
 "But, let us at length follow the assignats in their progress, and see what course they will 
 have to take. The reimbursed creditor then must either purchase lands with the assignats, 
 or he must keep them, or employ them for other acquisitions. If he purchases lands, then 
 your object will be fulfilled : I shall applaud with you the creation of assignats, because they 
 will not be thrown into circulation ; because, in short, they will only have made that which 
 I propose to you to give to public credits, the faculty of being exchanged for public domains. 
 But if this distrustful creditor prefers losing the interest by keeping an inactive title ; if h£ 
 converts assignats into metals for the purpose of hoarding them, or into bills on (breii^iicrs to 
 carry them abroad ; if these latter classes are much more numerous than the first ; if, in short, 
 the assignats remain a long time in circulation before they come to be extinguished in the 
 chest of the sinking fund; if they are forced into currency and stop in the hands of pjersona 
 who are obliged to take them at par, and who, owing nothing, cannot employ them but with 
 loss ; if they are the occasion of a great injustice done by all debtors to all creditors anterior 
 to the pa.-sing of assignats at the par of money, whilst it will be contradicted in the security 
 which it orders, since it will be impossible to oblige the sellers to take them at the par of 
 Bptcic, that is to say without raising the price of their commodities in proportion to the loss 
 upon the assignats : how sorely then will this ingenious operation have disappointed the pa- 
 triotism of those whose sagacity has devised, and whose integrity defends it! and to what in- 
 consolable regret should we not be doomed !" 
 
 It cannot then be asserted that the National Assembly was wholly unaware of the possible 
 result of its determination; but to these forebodings might be opposed one of those answen 
 tvhich one never dare give at the moment, but which would be peremptory and which bo 
 come so in the sequel — the necessity of replenishing the exchequer and of dividing propert* 
 
 Vol. L— 2' 
 
162 HISrORY OF THE 
 
 10 their wulfare a year before. Deprived of the conficiGnce of the King, em- 
 broiled with his colleagues, excepting Montmorin, he was neglected by the 
 Assembly, and not treated by it witli that attention which he had a right to 
 expect. Necker's error consisted in believing that reason is siuTicient for 
 all things, and that, combined wdth a medley of sentiment and logic, it could 
 not fail to triumph over the infatuation of the aristocrats and the irritation of 
 the patriots. Necker possessed that somewhat vain-glorious reason, which 
 sits in judgment on the vagaries of the passions, and condemns them; but he 
 lacked that other sort of reason, more lofty but less proud, which does not 
 confine itself to condemning, but knows how to govern them also. Thus, 
 placed in the midst of parties, he only irritated all, without being a bridle 
 upon any. Left without friends, since the secession of Mounier and Lally, 
 he had retained none but the useless Mallouet. He had olTended the As- 
 sembly by reminding it continually and with reproaches of the most difficult 
 of all duties — that of attending to the finances. He had moreover incurred 
 ridicule Ity the manner in which he spoke of himself. His resignation was 
 accepted with pleasure by all parties. His carriage was stopped as it was 
 quitting the kingdom by the same populace which had before drawn him in 
 triumph; and it was necessary to apply to the Assembly for an order direct- 
 ing that he should be allowed to go to Switzerland. He soon obtained this 
 permission, and retired to Coppet, there to contemplate at a distance a Revo- 
 lution which he was no longer qualified to observe closely or to guide. 
 
 The ministry was now reduced to as complete a cipher as the King, and 
 chiefly busied itself with intrigues, which were either futile or culpable. St. 
 Priest communicated witli the emic-rants; Latour dii Pin lent himself to all 
 the schemes of the military chiefs ; Montmorin*^" possessed the esteem of the 
 
 • "Armand Marc Count de Montmorin St. Herem, minister of finance, and secretary of 
 etate, was one of the Assembly of Notables held at Versailles, and had the administration of 
 foreign affairs at the time when the States-general opened. He was dismissed in 1789 with 
 Necker, but was immediately recalled by order of the National Assembly. In September, 
 1790, when all his colleagues were dismissed, he retained his place, and even the portfolio 
 of the interior was for a time confided to him. In April, 1791, he sent a circular letter to all 
 the ministers at foreign courts, assuring their sovereigns that the King was wholly unre- 
 strained, and sincerel^r attached to the new constitution. In the beginning of June, he was 
 struck from the list of Jacobins, and was afterwards summoned to the bar for giving the 
 King's passport when he fled to Varennes ; but he easily cleared himself from this charge by 
 proving that the passport had been taken out under a supposititious name. M. de Montmo- 
 rin soon after this, tendered his resignation ; yet though withdrawn from public life, he con- 
 tinued near the King, and, together with Bertrand de MoUeville, Mallouet, and a few others, 
 formed a kind of privy council, which suggested and prepared various plans for strengthen- 
 ing the monarchy. This conduct drew on him the inveterate hatred of the Jacobins, who 
 attacked him and Bertrand as members of the Austrian committee. M. de Montmorin was 
 ©ne of the first victims who fell in the massacres of September." — Biographie Moderne. E. 
 
 " The unfortunate M. de Montmorin had taken refuge on the 10th of August at the house 
 of a washerwoman in the fauxbourg St. Antoine. He was discovered in the early part of 
 September by the imprudence of his hostess, who bought the finest fowls and the best fruit 
 she could find, and carried them to her house, without taking any precautions to elude the 
 observation of her ni'ighbours. They soon suspected her of harbouring an aristocrat. Thia 
 conjecture spread among the populace of the fauxboum, who were almost all of them spies 
 and agents of the Jacobins, M. de Montmorin was in consequence arrested, and conducted 
 to the bar of the National Assembly. He answered the questions put to him in the most 
 satisfactory manner; but his having concealed himself, and a bottle of laudanum having 
 been found in his pocket, formed, said his enemies, a strong presumption that he was con- 
 scious of some crime. After being detained two days in the committee, he was sent a prisonei 
 to the Abbaye ; and a few days afterwards was murdered in a manner too shocking to men- 
 tion ; and his mangled body carried in triumph to the National Assembly." — Private Memovti 
 of Bertrand de MoUeville, E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 163 
 
 pourt but not its confidence, and he was employed in intri^cs with the 
 popular leaders with whom liis moderation made him acquainted. The 
 ministers were all denounced on the plea of new plots. " I too," exclaimed 
 Cazales, "I too would denounce them, if it were generous to attack such 
 weak men ; I would charge the minister of the finances with having kept the 
 Assembly in the dark respecting the real resources of the state, and with not 
 having directed a RevoliUion which he had provoked; I would charge the 
 minister at war with having suffered the army to be disorganized; the mi- 
 nister of the interior with not having enforced the observance of the King's 
 orders ; all, in short, witli their nullity and the cowardly advice given to their 
 master." Inactivity is a crime in the eyes of parties desirous of proceed- 
 ing to their goal. Accordingly, the rig.it side condemned tlie ministers not 
 for what they had done, but lor what they had not done. Cazales and his 
 supporters, though they condemned them, were nevertheless averse to ap- 
 plying to ihe King for their dismissal, because they regarded sucli an appli- 
 cation as an infrmgement of the royal prerogative. The motion was not 
 pressed; but the ministers successively resigned, excepting Montmorin, who 
 alone was retained. Duport-du-Tertre, who was merely an advocate, was 
 appointed keeper of the seals. Duportail, recommended to the King by La- 
 fayette, succeeded Latour du Pin in the wnr department, and showed him- 
 self more favourably disposed towards the popular party. One of the mea- 
 sures taken by him was to deprive Bouille of all the liberty wliich he as- 
 sumed in his command, and especially of the power of displacing the troops 
 at his pleasure ; — a power v/liich Bouille employed, as we have seen, to pre- 
 vent his soldiers from fraternizing with the people. 
 
 TJie King had studied the hhitory of tlie English revolution with particu- 
 lar attention. He had always been powerfully struck by the fate of Charles 
 I., and he could not help feeling sinister forebodings. He had particularly 
 remarked tlie motive of Charles's condemnation. The motive was civil war. 
 He liad thence contracted an invincible horror of every measure that could 
 produce blooi'shed, and invariably opposed all the schemes of flight proposed 
 by tlie Queen and the court. 
 
 During the summer which he passed at St. Cloud in 1790, he had oppor- 
 tunities enough for flight, but he never would listen to the mention of it. The 
 friends of the constitution dreaded like him such a step, which seemed likely 
 to lead to a civil war. The aristocrat* alone desired it, because, in becoming 
 masters of the King by withdrawing him from the Assembly, they flattered 
 themselves with the prospect of governing in his name, and returning with 
 him at the head of foreigners ; not vet knowinir that in such cases one can 
 never go anywhere but in the rear. With the aristocrats were perhaps 
 united some precocious imaginations, which already began to dream of a re- 
 public, which no one else yet thought of, and the name of which had ntwer 
 yet been mentioned, unless by the Queen in her fits of passion against La 
 fayette and the Assembly, whom slie accused of urging it on with all their 
 might. Lafayette, chief of the constitutional army and of all the sincere 
 friends of liberty, kept incessant watch over the person of the monarch. 
 Those two ideas, the departure of the King and civil war, were so strongly 
 associated in all minds ever since the commencement of the Revolution, that 
 such an event was considered as the greatest calamity that could be appre- 
 hended. 
 
 Meanwhile the expulsion of the ministry, which, if it had not the confi- 
 dence of Louis XVI. was at least his choice, indisposed him towards the 
 Assembly, and excited his fears for the total loss of the executive power 
 
164 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Tlie new religious debates, to which the bad faith of the clergy gave rise on 
 occasion of the civil constitution, affrighted his timid conscience, and thence* 
 forward he thought of departure. ■• It was towards the end of 1790 that ha 
 wrote on the subject to Bouille, who at first opposed the scheme, but after- 
 wards gave way, lest he should cause the unfortunate monarch to doubt hig 
 zeal. Mirabeau, on his part, had formed a plan for upholding the monarchy. 
 In continual communication with Montmorin, he had hitherto undertaken 
 nothing of consequence ; because the court, hesitating between emigration 
 and tlie national party, was not cordially disposed towards anything, and 
 dreaded, above all other schemes, that which would subject it to a master 
 so sincerely constitutional as Mirabeau. Nevertheless, at this period it 
 cordially agreed with him. Everything was promised him if he succeeded. 
 All possible resources were placed at his disposal. Talon, civil lieutenant 
 to the Chatelet, and Laporte, recently summoned by the King to manage 
 the civil list, had orders to see him and to aid in the execution of his plans. 
 Mirabeau condemned the new constitution. For a monarchy it was, accord 
 ing to him, too democratic, and for a republic, there was a king too much 
 Observing, above all, the popular violence, which kept continually increas- 
 ing, he resolved to set bounds to it. At Paris, under the rule of the mob 
 and of an all-powcrfal Assembly, any attempt of this sort was impossible. 
 He felt that there was but one alternative, to remove the King from Paiis, 
 and place him at Lyons. Tliere the King could have explained himself: 
 he could have energetically stated the reasons which caused him to condemn 
 the new constitution, and have given another, which was ready prepared. 
 At the same instant a first session would have been convoked. Mirabeau, 
 in conferring in writing with the most popular members, had had the art to 
 draw from all of them the acknowledgment of their disapprobation of an 
 article in the existing constitution. On comparing these different opinions, 
 it was found that the constitution was altogether condemned by its framers 
 themselves.t He proposed to annex them to the manifesto of the King, to 
 
 • "About this time Madame de Stael invented a plan for his Majesty's escape, which sh* 
 communicated to M. de Montmorin in a letter that he showed me. The plan was as follows: — 
 The estate of Lamotte, on the coast of Normandy, belonging to the Dake of Orleans, was to 
 be sold. Madame de Stael proposed, that she should publicly give out that she had an 
 intention to purchase it ; and on this pretext, that she should make frequent journeys to thai 
 place, always in the same carriage, and accompanied in the same manner — namely, by a man 
 of the same size and shape as the King, dressed in a gray coat, and a round periwig; by a 
 waiting-woman resembling the Queen ; by a child of the age and figure of the Dauphin; and 
 by a footman on horseback. When these repeated journeys had accustomed the masters 
 of the post-houses, and the postilions on the road, to the appearance of Madame de Stael and 
 her travelling companions, she proposed that their places should be occupied by the King, 
 Queen, and Dauphin, in the hope that they would arrive safely at the castle of Lamotte, 
 where a fishing-vessel would be in readiness to transport them whither they pleased. This 
 plan appeared to M. de Montmorin equally dangerous, romantic, and inconsistent with pro- 
 priety ; he therefore never mentioned it to the King, in the fear that his majesty, who regarded 
 Madame de Stael as an enthusiast, would reject every future plan of escape as wild and 
 extravagant, merely because a similar measure had been proposed by her." — Private Memoirs 
 of Bertrand de Molleville. E. 
 
 I It is not possible that there should not be diversity of opinions in regard to a work com- 
 posed collectively, and by a great number of persons. Unanimity having never taken place, 
 excepting on certain very rare points, of course every part was disapproved by those who 
 voted against it. Thus every article of the constitution of 1791 must have met with some 
 disapprovcrs among the very authors of that constitution ; the whole was nevertheless their 
 real and incontestable work. What happened in this instance would have been inevitable in 
 anv deliberative bodv and the expedient of Mirabeau was but a trick. It may even be said, 
 Jbaf his procedure was far from delicate, but great allowance must be made for a man of mighty 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 165 
 
 insure its elTect and to cause the necessity for a new constitution to be the 
 more strongly felt, "We are not acquainted with all his means of execution: 
 but we know that, through the policy of Talon, civil lieutenant, he had 
 secured pamphleteers, and club and mob orators ; and that by his immeaisc 
 correspondence he could have made sure of thirty-six departments of the 
 south. No doubt he meant to gain the aid of Bouille, but he would not 
 place himself at the mercy of that general. AVhile Bouille should be 
 encamped at Monti*nedy, he wished the King to stay at Lyons; and he 
 himself was to be at Lyons or Paris, according to circumstances. A foreign 
 prince, a friend of Mirabeau, saw Bouille on behalf of the King, and com- 
 municated to him this plan, but unknown to Mirabeau,*' who had no thought 
 of Montmedy, for which place the King subsequendy set out. Bouille, 
 struck by the genius of Mirabeau, declared that everytliing ought to be done 
 to win such a man, and that for his own part he was ready to second him 
 with all his means. 
 
 M. de Lafayette was unacquainted with this plan. Though sincerely 
 attached to the person of the King, he had not the conlidence of the court, 
 and besides he excited the envy of Mirabeau, who was not desirous of hav- 
 ing such a companion. M. de Lafayette, moreover, was known to pursue 
 only the direct road ; and this plan was too bold, it deviated too much from 
 the legal course, to suit him. Be this as it may, Mirabeau wished to be the 
 Bole executer of liis plan, and in fact lie carried it on quite alone during the 
 winter of 1790-179 L It is impossible to tell whether it would have suc- 
 ceeded, but this much is certain, tliat without stemming the revolutionary 
 torrent, it would at least have influenced its direction ; and that, though it 
 would undoubtedly not have changed the inevitable result of the revolution, 
 it would have modified events by its powerful opposition. It is still a ques- 
 tion, however, whether, had he even succeeded in quelling tlie popular party, 
 he could have made himself master of the aristocracy and of the court. One 
 of his friends mentioned to him this last objection. " They have promised 
 me everything," said Mirabeau. "And if they should not keep their 
 word?" — ''If they do not keep their word, I will soon turn them into a 
 republic." 
 
 The principal articles of the civil constitution, such as the new circum- 
 scription of tlie bishoprics and the election of all the ecclesiastical function- 
 aries, had been decreed. The King had referred to the Pope, wlio, after 
 answering him in a tone half severe and half paternal, had appealed in his 
 turn to tlie clergy of France. The clergy, availing itself of this occasion, 
 alleged that spiritual interests were compromised by the measures of the 
 Assembly. At the same time it circulated pastoral charges, declared that 
 the displaced bishops would not quit their sees but by compulsion and force ; 
 that they would hire houses and continue their ecclesiastical functions ; and 
 that all who adhered faithfully to their religion ought to have recourse to 
 
 mind and dif?solute manners, whom the morality of the aim rendered not over scrupulous in 
 rec;ard to that of the means. I say the morality of the aim, for Mirabeau sincerely believed 
 in the necessity of a modifiei' constitution ; and, though his ambition and his petty personal 
 rivalries contributed to keep him aloof from the popular party, he was sincere in his fear of 
 anarchy. Others besides him dreaded the court and the aristocracy more than the people. 
 Thus there were everywhere, according to the positions of parties, different fears, and every- 
 where true ones. Conviction changes with the points of view ; and morality, that is to say, 
 eincerity. is to be found alike on the most opposite sides. 
 
 • Bouille, in his Memoirs, seems to believe that it was on the part of Mirabeau and the 
 King that overtures were made to him. This is a mistake. Mirabeau veas ignorant of this 
 double-dealing, and had no intention of putting himself into Bouille's power. 
 
166 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 them alone. The clergy intri^ed particularly in La Vendee and in soma 
 of the southern departments, where it acted in concert with the emigrants 
 A federative camp had been formed at Jallez, where, under the apparent pre« 
 text of federation, the pretended federalists purposed to establish a centre of 
 opposition to the measures of the Assembly. The popular party was exas- 
 perated at these proceedings ; and, strong in its power, weary of moderation, 
 it resolved to resort to a decisive expedient. We have already seen whal 
 were the motives that had influenced the adoption of the civil constitution. 
 7^he framcrs of that constitution were the most sincere Christians in the 
 Assembly; and these, irritated by an unjust resistance, resolved to over- 
 come it. 
 
 Tlie reader knows that a decree obliged all the public functionaries to take 
 an oalh to the new constitution. When this civic oath was discussed, the 
 clergy endeavoured to make a distinction between the political constitution 
 and the ecclesiastical constitution : but the Assembly had gone still farther. 
 On this occasion it resolved to require of the ecclesiastics a rigorous oath, 
 which should impose on them the necessity of retiring if they refused to 
 take it, or of faithlully performing their duties if they did take it. It had the 
 precaution to declare, tliat it meant not to do violence to consciences; that 
 it should respect the refusal of those who, considering religion as compro- 
 mised by the new laws, would not take the oath ; but that it was desirous 
 of knowing them that it might not consign the new bishoprics to their charge. 
 In this course its motives were just and frank. It added to its decree, that 
 those who should refuse to take the oath should be deprived of their func- 
 tions and salary. Moreover, by way of setting the example, all the ecclesi- 
 astics who were deputies were required to take the oath in the Assembly 
 itself, eight days after the sanction of the new decree. 
 
 The right side opposed this. Maury gave vent to all his violence, and 
 did all that lay in his power to provoke interruption, that he might have 
 ground for complaint. Alexandre Lametli, who tilled the president's chair, 
 maintained order while he spoke, and deprived him of the pleasure of being 
 driven from the tribune. Mirabeau, more eloquent than ever, defended the 
 Assembly. "You," he exclaimed, "the persecutors of religion! you, who 
 have paid it so noble and so touching an homage in the most admirable of 
 your decrees ! — you, who devote to its worship part of the public revenue, 
 of which your prudence and your justice have rendered you so economical! 
 — you, Avho have summoned religion to assist in the division of the king- 
 dom, and have planted the sign of the cross on all the boundaries of the 
 departments! — you, in short, who know that God is as necessary to man as 
 hberty !" 
 
 The Asscniblv decreed the oath. The King referred immediately to 
 Rome. The Bishop of Aix, who had at first opposed the civil constitution, 
 feeling tlie necessity of a pacification, joined the King and some of the more 
 moderate of his colleagues in soliciting the assent of the Pope. The emi- 
 granls at Turin and the opposing Bisliops of France, wrote also to Rome, 
 but in a directly contrary spirit, and the Pope, upon various pretexts, post- 
 poned his answer. The Assembly, irritated at these delays, insisted on 
 having the sanction ol the King, who, having made up his mind to comply, 
 lesorted to the usual stratagems of weakness. He wished to oblige the 
 Assembly to use constraint towards him, that he might seem not to act freely. 
 In fact, he expected a commotion, and then he hastened to give his sanction. 
 As soon as the decree was sanctioned, the Assembly determined to put it Ik 
 execution, c*nd required its ecclesiastical members to take Uie oath in their 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 167 
 
 places. JNlcn and Avomen wlio had until then shown very little attachment 
 to religion, all at once made tliemselves extremely husy in provoking ilie 
 refusal of die ecclesiastics. '■ Some of the bisliops and some of Uie cures 
 look the oath. The majority refused, witii a feigned moderation and an 
 apparent attachment to its principles. The Assembly neverlliclcss persisted 
 in the nomination of new bisliops and cures, and vras cheerfully seconded 
 by the administrations. The former ecclesiastical functionaries were al 
 liberty to perform divine service apart, and those mIio were recognised bv 
 the state tiuik their places in the churches. The dissenters at Paris hired 
 tlie church of tlie 'i'heatines fur then* place of worship. Tlie xVssembly 
 permilted tltis, and the national guard protected them as much as possible 
 from the fury of the populace, which did not always allow them to perform 
 their devotions in quiet. 
 
 The Assembly has been condemned for having occasioned this scliism, 
 find for having added a new cause of division to those which before existed. 
 In the first place, as to its rights, it must be evident to every just mind thai 
 the Assembly thd not exceed theni in directing its attention to the tempo- 
 ralities of the Church. As lor considerations of prudence, wo may allirm 
 tliat it added little to the dilTiculties of its position. It is e\ ident tfiat tlie 
 court, the nolnlity, and the clergy, had lost enougli, and the people jiad 
 gained enough to be irreconcilal)le enemies, and to impel tlie revolution to 
 its inevilal/le issue, even witliout tlie eU'ect^ of the new sclii^m. And be- 
 sides when tlic Asscmldy wa-^ abolishing all abuses, could it sutler those of 
 the ancient ecclesiastical organization to remain? Coukl it sullcr idle per- 
 sons to live in abundance; ^\•hilc pastors, tlie onlv useful members of the 
 profession, had scarcely the necessaries of existence? 
 
 This last struggle completed the work of universal division. AVhile the 
 clergy excited tlie provinces oi' llie west and south, the refugees at Turin 
 made seseral attempts, vvdiich ^vere frustrated by their weakness and their 
 anarchy. A conspiracy was set on foot at Lyons. The arri\'al of tlie princes, 
 and an alnmdant distribution of fa\'ours were there announced. I>yons 
 was even promised to be made the capital of the kin<2:dom, instead of Paris, 
 which liad incurred the displeasure of tlie court. The King was apprized 
 
 • Forrirros, an cyo-wilncss of the intrigues of that period, mentions those which were 
 employed to prevotit the oath of the priests. This page appears to me too characteristic not 
 to be quoted : 
 
 "The hi-shops and the revolutionists intric;ued and were extremely busy, the one to cause 
 the oath to be taken, the other to prevent it. Both parties were sensible of the iiiHuence which 
 the line of conduct pursued by the ecclesiastics of the Assembly would have in the provinces 
 The bishops visited their ciirt's ; devotees of both sexes set themselves in motion. Nothing 
 was talked of in every company but the oath of the clcrpy. One would have supposed that 
 the drstinv of France and the fate of every Frenchman depended on its bein^ la!;en or not 
 taken. Men the most free in their rclig-ious opinions, and the most notoriously immoral 
 women, were suddenly transformed into rigid theologians, into ardent missionaries of the 
 purity and integrity of the Romish faith. 
 
 " 'J'/'ic Jiiuriuil (Ic Fonicnci/, I'Aini du Rol, and la Gazette de Duro^oir, employed their 
 usual weapons — exaggeration, falsehood, calumny. Numberless tracts were distributed, in 
 W'hicli tl'.e civil constitution of the clercry was treated as schismatic, heretical, and destructive 
 of rehi:;iiin. The devotees hawked about pamphlets from house to house ; ihey entreated, con- 
 jured, threatened, according to particular dispositions and characters. To some they represented 
 the clergy triumphant, the Asseml)ly dissolved, the prevaricating ecclesiastics stripped ol their 
 benefices, confined in their houses of correction ; the faithful ones covered with glory and 
 loaded with wealth. The Pope was about to launch his anathemas at a sacrilegious Assembly 
 and at the apostate priests. The people deprived of the sacraments would lise; the foreign 
 |»owers would enter France, and that structure of iniquity and villany would crumble to pieces 
 up'm its own foundations." — Fariires, torn, ii., p. 198. 
 
168 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 of these schemes, and, not expecting success from them, perhaps not even 
 desirinff it, for he despaired of governing the victorious aristocracy, he 
 did all that lay in his power to prevent it. This conspiracy was disco' 
 vered about the end of 1790, and its principal agents were delivered up to 
 justice. 
 
 This last reverse determined the emigrants to remove from Turin to Co- 
 blentz, where they setded in the territory of the Elector of Treves, and at 
 the expense of his authority', which they almost entirely usurped. We have 
 already seen that these nobles, who had fled from France, were divided in- 
 to two parties. The one, consisting of old servants, pampered with favours, 
 and composing what was called the court, would not, while supported by 
 tlie provincial nobility, consent to share influence with the latter, and for 
 this reason they meant to have recourse to foreigners alone. The others, 
 men relying more upon their swords, proposed to raise the provinces of the 
 south by rousing their fanaticism. The former carried tlieir point, and re- 
 paired to Coblentz, on the northern frontier, to wait there for the foreign 
 aid. In vain did those who wished to fi^ht in the south insist that aid ought 
 to be sought from Piedmont, Switzerland, and Spain, faithful and disinter- 
 ested allies, and that a distinguished leader should be left in their vicinity. 
 The aristocracy, directed by Calonne, was adverse to this. That aristo- 
 cracy had not changed since leaving France. Frivolous, haughty, incapable, 
 and prodigal, at Coblentz as at Versailles, it displayed its vices still more 
 conspicuously amidst the ditliculties of exile and of civil war. "You must 
 have citizens in your commission," it said to those gallant men who offered 
 to fight in the south, and who asked under what tide they were to serve.* 
 Some subordinate agents only were left at Turin; these, actuated by mutual 
 jealousy, thwarted each other's efforts, and prevented the success of every 
 attempt. The Prince of Conde,t who seemed to have retained all the 
 
 • M. Froniont relates the following circumstance in his work already quoted: 
 "In this state of things, the princes conceived the plan of forming in the interior of the 
 Kingdom, as soon as possible, legions of all the loyal subjects of the King, to be employed 
 till the troops of the line should be completely reorganized. Desirous of being at the head of 
 the royalists whom I had directed and commanded in 1789 and 1790, I wrote to Monsieur 
 the Count d'Artois, begging his royal highness to grant me the commission of colonel-com- 
 mandant, worded in such a manner that every royalist who, like myself, should raise a suffi- 
 cient number of good citizens to form a legion, might have reason to flatter himself that he 
 fihould obtain the like favour. Monsieur the Count d'Artois applauded the idea, and listened 
 favourably to my application ; but the members of the council were not of his opinion; they 
 thought it so strange that a commoner should aspire to a military commission, that one of 
 them angrily said to me, 'Why did you not ask for a bishopric?* The only answer I gave to 
 the questioner was a loud burst of laughter, which somewhat disconcerted his gravity. Mean- 
 while, the question was discussed at the house of M. de Flaschlanden; the persons engaged 
 in this deliljcration were of opinion that these new corps ought to be called civic legions 
 (^legions bourgeoises.) I remarked to them, tliat under this denomination they would 
 merely supply the place of the national guards; that the princes could not make them march 
 to any quarter where they might be needed, because they would allege that they v^'ere bound 
 only to defend their own hearths; that it was to be feared that the factions would find means 
 to set them at loggerheads with the troops of the line; that with empty words they had 
 armed the people against the depositories of the public authority; that it would therefore be 
 more politic to follow their example, and to give to these now corps the denomination of 
 
 royal militia ; that 'No, no, sir,' said the Bishop of Arras, suddenly interrupting 
 
 me, ' the word bourgeois must be inserted in your commission ;' and the Baron de Flasch- 
 landen, who drew it up, inserted the vf ord bourgeois accordingly." — Recuell dc divers Ecrita 
 telatlffi a la Revolution, p. 62. 
 
 j-" Louis Joseph de Bourbon, Prince of Conde. was born at Chantilly in 1736. He was 
 Ihe only son of the Duke of Bourbon and the Princess of Hessc-Rheinfels. In 1753 he mar* 
 lied the Princess of Rohan-Soubise, who in 1756 bore him the Prince of Boarbon-Coade. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 1G9 
 
 enerrry of liis branch of the royal family, was not in favour with part of tlie 
 nobility ; lie took post near the Rhine, with all those who, like himself, were 
 not disi)o^e(l to intrifrue but to fio-ht. 
 
 Th'^^ cmi^n-atiDn became daily more considerable, and the roads were 
 covered with nobles, who imagined that they performed a sacred duty by 
 hastcnii);r to take arms against their country. Even women deemed it in 
 cumbcnt on tliem to attest their horror of the Revolution by for.-aking iho 
 soil of France. Among a nation which is so easily led away by example 
 it became the fashion to emigrate. People hardly gave themselves the 
 trouble to take leave, so short did tbr-y consider the journey, and so speedy 
 their return. ■■ 'J'he revolutionists of Holland, betrayed by their general, 
 al,)andoii(,'d by th.'ir allies, had yielded in a few days ; those of Brabant hud 
 not held out much longer: so too, according to these imprudent emigrants, 
 would the Freiu-h Resolution be quelled in one short campaign, and abso- 
 lute power would once more flourish in subjugated France. 
 
 The A-seml)Iy, irritated rather than alarmed at such presumption, had 
 proposed measures, init they had always been deferred. Tiic King's aunts 
 finding their consciences compromised at Paris, thought to insure their sal- 
 vation by repairing to tlie Pope. They set out for Rome, and were stopped 
 on the v/ay l>y (bo municipality of Arnai-le-Duc. The people immediately 
 thronget' to the residence of INlonsicnr, who also was said to be preparing 
 to depart. Monsieur appeared, and promised not to forsake the King. The 
 people were pacified, and the Asseni1)ly took into consideration the departure 
 of Mcsdanies. Tlie deliberation had lasted a considerable time, when 
 Menou put an end to it l)y this sallv : "All Europe," said he, "will be 
 astonished to learn that a great Assembly has spent several days in deciding 
 whetlier two old women sliall hear mass at Paris or at Rome." The com- 
 mittee of constitution wa^ nevertheless directed to present a laAV on the 
 residence of the public functionaries and on emigration. This decree, 
 adopted afler warm discussions, rendered it obligatory on public function- 
 aries to reside in the place of their functions. The King, as the higliest 
 of all, was required not to withdraw himself from the legislative body 
 during the session, and at other times not to leave the kingdom. The 
 
 In the seven years' war lie distinr^uislicJ himself liy his skill and courage, on J in 1762 gained 
 a victory at Johannisbcrg over the hereditary Prince of Brunswick. In the revolution lie 
 emigrated in 17S9, to Brussels, and thence to Turin. He afterwards formed a little corps of 
 emigrant nohilily, which joined the Austrian army under Wuraiser. In 1795 he entered 
 with his corps into the English service. In 1797 he entered the Russian service, and 
 marched with his cor[)s to Russia, where he was hospitably received by Paul I. In 1800, 
 after the separation of Russia from the coalition, he re-entered the English service. He re- 
 turned to Paris in 1814; and the next year fled with the King to Ghent. He died at Paris 
 in 1818. His grandson was the unfortunate Duke d'Enghien." — Ci/chpxilia Americana, E. 
 
 * " Many of the emigrants had joined the army in a state of com[)lete destitution. Others 
 were spending improvidently the last relics of their fortunes. Several corps, composed 
 wholly of officers, served as private soldiers. The naval officers were mounted ; the country 
 pentlemeii formed themselves into companies, distinguished by the names of their native 
 provinces. All were in good spirits, for the camp life was free and joyous. Some hccame 
 drawers of water, others hewers of wood ; others provided and dressed the provisions, and 
 everywhere the inspiring note of the trumpet resounded. The camp, in fact, was a perfect 
 kingdimi. There were princes dwelling in wagons; magistrates on horsehack ; missionaries 
 preaching the Bible and administering justice. The poor nobles conformed with caieless 
 philosophy to this altered state of things, cheerfully enduring present privations in the san- 
 guine expectation of speedily regaining all that they had lost. They confidently believed 
 that the end of autumn would find them restored to their splendid homes, to their groves, 
 lo their forests, and to their old dove-cotes." — Chalcaubriand's Memoirs of the Duke dt 
 Berri. E. 
 
 VOL. I. — 22 
 
170 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 penalty for al the functionaries, in case of their violating this law, was dia- 
 missal from oflice. Another decree relative to emigration was demanded 
 from the committee. 
 
 Meanwhile the King, unahle to endure the constraint imposed upon him, 
 and the reductions of power to which he was subjected by the Assembly, 
 enjoying moreover no peace of mind since the new decrees relative to 
 priests, had resolved upon tligjit. The whole v/inter had been devoted to 
 preparations for it : the zeal of Mirabeau was urged, and great promises 
 were held out to him if he should succeed in setting the royal family at 
 liberty. Mirabeau prosecuted liis plan with the utmost activity. Lafayette 
 had just broken with tlie Lameths. Tlie latter thought him too much 
 attached to the court ; and his integrity being, unlike that of Mirabeau. 
 above suspicion, they found fault with his understanding, and alleged that 
 he suffered himself to be duped. The enemies of the Lameths accused 
 them of being jealous of the military pov/er of Lafayette, as they had 
 envied the rhetorical power of Mirabeau. They joined, or seemed to join, 
 the friends of the Duke of Orleans, ' and it was asserted that they wished 
 to secure for one of them the command of the national guard. It wag 
 Charles Lameth who was said to be amliitious of obtaining this appoint- 
 ment. To this motive were attributed the incessantly recurring difficulties 
 that were subsequently thrown in the way of Lafayette. 
 
 On tlie 28th of February, the populace, instigated it is said by the Duke 
 of Orleans, repaired to the castle of Vinccnnes, which the municipali'.y had 
 appropriated for the reception of prisoners, with whom the prisons of Paris 
 were too much crowded. The castle was attacked as a new Bastille. La- 
 fayette hastened to the spot in time, and dispersed the populace of the faux- 
 bourg St. Antoine, who were led upon this expedition by Santerre.f While 
 he was restoring order in this quarter, other difficulties were preparing for 
 him at the Tuileries. On the rumour of a commotion, the dependents of 
 the palace, to the number of several hundred had repaired thither. They 
 carried concealed weapons, such as hunting-knives and daggers. The na- 
 tional guard, astonished at this concourse, took alarm, and disarmed and 
 maltreated some of them. Lafayette having arrived, caused the palace to 
 be cleared, and seized the weapons. The circumstance was immediately 
 
 * The three brothers, Theodore, Charles, and Alexandre Lameth, were peculiarly called 
 on to defend the cause of monarchy, for they had been loaded with benefits by the court, 
 and educated under the special patronage of the Queen, to whom they had been recom- 
 mended by their mother, wdio was the sister of Marshal Broglio. — Biographic Moderne, E. 
 
 f Siinlerre, a brewer in the fauxl)our(T St. Antoine, at Paris, possessed a boldness and 
 energy which gave him great weight in his own neighbourhood. Though ignorant, he knew 
 well how to address a mob, which made him courted by the Orleanists. On the taking of 
 the Bastille, he distinguished himself at the head of the forces of his fauxbourg, and when 
 the national guard was formed, he was a()pointed commander of a battalion. In 1792 he 
 began to obtain decided influence with the people, and on the 10th of August, becoming 
 commander of the national guard, he conducted the King to the Temple. Yet, notvvlth- 
 Bfanding his democratic zeal, he was not considered fit to direct the massacres in the prisons. 
 Marat said of him, that he was a man without any decided character. On the 11th of De- 
 cember he conducted the King to the bar of the rs'"ational Convention, on the occasion of 
 hif5 tiial; and in January, 1793, commanded the troops who superintended his execution. 
 It was Santerre who interrupted the unfortunate monarch when he attempted to address the 
 people, by ordering the drums to be beat. Wishing to figure as a warrior, Santerre de- 
 parted, with 14,000 men, to fight the royalists in La Vendee; he was, however, continually 
 unsuccessful ; and on one occasion, it having been reported that he was killed, this epitaph 
 was made on him: " Here lies General Santerre, who had nothing of Mars but his beer." 
 Santerre survived the troubles of the Revolution, and died in obs\;urity. — Biographic Mo' 
 dcrne. E. 
 
FRE^XH TvEVOLUTION. 171 
 
 nunourcd abroad. It was said that dagfjrers liad been found upon lliem, 
 whence tliey were al'Lerwards called kniglus of the darrger. They asserted 
 that lliey iiad only come to defend the person of tiie Kmg, w'hich wa^ 
 tlireatened. In rejjly, they were accused of an intention to carry olf tl^e 
 King; and tlic affair ended, as usual, in reciprocal calumnies. This scene 
 determined the real position of Lafiyetle. It was clearly shov/n on this 
 occa->ion, that, placed between the most opposite parties, he was there to 
 protect both the person of tlie King and the constitution. His double vie 
 tory increased his popularity, his power, and the hatred of his enemies 
 Miraheau, wlio wrongfully encouraged the distrust of the court towards 
 him, represented his conduct as profoundly hypocritical. Under the ap- 
 pearance of nu^deration and hostility to all parlies, it tended, according to 
 liim, to usurpation. In his spleen, he described the Laraeths as wicked 
 and senseless men, associated with the Duke of Orleans, and having no 
 more tlurn about thirty partisans in the Assembly. As for the right side, 
 he declared that he could make noUiing of it, but that he relied on tlie tliree 
 or four hundred members who were bound by no engagements, but decided 
 from the impression of reason and eloquence wdiich he produced at the 
 moment. 
 
 There w^as nothing true in this representation but Iiis estimate of tlie re- 
 Kpective force of the parties, and liis opinions concerning the means of 
 directing the Assembly. He virtually governed it, liy influencing all who 
 )iad iu)t bound tliemselves by engagements. On this same day, the 28lh of 
 February, he exercised his sway almost for the last time, displayed his 
 liatred to the Lameths, and brought his formidable povvcr to bear against 
 them. 
 
 'i'hc law rclati^'c to emigration was about to be discussed. Cliapelier 
 presented it in tlie name of the committee, wliich, he said, participated in 
 the general inihgnation against those Frenchmen who were forsaking tlieir 
 country ; but he detdarcd that, after se^'cral days' consideration, the com- 
 mittee had satisfied itself that it was impossible to make any law concerning 
 emigration. It was in reality a dilTicult tiling to do. It was necessary in 
 the lirst place to inquire if they had a right to attach men to the soil. They 
 certaii.dy had a right to do so, if the welfare of the country demand it. 
 But it was requisite to make a distinction between the motives of travellers, 
 which became inquisitorial. It was requisite to make a distinction between 
 their quality as Frenchmen or foreigners, emigrants or mere mercantile 
 men. Such a law tlien was extremely difficult, if not impossil)le. ('hape- 
 lier added that the committee, in compliance with the directions of the 
 Asseinblv, had nevertheless drawn up one, wdiich he would read, if permit- 
 ted, but which he had no hesitation in declaring violated all principles 
 From all quarters issued cries of "Read!" "Don't read!" A grea* 
 number of deputies asked leave to speak. Mirabeau demanded it in liis 
 turn, obtained permission, and, what is still more, commanded silence. He 
 read a very eloquent letter, addressed some lime before to Frederick Wil- 
 liam, in Avhich he advocated the liberty of emigration as one of tlie most 
 pacred rights of man, wdio, not being attached by roots to the soil, ought 
 not to be attached to it by any thing but by happiness. Mirabeau, perhaps 
 to gratify the court, but still more from conviction, repelled as tyrannical 
 every measure against the liberty of entering, or withdrawing from, the 
 rouiitrv. A bad use was no doubt made of this liberty at the moment; but 
 the Assembly, confident in its strength, had winked at so many abuses of 
 ihf oress committed against itself, had encountered so many vain attempts 
 
172 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 and so victoriously overthrown them, that one might safely advise it to per- 
 sist in the same system. 
 
 Mirnbeau's opinion was applauded, but the members continued to insis' 
 on the reading of the proposed law. Chapelier at length read it. It sug. 
 gested, in case of disturbances, the appointment of a commission of three 
 members, which should appoint by name, and at their pleasure, those who 
 were to be at liberty to leave the kingdom. At this cutting irony, which 
 denounced the impossibility of a law, murmurs arose. " Your murmurs 
 have soothed me," exclaimed Mirabeau ; *' your hearts respond to mine, and 
 oppose this absurd tyranny. As for me, I hold myself released from every 
 oath towards those who shall be infamous enough to admit of a dictatorial 
 commission." — Cries were raised on the left side. " Yes," he repeated, 
 ♦' I swear . . . ." He was again interrupted. " That popularity," he 
 resumed in a voice of thunder, " to which I have aspired, and whicli I have 
 enjoyed as well as others, is not a feeble reed ; I will thrust it deep into the 
 earth, and I will make it shoot up in the soil of justice and reason." Ap- 
 plauses burst forth from all quarters. " I swear," added the orator, "if a 
 law against emigration is voted, I swear to disobey you." 
 
 He descended from the tribune, after astounding the Assembly, and over- 
 awing his enemies. The discussion nevertheless continued. Some were 
 for adjournment, that they might have time for making a better law ; others 
 insisted that they should forthwith declare that none should be made, in 
 order to pacify the people, and to put an end to the ferment. Murmurs, 
 shouts, applauses, succeeded. Mirabeau asked, and seemed to require, to 
 be heard. "What right of dictatorship is it," cried M. Goupil, "that 
 M. de Mirabeau exercises here?" — Mirabeau, without heeding him, hur- 
 ried to the tribune. " I have not given you permission to speak," said the 
 president. " Let the Assembly decide." But the Assembly listened with- 
 out deciding. "I beg my interrupters," said Mirabeau, "to remember 
 that I luve all my life combated tyranny, and that I will combat it wherever 
 I find it." As he uttered these words he cast his eyes from the right to 
 the left. Loud applause followed his words. He resumed. " I beg M. 
 Goupil to recollect that he was under a mistake some time since in regard 
 to a Cataline, whose dictatorship he this day attacks ;* I beg the Assembly 
 to remark that the question of adjournment, though apparenUy simple, 
 involves others : for example, it presupposes that a law is to be made." 
 Fresh murmurs arose on the left. " Silence ! ye thirty voices !" exclaimed 
 the speaker, fixing his eyes on the place of Barnave and the Lameths. 
 "However," added he, "if it is wished, I too will vote for the adjourn- 
 ment, on condition that it be decreed that, from this time until the expiration 
 of the adjournment, there shall be no sedition." Unanimous acclamations 
 followed the concluding words. The adjournment was nevertheless carried, 
 but by so small a majority that the result was disputed, and a second trial 
 demanded. 
 
 Mirabeau, on this occasion, was particularly striking by his boldness. 
 Never, perhaps, had he more imperiously overruled the Assembly. But 
 these were his last triumphs. His end approached. Presentiments of 
 death mingled with his vast projects, and sometimes subdued his flights of 
 fancy. His conscience, however, was satisfied ; the public e-steem w»s 
 joined with his own, and assured him that, if he had not yet done enough 
 
 * M. Goupil, when attacking Mirabeau upon a former occasion, had exclaimed witt th« 
 nght wde " Cataline is at our doors !" 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 173 
 
 for the welfare of the slate, he had at least done enough for his o-\vn glory- 
 Philosophy and gaiety divided his last moments between them. Pale, and 
 with his eyes deeply sunk in their orbits, he appeared quite different in llie 
 tribune. Moreover, lie M'as subject to frequent and sudden faintinsj Ills, 
 '.xcess m pleasure and in business, together with the excitement of the 
 tribune, had in a short time undermined his vigorous constitution. Baths, 
 containing a solution of sublimate, had produced that greenish tint which 
 was attributed to poison.^' The court was alarmed; all parlies were asto- 
 nished, and, before his death, people inquired the cause of it. On his i:ist 
 public appearance he spoke five different times, left the Assembly exhausted, 
 and never afterwards went abroad. The bed of death received him, and he 
 left it only for the Pantheon. He had enjoined Cabanis not to call in any 
 physicians ; he was, nevertheless, disobeyed, and they found that death 
 was approaching, and that it had already seized his lower extremities. 
 His head was last attacked, as if nature had decreed that his genius should 
 contniue to shine till the very last moment. An immense crowd collected 
 around his abode, and filled all the avenues in tlie deepest silence. The 
 court sent messenijer after messcnijer ; the bulletins of his health were trans- 
 milted fiom mouth to mouth, and each progressive stage of his disorder 
 excited fresh grief. lie himself, surrounded by his friends, expressed some 
 regret at tlie interruption of his labours, and some pride at what he had 
 accomplished. " Support," said lie to his servant, "support this head, the 
 greatest in France." lie was afiected by tlie sympatliy of the pco})le ; and 
 the vi." it of liis enemy, Barnave, who called upon Iiim in the name of the 
 Jacobins, excited in him a soothing emotion. He bestowed some more 
 thoughts on public affairs. The Assembly was al)0ut to direct its attention 
 to the right of making wills. He sent for M. de Talleyrand, and put into 
 his hatuls a speech which he had just written. " It wmII be curious," said 
 he, " to hear a man speaking against wills who is no more, and who has 
 just made his own." The court had, in fact, requested him to do so, pro- 
 mising to pay all the legacies. Extending his views over Europe, and 
 foreseeing the plans of England, " That Pitt," said he, " is the minister of 
 
 • Tho author of the M^nioires (Tun Pair de France positively asserts that Miraheau was 
 poisoned. He says, that in 1793, Robcs[)ierre, at a moment when he was olT his guarj, 
 vonturei] to boast of tlic share which he had taken in that crime. " Two parties," he adds, 
 *' were then labouring to accomplish the ruin of the King; a third wished it without de- 
 claring itself: all of them were concerned to see that Louis XVI. inclined to a cordial 
 reconciliation with the constitution, and all dreaded the sound advice which Mirabeau had it 
 in his power to give him. It was well known that this man was the only person capable of 
 directing affairs in such a manner as to keep the factions within the limits which they hoped 
 to pass. As the issue of any attempt to strip him of his popularity was uncertain, it was 
 thought better to despatch him ; but as no assassin was to be found, it was necessary to 
 have recourse \o poison. Marat furnished the receipt for it; it was prepared under his super- 
 intendence, and he answered for its efTect. How to administer it was the next question. At 
 length it was resolved to choose the opportunity of a dinner, at which the poisonous ingre- 
 dients should be introduced into the bread, or wine, or certain dishes of which Mirabeau 
 was known to be fond. Robespierre and Petion undertook to see to the execution of this 
 atrocious scheme, and were assisted by Fabre d'Eglantine, and two or three other subordi 
 nate Orleanists. Mirabeau had no suspicion of this perfidy ; but its effects were manifested 
 immediately after a party of pleasure, ut which he had indulged in great intemperance. He 
 was soon aware that he was poisoned, and told his intimate friends so, and especially Cabanis, 
 lo whom he said ; ' You seek the cause of my death in my physical excesses ; you will find 
 il rather in the hatred borne me by those who wish for the overthrow of France, or thos* 
 who arc afraid of my ascendancy over the minds of the King and Queen.' It was imposs 
 Me to drive it out of his head that his death wa? not natural, but great pains were ta^en 10 
 prevent thia opinion from getting abroad." E. 
 
174 HISTOP.Y OF THE 
 
 preparations ; he g»vern.^ Avith threats ; I would give him some trouble if ^ 
 should live." Tiie priest of his parish came to offer his attendance, which 
 lie politely declined, saying, with a smile, that he should gladly have ac- 
 cepted it, if he had not in his house his ecclesiastical superior, the Bishop 
 of Autun. He desired the windows to be opened. "My friend," said he 
 to Cabanis, "I shall die to-day. All that can noAV be done is to envelop 
 oneself in perfumes, to crown oneself with flowers, to surround oneself 
 with music, that one may sink quietly into everlasting sleep." Acute paina 
 iVom time to time interrupted these calm and dignified observations. " You 
 nave promised," said he to his friends, "to spare me needless sufTering." 
 So saying, he earnestly begged for opium. As it was refused, he demanded 
 it with his accustomed violence. To quiet him, they resorted to deception, 
 and handed him a cup which they said contained opium. He took it with 
 composure, swallowed the draught which he believed to be mortal, and 
 appeared satisfied. In a moment afterwards he expired." This was on 
 the 20th of April, 1791. The tidings soon reached the court, the city, and 
 the Assembly. All parties had hope in him, and all, excepting the envious, 
 were filled with grief. The Assembly suspended its proceedings ; a gene- 
 ral mourning v/as ordered, and a magnificent funeral prepared. A certain 
 number of deputies v^^as asked for. " We will all go 1" they exclaimed. 
 'I'he church of St. Genevieve was converted into a Pantheon, with this 
 inscription, which at the moment that I record these facts, no longer 
 exists. 
 
 AUX GRANDS IIOMIVIES LA PATRIE REC0NNAISSANTE.1 
 
 Mhaljeau was the first admitted into it, and placed by the side of Des- 
 cartes. His funeral took place on the following day. AH the authorities, 
 the df-partment, the municipalities, the popular societies, the Assembly, and 
 the army, accompanied the procession. This mere orator obtained more 
 honours than had ever been paid to the pompous coffins formerly conveyed 
 to St. Denis. Such was the end of that extraordinary man, who, after 
 6oldly attacking and vanquishing the ancient race, dared to direct his efTorts 
 against the new, which liad assisted him to conquer ; who checked them 
 with his voice, and made them respect him even while he employed his 
 energies against them ; that man, in short, who did his duty from reason, 
 and from the promptings of genius, but not for the sake of a handful of 
 gold ; and who had the singular honour, when the popularity of all othei 
 etatesraen terminated in the disgust of the people, to see his yield to death 
 alone. But would he have infused resignation into the heart of the court, 
 moderation into the hearts of the ambitious ? — would he have said to the 
 pojnilar tribunes, who sought to shine in their turn, " Remain in these ob- 
 scure fauxbourgs?" — would he have said to Danton, that second Mirabeau 
 of the populace,! " Stop in this section, and ascend no higher?" We can 
 
 * " Mirabeau bore much of his character imprinted on his person and features. ' Figure 
 to your mind,' he said, describing his own countenance to a lady who knew him not, ' a tiger 
 who has had the small-pox.' When he talked of confronting his opponents in the Assem- 
 bly, his favourite phrase was, ' I will show them La Hure,' that is, the boar's head, meaning 
 ftis own tusked and shag-ry countenance." — Scott's Life of Napoleon. E. 
 
 ■J- "To great men the grateful countrv " 
 
 t " Georges Jacques Danton, an advocate by profession, was born at Arcissur-Arbe, Oc« 
 lobci 26, 1759, and beheaded April 5, 1794. His external appearance was striking. Hia 
 stature was colossal; his frame athletic; his features harsh, large, and disagreeable; hia 
 voice shook the Assembly ; his eloquence was vehement; and his imagination as gigantic 
 M his person, which made every one recoil, and at which, says St. Just, ' Freedom herself 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 17^ 
 
 not tell : but in that case all wavering interests would have placed them- 
 selves in liis hands and have relied upon him. Long was the want of his 
 presence felt. In the confusion of the disputes which followed, the eye 
 
 trembled.' He was one of the founders of the club of the Cordeliers. His importance 
 increased in 1702, when he became one of the instigators of the events of the 20th of June, 
 and a loader on the lOlh of August. After the fall of Louis XVL Danton was made 
 minister of justice, and usurped the appointments of oiricers in the army and departments. 
 He thus raisi'd up a great number of creatures wholly devoted to his vii?ws. Money fl^nved 
 from all sides into his hands, and was profusely stpiandcrcd on his partisans. His violent 
 measures led to the September massacres. The invasion of Champagne by the Prussians 
 spread consternation through Paris; and Danton alone preserved his courage. He assumed 
 the administration of the state; prepared measures of defence ; called on all Frenchmen 
 capable of bearing arms to march against llie enemy; and prevented the removal of the 
 A.--sembIy beyond the Loire. From this time forward he was hated by Kubespierre, who 
 could never pardon the superiority which Dantnn had shown on this occasion. On the oc- 
 casion of the Festival of Krcison, in which the Heberlists acted a conspicuous part, Danton 
 declared himself against the attack on the ministers of religion, and subsequently united 
 with Ivobespicrre to bring Hebert and his jiartisans to the scaiTold. But their connexion 
 was not of long duration. Danton wished to overthrow the despotism of Robespierre, who, 
 in his turn, was anxious to get rid of a dangerous rival. Danton was accordingly denounced 
 to the committee of safety by tSt. Just, and imprisoned with his adherents in the Luxem- 
 bourg. When he was transferred thence to the Cunciergerie, he appeared deep!}' mortified 
 at having been duped by Kobc-pierro. On his trial, he said, composedly, ' I am Danton, 
 Bufiicicntly well known in the Revolution; I slinll soon pass to nothingness; but my name 
 will live in the Pantheon of history.' He was cundemncd to death by the revolutionary 
 tiibunal as an accomplice in a conspiracy for the restoration of monarchy, and his large pro- 
 perty was confiscated. He mounted the car with courage; his head was elevated, his look 
 commanding and full of pride. On ascending the scallold, ho was for a moment softened. 
 'Oh, my wife, my dear wife, shall I never see you again?' he said, but checked himself 
 hastily, and exclaimed, 'Courage, Danton! mi weakness.' He was thirty-five years old at 
 the time of his death.'' — Encijclopacdia Amcriaina. 
 
 " During the short period that elajised before his execution, Danton's mind, in a distracted 
 state, reverted to the innocence of his earlier years. He sjnjke incessantly about trees, 
 flowers, and the country. Then giving way to uriavailing regret, he exclaimed, 'It was just 
 a year ago that I was the means of instituting the revolutionary tribunal ; may God and 
 man forgive me for what I then did ; but it was not that it might become the scourge of 
 humanity.' When his sentence was read to him in his cell, ' We are sacrificed,' said 
 Danton, 'to a few dastardly ingands, but I drag Robespierre after me in my fall.'" — 
 AUsDU. E. 
 
 "Danton had sold himself to the court, on condition that they would purchase from him, 
 for 100,000 livrcs, his place of advocate, which, after the suppression, was only worth 
 10,000 livrcs. Lafayette met Danton at M. de Montmorin's the same evening that the 
 bargain was concluded. He was a man ready to sell himself to all parties. Whde he was 
 making incendiary motions in the Jacobins, he was their spy at court, where he regularly 
 leported whatever occurred. On the Friday previous to the 10th of August, 50,000 crowns 
 were given him, and Madame Elizabeth exclaimed, ' We are tranquil, for we may depend 
 on Danton.' Lafayette was apprized of the first payment, but not of the ensuing ones. 
 Danton spoke of it himself at the Hotel de Vdle, and, endeavouring to justify himself said, 
 'General, I am a greater monarchist than you are yourself.' He was, nevertheless, one of 
 the leaders of the 10th of August." — Lafai/clles Mcniohs. E. 
 
 "Danton was sometimes denominated the Mirabeau, sometimes the Alcibiades of the 
 rabble. He may he said to have resembled both (with the difierences only of the patrician 
 order and the populace) in his tempestuous passions, popular eloquence, dissipation, and 
 debts, like the one; his ambition, his daring and inventive genius, like the other. He ex- 
 erted his faculties, and indulged h.is voluptuary indolence alternately, and by starts. Hia 
 conceptions were isolated, but complete in themselves, and of terrific efficacy as practical 
 agents in revolutions. Danton's ambition was not personal. He would freely sacrifice 
 himself for the republic or his party. He was inhuman, not so much from instinctive cro 
 elty, as from a careless prodigality of blood. He viewed the Revolution as a gieat game, iXi 
 which men played for tlieir lives. He took those he won as freely as he would have paid 
 lhos<9 he lost." — British and Foreign Review. E. 
 
176 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 would turn to the place which he had occupied, and seemed to seek him 
 who had been accustomed to terminate tUem with a victorious word. " Mi- 
 rabeau is no longer here," exclaimed Maury one day, in ascending the tri- 
 bune ; " I shall not be prevented from speaicing." 
 
 The death of Mirabeau deprived the court of all courage. Fresh events 
 occurred to accelerate the llight of the royal family which it had resolved 
 upon. On the 18th of April the King intended to go to St. Cloud. A re* 
 port was spread, that, as he did not choose to employ a priest who had 
 taken the oath for the duties of Easter, he had resolved to keep away 
 during the Passion week. Others alleged that his intention was flight. The 
 populace immediately collected and stopped the horses. Lafayette hastened 
 to the spot, besought the King to remain in his carriage, assuring him that 
 he would have a passage cleared for him. The King, nevertlieless, alighted, 
 and would not permit any attempt to be made. It was his old policy not to 
 appear to be free. By the advice of his ministers, he repaired to the 
 Assembly to complain of the insult which he had just received. Tlie 
 Assembly greeted him with its ordinary warmth, promising to do every- 
 thing that depended on it to insure liis liberty. Louis XVL withdrew, 
 applauded by all sides excepting the right side. 
 
 On the 23d of April, agreeably to the advice given to him, he ordered a let- 
 ter to be written to the foreign ambassadors by M. de Montmorin, in which 
 he contradicted the intentions imputed to him of leaving the country, de- 
 daring; to the powers that he had taken an oatii to the constitution which he 
 was determined to keep, and proclaiming as his enemies all who should in- 
 sinuate the contrary. The expressions of this letter were voluntarily exag- 
 gerated, that it might appear to have been extorted by violence. This the 
 King himself acknowledged to the envoy of the Emperor Leopold. That 
 prince was then travelling in Italy, and was at this moment in Mantua. 
 Calonne was in negotiation with him. An envoy, M. Alexandre de Durfort. 
 came from IMantua to the King and Queen to learn their real disposition. 
 He first questioned them concerning the letter addressed to the ambassadors, 
 and they replied that he might see from the language that it was wrung 
 from them. He then inquired what were their hopes, and they answered 
 that the)' had none since the death of Mirabeau ; lastly, he wished to know 
 their disposition tov/^rds the Count d'Artois, and they assured him that it 
 could not be more favourable. 
 
 In order to comprehend the motive of these questions, it should be known 
 that the Baron de Breteuil was the declared enemy of Calonne: that his 
 enmity had not ceased at the time of the emigration; and that, charged with 
 the full powers of Louis XVL* to the court of Vienna, he crossed all the 
 proceedings of the princes. He assured Leopold that the King would not 
 consent to be saved by the emigrants, because he dreaded their rapacity, and 
 that the Queen personally had quarrelled with Count d'Artois. He always 
 proposed for the welfare of the throne tlie very contrary to what Calonne 
 proposed, and lie neglected nothing to destroy the elTect of this new nego- 
 tiation. The Count de Durfort returned to Mantua, and on the 20th of 
 May, 1791, Leopold promised to set in motion thirty-five thousand men in 
 Flanders, and fifteen thousand in Alsace. He declared that a like number 
 of Swiss should march upon Lyons, as many Pisdmontcse upon Dauphine, 
 and tliat Spain should assemble twenty thousand men. The Emperor pio« 
 mised tne co-operation of the King of Prussia and the neutrality of England 
 
 • See Bertrand de Molleville on this subject. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 177 
 
 A piotest was to be drawn up in the name of the house of Bourbon, and 
 signed by the King of Naples, the King of Spain, the Infant of Parma, and 
 the expatriated princes. Until then the utmost secrecy was to be observed. 
 It was recommended to Louis XVI. not to think of withdrawing, though he 
 had expressed a desire to do so. Bret-euil, on the contrary, advised the 
 King to set out. It is possible that this advice was well meant on both 
 sides. Still it must be remarked that it was given with an eye to the inte- 
 rest of each. Breteuil, with a view to counteract Calonne's negotiation at 
 Mantua, recommended departure ; and Calonne, whose rule would have been 
 at an end if Louis XVI. had removed beyond the frontiers, caused it to be 
 intimated to him that he ought to remain. Be this as it may, tlie King 
 resolved to set out, and he frequently said with displeasure, "It is BreteuU 
 who insists on it." •• Accordingly he wrote to Bouille that he was deter- 
 mined to wait no longer. It was not liis intention to leave the kingdom, 
 but to retire to Montmedy, where he might, in case of need, be supported 
 by Luxemburg, and receive foreign aid. The Chalons road, by Clermont 
 and Varennes, was preferred, contrary to the advice of Bouille. All the 
 preparations were made for starting on die 20th of June. The general as- 
 sembled the troops on which he could place most reliance, prepared a camp 
 at Montmedy, collected forage, and alleged movements which he perceived 
 on the frontiers as a pretext for all these dispositions. The Queen took 
 upon licrself all the preparations from Paris to Cualons, and Buuille from 
 Chalons to Montmedy. Small detachments of cavalry, upon pretext of es- 
 corting money, were to proceed to different points and receive the King on 
 his passage. Bouille himself purposed to advance to some distance from 
 Montmedy. The Queen had secured a private door for quitting the palace. 
 The royal family was to travel by a foreign nam.e, and with a fictitious pass- 
 port. Every thing was arranged for the 20th, but some alarm caused the , 
 journey to be deferred until the 21st, a delay which proved fatal to this un 
 fortunate family. M. de Lafayette knew nothing whatever of die plan, nay, 
 even M. de Montmorin, though possessing the confidence of the court, was 
 entirely ignorant of it: the secret was entrusted to those persons only who 
 were indispepsable for its execution. Rumours of flight had been circu 
 lated, either because the scheme had transpired, or because it was one of those 
 alarms Avliich are so frequently raised. At any rate, the committee of re- 
 search had been apprized of it, and the vigilance of the national guard had 
 been in consequence increased. 
 
 In the evening of the 21st of June, the King, the Queen, Madame Eliza- 
 beth,t and Madame de Tourzel, governess of the royal children, disguised 
 themselves, and successively quitted the palace. Madame De Tourzel pro- 
 ceeded with the children to the Petit Carrousel, and got into a carriage 
 driven by M. de Fersen, a young foreign gentleman disguised as a coachman. 
 The King soon joined them. But the Queen, who had gone away with a life- 
 guardsman, occasioned them all the utmost anxiety. Neither herself nor 
 her guide was acquainted with the streets of Paris ; she lost her way, and 
 It was an hour before she found the Petit Carrousel. On her way thither 
 slie met the carriage of M. de Lafayette, whose attendants walked by it 
 with torches. She concealed herself beneath the wickets of the Louvre, and, 
 
 • See Bertrancl de Molleville. 
 
 •{-"Mailame Elizabeth was an angel of goodness. How often have I witnessed her kind- 
 ness to those in distress! Her heart was the abode of all the virtues. She was indulgent, 
 modest, sensible, devout, and during the Revolution displayed heroic courage." — Madanu 
 Lebrun 3 Memoirs. E. 
 
 VOL. I. — 23 
 
178 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 having escaped this danger, reached the carriage where she \vas awaited with 
 extreme impatience. The whole family, being now together, lost no time 
 in setting out. They arrived, after a long ride, at the Porte St. Martin, and 
 mounted a berline with six horses stationed there to wait for them. Madame 
 de Tourzel, by the name of Madame de Korjff, Avas to pass for a mother 
 travelling with her children; and the King for her valet de chambre. Three 
 of the life-guards, in disguise," were to precede the carriage as couriers or to 
 follow it as servants. At length they started, attended by the good wishes 
 of M. de Fersen, who returned to Paris, with the intention of setting out for 
 Bmssels. Meanwhde Monsieur proceeded with his consort towards Flan- 
 ders, travelling a different road to prevent suspicions, and lest there should 
 be a want of horses at the different stations. 
 
 They travelled all night, during which Paris knew nothing of the matter. 
 M. de Fersen hastened to the municipality to ascertain what was known 
 there. At eight o'clock people were still unacquainted with the circum- 
 stance. But the report soon got abroad and spread with rapidity. " Lafay- 
 ette sent for his aides-de-camp and ordered them to set out immediately, 
 saying that though there was little hope of their overtaking the fugitives, 
 still they must try what they could do. He issued this order on his own 
 responsibility, and in drawing it up he expressed his presumption that the 
 royal family had been carried off by enemies of the public welfare. This 
 respectful supposition was admitted by the Assembly, and invariably adopted 
 by all the authorities. At this moment the people, in commotion, re- 
 proached Lafayette with having favoured the King's escape. The aristo- 
 cratic party, on the contrary, has since accused him of having winked at his 
 flight, with the intention of stopping him afterwards, and thus ruining hira 
 by this vain attempt. If, however, Lafayette had chosen to wink at the 
 King's flight, would he have sent two aides-de-camp in pursuit of him, be- 
 fore any order was issued by the Assembly? And if, as the aristocrats have 
 surmised, he had permitted his flight merely with a view to retake him, 
 would he have allowed the carriage a whole night's start? The populace 
 was soon convinced of its mistake, and Lafayette reinstated in its good 
 opinion. 
 
 Tlie Assembly met at nine in the morning. Its attitude was as majestic 
 as it had been in the first days of the Revolution. The supposition adopted 
 was that Louis XVI. had been carried off. The utmost calmness and har- 
 mony prevailed during the whole of this sitting. The measures spontane- 
 ously taken by Lafayette were approved of. The people had stopped his 
 
 * " A group in the Palais Royal were discussing, in great alarm, the consequence of the 
 King's flight, when a man dressed in a threadbare great coat leaped on a chair and addressed 
 them thus : ' Citizens, listen to a tale which shall not be a long one. A certain well mean- 
 ing Neapolitan was once on a time startled in hia evening walk by the astounding intelli- 
 gence that the pope was dead. He had not recovered his astonishment, when, behold! he 
 was informed of a new disaster — the King of Naples was also no more. Surely, said the 
 worthy Neapolitan, the sun must vanish from heaven at such a combination of fatalities! 
 But they did not cease here. The Archbishop of Palermo, he was informed, hud also died 
 suddenly. Overcome by this last shock, he retired to bed, but not to sleep. In the morning 
 he was disturbed in his melancholy reverie by a rumbling noise, which he recognised at once 
 to be the motion of the wooden instrument which makes maccaroni. Aha! says the good 
 man, starting up, can I trust my ears? 'The Pope is dead — the King of Naples is dead — the 
 Bishop of Palermo is dead — yet my neighbour the baker still makes maccaroni. Come, the 
 lives of these great men are not then so indispensable to the world after all.' The man in 
 the greatcoat jumped down and disappeared. 'I have caught his meaning,' said a woman 
 among the listeners. ' He has told us a tale, and it begins like all tales — There was oncb a 
 ]iin(^ and a Queen' " — Scotl's Life of Napoleon. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 179 
 
 aides-de-camp at the barriers. The Assembly, universally obe} ed, ordered 
 the gates to be opened to tlicm. One of them, young Romcuf, was tlie 
 bearer of the decree conhrmhig the orders already issued by the general, and 
 enjoming the public functionaries to stop, by all the means in their power, 
 the prog;rcss of the said abduction, and to prevent the continuance oj the 
 journey. At the suggestion of the people, and upon the information fur- 
 nished by them, Romeuf took the road to Chalons, which was tlie right one, 
 as the appearance upon it of a carriage and six sufficiently indicated. The 
 Assembly then summoned the ministers, and passed a decree that tliev 
 should receive orders from it alone. At his departure Louis XVL had 
 commanded the minister of justice to send him the seal of state. The 
 Assembly directed that the seal should be retained for the purpose of being 
 affixed to its decrees : it decided at the same time that the frontiers should 
 be put in a state of defence, and tliat the ministers for foreign affairs should 
 be charged to assure tlie powers that the dispositions of the French nation 
 in regard to them remained unchanged. 
 
 M. de la Porte, intendant of the civil list, was then heard. He nad 
 received several messages from the King : among others, a note, which he 
 begged the Assemldy not to open, and a memorial stating the reasons for 
 departure. The Assembly, ready to pay due regard to all rights, returned, 
 unopened, the note which M. de la Porte was unwilling to make public, and 
 ordered the memorial to be read. It was listened to with the utmost calm- 
 ness. It produced scarcely any impression. The King complained of liis 
 (oss of power M'ithout sufficient dignity, and he seemed as much mortified 
 at the reduction of the civil list to thirty millions as at tlie loss of all liis 
 other prerogatives. Tlie Assembly listened to the complaints of the 
 monarch, pitied his weakness, and proceeded to the consideration of other 
 matters. 
 
 At this moment very few persons wished for the apprehension of Louis 
 XVI. The aristocrats beheld in his flight the realization of the oldest of 
 their wishes, and flattered themselves with the prospect of a speedy civil 
 war. The most vehem.ent members of the popular party, who already began 
 to be tired of the King, found in his absence an occasion to dispense with 
 him, and indulged the idea and the hope of a republic. The whole moderate 
 party, which at this moment governed the Assembly, wished that the King 
 might arrive safely at Montmedy; and, relying upon his equity, it flattered 
 itself that an accommodation between the throne and the nation would be 
 thereby facilitated. Few persons, at this time, were apprehensive, as 
 formerly, of seeing the monarch threatening the constitution from amidst an 
 army. The populace alone, into whom this apprehension had been studi- 
 ously instilled, continued to retain it when it was no longer felt by the 
 Assembly, and ardently wished for the recapture of the royal family. Such 
 was the state of things at Paris.* 
 
 The carriao^e which set out in the night between the 2Ist and 22d, had 
 
 • "The National Assembly never committed so great an error as in bringing back the 
 King from Varennes. A fugitive and powerless, he was hastening to the frontier, and in a 
 few hours would have been out of the French territory. What should they have done in 
 these circun>stances 1 Clearly have facilitated his escape, and declared the throne vacant by 
 his desertion. They would thus have avoided the infamy of a regicide government, and 
 attained their great object of republican institutions. Instead of which, by bringing him 
 back, tney encumbered themselves with a sovereign whom they had no just reason for 
 destroying, and lost the inestimable advantage of getting quit of the royal family without an 
 dct of cruelty." — Napoleon's Memoirs. E. 
 
180 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 performed ^eat part of the journey, and arrived without impediment at 
 Chalons about five o'clock the next afternoon. There the King, who had 
 been imprudent enough to put his head frequently out at the window, was 
 recognised. The person Avho made tliis discovery would at once have 
 divulged the secret, but he was prevented by the mayor, who was a stanch 
 royalist. On reaching Pont de Sommeville, the royal family did not find 
 the detachments which ought to have received it there ; those detachments 
 had been waiting for several hours ; but the excitement of the people, 
 alarmed at this movement of troops, had obliged them to retire. 
 
 The King, meanwhile, arrived at St. Menehould. There, still showing 
 himself at the window, he was perceived by Drouet, the postmaster's son, 
 a violent revolutionist. This young man, not having time to cause the car- 
 riage to be detained at St Menehould, posted off to Varennes. k worthy 
 quartermaster, who had observed his haste, and suspected his m olives, flew 
 after to stop him, but could not overtake him. Drouet used such speed thai 
 he arrived at Varennes before the unfortunate family. He immediately gave 
 information to the municipality, and caused all the necessary measures for 
 apprehending the fugitives to be taken forthwith. Varennes is situated on 
 the bank of a narrow but deep river. A detachment of hussars was on the 
 watch there, but the officer not seeing the treasure arrive which he had been 
 directed to wait for, had left his men in their quarters. The carriage at 
 length drove up and crossed the bridge. No sooner was it beneath an arch- 
 way through which it was obliged to pass, than Drouet, assisted by another 
 person, stopped the horses. "Your passport!" he exclaimed, and with a 
 musket he threatened the travellers if they persisted in proceeding. The 
 order was complied with, and the passport handed to him. Drouet took it, 
 and said that it must be examined by the solicitor of the commune. The 
 royal family was then conducted to the house of this solicitor, named Sausse. 
 The latter, after examining the passport, and pretending to find it quite right, 
 very politely begged the King to wait ; he accordingly waited a considerable 
 time. "When Sausse had at length ascertained that a sufficient number of 
 the national guards had assembled, he threw off all disguise, and informed 
 the prince that he was recognised and apprehended. An altercation ensued. 
 Louis declared that he was not what he was taken to be, and the dispute 
 growing too warm, "Since you acknowledge him to be your King," 
 exclaimed the Queen, angrily, " speak to him with the respect that you owe 
 him." 
 
 The King, seeing that further denial was useless, took no more trouble to 
 disguise himself. The little room was full of people. He spoke and 
 expressed himself with a warmth that was unusual with him. He protested 
 his good intentions, asserted that he was going to Montmedy, merely that 
 he might listen more freely to the wishes of his people, by withdrawing from 
 the tyranny of Paris; lastly, he insisted on continuing his journey, and 
 being conducted to the end of it. The unfortunate prince, with deep emo- 
 tion, embraced Sausse, and implored him to save his wife and his children 
 The Queen joined him, and, taking the dauphin in her arins, besough» 
 Sausse to release them. Sausse was affected, but withstood their entreaties 
 and advised them to return to Paris, to prevent a civil war. The King, or 
 the contrary, having a dread of returning, persisted in proceeding to 
 Montmedy. 
 
 At this moment Messrs. de Damas and de Goquelas arrived with the 
 detachments which had been stationed at different points. The royal family 
 considered itself as saved ; but the hussars were not to be relied on. Thf 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. ISi 
 
 nfficers nssombled ihcm, informed tlicm that the King and his family were 
 appreheiidicl, and that they must rcdeasc them. The men repHed tliat they 
 w re hir t u' nation. At the same instant the national gnards, called togethei 
 from all the environs, arrived and liiled Varennes. Tlie vvliole niffht was 
 passed m this state. At six in the morning, young Romenf arrived with the 
 decre.e of the Assembly. He found the carriage with six liorses harnessed 
 lo it. and turned towards Paris. He went up stairs and delivered tlie decree 
 with pain. A general outcry burst from the Mhole family against M. de 
 Lala)'ette, who caused them to be apprehended. The Queen even expressed 
 her astonishment that he liad not been put to death by the people. Romeuf 
 replied that his general and himself had only done their duty in pursuing 
 them, but that they had hoped not to overtake tliem. The Queen took up 
 the decree, threw it on the bed of her cliildren, tlien snatched it up again, 
 saying tliat it would pollute them. " Madame," said Komeuf, who was 
 attached to her, " would you rather liave any one but me to witness these 
 passions r' The Queen then came to herself, and itsumed all her dignity. 
 At tlie same moment tlie arrival of dilVerent corps, stationed in the environs 
 by Bouillc, was announced. The numicipalit}^ then gave orders for starting. 
 The royal family was of course ol)liged to enter the carriage, and to take 
 the road to Paris, tliat fatal and deepK' dreaded course! 
 
 Bouillc, roused in the middle of the night, had mounted a regiment of 
 horse, and set out with shouts of '■'■Lons; live the Kin;j;! Tlii3 brav^e 
 general, urged by anxiety, marched with all spccil, and proceede^^ nine 
 leagues in four hours. He arrived at Varennes, where he found several 
 corps already collected. But the King had been gone an hour and a half; 
 Varennes was barricaded, and judicious arrangements had been made for 
 its defence ; tlie bridge was broken down, and the river M'as not fordable. 
 Thus, after a first combat to carry the barricades, it would lune been neces- 
 sary to seek the means of crossing the river, and, after such a loss of time, 
 to overtake the carriao;e, which had o-ot the start bv an hour and a half. 
 Tliese obstacles rendered any attempt at rescue impossible ; and it required 
 nothing short of such an impossibility to deter a man so loyal and so enter- 
 prising as Bouillc. He retired, therefore, overwhelmed with grief and 
 morlihcation. 
 
 AVhen news of the King's apprehension arrived in Paris, he was believed 
 to be beyond reach. The people manifested extraordinary joy. The 
 Assembly deputed three commissioners, selected from the three sections o 
 the let\ side, to accompany the monarch, and to conduct him back to Paris 
 These commissioners were Barnave, Latour-Maubourg, and Petion. They 
 repaired to Chalons, and, from the moment that they joined the court, all 
 orders emanated from them alone. Madame de Tourzel removed into a 
 second carrianfe with Latour-Maubourcr ; Barnave and Petion entered that 
 of the royal family. Latour-Maubourg, a person of distinction, was a 
 friend of Lafayette, and, like him, was as stronglv attached to the King as 
 to tlie constitution. In yielding to his two colleagues the honour of being 
 with the royal famUy, it was his intention to interest them in benaif of 
 fallen greatness. Barnave sat at the back, between the King and Queen ; 
 Petion in front, between Madame Elizabeth and IMadame Royale ; the 
 young dauphin on the lap, first of one and then of another. Such had been 
 the rapid course of events ! A young advocate of some twenty years, 
 remarkable only for his abdities, and another, distinguished by his talents, 
 but, above all, by the sternness of his principles, were seated beside a 
 prince lately the most absolute in Europe, and commanded all his move- 
 
182 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 ments. The journey was slow, because the carriage followed the pace of 
 the national guards. It took eight days to return from Yarennes to Paria 
 The heat was excessive ; and a scorching dust, raised by the multitude, 
 half suffocated the travellers. At first a deep silence prevailed. The Queen 
 could not conceal her vexation. The King at length entered into conversa- 
 tion widi Barnave. It turned upon all sorts of subjects, and lastly upon the 
 fliglit to Montmedy. Both were surprised to find the others what they 
 were. The Queen was astonished at the su})erior understanding and the 
 delicate politeness of young Barnave. ■'■ She soon threw up her veil and 
 look part in the conversation. Barnave \vas touched by the good-nature of 
 the King and the graceful dignity of the Queen. Potion displayed more 
 rudeness ; he showed and received less respect. By the time they reached 
 Paris, Barnave was strongly attached to the unfortunate family, and the 
 Queen, charmed with the merits and the good sense of the young tribune, 
 had granted him all her esteem. Hence it was that, in all the intercourse 
 which she afterwards had with the constitutional deputies, it was in him 
 that she placed the greatest confidence. Parties would forgive, if they 
 could see and hear one another.t 
 
 * " Ant. Pierre Jos. Marie Barnave was a barrister, and deputy to the States-general. The 
 eon of a very rich attorney of Grenoble, he warmly espoused the revolutionary party, and 
 was named by the iiers-ctat deputy of that town to the States-general. He there showed 
 himself from the beginning one of the most implacable enemies of the court. He warmly 
 supported the Tennis-court oath, and declared loudly in favour of the assertion of the rights 
 of man. In 1790 he voted the abolition of religious orders. At the meeting of the 22d 
 of May he was one of those who were decidedly of opinion that the King chould be de- 
 prived of the right of making war and peace, and opposed Mirabeau on many great ques- 
 tions of policy. At the sitting of the 19th of June he demanded that the Assembly should, 
 before it rose, decree the suppression of all feudal titles and rights. In August he fought a 
 duel with M. de Cazales, and wounded him with a pistol-shot. Barnave had before fought 
 with the Viscount de Noailles; he had fired first, and missed his adversary, who discharged 
 his pistol in the air; the difference was then adjusted by their friends. At the time of Louis 
 XVI.'s flight, Barnave showed great presence of mind in the midst of the stupefaction of 
 the greatest part of the Assembly. On the news arriving of the King's arrest, Barnave was 
 appointed, together with Petion and Latour-Maubourg, to bring the royal family back to 
 Paris. He returned in the same carriage with them ; showed them great respect, and, by so 
 doing, lost much of his popularity. In giving an account of his mission, he spoke about 
 the inviolability of the King's person, for which he was hooted by the AssembLv. At the 
 end of the session Barnave was appointed mayor of Grenoble, where he married the only 
 daughter of a lawyer, who brought him a fortune of 700,000 livres. After the events of 
 the 10th of August, 1792, certain documents having established ihe connivance of Barnave 
 with the court, he was brought before the revolutionary tribunal of Paris, and condemned 
 to death on the 29th of November, 1793. Barnave was a small, but well-looking man, and 
 professed protestantism. Few orators of his day possessed so much grace of diction and 
 sagacity of analysis. Mirabeau himself was astonished that a young man should speak so 
 long, -so rapidly, and so eloquently, and said of Barnave, 'It is a young tree, which, hoW 
 ever, will mount high, if it be let to grow."— Biogrnphie Moderne. E. 
 
 f The following particulars of the return from Varennes were communicated to Madame 
 Oainpan by the Queen herself: 
 
 " On the very day of my arrival, the Queen took me into her cabinet, to tell me that sh« 
 had great need of my assistance for a correspondence which she had established with Messrs 
 Barnave, Du[)ort, and Alexandre Lameth. She informed me that M. dej*** was her 
 agent with these relics of the constitutional party, who had good intentions, but unfor- 
 tunately too late; and she added that Barnave was a man worthy to inspire esteem. I was 
 Burpnsed to hear the name of Barnave uttered with such kindness. When I had quitted 
 I*aris, a great number of persons never mentioned it but with horror. I made this remark 
 to her; she was not astonished at it, but told me that he was very much changed: that thii 
 young man, full of intelligence and noble sentiments, was of the class who are distinguished 
 by education, and merely mislead by the ambition arising from real merit. 'A feeling of 
 Vnde, which I cannot blame too much in a young man of the tlers-etai' said the Queea 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 183 
 
 In Paris, the reception to be given to the royal family had been Jecided 
 upon, A public notice was distributed and posted everywhere: JHio- 
 cvtr applawh the King shall be flogged ; lohoever insults him shall be 
 hanged. The order was punctually obeyed. Neither applauses nor insults 
 
 with reference to Barnave, 'has caused him to applaud all that tends to smooth the way to 
 honours and glory for the class in which he was born. If power should ever fall again into 
 our hands, the pardon of Barnave is written beforehand in our hearts.' The t^ueen adJed 
 that the same sentiments were not felt for the nobles who had thrown themselves into the 
 revolutionary party, they who obtained all favours, and frequently to the detriment of per- 
 sons of an inferior order, among whom were to be found the most splendid talents; lastly, 
 That the nobles, born to be the ramp^yt of the monarchy, were too culpable in having be- 
 trayed its cause to deserve pardon. The Queen astonished me more and more by the warmth 
 with which she justified the favourable opinion thai she had formed of Barnave. She then 
 told me that his conduct during the journey had been excellent, whilst the re{)ul>lican rude- 
 V ness of Pction had been insulting; that he ate and drank in the King's carriage with little 
 regard to delicacy, throwing fowls' bones out at the window, at the risk of hitting the King 
 in the face, lifting up his glass, when Madame Elizabeth was helping him to wine, without 
 Baying a word to signify that he had had enough ; that ihi^s otfeiisive tone was wilfully 
 assumed, since he was a man of education ; and that Barnave had been shocked at it. 
 Being pressed by the Queen to take something; ' Matlame,' replied Barnave, 'the deputies 
 of the National Assembly, under circumstances so solemn, ought to trouble your majesty 
 solely with their mission and by no means with their wants.' In short, his respectful 
 behaviour, his delicate attentions, and all that he said, had won not only her good-will, but 
 also that of Madame Elizabeth. 
 
 "The King had begun to speak to Petion on the situation of France and on the motives 
 of his conduct, which were grounded on the necessity of giving to the executive power a 
 force lequisite for its action for the welfare of the constitutional act itself, since France 
 could not be a republic . . . 'Not \et, to be sure,' replied Petion, 'because the French are 
 not yet ripe enough for that.* This audacious and cruel reply imposed silence on the King, 
 who maintained it till his arrival at Paris. Petion had the little dauphin on his knees; he 
 amused himself with rolling the fair hair of the interesting boy upon his fingers; and, in 
 the warmth of talking, he pulled his locks with such force as to make him cry .... 'Give 
 me my chibi,' said tiie Queen, 'he is accustomed to kindness, to respect, w^hich unfit him 
 for such familiarities.' 
 
 " The Chevalier de Dampierre had been killed near the King's carriage, as it left Varennes. 
 A poor village cure, a few leagues from the place where this crime was committed, had the 
 imprudence to approach for the purpose of speaking to the King: the savages who sur- 
 rounded the carriage rushed upon him. 'Tigers,' cried Barnave, ' have you ceased to be 
 French] From a nation of brave men, are you changed into a nation of murderers 1' 
 Nothing but these words saved the cure, who was already struck to the ground, from certain 
 death. Barnave, as he uttered them, had almost thrown himself out at the door, and 
 Madame Elizabeth, touched by this noble warmth, held him back by his coat. In speaking 
 of this circumstance, the Queen said that in the most critical moments she was always 
 struck by odd contrasts ; and that, on this occasion, the pious Elizabeth, holding Barnave 
 by the skirt of his coat, had appeared to her a most surprising thmg. That deputy had 
 experienced a dill'erent kind of astonishment. The remarks of Madame Elizabeth on the 
 state of France, her mild and persuasive eloquence, the noble simplicity with which she 
 conversed with Barnave, without abating an iota of her dignity, all appeared to him celestial 
 in that divine princess, and his heart, disposed undoubtedly to noble sentiments, if he had 
 not pursued the way of error, was subdued by the most touching admiration. The conduct 
 of the two deputies showed the Queen the total separation between the republican party and 
 the constitutional party. At the inns where she alighted, she had some private conversations 
 with Barnave. The latter talked much of the blunders of the royalists in the Revi)lution, 
 and said that he had found the interests of the court so feebly, so injudiciously, defended, 
 that he hfd several times been tempted to make it an offer of a bold champion, acquainted 
 with the spirit of the age and that of the nation. The Queen asked what were the means 
 that he should have advised resorting to. 'Popularity, madam. '^'And how could I have 
 anyl' replied her majesty. 'It had been taken from me.' — 'Ah, madam! it was much 
 easier for you to conquer it than for me to obtain it.' This assertion would furnish mattef 
 for comment: my task is merely to record this curious conversation." — Memoires dd Ma 
 dame de Campan, tome ii., p. 150, d seq. E. 
 
184 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 were heard. The carriage made a circuit, that it might not be obliged to 
 traverse Paris. It entered by the Champs Elysees, which led directly to 
 the palace. An immense crowd received it in silence, and with hats on. 
 Lafayette, followed by a numerous guard, had taken all possible precau- 
 tions. The three life-guardsmen who had assisted the King's flight were 
 on the box, exposed to the gaze and the wrath of the people ; they never- 
 theless experienced no violence. •' The moment the carriage arrived at the 
 palace, it was surrounded. The royal family hastily alighted, and passed 
 between a double file of national guards, drawn up for its protection. The 
 Queen, who was the last to alight, was almost borne along in the arms of 
 Messrs. de Noailles and d'Aiguillon, enemies of the court, but generous 
 friends of misfortune. On observing them approach, she had at first some 
 doubts respecting their intentions ; but she resigned herself to them, and 
 arrived safe and unharmed at the palace. 
 
 Such was that journey, the fatal issue of which cannot be fairly attributed 
 to any of tliose by Avhom it was planned. An accident thwarted it. An 
 accident might have crowned it with success. If, for instance, Drouet had 
 been overtaken and stopped by his pursuer, the carriage would have escaped. 
 Perhaps too, the King was deficient in energy Avhen he was recognised. 
 Be that as it may, this journey cannot be matter of reproach to any one, 
 either to those who advised, or to those who executed it. It was the result 
 of that fatality which pursues weakness amidst revolutionary crises. 
 
 The journey to Varennes had the effect of destroying all respect for the 
 King, of habituating men's minds to do without him, and of exciting a wish 
 for a republic. On the very morning of his arrival, the Assembly had pro- 
 vided for everything by a decree. Louis XVI. was suspended from his 
 functions ; a guard was placed over his person, and that of the Queen and 
 the dauphin. That guard was made responsible for their safe custody. 
 Three deputies, d'Andre, Tronchet, and Dtiport, were commissioned to 
 take the declarations of the King and Queen. The utmost delicacy was 
 observed in the expressions ; for never was this Assembly deficient i'n deco- 
 rum ; but the result was evident, and the King was for the time being 
 dethroned. 
 
 The responsibility imposed on the national guard rendered it strict and 
 frequently annoying in its duty about the royal persons. Sentinels were 
 constandy stationed at their door, and never lost sight of them. The King, 
 wishing one day to ascertain if he was really a prisoner, went up to a door; 
 
 • " Lafayette went forward to meet the procession. During his absence an immense 
 crowd had been allowed to approach the Tuileries ; and endeavoured, as the royal family 
 were alighting, to maltreat the two gardes-du-corps who had served as couriers during the 
 escape, and were then seated on the box of the King's carriage. The Queen, anxious foi 
 their safety, no sooner saw the commander-in-chief, than she exclaimed, ' Save the gardes- 
 du-corps ;' on which Lafayette placed them himself in security in one of the halls of the 
 palace. The royal family alighted without having experienced any insults. The King 
 was apparently calm ; Lafayette then, with a feeling of mingled respect and emotion, pre- 
 sented himself at the King's apartment, and said to him, ' Has your majesty any orders to 
 give me V — ' It appears to me,' replied the King, with a smile, ' that I am more under your 
 orders than you are under mine.' Lafayette then respectfully announced to him the decree 
 of the Assembly, at which the King testified no displeasure. The Queen, however, betrayed 
 some irritability, and wished to force Lafayette to receive the keys of the desks, which had 
 remained in the carriage. He replied, that no person thought, or would think, of opening 
 thoso desks. The Queen then placed the keys on his hat. Lafayette requested her to par- 
 don the trouble he gave her of taking back those keys, and declared that he would nol 
 touch them. — ' Well,' said the Queen, impatiently, < I shall find persons less scrupulous tbtti 
 you are.' " — Lafayette's Memoirs. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. IS5 
 
 the sentinel opposed liis passage. «' Do you know me V said Louis X VI. 
 *' Yes nre," replied the sentinel. All the liberty the King had left to him 
 was to walk in the TiiUeries in the morning, before the garden was openeo 
 to the pulilic. 
 
 Barnave and the Lameths then did what they had so severely reproached 
 Mirabcau for doing — tliey lent their aid to the throne and reconciled thein- 
 seU-es with the court. It is true that they received no money: but it was 
 not so much tlie price of the alliance, as the alliance itself, that they liad 
 flung ill til" toelb of Alirabeau ; and, after having formerly been so severe, 
 they now followed the custom of all popular chiefs, wliich is, to ally them- 
 selves succcsively willi power, as soon as they arrive at it. However, 
 nothiuL'' could be more praiseworthy in the state of atTairs at that moment, 
 than the isei-vice rendered to tlie King liy Barnave and tlie Lameths; and 
 never did tliey display more address, energy, and talent. Barnave dictated 
 the answer of the King to the commi.-sioners appointed l)y tlie Assembly. 
 In this answer, Louis XVI. assigned as the motive for liis flight a desire to 
 make liimself better acquainted with the state of public opinion ; he de- 
 clared that ho liad learned mucli on that head during liis journey, and 
 proved by a variety of fads that it luid not lieen his intention to leave France. 
 As for the protestations contained in his memorial transmitted to the Assem- 
 bly, he justly :illcgcd tliat they bore not upon the fundamental principles of 
 the consiituiion, but upon llie means of execution that were left him. 
 Now, he added, that the general will was clearly manifested to liim, he did 
 not hesitate to submit to it, and to make all tlic sacrifices requisite for the 
 public welfare. ■ 
 
 • Hero is the answer itself, the composition of Barnave, and u model of reasoning, ad- 
 dress, and dicrnity : 
 
 "I sec, gcnlli'mrn,'' said Louis X^'I. to the commissioners, "I see by the oI)jcct of the 
 mission which is q;ivcn to you, that licre is no question of an examination ; I will therefore 
 answer the inquiries of the Assembly. I shall never be afraid of making public the motives 
 of my conduct. It was the insults and menaces olfered to my family and myself on the 18th 
 of April, that weio the caiHC of my de[inrUire from Paris. Several publications have endea- 
 voured to provoke acts of violence against my person and against my family. I deemed that 
 there would not l)e safety, or even decency, for me to remain longer in this city. Never was 
 it my intention to leave the kingdom ; I had had no concert on this subject, cither with. 
 foreisTn powers or with my relatives, or with nny of the French emigrants. I can state in 
 proof of my intentions, that apartments were provided at Montmedy for my reception. I 
 had selected this place, because, being fjrtified, my family would be safer there ; because, 
 being near the frontiers, I should have been better able to oppose every kind of invasion of 
 France, had a disposition been shown to attempt any. One of the principal motives for 
 quitting I'aiis was to set at rest the argument of my non-freedom, which was likely to furnish 
 occasion for distuibances. If [ had harboured an intention of leaving the kingdcm, I should 
 not have published my memorial on the very day of my departure; I should have waited 
 till I was beyond the frontiers ; but I always entertained the wish to return to Paris. It i; 
 in this sense that the last sentence in my memorial must be taken, where it is said, ' French 
 men, and, above all, Parisions, what pleasure shall I feel in finding myself again in ycu: 
 midst !' I had in my carriage but three thousand louis in gold, and fifty-six thou- 
 sand litres in assignats. I did not warn Monsieur of my departure till a very short timo 
 before. Monsieur has gone into another country only because he had agreed with mc/lhat 
 we should not both take the same route ; he was to come back into France to me. Tho 
 passport was requisite to facilitate my journey ; it purported to be for a foreign country 
 merely because the office for foreign aOairs gives none for the interior of the kingdom. The 
 road to Frankfort was not even taken. I have made no protest but in the memorial which I 
 left before my departure. That protest does not bear, as the tenor of it attests, upon the 
 groundwork of the principles of the constitution, but on the form of sanctions; that is to 
 say, on the little liberty that I appeared to enjoy, and on the circumstance that, as the de- 
 crees had not been laid before me en Jiiasse, I could not judge of the constitution as a whole, 
 
 VOL. I — 24 
 
 3 
 
 r 
 
ISS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Bouille, in order to draw upon himself the indignation of tl e Assembly 
 addressed to it a letter, which might be called mad, but for the generous 
 motive which dictated it. He avowed himself the sole author of the King's 
 journey, though, on the contrary, he had opposed it. He declared, in the 
 name of the sovereigns, that Paris should be responsible for the safety of the 
 royal family, and that tlie slightest injury offered to them should be signally 
 avenii;ed. He added, what he knew to be otherwise, that the military means 
 of Fi-anc3 were nearly null ; that he was v/ell acquainted witli tlie points 
 where an invadino- force mio-lit enter, and that he would himself lead the 
 hostile armies into the heart of the country. The Assembly winked at this 
 generous bravado, and threw the whole blame on Bouille, who had nothing 
 to fe-ar, fur he was already abroad. 
 
 The court of t?pain, apprehending tliat the slightest movement might pro- 
 duce irritation and expose the royal family to still greater dangers, prevented 
 an attempt that was about to be made on the southern frontier, in which the 
 KnifT^hts of Malta were to assist with two frigates. It then declared to the 
 French government that its good disposition towards it remained unchanged. 
 The north behaved with much less moderation. On that side, the powers, 
 instigated by the emigrants, began to threaten. Envoys were despatched 
 by the King to Brussels and Coblentz, to come to an understanding with 
 the emigrants in those places, to acquaint them with the favourable disposi- 
 tion of the Assembly, and the hopes entertained of an advantageous arrange- 
 ment. But, no sooner had they arrived than tJiey were treated with 
 indignity, and immediately returned to Paris. The emigrants raised troops 
 in the name of tlie King, and thus obliged him to give tliem a formal contra- 
 diction. They pretended that Monsieur, who had by this time joined them, 
 was regent of the kingdom ; that the King, being a prisoner, had no will of 
 his own, and that which he expressed was only tlie will of his oppressors. 
 The peace concluded by Catherine with the Turks in the month of August 
 heightened their senseless joy, and they fancied that they had all the powers 
 of Europe at their disposal. Considering the disarming of the fortresses, 
 and the disorganization of the army, which all the officers were leaving, 
 they could not suppose the result of the invasion to be doubtful or the fitting 
 time for it far distant. They had nevertheless been out of France nearly 
 two years, and, though daily flattering themselves with the prospect, they 
 had not yet returned victorious. The powers seemed to promise much, but 
 Pitt hung back ; Leopold, exhausted by tlie war, and displeased with the 
 emigrants, wished for peace; the King of Prussia promised a great deal, 
 but had no interest in keeping his word ; Gustavus was anxious to command 
 an expedition against France, but he was at a great distance ; and Catherine, 
 who was to second him^ had scarcely got rid of the Turks, and still had 
 Poland to reduce. Besides, in order to effect this coalition, it would be 
 necessary to reconcile so many conflicting interests, that it Avas scarcely 
 possible to entertain any hope of success. 
 
 ThR chief reproach contained in the memorial relates to the difficulties in the means of 
 administration and execution. I have ascertained during my journey that public opinion 
 was decided in favour of the constitution ; I did not conceive that I could jud^e fully of this 
 public opinion in Paris; but, from the observations which I have personally made during 
 my journey, I am convinced how necessary it is for the support of the constitution to give 
 strenr^th to the powers established for the maintenance of public order. As soon as I had 
 ascertained the general will, I hesitated not, as I never have hesitated, to make a sacrifice of 
 everything that is personal to me. The happiness of the people has always been the object 
 of my wishes. I will gladly forget ail the crosses that I have experienced, if I can but insure 
 the peace and felicity of the nation." 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. IS'J 
 
 The declaration of Piliiitz ouglit more especially to have enliglUene^ the 
 emigrants rcspectmg the zeal of the sovereigns. This declaration, issued 
 jointly hy the King of Prussia and the Emperor Leopold, purported that the 
 situation of the Kmg of France was a suliject of general interest to all the 
 sovereigns, and that they would undoubtedly unite to furnish Louis .\\T 
 witli the means of establishing a government suitable to the interests of the 
 throne and of the people; that, m this case, the King of Prussia and the 
 emperor would join the other princes, to attain the same end. Meanwhile 
 fheir troops should be put into a condition fur active service. It was after- 
 wards known tliat tliis declaration contained secret articles. 'J'hey pur- 
 ported that Austria would not oppose any obstacle to the claims of Prussia 
 to part of Poland. It required this concession to induce Prussia to neglect 
 her more ancient interests by coimecling herself with Austria a<Tainst France, 
 Wliat could be expected from a zeal that it was necessary to excite In' sucli 
 moans ? And if it was so reserved in its expressions, wliat was it likely to 
 be in its acts? France, it is true, was in a disarmed state; but a whole 
 nation aroused is soon armed ; and, as tlie celebrated Carnoi observed at a 
 later period, ^vhat is impossible to twenty-Jive millions of men ? It is true 
 that the ollicers were retiring, but, Ixung generally young and owing their 
 appointment to favour, they were inexperienced and disliked l^y the army. 
 Besides, the impetus given to all the resources of war was on the point of 
 speedily producing ollicers and generals. Still, it must be confessed that, 
 even without the presumption of Coblentz, one might fairly have doubled 
 the resistance which France opposed somewhat later to her invaders. 
 
 IVIcanwhile, the Assemlily sent commissioners to the frontiers and ordered 
 great preparations. All the national guards oiTered to march. Several 
 generals tendered their services, and among others Dumouriez,'' who sub- 
 sequently saved France in the dehles of Argonne. 
 
 The Assembly, while attending to the external safety of the state, hastened 
 to complete its constitutional labours, to restore to the King his functions, 
 and if possible some of his prerogatives. 
 
 All the subdivisions of the left side, excepting the men who had just 
 assumed the new name of republicans, had rallied around one and the same 
 ystem of moderation. Barnave and Malouet went hand in hand and 
 faboured in concert. Potion, Robespierre, Buzot, and soiue others h^d 
 adopted the republic ; but their number was small. The right side persisted 
 in its imprudent conduct, and protested, instead of joining the moderate 
 majority. This majority, however, ooverned the Assembly. Its enemies, 
 who would have accused it, if it had dethroned the King, nevertheless 
 
 ' " Dumouriez, born at Cambray, and descended from a Provencal Himily engaged in the 
 law, wiis forty-seven years of age at the commencement of the Revolution. Up to that time 
 he bail lived amidst intrigues, which he was but too fond of engaging in. The first j/art of 
 his pohlical bfe was spent in discovering those by whose help he might rise; and the second, 
 in (Hscovering those who were able to support his elevation. A courtier before 1789 ; a con- 
 stitutiniial under the first Assembly; a Girondin under the second ; and a Jacobin under the 
 republic, he was eminently the creature of the time. But he had all the resources of great 
 men ; an enterprising disposition, indefatigable activity, and prompt, accurate, and extended 
 views; extraordinary impetuosity in action, and unbounded confidence in success. Ho 
 was, besides, frank, ingenious, clever, bold, equally fitted for the council and the iield ; full 
 of expedients, and knowing how to submit to the misfortune of a difficult position until he 
 could change it. It must be admitted, however, that these fine qualities were injured by 
 wveral defects, Dumouriez w'as rash, thoughtless, and extremely capricious, in consequenc* 
 of his continual thirst for action. But his great fault was, want of all political prmciple." 
 Mignet. E 
 
 
188 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 reproached it for having brought him back to Paris and replaced him on a 
 tottering throne. But what could it do ? To supersede the King by a 
 republic would have been too hazardous. To change the dynasty would 
 have been useless ; for if they meant to give themselves a King, they mio-ht 
 as well keep the one they had. Besides, the Duke of Orleans did not 
 deserve to be preferred to Louis XVI. In either case, to dispossess the 
 reigning King would have been to infringe acknowledged rights, and to send 
 to the emigrants a chief of inestimable value to them, since he would have 
 brougnt them titles which they did not possess. On the contrary, to give 
 back" to Louis XVI. his authority, to restore to liim as many of his preroga- 
 tives as they could, would be fullilling their constitutional task, and taking 
 away all pretext for civil war. In a word, it would be doing their duty; 
 for the duty of the Assembly, according to all the engagements by which 
 it had bound itself, was to establish a free, but a monarchical, govern- 
 ment. 
 
 The Assembly did not hesitate, but it had great obstacles to surmount. The 
 new term republic had piqued minds already somewhat tired of those of 
 monarc'liy and constitution. The absence and the suspension of the Kins 
 had, as we have seen, taught them to do widiout him. The journals and 
 the clubs instantly threw off the respect which had hitherto been paid to his 
 person. His departure, which, according to the terms of the decree rela- 
 tive to the residence of public functionaries, rendered deposition imminent, 
 caused it to be asserted t1iat he Avas deposed. Nevertheless, according to 
 the same decree, before he could incur the penalty ofdethronement, heniust 
 nave left the kingdom and resisted the summons of the legislative body. 
 But these conditions were of little consequence to overheated minds, and 
 they declared the King guilty and dethroned. The Jacobins and the Cor- 
 deliers were violently agitated, and could not conceive how it was that, 
 after people had got rid of the King, they could burden themselves witli him 
 again, and that of their own accord. If the Duke of Orleans had ever enter- 
 tained hopes, it was now that they might have been awakened. But he 
 must have seen how litde influence his name possessed, and above all how 
 ill a new sovereign, however popular he might be, Avould harmonize with the 
 state of people's minds. Some pamphleteers devoted to his interests, endea- 
 voured, perhaps without his knowledge, to place the crown on his head, as 
 Antony did by Caesar: they proposed to give him the regency, but he found 
 himself obliged to decline the offer in a declaration, which was thought as 
 lightly of, as himself. "A'o KtngV was the general cry at the Jacobins, 
 at the Cordeliers, in the streets, and in the public papers. 
 
 Numberless addresses were published. One of these was posted on all 
 the walls of Paris, and even on those of the Assembly. It was signed with 
 the name of Achille Duchatelet, a young colonel. He addressed himself to 
 the French : he reminded them of the tranquillity which had prevailed 
 during the journey of the king, and thence concluded that his absence was 
 more beneficial than his presence: he added that his flight was an abdica- 
 tion; tliat the nation and Louis XVI. were released from all engagements 
 towards one another; finally, that history was full of the crimes of Kings, 
 and tha^ the people ought to renounce all intention of giving themselves 
 knother. 
 
 This address, attributed to young Duchatelet, was written by Thomas 
 Paine, an Englishman, and a principal actor in the American Revolution.' 
 
 * Thomas Paine was born in 1737, at Thetford, in Norfolk, where his father, a Quaker 
 was a staymaker. He received his education at a grammar-school in his native place. In 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 189 
 
 li was denounced to llie Assembly, v/liicli, after n warm dcoate, deemed it 
 ri^ht to pass to the orde^ of tlie day, and to reply by indifTcrcnrc to advice 
 and to abuse, as it had hiihcrto invariably done. 
 
 At length, tlic commissioners charged to make their report on the aflair 
 of Varennes presented it on tlie 16th of July. In the journey, they said, 
 there was nothing culpable; and even if tlicre were, the King was invio* 
 (able. JJelhronement could not result from it, since the Kinji liad not staid 
 away long enough, and had not resisted the summons of the legislative 
 body. 
 
 lloliespicrro, Buzot, and Pttion, repeated all the well known arguments 
 against the inviolability, Duport, IJarnave, and Sallcs, answered them, and 
 it was at lenglii resolved tliat the Iving could not b(; lirought to trial on 
 account of his (light. Two articles were merely added to tlie decree of 
 inviolahilily. No sofmer was tliis resolution passed than Robespierre rose, 
 and protested strongly against it, in tlie name of humanity. 
 
 On the evening ])reeeding this decision, a great tumult had taken place at 
 the Jac(jbins. A i)etition to the Assembly was there drawn up, praying it 
 to declare that the King was deposed as a peilidioiis traitor to his oaths, and 
 that it would seek to supply his ])Ia('e i)y all the conslilutional means. It 
 was resolved that this petition should be carried on the following day to tlie 
 Champ de Mars, where every one might sign it on the altar of llu^ country. 
 Next day, it was accordiniily carried to the ])lace agreed upon, aiul the 
 crowd (d the seditious was reinforced by that of the curious, wlio wished to 
 be spectators of the event. At tliis moment the decree was passed, so that 
 it was now too late to petition. Lafayette arrived, broke down the barri- 
 cades already erected, was threatened ami even fired at, but, though almost 
 close to (he muzzle of the weapon, he escajied without injury. 'I'he nuiri» 
 cijial odicers having joined him, at length ])revailed on the populace to reti''< . 
 
 Nalioiud guards were posted to watch their retreat, and for a moment it 
 was hoped they woulil disjH'rse. But tlie tumult was soon renewed. Two 
 invalids, Avho happened to be, nol)ody knows for what purpose, under tJio 
 allar of the country, were murdered, and then the uproar became unbounded. 
 The Assembly sent for tlie municipality, aiul charcred it to preserve public 
 order. Bailly repaired to the CMiamp dc Mars, ordered the red (lag to be 
 unfurled, and, by virtue of martial law, summoned the seditious to retire. 
 
 early life he followed his father's business, and afterwards became a grocer and exciseman at 
 Lewes, but was dismissed for keeping a tol)acconist's shop, which was incompatible with hia 
 duties. In 1774 ho went to America, and became editor of the Pennsylvania Magiizine. 
 Hostilities having c >mmenced between England and the United Slates, he comjjosed his 
 celebrated pamphlr-*, ' Common Sense,' wliich was wrHteii with great vigour, and for which 
 the b'gisl.ilure of Pennsylvania voted him five hundred pounds. He was soon afterwards 
 appointed clerk to the committee for foreign affairs; when he published a scries of political 
 .jp[iea|s, which he entitled lire 'Crisis.' In 1787 he embarked for France, and, after visiting 
 Paris, went to England. On the appearance of ' Burke's lieflcctions on the French Revolu- 
 tion,' be wrote his well known 'Kights of Man,' for which he was prosecuted; but, while 
 the trial was pending, he was chosen member of the National Convention for the dcfiarl- 
 ment of Calais, and, making hi.s escape, he set out for France. On the trial of Louis A'VF 
 he voted against the sentence of death, which offended the Jacobins, who in 1793 ordered 
 him to be committed to the Luxembourg. Just previous to his confinement he had finished his 
 * Age of Iteason ;' which, when published, lost him the greater fiart of his American con- 
 nexions. On the full of Robespierre he was released, and remained in France till 1802, when 
 he endiarked again for America. His subsequent life was by no means happy; for, though 
 jiossesscd of a decent competence, yet his attacks on religion, and his habitual nitemperance, 
 had greatly narrowed the circle of his friends. He died in 1809, in his seventy-third year." 
 Er.cyclopxdia Americana. E. 
 
190 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Tills sumipons, whatever has been said of it, was just. People either 
 agreed or did not agree to the new laws. If they agreed tc them, it was 
 requisite that they should be executed, that there should be something fixed, 
 tliat insurrection shoukl not bo perpetual, and that the will of the Assembly 
 should not be modified by the decisions of the mob. It was Bailly's duty, 
 tlierefore, to carry the law into execution. He advanced, with that unshrink- 
 ing courage which he had always displayed, was fired at several times with- 
 out being hit, and at length read the customary summons. Lafayette at first 
 ordered a few shots to be fired in the air : the crowd quitted the altar of the 
 country, but soon rallied. Thus driven to extremity, he gave the word, 
 Fire! The first discharge killed some of the rioters. Their number has 
 been exaggerated. Some have reduced it to thirty, others have raised it to 
 four hundred, and others to several thousand. The last statement was 
 believed at the mon-ient, and the consternation became general. This severe 
 example quieted the agitators for a short time. As usual all the parties 
 were accused of having excited the commotion, and it is probable that seve- 
 ral of them had a hand in it, for to several tumult was desirable. The King, 
 the majority of the Assembly, the national guard, the municipal and depart- 
 mental authorities, were then unanimous for the establishment of constitu- 
 tional order; but they had to combat the democracy at home, and the 
 aristocracy abroad. The Assembly and the national guard composed that 
 middle class, wealthy, intelligent, and prudent, which wished well to order 
 and the laws; and they could not at the moment but naturally ally them- 
 selves with the King, who, for his part, seemed to resign himself to a limited 
 power. But, if it suited them to stop at the point at which they had arrived, 
 it did not suit either the aristocracy, which desired a convulsion, or the 
 y.-y- ;pl8, who sought to gain and to raise themselves still more. Barnave 
 WLS, as Mirabeau had been before him, the mouthpiece of this wise and 
 moderate middle class; and Lafayette was its military chief. Danton and 
 Camille Desmoulins* were the spokesmen, and Santerre the general, of the 
 rabble, that wished to reign in its turn. A few ardent or fanatic spirits 
 represented this rabble either in the Assembly or in the new administrations, 
 and hastened its rule by their declamations. 
 
 • "B. Camille Desmoulins, a lawyer, born at Guise, in Picardy, in 1762, was the son of 
 the Iieutenant-2:eneral of the bailiwick of Guise. His appearance was vulgar, his complexion 
 swarthy, and his looks unprepossessing. He made his first appearance at the bar to plead 
 against his own father, whom he wanted to make him a greater allowance than he could 
 afford. At the very commencement of the Revolution he formed an intimate acquaintance 
 with Robespierre. In July, 1789, he harangued a large mob in the Palais Royal with a 
 brace of pistols in his hand, and assumed the appellation of attorney-general of the lamp-post. 
 In 1792 he was appointed secretary to Danton, and organized with him the September mas- 
 sacres. He asserted frequently that society consisted of two classes of men — gentlemen and 
 sans-culottes; and that, in order to save the republic, it was necessary to take the purses of 
 tlie one, and put arms into the hands of the other. His connexion with Danton was his 
 ruin ; and his sentence of death, the word 'clemency,' which he recommended in his journal 
 of the 'Old Cordelier.' He was arrested in 1794, and, during his imprisonment he gave 
 himsRif up alternately to rage and despair. His favourite studies were the works of Young 
 and Hervey. When led to execution, at the age of thirty-three, he made the most violent 
 efforts to avoid getting into the cart. His shirt was in tatters, and his shoulders bare; his 
 eyes glared, and he foamed at the mouth, crying out while he ascended the scaffold, 'This, 
 then, is the reward reserved for the first apostle of liberty. The monsters who assassinate 
 me will not survive me long.' His wife, whom he adored, and by whom he was as warmly 
 beloved, beautiful, courageous, and sensible, begged to share his fate, and ten days afterwards 
 Robespierre sent her to the scaffold, where she exhibited much more firmness than her I'ua 
 raiid." Biograpkie Moderne, E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 1^1 
 
 LaHiyctte and Bailly were vehemently reproached for the proceedings in 
 the Champ de iMars; but both of them, considering it their duty to observe 
 the hiw, and to risk popuhirity and life in its execution, felt neither regret, 
 nor fear, for what tliey had done.- The factions were overav/ed by the 
 energy wliicli they displayed. The most conspicuous began already to think 
 of reco-ding from the blows which tliey conceived to be aimed" at them. 
 Robespierre, wlioni we have hitlierto seen supporting the most extravagant 
 propositions, trembled in his obscure habitation; and, notwitbstanding his 
 inviolability as a deputy, applied to all his friends for an asylum. Thus tlie 
 example had the desired eflect, and for a moment all the turbulent spirits 
 were quicti'd by fear. 
 
 About this time tlie Assembly came to a determination which has since 
 been censured, but the result of which did not prove so mischievous as it 
 has been supposed. It decreed that none of its members should be re-elected. 
 Robosnierre was the proposer of tliis resolution, and it was attributed to the 
 envy which he felt against his colleagues, among whom he had not shone. 
 Il-'was at least natural that he should bear them a crrudoe, havino; always 
 been opposed by them ; and in his sentiments there might have been aU^nce 
 conviction, envy, and hatred. The Assembly, whicli was accused of a de- 
 sign to perpetuate its powers, and which, moreover, displeased die rabble by 
 its moderation, was anxious to reply to all censures by a disinterestedness 
 that was perhaps exaggerated ; and it decreed that its members should be 
 excluded from the next legislature. The new Assembly was thus deprived 
 of men whose enthusiasm was somewhat abated, and whose legislative 
 science was matured by an experience of diree years. However, Avhen wc 
 see by and by the cause of the subsequent revolutions, we shall be able to 
 judge what was die importance of tliat measure which has been so frequendy 
 condemned. 
 
 This was tlie moment for completing the constitutional labours of the 
 Assembly, and for brinfifintr its stormy career to a calm conclusion. The 
 nieml)crs of tlie left side intended, by means of an agreement among them- 
 selves, to amend certain parts of the constitution. It had been resolved that 
 it should be read throughout, in order to judge of die wliole togedier, and to 
 have an opportunity of making its diflerent parts harmonize. This was 
 called die revision, which Avas afterwards, in die days of the republican fer- 
 vour, considered as most calamitous. Barnave and die Lameths had agreed 
 with Malouet to modify certain articles, which trenched upon the royal pre- 
 rogative and wliat was termed the stabdity of die throne. It was even said 
 that die plan was to re-establish die two chambers. It was arranged diat, 
 the moment die reading was finished, Malouet should make his attack ; diat 
 Barnave should dien reply with vehemence, in order die better to disguise 
 his intentions ; but diat, in defending most of the articles, he should give up 
 some as evidently dangerous, and condemned by known experience. 
 
 Such were the conditions agreed upon when the ridiculous and dangerous 
 prote^Ls of the right side, whicli had resolved to vote no more, transpired. 
 Accommodation then became impossible. The left side Avould hear no 
 more, and, when the concerted attempt was made, the cries which burst from 
 
 • " Bailly did not seek the Revolution, but it sought him, by making him play a political 
 part against his will ; but from the moment that he conceived he might be useful to hia 
 country, he would not refuse to serve it. He devoted to it moments most valuable for fcicnce; 
 and wiien we deplored the suspension of his labours, he said to us, ' I am a Frenchman, and 
 if I can co-operate in the enactment of a good law, that is preferable to a hundred ostrono- 
 mical calculations.' " — Memoirs of a Peer of France. E. 
 
192 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 all quarters, prevented Maloiiet and his partisans from proceeding.* The 
 constitution was therefore completed with some haste, and submitted to the 
 King- for his acceptance. From that moment his freedom was restored to 
 him; or, if that expression be objected to, the strict watch kept over the 
 
 ' Bouille haJ an intimate friend in Count de Gouvernet ; and, though they dinered widely 
 in their opinions, each entertained a hi'^h esteem for the other. Bouille, who does not spare 
 the constitutionalists, expresses himself in the most honourable manner towards M. de Gou- 
 vernet, and seems to place the utmost confidence in him. To give in his Memoirs an idea 
 of what was passing in the Assembly at this period, he quotes the following letter, addressed 
 to him by Count de Gouvernet on the 26lh of August, 1791 : 
 
 " I have held out hopes to you which I no longer entertain. That fatal constitution, which 
 was to be revised and amended, will not be touched. It will remain whut it is — a code of 
 anarchy, a source of calamities; and, owing to our unlucky star, at the moment when the 
 democrats themselves begin to be sensible of some of their errors, it is the aristocrats, who, by 
 refusing their support, oppose their reparation. In order to enlighten you and to justify 
 myself for having perhaps imparted to you a false hope, I must go back a little in my account 
 of things, and tell you all that has passed, since I have to-day a safe opportunity of writing 
 
 to you. 
 
 " On the day of the King's departure, and the following day, the two sides of the Assembly 
 were closely watching each other's movements. The popular party was in great consterna- 
 tion ; the royalist party extremely uneasy. The least indiscretion would have been liable lo 
 awaken the fury of the people. All the members of the right side were silent, and those of 
 the other left their leaders to propose measures, which they called measures of 5f//e/y, and 
 which were not opposed by any one. On the second day after the King's departure, the 
 Jacobins became menacing, and the constitutionalists moderate. They w^re then and they 
 still are much more numerous than the Jacobins. They talked of accommodation, of a depu- 
 tation to the King. Two of them proposed to M. Malouet conferences which were to be 
 opened the following day ; but news arrived of the King's apprehension, and then no further 
 mention was made of them. Their opinions, however, having been manifested, they found 
 themselves, from that very circumstance, separated more than ever from the furious. The 
 return of Barnave, the respect w^hich he had paid to the King and Queen, while the ferocious 
 Petion insulted their misfortunes, and the gratitude which their majesties testified to Barnavef 
 have in some measure changed the heart of that young man, which till then knew no pity. 
 He is, as you know, the ablest and one of the most influential of his party. He had, there- 
 fore, rallied around him four-fifths of the left side, not only to save the King from the fury of 
 the Jacobins, but to restore to him part of his authority, and to furnish hirn also with the 
 means of defending himself in future, by keeping in the constitutional line. In regard to the 
 latter part of Barnave's plan, nobody was in the secret but Lameth and Duport; for the 
 constitutional crowd still gave them so much uneasiness that they could not reckon upon a 
 majority of the Assembly, without including the right side; and they conceive that they 
 might rely upon it, when, in revising their constitution, they should give greater latitude to 
 the royal authority. 
 
 " Such was the state of things when I wrote to you. But convinced as I was of the 
 awkwardness of the aristocrats and their continual blunders, I was not aware how far they 
 could go. 
 
 " When the news of the King's apprehension at Varennes arrived, the right side, in the 
 secret committees, determined to vote no more, and to take no further part in the deliberations 
 or the discussions of the Assembly. Malouet disapproved this course. He represented to 
 them that, whilst the session lasted and they attended it, they were bound to make an active 
 opposition to measures^ injurious to public order and to the fundamental principles of the 
 monarchy. All Lis remonstrances were useless; they persisted in their resolution, and 
 Becretly drew up a protest against all that was doing. Malouet declared that he would con- 
 tmue to protest in the tribune, and to make ostensibly all possible efforts to prevent the evil. 
 He told me that he had not been able to bring over to his opinion more than Ihirty-five o» • 
 forty members of the right side, and that he much feared that this false step of the most zeal- 
 ous royalists would be productive of mischievous consequences. 
 
 "The general dispositions of the Assembly were then so favourable to the King, that, 
 while he was coming back to Paris, Thouret, having ascended the tribune to determine the 
 manner in which the King should be guarded (I was at the sitting), the utmost silence pre* 
 Tailed in the hall and in the galleries. Almost all the deputies, even of the left side, looked 
 confounded, during the reading of that fatal decree, but no one spoke. The president was 
 
FRENCH KEVOLUTION. 193 
 
 palace ceased, and he had hberty to retire whithersoever he pleased, to ex- 
 amine the constitutional act and to accept it freely. What was Louis XVI. 
 to do in this case ? To reject tlie constitution would have been to abdicate 
 in favour of a republic. The safest way, even according to his own system, 
 was to accept it, and to expect from time those restitutions of power which 
 he considered as due to him. Accordingly, after a certain number of days 
 he declared that he accepted the constitution. An extraordinary joy burst 
 forth at this intelligence, as if in fact some obstacle had been anticipated on 
 the part of tlie King, and his assent had been an unhoped-for concession. 
 He repaired to the Assembly, where he was received as in the most brilhant 
 times. Lafayette, who never forgot to repair the inevitable evils of political 
 troubles, proposed a general amnesty for all acts connected with the Revolu- 
 tion, which was proclaimed amidst shouts of joy, and the prisons were 
 instantly thrown open. At length, on tlie 30th of September, Tiiouret, the 
 last president, declared that the Constituent Assembly had terminated its 
 sittings. 
 
 going to put it to the vote, when Malouct abruptly rose, and with Indignant look, exclaimeJ» 
 * What are you about, gentlemen ? After apjirchenJing the King, it is proposed that you 
 should constitute him prisoner by a decree. Whither will this step lead you ] Have you 
 considered thati Would you order the King to be imprisoned V — 'No! No!' cried several 
 members of the left side, rising tumultuously ; ' we mean not that the King should be a pri- 
 soner ;' and the decree was on the point of being rejected almost unanimously, when Thouret 
 hastily added ; — 'The last speaker has not justly comprehended the terms and the object of 
 the decree. We have no intention, any more than he, to imprison the King; it is for his 
 safety and that of the royal family that we propose these measures.' And it was not till after 
 this explanation that the decree passed, though the imprisonment became an absolute reality, 
 and is continued to this day without shame. 
 
 " At the end of July, the constitutionalists, who suspected the protest of the right side, 
 without having any certainty of it, proceeded leisurely with their plan of revision. They 
 dreaded the Jacobins and the aristocrats more than ever. Malouct went to their committee 
 of revision. He at first addressed them as men who had nothing to learn respecting the 
 dangers and the faults of their constitution ; but he found them less disposed in favour of 
 great reforms. They weie afraid of losing their popularity. Target and Duport opposed his 
 arguf/icnts, and defended their work. Nc t day he met Chapelier and Barnave, who at first 
 disdainfully refused to answer his provocations, and at length agreed to the plan of attack, all 
 the risks of v^'hich he was ready to incur. He proposed to discuss, in the sitting of the 8th, 
 all the principal points of the constitutional act and to point out all its vices. ' You, gentle- 
 men,' said he, ' answer nie. Overwhelm mc unanimously with your indignation. Defend 
 your work with advantage on the least dangerous articles, even on the plurality of the points, 
 against which my censure will be levelled ; and as for those which I shall characterize as 
 anti-monarchical, as preventing the action of the government, say that neither the .'\ssembly 
 nor the committee needed my remarks on that head ; that you intend to propose their reform ; 
 and forthwith propose it. Be assured that it is our only resource for upholding the monarchy, 
 and for returning in time to give all the support that is necessary for it.' This was accord- 
 ingly agreed upon : but, the protest of the right side having become known, and its persever- 
 ance in not voting having deprived the. constitutionalists of all hope of succeeding in their 
 plan of revision, which the Jacobins ofiposed with all their might, they gave it up. Malouet, 
 who had no regular communications with them, nevertheless made his attack. He solemnly 
 rejected the constitutional act as anti-monarchical, and as impracticable of execution in 
 several points. The development of his motives had begun to produce a considerable im 
 pression, when Chapelier, who had no further hope from the execution of the agreement, 
 broke it, crying blasphemy, interrupting the speaker, and requiring that he should be ordered 
 to leave the tribune: which was accordingly done. Next day he acknowledged that he was 
 in the wrong; but he said that bo and his partisans had lost all hope, from the moment when 
 they had no further aid to expect from the right side. 
 
 " I was obliged to relate to you this long history lest you should lose all confidence in my 
 prognostics. 'J'hey are gloomy, now : the evil is extreme ; and to repair it, I perceive, eithei 
 within or without, but one remedy, which is the union of force with reason." — Mcmoirca (U 
 Bout lie, p. 288, c/ icy. 
 VOL. I. — 25 
 
194 HISTORY OF THF 
 
 THE NATIONAL LEGISLATIVE ASSEMBLY, 
 
 The Conslltuent Assembly had now terminated its long and laborioua 
 career ; end, notwithstanding its noble courage, its perfect equity, and ita 
 immense toils, it was hated as revolutionary at Coblentz, and as aristocratic 
 at Paris. In order to form a proper judgment of this memorable Assembly, 
 which combined talents so great and so diversified, the resolutions of which 
 were so bold and so persevering, and in wliich were seen, perhaps for the 
 first time, all the enlightened men of a nation assembled with the will and 
 the power to realize the wishes of philosophy, we must consider the state 
 in which it had found France, and that in wliich it left her. 
 
 In 1789 tlie French nation knew and felt all the evils it suffered under, 
 but it did not conceive the possibility of curing them. All at once, on the 
 unforeseen demand of the parliaments, the States-general were convoked, 
 the Constituent Assembly was formed and came into the presence of the 
 throne, proud of its ancient power, and disposed at most to put up with a 
 few complaints. Thoroughly impressed with its rights, it then declared 
 itself to be the nation, and dared to declare this to the astonished govern- 
 ment. Threatened by the aristocracy, by the court, and by an army, not 
 yet foreseeing the popular commotions, it declared itself inviolable, and 
 forbade power to touch it. Convinced of its rights, it addressed itself to 
 enemies who were not convinced of theirs, and, by the mere expression 
 of its determination, gained the ascendancy over a power of several centu- 
 ries, and an array of thirty thousand men. Such was the Revolution. Such 
 was its first and noblest act. It was just — it was heroic ; for never did 
 nation act with greater propriety, or amid greater dangers. 
 
 Power being vanquished, it became necessary to reconstitute it in a just 
 and suitable manner. But, at the sight of that social ladder, on the summit 
 of which there is a superabundance of everything — power, honours, wealth; 
 whilst at the bottom everything is wanting, even to the bread that is indis- 
 pensable for life — the Constituent Assembly experienced a violent reaction 
 in its ideas, and was for reducing all to one level. It decided, therefore, 
 that the mass of the citizens, placed on a complete equality, should express 
 their will, and that the King should be charged only with its execution. 
 
 Its error here consists, not in having reduced royalty to a mere magis- 
 tracy, for the King had still sufficient power to uphold the laws, and more 
 than magistrates possess in republics, but in having imagined that a King, 
 with the recollection of what he had been, could resism himself to be what 
 he was ; and that a nation, scarcely awakened, which had recovered part 
 of the popular power, would not determine to conquer it entirely. 
 
 History proves, in fact, that it is necessary to divide magisti'acies to 
 infinity, or that, if a single chief be appointed, he must be so well endowed 
 us to have no temptation to usurp. 
 
 When nations, engrossed by their private interests, find it necessary to 
 transfer tl:e cares of government to a chief, they do right to give them* 
 lelves one ; but, in this case, that 3hief must, like the kings of England 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 195 
 
 possess in reality the greatest part of the soverei^ty, and the power 0/ 
 convoldng and dissolving the national assemblies, without being compelled 
 to obey their mandates, sanctioning them only when he tliinks fit, and being 
 prevented only from doing what is mischievous. The dignity of man can 
 still be preserved under such a government, when the law is strictly ob- 
 served, when every citizen feels his own value, and knows that powers so 
 extensive left to the prince have only been granted as a concession to human 
 weakness. 
 
 But it is not at the moment when a nation suddenly betliinks itself of its 
 rights that it can renounce all its prerogatives, submit to take a secondary 
 part, and yield the supreme power to a chief, lest he should feel an inclina- 
 tion to usurp it. The Constituent Assembly was equally incapable with 
 the nation itself of consenting to such an abdication. It reduced the Kinsr, 
 therefore, to a mere hereditary magistrate, hoping that the nation M'ould 
 leave him that, and that he would him.'ielf be content with this magistracy, 
 still respU^ndent with honours, wealth, and power. 
 
 But, whether the Assembly hoped this or not, could it in such a state of 
 uncertainty, evade the question ? Could it abolish royalty, or could it con- 
 fer on it all the power that England grants to her monarclis ? 
 
 It could not, on the one hand, depose Louis XVI.; for, if it is always 
 necessary to introduce a spirit of justice into a government, it is not so to 
 change its form, when that spirit exists in it, and suddenly to convert a mo- 
 narchy into a republic. Moreover, possession carries \vith it authority, and 
 if the Assembly had despoiled the reigning dynasty, what would not its 
 enemies have said, who accused it of violating properly because it attacked 
 feudal rights ? 
 
 On the other hand, it could not confer on the King tlie absolute veto, the 
 appointment of the judges, and other similar prerogatives, because public 
 opinion was adverse to such concessions ; and, as this opinion constituted 
 its only strength, the Assembly was obliged to defer to it. 
 
 AVith regard to the establishment of a single chamber, its error was, per- 
 haps, more real, but just as inevitable. If it was dangerous to leave notliing 
 but the remembrance of power to a king who had possessed it entire, while 
 legislating for a people desirous of Avresting from him the last remnant of 
 it; much more false was it in principle.not to recognise social inequalitiea 
 and gradations, when they are admitted (by republics themselves, and when 
 in all of them there is a senate either hereditary or elective. But we must 
 not require of men and minds more than they are capable of at the time 
 How can the necessity of ranks be recognised at the moment of a revolt 
 against their injustice? How is it possible to constitute an aristocracy at 
 the moment when war is proclaimed against aristocracy ? To constitute 
 royalty wovdd have been an easier task, because, placed apart from the peo- 
 ple, it would have been less oppressive, and because it moreover performs 
 functions which seem more necessary. 
 
 But, I repeat it, if these errors had not existed in the Assembly, they ex- 
 isted in the nation ; and the course of events will prove that, if the Assem- 
 bly had left the King and the aristocracy all the powers Mdiich it did not 
 leave tlicm, the Revolution would, nevertheless, have talven place, even to 
 its greatest excesses. 
 
 To be convinced of this, we must make a distinction between the revolu 
 tions which have taken place among nations long in a state of subjection, 
 and those which have taken place among free people, that is to say, people 
 in possession of a certain political activity. At Rome, at Athens, and else 
 
196 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 where, we see tho people and their chiefs disputing for the greater or lesi 
 share of authority. Among modern nations entirely stripped of it, the 
 course is different. Completely subjected, their slumber is lix.g. The 
 more enlightened classes are the first to awake. These rouse themselves 
 and recover a portion of power. The awakening is progressive. Ambition 
 is progressive too, and keeps spreading to the lowest classes, till the whole 
 mass is in motion. Presently, satisfied with what they have obtained, the 
 enlighted classes wish to stop ; but they can no longer do so, and are inces- 
 santly pushed forward by those behind them. Those who stop, were they 
 in the very last rank but one, if they pretend to oppose the last, are to it an 
 aristocracy, and are stigmatized with the name. The mere tradesman is 
 called aristocrat by the artisan, and hated as such. 
 
 The Constituent Assembly represented that class which first awakes and 
 cries out against power while yet all-powerful. Sagacious enougli to per- 
 ceive what was due to those who had everything and to those who had no- 
 ihing, it wished to leave the former part of what they possessed, because 
 they had always possessed it, and to procure for the latter, above all things, 
 knowledge, and the rights which it confers. But regret sways the one, am- 
 bition the other. Regret wishes to recover all, ambition to conquer all, and 
 a war of extermination commences. The constituents then, are those first 
 good men, who, shaking off slavery, attempt to establish a just system, try it 
 without apprehension, nay, accomplish this immense task, but fail in endea- 
 vouring to persuade the one to yield something, the other not to grasp at 
 everything. 
 
 The Constituent Assembly, in its equitable allotments, had shown for- 
 bearance towards the former possessors of power. Louis XVI., with the 
 title of King of the French, an income of thirty millions, the command of 
 the armies, and the right of suspending the national decrees, still possessed 
 extensive prerogatives. The recollection of absolute power alone can 
 excuse him for not having been content with so brilliant a remnant of abso- 
 lute power. 
 
 The clergy, stripped of the immense possessions which had formerly 
 been given to it, on condition of relieving the poor whom it did not relieve, 
 and of performing that divine worship which it left to be performed by poor 
 curates, was no longer a political order. But its ecclesiastical dignities 
 were preserved, its dogmas respected, its scandalous wealth changed into a 
 sufficient, nay, we may say, an abundant revenue, for it still possessed con- 
 siderable episcopal luxury. The nobility was no longer an order; it no 
 longer possessed the exclusive right of killing game and the like ; it was no 
 longer exempt from taxes ; but could it make these things a subject of rea- 
 sonable regret? Its immense possessions were left to it. Instead of the 
 favour of the court, it had a certainty of the distinctions conferred on merit. 
 It had the privilege of being elected by the people, and of representing it 
 in the state, if it could but show the slightest good-will and resignation. 
 The robe and the sword were insured to its talents : why then was it not 
 all at once inspired with a generous emulation ? What an avoAval of inca- 
 pacity did it not make in regretting the favours of former times ! 
 
 The old pensioners had been spared ; the ecclesiastics had received in 
 demnities ; every one had been treated with indulgence : was then the lot 
 which the Constituent Assembly had assigned to all so intolerable? 
 
 The (constitution being completed, the King had no hope left of recover- 
 ing, by means of the legislation, the prerogatives which he regretted. He 
 had bat one course to pursue, to be resigned and to uphold tlie constitution, 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 197 
 
 unlefis he reckoned upon the foreign powers. But he lioped very little from 
 their zeal, and distrusted the emigrants. He decided, tlierefore, in favour 
 of the former line of conduct, and what proves his sincerity is, that he 
 meant frankly to point out to the Assembly the defects which he found in the 
 constitution. But he Avas dissuaded from doing so, and he resolved to tnist 
 to time for those restitutions of power which he deemed his due. The 
 Queen was not less resigned. " Courage !" said she to Bertrand, the minis- 
 ter, who waited upon her, ** all is not yet lost. The King is determined 
 to adhere to the constitution : that course is certainly the best." And 
 there is every reason to believe that, if she had had otlicr thoughts to utter, 
 she would not liave hesitated to express them before Bertrand de MoUe- 
 ville.* 
 
 The old Assembly had broken up. Its members had returned to the 
 
 • This minister has piven such an account of the dispositions of the King and Queen, at 
 the commencement of the IJrst legislature, as leaves but httle doubt of their sincerity. He 
 relates the first interview with these august personages as follows: 
 
 "After replying to some general observations which I had made on the difTioulty of cir- 
 cumstances and on the numberless faults which I was liable to commit in a department with 
 which [ was unacquainted, the King said to me, ' Well, have you still any objection?' — 'No, 
 eire ; the wish to please and to obey your majesty is the only sentiment that I feel; but, to 
 know if I can flatter myself with the prospect of serving you usefully, it would be necessary 
 that you should let me know what is your plan relative to the constitution, and what the lino 
 of conduct which you wish your ministers to pursue.' — ' Very true,' replied the King, 'I 
 consider that constitution as by no means a masterpiece; in my opinion it has very great 
 defects, and if I had been at liberty to address some observations to the Assembly, very 
 beneficial reforms might have resulted from them ; but now it is too late, and I have accepted 
 it such as it is, I have sworn to cause it to be executed, and I ought and will be strictly faith- 
 ful to my oath ; and the more so, as I believe the most rigorous execution of the constitution 
 to be the surest means of making the nation acquainted with it, and rendering it sensible of 
 the changes that it would be well to introduce in it. I have not, neither can I have, any other 
 plan than this ; I will assuredly not deviate from it, and it is my wish that the ministers 
 should conform to it.' — * This plan, sire, appears to me infinitely prudent: I feel myself capa- 
 ble of following it, and I engage to do so. I have not sufficiently studied the new constitu- 
 tion cither as a whole, or in its details, to have a decided opinion U[)nn it, and I will abstain 
 from adopting one, be it what it may, before its execution has enabled the nation to appre- 
 ciate it by its effects. But, may I be permitted to ask your majesty if the Queen's opinion 
 on this point agrees with the King's!' — 'Yes, precisely; she will tell you so herself 
 
 " I went down stairs to the Queen, who, af(er declaring with extreme kindness that she 
 felt under as much obligation to me as the King, for having accepted the ministry under 
 such critical circumstances, added these words : ' The King has acquainted you with his 
 intentions relative to the constitution ; do you think that the only plan he has to follow is 
 to adhere to his oath]' — 'Most certainly, madam.' — ' Well, be assured that nothing shall 
 induce us to change. Come, M. Bertrand, courage ! I hope that with patience, firmness, 
 and perseverance, all is not yet lost.' " — Bertrand de Molleville, tome vi., p. 2'2. 
 
 The testimony of M. Bertrand is corroborated by that of Madame Campan, which, though 
 sometimes suspicious, has on this occasion very much the air of truth. 
 
 " The constitution had been, as I have said, presented to the King on the 3d of September- 
 I recur to this presentation because it furnished a very important subject of deliberation. All 
 ihe ministers, except M. de Moiitmorin, insisted on the necessity of accepting the constitu- 
 tional act in its entire state. Such, too, was the opinion of the Prince de Kaunilz. Malouet 
 wished that the King would frankly point out the vices and dangers which he discovered in 
 «be constitution. But Duport and Barnave, alarmed at the spirit which prevailed in tho 
 association of the Jacobins, and even in the Assembly, where Robespierre had already de- 
 nounced them as traitors to the country, and apprehensive of great calamities, agreed in 
 opinion with the majority of the ministers and M. de Kaunitz. Those who sincerely wished 
 to uphold the constitution, advised that it should not be accepted purely and simply : of thin 
 number were, as I have mentioned, Messrs. Montmorin and Malouet. The King appeared 
 lo Uke their advice ; and this is one of the strongest proofs of the sincerity of the unfortu 
 littte monarch." — Mcmoirts de Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 161. 
 
I9d HISTORY OF THE 
 
 bosom of their families, or were scattered throughout Paris. Seme of tlie 
 most conspicuous, such as Lameth, Duport, Barnave, communicated with 
 the court, and gave it their advice. But the King, resolved as he was to 
 observe tlie constitution, could not make up his mind to follow the advice 
 that he received ; for not only was it recommended to him not to violate 
 that constitution, but by all his acts to induce the belief that he was sin- 
 cerely attached to it. These members of the late Assembly, joined by 
 Lafayette since the revision, were the chiefs of that first revolutionary 
 generation, which had laid down the first rules of liberty, and desired thai 
 they should be adhered to. They were supported by tlie national guard, 
 whom long service under Lafayette had strongly attached to him and to hig 
 principles. The constituents then fell into an error — that of disdaining thp 
 new Assembly, and frequently irritating it by their contempt. A sort of 
 aristocratic vanity had already seized these first legislators ; and it seemed 
 as though all legislative science had disappeared along with them. 
 
 The new Assembly was composed of different classes of men. It in- 
 cluded enlightened partisans of the first Revolution : Ramond, Girardin, 
 Vaublanc, Dumas, and others, who called themselves constitutionalists, and 
 occupied the right side, where not one of the late privileged class was to 
 be found. Thus, by the natural and progressive march of the Revolution, 
 the left side of the first Assembly was destined to become tlie right of the 
 second. Next to the constitutionalists came many distinguished men, whose 
 heads were heated, and whose expectations were exaggerated by the Re- 
 volution. Witnesses of the labours of the Constituent Assembly, and im- 
 patient as lookers-on, they were of opinion that enough had not yet been 
 done. They durst not avow themselves republicans, because, on all sides, 
 people mutually exhorted one another to be faithful to the constitution ; but 
 the experiment of a republic which had been made during the journey of 
 Louis XVL, and the suspicious intentions of the court, were incessantly 
 leading their minds back to that idea; and they could not but attach them- 
 selves to it more and more from their continual hostilities with the govern- 
 ment. 
 
 Among this new generation of talents, the most remarkable were the 
 deputies of La Gironde, from whom the whole party, though composed of 
 men from all the departments, derived the name of Girondins. Condorcet,* 
 
 • " Marie Jean Nicholas Caritat, Marquis tie Condorcet, was born in 1743. His was one 
 ef the oldest families in Dauphine. He was educated in the college of Navarre, at Paris, 
 and from early youth devoted himself to the study of the exact sciences. The Duke of 
 Rochefoucault was his patron ; and introduced him into the world at the age of nineteen. 
 With astonishing facility Condorcet treated the most difficult problems in mathematics, and 
 gained such celebrity as a man of science, that, in 1777, he was made secretary to the Aca- 
 demy of Sciences. He contributed several articles to the ' Encyclopedia,' and was intimate 
 with most of the writers of that great work. Under a cold exterior, Condorcet concealed 
 the most violent passions. D'Alembert compared him to a volcano covered with snow. On 
 the intelligence of the King's flight, he defined the royai dignity as an anti-social insti- 
 tution. In 1792 he was appointed President of the Assembly, and composed the proclama- 
 tion addressed to the French and to Europe, which announced the abolition of royalty. On 
 the trial of Louis he voted for the severest sentence not capital; at the same time he voted 
 for the abolition of capital punishments, except in crimes against the state. In 1793 he was 
 accused of being an accomplice with Brissot, and, to save his life, concealed himself in the 
 house of Madame Verney, where he remained eight months, during which period, though 
 in constant fear of discovery, he wrote one of his best philosophical treatises. Having at 
 length learned that death was denounced against all who harboured a proscribed individual, 
 he left his generous hostess, and fled in disguise from Paris. He wandered about for some 
 f me, until, driven by hunger, he entered a small inn at Cianwr, whe'e he was arrested as a 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 193 
 
 a writer celebrated for the comprehensiveness of his ideas, and for an ex- 
 treme austerity of mind and character, was its writer; and Vergniaud,* a 
 pure and persuasive extempore speaker, was its orator. This party, in- 
 creased continually by all who despaired of the court, did not want such a 
 republic as fell to it in 1793. It dreamt of one with all its fascinations, 
 widi its severe virtues and manners. Enthusiasm and vehemence were ot 
 course its principal characteristics. 
 
 Such a party could not but have its extremes. There were Bazire, Merlin 
 de Thionville, and others ; who, thougli its inferiors in talent, were its 
 superiors in boldness. They became the party of the Mountain, Avhen, 
 after the overllirow of the throne, they separated from the Girondins. This 
 second Assemldy had also, like the first, a middle mass, which, widiout 
 being bound to any party, voted first with the one and then with the oUier. 
 Under the Constituent Assembly, when real liberty still prevailed, tliis masa 
 had remained independent; but, as it was not so from encrtry but from in- 
 difference, in the subsequent Assemblies and during the reign of violence, 
 it became cowardly and contemptible, and received tiie tri\ial and igno- 
 minious name of belly [venire) 
 
 The clubs gained at this period a very different kind of importance. 
 Agitators under the Constituent, they became rulers under the Legislative, 
 Assembly. The National Assembly could not contain all tlie ambitious ; 
 they betook themselves therefore to the clubs, wliere they found a theatre 
 for their declamation and passions. Thither resorted all who longed to 
 speak, to take an active part, to agitate themselves, that is to say, almost 
 the whole nation. The people ran h) this new sight: they filled the tribunes 
 of all the Assemblies, and there found, from this time forward, a lucrative 
 employment, for they began to be paid for their applause. Bertrand, the 
 minister, confesses that he paid tlicm himself. 
 
 The oldest of the clubs, that of the Jacobins, had acquired extraordinary 
 importance. A church \vas scarcely suflrcient to hold the crowd of its 
 members and auditors. An immense amphitheatre rose in the form of a 
 circus and occupied the whole great nave of the church of the Jacobins. A 
 desk was placed in the centre, at which sat the president and the secretaries. 
 Here the votes were collected, and here reports of the deliberations were 
 entered in a register. An active correspondence kept up the zeal of the 
 societies which were scattered over the entire surface of France, and were 
 called affiliated societies. This club, from its seniority and persevering 
 violence, had constantly maintained an ascendancy over all those that had 
 
 Buspicious person, and thrown into prison. On the following morning, March 28, 1794, he 
 was founJ dead on the floor of his room, having apparently swallowed poison, which he 
 always carried about him, and which nothing but his love for his wife and daughter pre- 
 vented him using before." — Enci/cJopvedia Americana. E. 
 
 * " Vergniaud was the most eloquent speaker of the Gironde, but he had not the vigour 
 requisite for the leader of a party in troubled times. Passion, in general, had little influence 
 over his mind. He was humane, gentle, and benevolent; difficult to rouse to exertion, and 
 still more to be convinced of the wickedness, either of his adversaries or a large part of his 
 supporters. But when great occasions arose, he poured forth his generous thoughts in 
 etreams of eloquence which never have been equalled in the French Assembly. It was not 
 rike that of Mirabeau, broken and emphatic, but uniformly elegant, sonorous, and flowing, 
 Bwelling at limes into the highest strains of impassioned oratory. Gaudet was more ani- 
 mate;, than Vergniaud ; but Gensonne, with inferior talents for speaking, was nevertheless 
 looked up to as a leader of his parly, from his firmness and resolution of character Barba- 
 roux. a native of the south of France, brought to the strife of faction the ardent tempera- 
 ment ((f his sunny climate. He was resolute, sagacious, and darhig, and early divined lh« 
 bloodv desiga? of the Jacobins." — Alison. E. 
 
200 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 desired to show themselves more moderate or even more vehement. Aftef 
 the journey to Varennes, the Lameths, with all its mjst distinguished mem- 
 bers, left It and joined the Feuillans. In ihis latter were blended all the 
 attempts at moderate clubs, attempts which had never succeeded, because 
 they ran counter to the feeling which caused people to frequent the clubs— 
 the* desire of agitation. It was at the Feuillans that the constitutionalists, 
 )r partisans of the first Revolution, now met. Hence the name of Feuillant 
 became o, ground of proscription, when that of moderate was unpopular. 
 
 Another club, that of the Cordeliers, endeavoured to rival in violence 
 that of the Jacobins. Camille Desmoulins was its secretary, and Danton 
 its president. The latter, who had not been successfid at the bar, had 
 gained the adoration of the multitude, which he powerfully excited, by his 
 athletic figure, his sonorous voice, and his popular passions. The Cordeliers 
 however were not able, even with the aid of exaggeration, to eclipse their 
 rivals, to whom habit brought a concourse of auditors. But almost all of 
 them belonged to the Jacobin club, and when occasion required, they re- 
 paired thiiher in the train of Danton, to swell the majority in his favour. 
 
 Robespierre, whom we have seen, in the lime of the Constituent Assem- 
 bly, distinguishing himself by the severity of his principles, was excluded 
 from the Legislative Assembly by the decree of non-re-election, to the pass- 
 insr of which he had himself contributed. He had intrenched himself at 
 the Jacobins, where he ruled without partner, by the dogmatism of his 
 opinions and by a reputation for integrity which had gained him the epithet 
 of incorruptible. Panic struck, as we have seen, at the moment of the 
 revision, he had since taken courage, and continued the work of his popu- 
 larity. Robespierre had found two rivals whom he began to hate — Brissot* 
 and Louvet.t Brissot, mixed up with all the men of the first Assembly, a 
 
 * "The principal leader of the Gironde was Brissot, who had been a member of the mu- 
 nicipality of Paris during the preceding session, and now belonged to the Assembly. The 
 opinions of Brissot, who wished for d complete reform ; his great activity of mind, which 
 exerted itself by turns in the journal called the * Patriot,' in the rostrum of the Assembly, 
 and at the club of the Jacobins ; and his accurate and extensive acquaintance with the 
 situations of foreign powers, combined to give him great influence at a moment when 
 France was distracted with the strife of parties." — Mignet. 
 
 "Brissot de Warville was born in 1754, at a village near Chartres. His fiither kept a 
 cook's shop, which occasioned the saying that the son had all the heat of his father's 
 stoves. After passing four years in an attorney's office, he turned author, and, at twenty 
 years of age, had already published several works, one of which occasioned his imprison- 
 ment in the Bastille in 1784. He married a person attached to the household of Madame 
 d'Ofleans, and afterwards went to England. He lived there on pay as a spy from the lieu- 
 tenant of police at Paris. At the same lime he employed himself in literature, and en- 
 deavoured to form an academy in London ; but, this speculation proving unsuccessful, he 
 returned to France, and distinguished himself greatly during the Revolution. At the time 
 of the trial of Louis XVI. he strove to bring the subject of his condemnation before the 
 people, and afterwards voted for his death, though he was anxious to obtain a reprieve. 
 Being denounced, together with the rest of the Girondins, by the Jacobins, he was guillo- 
 tined in 1793. Brissot was thirty-nine years of age, of middle stature, slightly formed, and 
 pale. He was so passionate an admirer of the Americans, that he adopted the appearance 
 of a Quaker, and was pleased to be mistaken for one." — Biograpkie Moderne. E. 
 
 ■j- "Jean Baptiste Louvet do Couvray was an advocate, and distinguished actor in the 
 Kevolution. He attached himself to the Girondins, and was included in an order of arrest 
 issued in 1794 against that party. He, however, managed to escape, and lay concealed in 
 Paris until after the fall of Robespierre. He subse<iuently published an account of his 
 adventures during the time of his proscription — a work written in a romantic style, and 
 which has been translated into many languages. Louvet died at Paris in 1797. He ii 
 chiefly known in literature as the author of that licentious novel, The Chevalier Faublas* 
 
 Encyclopaedia Americana. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 80J 
 
 Vicnd of Mirabcaii and Lafayette, known to be a republican, and one of tlie 
 most distinguished members of the legislature, was fickle in character, but 
 remarkaljle for certain qualities of mind. Louvet, with an ardent spirit, an 
 sxcclJcnt understanding, and great boldness, was one of those, who, having 
 outstripped the Constituent Assembly, dreamt of a republic. Hence they 
 ;iaturally approximated to the Girondins. His contests with Robespierre 
 soon attached him still more to them. This party of the Gironde, formed 
 by degrees, without design, by men possessing too much merit to ally 
 themselves to tlic populace, and distinction enough to be envied by it and 
 its leaders, and who were united rather by their situation than by any con- 
 cert, was destined to be brilliant but weak, and to fall before the more 
 resolute factions which sprang up around it. 
 
 Sucli then was the state of France. Tlie lately privileged persons had 
 retired beyond the Kliinc. The partisans of the constitution comprehended 
 the right of the Assembly, the national guard, and the club of the Feuillans. 
 The Girondins liad the majority in the Assembly, but not in the clubs, 
 where low violence had greater sway. Lastly, the hot-headed democrats 
 of this new epoch, seated on the highest benches of the Assembly, and 
 thence denominated the Mountain, were all-powerful in the clubs and 
 among the populace. 
 
 Lafayclte liad resigned all military rank and had been accompanied to his 
 country-scat by the homage and regret of his companions in arms. The 
 command had not been confen-ed on a new general, but six ciiiefs of legions 
 commaiuled by turns the whole national guard. Bailly, the faithful ally of 
 Lafayette during those three arduous 3'ears, likewise resigned the mayoralty. 
 The voices of the electors were divided between Lafayette and Petion ; 
 but the court, wliicli would not at any rate have liafayettc, who was never- 
 theless favourably disposed towards it, preferred Petion, though a repub- 
 lican. It hoped more from his coldness, which it mistook for stupidity, but 
 which was quite the reverse, and it incurred considcral)le expense in order 
 to secure liim a mnjority. He was accordingly appointed mayor. Petion, 
 with an enlightened understanding, a cold but setded conviction, and con- 
 siderable address, constantly served tlie repuldicans against the court, and 
 found himself allied to the Gironde by conformity of views, and by the 
 envy which his new dignity excited among the Jacobins. 
 
 It, however, notwithstanding these dispositions of the parties, tlie King 
 could have been relied upon, it is possible that the distrust of the Girondins 
 might have worn off, and that, the pretext for disturbances no longer exist- 
 ing, the agitators M-ould thenceforward have found no pretext for urging the 
 populace to commotion. 
 
 The intentions of the Kmg were formed ; but he Avas so weak that they 
 were never irrevocable. It was requisite that he should prove them before 
 they could gain belief; and till he could afford proof, he Avas liable to more 
 than one outrage. His disposition, though good, Avas not without a certain 
 tendency to ill-humour. His resolutions were in consequence easily sliaken 
 by the first faults of the Assembly. This Assembly having been consti- 
 tuted, took the oath with pomp on the book of the constitution. Its first 
 decree rcladve to the ceremonial, abolished the tides of sire and majesty^ 
 usually given to the King. It ordered moreover that, whenever he ap- 
 peared in the Assembly, he should sit in an arm-chair exacdy similar to 
 that of the president. 
 
 Such were the first results of the republican spirit, and the pride of Loujs 
 XVI. was cruelly wounded by them. To spare himself what he regardeo 
 
 VOL. I.— -2G 
 
202 HISTC RY OF THE 
 
 as an humiliation, he resolved not to attend the Assembly, but to send his 
 ministers to open the legislative session. The Assembly, repenting this 
 first hostility, revoked its decree on the following day, and thus gave a rare 
 example of recantation. The King then went and was warmly received 
 Unluckily, it had been decreed that, if the King continued sitting, the mem- 
 bers should likewise keep their seats. They did so, and Louis XVI. con- 
 sidered tliis as a fresh insult. The applause with which he was greeted 
 could not heal the wound. He returned home pale and with agitated looks. 
 No sooner was he alone with the Queen than he threw himself into a chair, 
 sobbing. "Ah! madam," he exclaimed, "you witnessed this humiliation! 
 What! come to France to see . . . ." — The Queen strove to comfort him ; 
 but his heart was too deeply lacerated, and his good intentions must have 
 been sliaken by this treatment.-^ 
 
 If, however, he henceforth thought only of having recourse to foreigners, 
 the dispositions of the powers were not such as to give him much hope. 
 The declaration of Pilnitz had remained inoperative, either from want of 
 zeal on the part of the sovereigns, or perhaps on account of the danger 
 which Louis XVI. would have incurred, having been ever since his return 
 from Varennes the prisoner of the Constituent Assembly. The acceptance 
 of the constitution was an additional motive for the sovereigns to await the 
 results of experience before they proceeded to action. This was the opinion 
 of Leopold and of Kaunitz the minister. Accordingly, when Louis XVI. 
 had notified to all the courts that he had accepted the constitution, and thai 
 it was his intention to observe it faithfully, Austria returned a most pacific 
 answer. Prussia and England did the same, and protested their amicable 
 intentions. It is to be observed that the neighbouring powers acted with 
 more reserve than the remote powers, such as Sweden and Russia, because 
 they were more immediately compromised by a war. Gustavus, who 
 dreamt of some brilliant expedition against France, replied to the notification 
 that he did not consider the King as free. Russia deferred the explanation 
 of her sentiments. Holland, the Italian principalities, and Switzerland in 
 particular, gave satisfactory answers. The electors of Treves and Mentz, 
 in whose territories the emigrants resided, used evasive expressions. Spain 
 also, importuned by the emigrants of Coblentz, abstained from speaking out; 
 alleging that she wished for time to insure the liberty of the King. She 
 nevertheless declared that she had no intention of disturbing the tranquillity 
 of the kingdom. 
 
 Such answers, not one of which was hostile, the assured neutraUty of 
 England, the hesitation of Frederick William, the pacific and well known 
 disposition of Leopold, all seemed to promise peace. It is impossible to 
 tell what passed in the vacillating mind of Louis XVI. ; but his evident in- 
 terest, and the very fears with which the war subsequently filled him, must 
 induce a belief that he too was desirous of the maintenance of peace. Amidst 
 this general concert, the emigrants alone continued to be obstinately bent on 
 war, and to prepare for it. 
 
 They still kept thronging to Coblentz ; where, with great activity, they 
 armed themselves, prepared magazines, contracted for accoutrements, and 
 formed skeletons of regiments, which however were not filled up, for none 
 of them would become soldiers. Moreover, they instituted ranks which 
 were sold ; and, if they attempted nothing really dangerous, they neverthe* 
 less made great preparations, which they themselves .deemed forinidablej 
 
 ^ See Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 129. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 203 
 
 and by wliich they expected to strike terror into the imagination of thj 
 French people.* 
 
 The grand point was to ascertain whether Louis XVI. were favourable to 
 ihem or not ; and it was dilBcult to suppose that he could be otherwise than 
 well-disposed towards kinsmen and servants who were takingr up arms to 
 restore to liim his former powers. It would have required nothing less than 
 the utmost sincerity and continual demonstrations to produce a contrary con- 
 viction. The letters of the King to the emigrants contained invitations, nay, 
 even orders, to return ; but he kept up, it was said,t a secret correspondence, 
 which contradicted his public correspondence, and destroyed its effect. 
 That secret communications took place with Coblentz cannot indeed be 
 denied, but I cannot believe that Louis XVI. made use of them to contradict 
 the injunctions whicli he had publicly addressed to the emigrants. His 
 most evident interest was that they should return. Their pretence at Co- 
 blentz could not be serviceable so loiior as they entertained the desio-n of 
 fi^rhtinflr : and Louis XVI. dreaded civil war above all things. 
 
 Not desiring then that the emigrants should employ their swords on the 
 Rhine, it w^as better that he should have tliem about liim, that he miglit em- 
 ploy them as occasion required, and combine their efforts with those of the 
 constitutionalists for the protection of his person and his throne. IMoreover, 
 their presence at Coblentz provoked severe laws, which he would not sanc- 
 tion — a refusal Avhich compromised liim with the Assembly; and we sliall 
 see that it Vvas tlie use wliich he now made of the velo that completely strip- 
 ped him of popularity, and caused him to be considered as an accomplice of 
 the emigrants. It would l)e strange if he had not perceived tne cogency of 
 these reasons, whicli was felt by all his ministers, who were unanimously 
 of opinion that the emigrants ought to return and to keep near the person of 
 the King, in order to defend him, to put an end to alarms, and to deprive 
 agitators of every pretext. This was the opinion of Bertrand de IMolleville 
 
 " The cnnliiiued and increasing emigration of ihc landholders contributed in the greatest 
 degree to unhinge the public mind, and proved, perhaps, in the end, the greatest cause of the 
 Bubsequent miseries of the Kevolution. Their number nas by this time, with their fumiHes, 
 nearly one hundred thousand of the most wealthy and influential body in France. Coblentz 
 became the centre of this anti-revolutiorir.ry parly. In thus deserting their country at the 
 most critical period of its history, the French nobility betrayed equal baseness and impru- 
 dence." — Alison. E. » 
 
 ■\ It is Madame Campan, who takes it upon her to inform us that the King kept up a 
 secret correspondence with Coblentz. 
 
 " While the courtiers were conveying the confidential letters of the King to the princes, hig 
 brothers, and to the foreign princes, the Assembly requested the King to write to the princes 
 and to exhort them to return to France. The King directed the Abbe do Montesquieu to 
 draw up for him the letter which he purposed sending. This letter, admirably written, in a 
 touching and simple style, suitable to the character of Louis XVI., and full of very strong 
 arguments on the advantage of rallying around the principles of the constitution, was put 
 into my hands by the King for the purpose of making a copy of it. 
 
 " At this period, M. Mor .... one of the intendants of Monsieur's household, obtained 
 from the Assembly a passport to go to the prince, on account of some work that was abso- 
 lutely necessary to be done to his house. The Queen selected him to carry this letter; she 
 determined to deliver it to him herself, and acquainted him with her motive for doing so. 
 The choice of this courier surprised me: the Queen assured me that there could not be a 
 fitter, that she even reckoned upon his indiscretion, and that it was mereiy essential that ihu 
 public should know of the King's letter to his brothers. The princes were no doubt fort' 
 warned by the private correspondence. Monsieur, nevertheless, showed some surprise, and 
 the messenger returned more afflicted than pleased by such a mark of confidence, which had 
 Well-nigh cost him his life during the years of terror." — Memoires de Madame Camparu 
 tome ii., pw 172. 
 
204 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 jiimself, whose principles were anything but constitutional. " It was neces- 
 /?ary," says he, "to use all possible means to increase the popularity of tha- 
 King. The most efficacious and the most useful of all, at this moment, was 
 to recall the emigrants. Their return, generally desired, would have revived 
 in France the royalist party, which the emigration had completely disor- 
 ganized. This party, strengthened by the unpopularity of the Assembly, 
 and recruited by numerous deserters from the constitutional party, and by 
 all the discontented, would soon have become powerful enough to render 
 decisive in favour of the King the explosion, more or less speedy, which 
 there was every reason to expect."*^ 
 
 Louis XVI., conformably with this advice of his ministers, addressed ex- 
 hortations to the principal officers of the army and navy, to recall them to 
 their duty, and to keep them at their posts. His exhortations, however, 
 were useless, and the desertion continued without intermission. I'he minis- 
 ter at war. reported that nineteen hundred officers had deserted. The As- 
 sembly could not moderate its wrath, and resolved to take vigorous measures. 
 The Constituent Assembly had gone no further than to decree that public 
 functionaries who were out of the kingdom sbould be superseded, and thai 
 the property of emigrants should be burdened with a triple contribution, t^ 
 indemnify the state for the services of which thev deprived it by thei' 
 absence. The new Assembly proposed more severe penalties. 
 
 Several plans were presented. Brissot distinguished three classes of 
 emigrants: the leaders of the desertion, the public functionaries who aban 
 doned their duties, and lastly, those who out of fear had fled from theiy 
 country. They ought, he said, to deal severely with the former, to despis* 
 and pity the others. 
 
 It is certain that the liberty of man does not allow him to be chained dowu 
 to the soil, but when a certainty is obtained, from a multitude of circum- 
 stances, that the citizens who forsake it are going to assemble abroad for the 
 purpose of declaring war against it, then, indeed, it is justifiable to take pre- 
 cautions against such dangerous projects. 
 
 The debate was long and warm. The constitutionalists condemned al^ 
 the measures proposed, and asserted that they ought to despise useless 
 attempts, as their predecessors had invariably done. The opposite party 
 however, carried their point; and a first*decree was passed, enjoining Mon- 
 sieur, the King's brother, to return within two months, in default of which 
 he should lose his eventual right to the regency. A second and more severe 
 decree was levelled against the emigrants in general : it declared that the 
 French assembled beyond the frontiers of the kingdom were suspected of 
 conspiring against France; that, if on the 1st of January next they still con- 
 tinued assembled, they should be declared guilty of conspiracy, prosecuted 
 as such, and punished with death ; and that the revenues of those who 
 refused to comply should be levied during their lives for the benefit of 
 the nation, without prejudice to the rights of wives, children and lawful 
 creditors. 
 
 Tlie act of emigration not being in itself reprehensible, it is difficult to 
 characterize the case in which it becomes so. All that the law could do 
 was to apprize people that they would become culpable in such and such 
 cases ; and all who wished not to be so, had only to obey. Those who, 
 when apprized of the term beyond which absence from the kingdom became 
 a crime, should not return, would consent by this very circumstance to pas* 
 
 • Tome vi., p. 43. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 205 
 
 for criminals. It was incumbent on those who, without any hostile or 
 political motive, were out of the kingdom, to hasten their return : in fact it 
 is a very trifling sacrifice to the safety of a state to abridge a journey of 
 pleasure or profit. 
 
 Louis XVI., in order to satisfy the Assembly and public opinion, assented 
 to the decree requiring Monsieur to return upon pain of losing his right to 
 the regency; but he affixed his veto to the law against the emigrants. Tlie 
 ministers were directed to go in a body to the Assembly, for the purpose of 
 communicating the pleasure of the King. They first read several decrees 
 to which the sanction was given. When they came to that relative to tlie 
 emigrants, profound silence pervaded the Assembly ; and when the keeper 
 of the seals pronounced the ofBcial formula, The King ivill examine ity 
 great discontent was expressed on all sides. He would have entered into a 
 developoment of the forms of the vclo, but a great number of voices wero 
 raised, and told the minister that the constitution granted to the King the 
 right of opposing, but not that of assigning motives for opposition. The 
 minister was therefore obliged to withdraw, leaving behind him a deep irrita- 
 tion. Tliis first resistance of the King to the Assembly was a definitive 
 rupture ; and though he had sanctioned tiie decree which deprived his brother 
 of the regency, yet people could not help discovering in his rejection of the 
 second decree an affection for the insurgents atCoblentz. They considered 
 that he was their kinsman, tlieir friend, and in some degree their co-partner; 
 and tlicnce concluded that it was impossible for him not to make common 
 cause with them against tlie nation. 
 
 Tlie very next day, Louis XVI. publislicd a proclamation to the emigrants, 
 and two separate letters to his two brothers. The reasons which he stated 
 to both were excellent, and appeared to be sincerely urged. He exhorted 
 tliem to put an end by their return to the distrust whicli evil disposed 
 persons took deliglit in spreading. He besought them not to compel him to 
 employ severe measures against them; and, as to his want of liberty, which 
 was made a pretext for not obeying him, he adduced as an evidence of the 
 contrary the veto which he had just affixed in their favour. • Be this as it 
 
 " Litlter from the King to Louis Stanislas Xavier, French Prince, the King's Brother. 
 
 Paris, November 11, 1791. 
 I wrote to you, my brother, on the ICth of Oc'.ober last, and you ought not to have had 
 any doubt of my real sentiments. I am surprised that my letter has not produced the efTict 
 which I had a right to exJ^ect from it. In order to recall you to your duty, I have used all 
 the arguments that ought to touch you mosL Your absence is a pretext for all the evil dis- 
 poned, a sort of excuse for all the deluded French, who imagine that ihey are serving me hj 
 keeping all France in an alarm and an agitation which are the torment of my life. The 
 Revolution is finished; tho constitution is completed; France wills it, I will maintain it; 
 Dpon its consolidation now depends the welfare of the monarchy. The constitution has con- 
 ferred rights upon you; it has attached to them one condition which you ought to lose no 
 time in fulfilling. Believe me, brother, and repel the doubts which pains are taken to excite 
 in you respecting my liberty. I am going to prove to you by a most solemn act, and in a 
 circumstance which interests you, that I can act freely. Prove lo me that you are my brothci 
 und i\ Frenchman, by complying with my entreaties. Your proper place is by my side; 
 your interest, your sentiments alike urge you lo come and resume it; I invite you, and, if I 
 may, I order you, to do oo. (Signed") Louis. 
 
 Answer of Monsieur to the King. 
 
 Coblentz, December 3, 1791 
 Sire, my brother and lord, 
 The Count de Vergennes has delivered to me in the name of your majesty, a letter, the 
 address of tvhich, notwithstanding my baptismal names which it contains, is so unlike niiM 
 
206 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 might, those reasons produced neither at Coblentz nor at Paris the efl^cl 
 which they were, or appeared to be, intended to produce. The emi^ants 
 did not return; and in the Assembly the tone of the proclamation was 
 deemed too mild; nay, the power of the executive to issue one was called in 
 question. That body was in fact too much irritated to be content with a 
 proclamation, and above all to suffer the King to substitute a useless measure 
 ibr the vigorous resolutions which had just been adopted. 
 
 A similar trial was at the same moment imposed upon the King, and pro- 
 duced an equally unfortunate result. The first religious disturbances had 
 broken out in the West ; the Constituent Assembly had sent thither two 
 commissioners, one of whom was Gensonne, afterwards so celebrated in 
 the party of the Gironde. Their report had been made to the Legislative 
 Assembly, and, though very moderate, this report had filled it with indigna- 
 tion. It will be recollected that the Constituent Assembly, in depriving the 
 
 that I had some thoughts of returning it unopened. However, upon his positive assertioa 
 that it was for me, I opened it, and the name of brother which I found in it having left me 
 no further doubt, I read it with the respect which I owe to the handwriting and the signature 
 of your majesty. The order which it contains to return and resume my place by your 
 majesty's person is not the free expression of your will ; and my honour, my duty, nay, even 
 my affection, alike forbid me to obey. If your majesty wishes to be acquainted with all these 
 motives more in detail, I beg you to refer to my letter of the 10th of September last. I also 
 entreat yoa to receive with kindness the homage of the sentiments equally tender and respectful, 
 with which I am, &c., &c., &c- 
 
 Letter from the King to Charles Philippe, French Prince, the King's Brother. 
 
 Paris, November II, 1791. 
 You must certainly be aware of the decree which the National Assembly has passed relative 
 to the French who have left their country. I have not thought it right to give my consent 
 to if, fondly believing that mild means will more eflfectually accomplish the end which is 
 proposed, and which the interest of the state demands. The various communications which 
 I have made to you cannot leave you in any doubt respecting my intentions or my wishes. 
 The public tranquillity and my personal peace are interested in your return. You could not 
 persist in a conduct which disturbs France and which grieves me, without disregarding your 
 most essential duties. Spare me the regret of recurring to severe measures against you ; 
 consult your true interest; suffer yourself to be guided by the attachment which you owo to 
 your country, and yield, in short, to the wish of the French, and to that of your King. This 
 etep, on your part, will be a proof of your sentiments for me, and will insure to you the cco- 
 tinuance of those which I always entertained for you. (Signed) Louis. 
 
 Answer of the Count d'Artois to the King. 
 
 Coblentz, December 3, 1791. 
 
 Sire, my brother and lord, 
 
 Count De Vergennes delivered tome yesterday a letter, which, he assured me, had been 
 addressed to me by your majesty. The superscription which gives me a title that I cannot 
 admit, led me to suppose that this letter was not destined for me ; however, having recognised 
 the seal of your majesty, I opened it, and paid respect to the handwriting and the signature 
 of my King; but the total omission of the name of brother, and, above all, the decisions 
 referred to in this letter, have furnished me with a fresh proof of the moral and physical cap- 
 tivity in which our enemies dare to hold your majesty. After this declaration, your majesty 
 will think it natural that, faithful to my duty, and the laws of honour, I should not obey 
 srdcrs evidently wrung from you by violence. 
 
 Besides, the letter which I had the honour to write to your majesty, conjointly with Mon- 
 sieur, on the 10th of September last, contains the sentiments, the principles, and the resolu- 
 tions, from which I shall never swerve; I refer to it, therefore, absolutely ; it shall be 
 the basis of my conduct, and I here renew my oath to that effect. I entreat your majesty 
 lo receive the homage of the sentiments equally tender and respectful, with which I 
 am, &c., &.C. <Scc. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 207 
 
 nonjiiring priests of iheir functions, had nevertheless left thorn a pension, 
 and liberty to perform religious service apart. They had ever since en- 
 deavoured to excite the people against their colleagues who had taken the 
 oath, and inveiglied against them as impious wretches, whose ministry was 
 null and dangerous. They drew the peasants after them to great distances 
 for tlie purpose of saying mass to them. The latter were irritated to see 
 their churches occupied by a worship which they were tauglit to consider 
 as bad, and to be obliged to go so far in quest of that which they looked 
 upon as good. Civil war was imminent. ■ Fresh information communi- 
 
 • The Report of Messrs. Gallois and Gcnsonnu is indispulably ihe best historical authority 
 concerning the commencement of the disturbances in La Vendee. The origin of those dis- 
 turbances is the most interesting part of it, because it makes us acquainted with their causes. 
 I have thought it necessary, therefore, to subjoin this Report. It seems to me to throw hght 
 Dn one of the most curious portions of that melancholy history. 
 
 Report (if Messrs. Gallois and Gensonne, Civil Commissioners sent into the Departments 
 of La Vcndte and Deux-Scvrcs, bi/ virtue <f Decrees of the Constituent Assembly, 
 Titudc to Ihe Legislative Assemhhj, October 9, 1791. 
 
 Gentlemen, the National Assembly decreed, on the I6th of July last, on the report of its 
 committee of research, that civil commissioners should be sent to the department of La 
 Vendee, to collect all the information they could oljtain respecting the causes of the recent 
 disturbances in that country, and to concur with the administrative bodies in the restoration 
 of the public tranquillity. 
 
 On the 23d of July we were charged with this mission, and we set out two days after- 
 wards for Foiitenay-le-Comte, the chief town of that department. 
 
 After conferring fur some days with the administrators of the directory upon the state of 
 tilings and the disposition of people's minds ; after concerting with the three administrative 
 bodies some ])reliminary measures for the maintenance of public order; we determined to 
 visit the difVerent districts composing this department, in order to examine how much was 
 true or false, real or exaggerated, in the com[)laints which had already reached us — to ascer- 
 tain, in short, with all possible accuracy, the state of this department. 
 
 Wc have travelled over almost every part of it, sometimes for the purpose of obtaining 
 information that wc needed, at others, to maintain peace, to obviate public disturliances, oi 
 to prevent the violence with which some of the citizens believed themselves to be threatened. 
 
 Wc have examined in several district directories all the municipalities of which each of 
 them is composed; wc have listened with the greatest attention to all the citizens who had 
 either facts to communicate or suggestions to propose to us; we have carefully collected and 
 compared together all the particulars that have come to our knowledge; but, as these details 
 are more numerous than diversified, as the facts, complaints, and observations have been 
 everywhere alike, wc shall present to you in one general point of view, and in an abridged 
 but accurate manner, the result of this multitude of particular facts. 
 
 We deem it unnecessary to submit to you the information which we obtained concerning 
 anterior disturbances ; they have not appeared to us to have any very direct influence on the 
 present state of this department ; besides, the law of amnesty having put a stop to the dif- 
 ferent prosecutions to which those disturbances gave occasion, we could present to you only 
 vague conjectures and uncertain results concerning those matters. 
 
 The epoch of the taking of the ecclesiastical oath was the first epoch of the disturbances 
 In the department of La Vendee; till then the people there had enjoyed the greatest tran- 
 quillity. Remote from the common centre of all action and all resistance, disposed by their 
 natural character to the love of peace, to the sentiment of order, to respect for the law they 
 reaped the benefits of the Revolution without experiencing its storms. 
 
 In the country, the difficulty of the communications, the simplicity of a purely agncul 
 tural life, the lessons of childhood and of the religious emblems destined incessantly to 
 engage our attention, had opened the soul to a multitude of superstitious impressions, which, 
 in the present state of things, no kind of instruction can either destroy or moderate. 
 
 Their religitm, that is to say, religion such as they conceive it, is become to them thi 
 strongest, and indeed we may say, the only moral habit of their lives; the most essentia 
 object which it holds forth to them is the worship of images ; and the minister of this wor« 
 ship, ho whom the country-people consider as the dispenser of the Divine favour, who can, 
 by the fervour of his prayers, mitigate the inclemency of the seasons, and has at hi* 
 
208 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 cated to the Assembly proved that the danger had become still greater. It 
 then determined to adopt measures against these new enemies of the con- 
 peculiar disposal the happiness of a future life, soon secures to himself the softest as well ag 
 the strongest airections of their souls. 
 
 The constancy of the people of this department in the kind of their religious acts, and 
 Ihe unlimited confidence possessed by the priests to whom they are accustomed, are one 
 of the principal elements of the disturbances which have agitated and are still likely to 
 agitate them. 
 
 It is easy to conceive with what assiduity either misguided or factious priests have con- 
 trived to avail themselves of these dispositions of the people towards them. Nothing has 
 been neglected to kindle their zeal, to alarm their consciences, to strengthen weak characters, 
 to encourage decided characters : in some have been awakened uneasiness and remorse, in 
 others hopes of happiness and salvation : and upon almost all the influence of seduction and 
 fear has been tried with success. 
 
 Many of these ecclesiastics are upright and sincere; they appear to be deeply impressed 
 both with the ideas which they disseminate and with the sentiments which they inspire: 
 others are accused of cloaking with zeal for religion interests dearer to their hearts; these 
 latter have a political activity, which increases or relaxes according to circumstances. 
 
 A powerful coalition has been formed between the late Bishop of Lugon, and part of the 
 former clergy of his diocese: they have concerted a plan of opposition to the execution of 
 the decrees which were to be carried into effect in all the parishes ; pastoral charges and in- 
 flammatory papers sent from Paris have been addressed to all the cures, to fortify them in 
 their resolution, or to engage them in a confederation which is presumed to be general. A 
 circular letter written by M. Beauregard, grand-vicar of M. de Merci, late Bishop of Lupon, 
 deposited in the office of the tribunal of Fontenay, and which that ecclesiastic avowed at 
 the time of his examination, will fix your opinion, gentlemen, in an accurate manner, both 
 respecting the secret of that coalition, and the skilfully combined proceedings of those who 
 have formed it. 
 
 It is as follows: 
 
 Letter, dated Ijugon, May 31, 1791, under envelope, addressed to the Cure of La Reorihe. 
 
 A decree of the National Assembly, sir, dated 7th May, grants to the ecclesiastics whom 
 it has pretended to remove for refusing to take the oath, the use of the parish churches for 
 saying mass there only. The same decree authorizes the Roman Catholics as well as all 
 the nonconformists, to meet for the exercise of religious worship in any place which they 
 shall have chosen for that purpose, on condition that in their public instructions nothing 
 shall be said against the civil constitution of the clergy. 
 
 The liberty granted to the legitimate pastors by the first article of this decree ought to be 
 considered as a snare so much the more dangerous, because true believers would not find in 
 the churches of which the intruders have gained possession any other instructions but those 
 of their false pastors ; because they could not receive the sacraments there but from their 
 hands; and thus they would have with these schismatic pastors a communication which the 
 laws of the church interdict. To obviate so great an evil, gentlemen, the cures will feel 
 the necessity of securing as soon as possible a place where they can, by virtue of the second 
 article of this decree, exercise their functions and assemble their faithful parishioners, as 
 soon as their pretended successors have taken possession of their churches. Without this 
 precaution, the Catholics, fearful of being deprived of the mass and the divine offices, and 
 called by the voice of false pastors, might soon be induced to communicate with them, and 
 be exposed to the risk of an almost inevitable seduction. 
 
 In the parishes where there are few wealthy proprietors, it will no doubt be difficult to 
 hnd a suitable building and to procure sacred vessels and ornaments : then a mere barn, a 
 moveable altar, a surplice of muslin or any other common stuff", and vessels of tin, will 
 suffice, in this case of necessity, for the celebration of the sacred mysteries and of divine 
 service. 
 
 This simplicity, this poverty, by reminding us of the first ages of the Church and of tfte 
 cradle of our holy religion, may be a powerful means of exciting the zeal of the ministers 
 and the fervour of the faithful. The first Christians had no other temples but their houses; 
 there the pastors and their flock met to celebrate the sacred mysteries, to hear the word of 
 (iod, and to sing the praises of the Lord. In the persecutions with which the Church was 
 afflicted, obliged to forsake their churches, they retired into caverns and even into tombs; 
 and for the true believers these times of trial were periods of the greatest fervour. There 
 ore very few parishes where messieurs the cures could not procure a building anrl ornamenU 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 209 
 
 Ktitution, similar to those which it liad talien against the armed enemies 
 beyond the Rhine, and to put the disposition of the King to a new test. 
 
 such as I have just mentioned, and till they can provide themselves with needful things, such 
 of their neighbours as shall not be displaced will be able to assist them with what they can 
 epare from their churches. We shall have it in our power immediately to supply with 
 sacred stones those who want them, and at this moment we can cause the cups, or the 
 vessels employed as substitutes for them, to be consecrated, 
 
 M. the Bishop of Lufon, in llxe particular instructions which he has transmitted to us, by 
 way of supplement to those of M. the Bishop of Langres, and which will be circulated in 
 like manner in the different dioceses, proposes to messieurs the cures ; 
 
 1. To keep a double register, in which shall be entered the acts of baptism, marriage, and 
 burial of the Catholics of the parish: one of these registers shall remain in their hands; 
 the other shall be by them deposited every year in the hands of a confidential prrson. 
 
 2. Besides this register, messieurs the cures will keep another, likewise double, in which 
 shall be entered the acts of dispensation concerning marriages, which they shall have granted 
 by virtue of the powers which shall be given them by Article 18th of the Instructions. 
 These acts shall be signed by two trusty and faithful witnesses, and, to give them greater 
 authenticity, the registers destined to contain them shall be approved, numbered, and signed 
 by M. the Bishop, or in his absence by one of his vicais-general. A duplicate of this register 
 Bhall be delivered, as above mentioned, to a confidential person. 
 
 3. Messieurs (he cures will wait, if possible, before thoy retire from their church and their 
 ministry, till their pretended successor has notified to them the act of his appointment and 
 institution, and till they protest against all that may be done in consequence. 
 
 4. They shall draw up privately a report (proccs verbal) of the intrusion of the pre- 
 tended ctcrc. and of the invasion made by him upon the parish church and the living; in this 
 report, the model of which I annex, they will formally protest against all the acts of jurisdic- 
 tion which he may choose to exercise as cure of the ))arish : and to give to this act all pos- 
 sible authenticity, it shall be signed by the cure, his vicar, if he has one, and a neighbouring 
 priest, and even by two or three pious and discieet layman, taking nevertheless the utmost 
 precaution not to lielray the secret. 
 
 5. Such of messieurs the cures whose parishes shall be declared suppressed without the 
 intervention of the legitimate bishop, shall adopt the same means ; they shall consider them- 
 selves as being still the only legitimate pastors of their parishes, and, if it be alisolutely im- 
 possible for them to remain there, they shall endeavour to procure a lodging suffiiienlly near 
 to be able to supply the spiritual wants of their parishioners, and they shall take great care 
 to forewarn and to instruct them in their duties on that head. 
 
 6. If the civil power should o{)pose the faithful Catholics having one general cemetery, 
 or if the relatives of deceased persons manifest too strong a repugnance to their being inter- 
 red in a separate ftlace, though specially consecrated, as it is said in Article 19 of the Instruc- 
 tions, after the legitimate pastor or one of his representatives shall have said at the house 
 the prayers prescribed by the ritual, and shall have drawn up the certificate of death, which 
 shall be signed by the relatives, the body of the deceased may be carried to the door of the 
 church, and the relations shall be at liberty to accompany it; but they shall be warned to 
 retire at the moment when the intruding cure and vicars come to have the body 'ifted up, 
 that they may not participate in the ceremonies and prayers of these schismatic priests. 
 
 7. In the acts, when the displaced cwrti- are denied their title of cure, they shall sign those 
 acts with their christian and family name, without losing any quality. 
 
 I beg you, sir, and such of your colleagues to whom you may think it right to communi- 
 cate my letter, to have the goodness to inform us of the moment of your removal, if it does 
 take place, of the installation of your pretended successor, and of its most remarkable circum- 
 stances, of the dispositions of your parishioners on this head, of the means which you 
 think it right to adopt for the service of your parish, and of your residence, if you are abso- 
 lutely obliged to leave it. You cannot doubt that all these particulars will deeply interest us; 
 ?our griefs are ours, and our most ardent wish is to be able, by sharing them, to mitigate 
 dieir bitterness. 
 
 I have the honour to be, with a respectful and inviolable attachment, your most humbU 
 and most obedient servant. 
 
 These manoeuvres were powerfully seconded by missionaries established in the village ol 
 St. Laurent, district of Montaigu ; nay, it is to the activity of their zeal, to their underhand 
 dealings, to their indefatigable and secret exhortations that, we are of opinion, the disposition 
 
 VOL. I. — 27 
 
210 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 The Constituent Assembly had required all priests to take the civic oath 
 Those who refused to comply, though they lost the character of ministers 
 
 of a very great part of the population in almost the whole of the department of La Vendeo 
 and in the district of Chatillon, department of the Deux-Sevres, is principally to be attri- 
 buted. It is of essential importance to fix the att^tion of the National Assembly on the 
 conduct of these missionaries and the spirit of their institution. 
 
 This establishment was founded, about sixty years ago, for a society of secular priests, 
 living by alms, and destined as missionaries to the duty of preaching. These missionaries, 
 who have won the confidence of the people by artfully distributing rosaries, medals, and 
 indulgences, and by setting up Calvaries of all forms upon the roads of all this part of 
 France ; these missionaries have since become numerous enough to form new eslablishmenta 
 in other parts of the kingdom. They are to be found in the late provinces of Poitou, Anjou, 
 Bretagne, and Aunis, labouring with the same activity for the success, and in some measure 
 for the eternal duration, of this sort of religious practices, which have become, through their 
 assiduous endeavours, the sole religion of the people. The village of St. Laurent is their 
 head-quarters ; they have recently built there a spacious and handsome monastic house, and 
 acquired, it is said, other territorial property. 
 
 This congregation is connected by the nature and spirit of its institution with an psta» 
 blishment of gray nuns, founded in the same place, and known by the name of Jilies de la 
 sogesse (nuns of wisdom). Devoted in this department and in several others to attendance 
 on the poor, particularly in the hospitals, they are a very active medium of general corres- 
 pondence for these missionaries throughout the kingdom. The house of St. Laurent has 
 become their place of refuge, when the intolerant fervour of their zeal or other circum- 
 stances have obliged the managers of the hospitals which they attend to dispense with their 
 services. 
 
 To determine your opinion respecting the conduct of these ardent missionaries and the 
 religious morality which they profess, it will be sufficient, gentlemen, to lay before you a 
 brief summary of the maxims contained in various manuscripts found upon them by the 
 national guard of Angers and Cholet. 
 
 These manuscripts, drawn up in the form of instructions for the country-people, lay it 
 down as a rule that they must not apply to the constitutional priests, stigmatized as intruders, 
 for the administration of the sacraments; that all those who partake therein, even by their 
 mere presence, commit a deadly sin, for which nothing but ignorance or defect of understand- 
 ing can be an excuse ; that those who shall have the audacity to get married by intruders 
 will not be really married, and that they will draw down the divine malediction upon them- 
 selves and their children ; that things will be so arranged that the validity of the marriages 
 performed by the late ciwes will not be disputed ; but that, meanwhile, they must make up 
 their minds to the worst ; that if the children do not pass for legitimate, they will neverthe- 
 less be so ; that, on the contrary, the children of those who shall have been married by the 
 intruders will be really bastards, because God will not have ratified the union, and because 
 it is better that a marriage should be invalid in the sight of men than in the sight of God ; 
 that they ought not to apply to the new cures in cases of burial ; and that, if the former 
 cure cannot officiate without risking his life and liberty, the relatives or friends of the de- 
 ceased ought privately to perform the duty of interment. 
 
 On this subject it is observed that the late cure will take care to keep an accurate register 
 for the registration of these diflferent acts; that, in fact, it is impossible for the civil tribunal 
 to pay any attention to this point, but that it is a misfortune to which people must submit; 
 that the civil registration is a great advantage, which must nevertheless be dispensed with, 
 because it is better to be deprived of it than to turn apostate by applying to an intruder. 
 
 Lastly, all true believers are exhorted to have no communication with an intruder, and ta 
 take no part in his intrusion ; it is declared that the municipal officers who shall install hlna 
 will be apostates like himself, and that the very sextons, singers, and bell-ringers, ought that 
 very moment to resign their places. 
 
 Such, gentlemen, is the absurd and pernicious doctrine which is contained in those raana- 
 scripts, and of which the public voice accuses the missionaries of St. Laurent of having been 
 the most zealous propagators. 
 
 They were denounced at the time to the committee of research of the National Assembly, 
 and the silence observed in regard to them, h?s served only to increase the activity of their 
 ertbrts and to extend their baneful influence. 
 
 We have deemed it indispensably necessary to lay before you an abridged analysis of the 
 principles contained in these writings, as displayed in an arrele of the department of Maine 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 211 
 
 of public worship paid by the state, retained their pensions as mere eccle- 
 siastjcs and the liberty of exercising their ministry in private. Nothing 
 
 and Loire, of Ihe 5lh June, 1791, because it is sufTicient to compare them with the circular 
 letter of the grand-vicar of the late Bishop of Lufon to be convinced that they belong to a 
 general system of opposition to the decrees on the civil organization of the clergy ; and the pre- 
 f€nt state of the majority of the parishes of this department exhibits only the development 
 of this system and the principles of this doctrine, set almost everywhere in action. 
 
 The too tardy removal of the cures has greatly contributeJ to the success of this coalition; 
 this deliy has been occasioned, in the first place, by the refusal of M. Servant, who after 
 having been appointed to the bishopric of the department, and accepted that oflice, declared, 
 an the lOth of April, that he withdrew his acceptance. M. RoJrigue, the present bishop of 
 the department, whose moderation and firmness are almost his sole support in a chair sur- 
 rounded by storms and embarrassments — M. Kodrigue could not be nominated till tho 
 first days in the month of May, At that time the acts of resistance had been calculated and 
 determined upon agreeably to a uniform plan ; the opposition was commenced and in full 
 activity; the grand-vicars and the cure'.? had agreed and bound themselves closely together 
 by the same bond; the jealousies, the rivalships, the quarrels, of the old ecclesiastical 
 hierarchy had had time to subside, and all interests had been blended into one general 
 interest. 
 
 The removal could only be in part effected : the very great majority of the old public 
 ecclesiastical functionaries still remains in the parishes invested with its former functions; 
 the last appointments have been almost wholly unsuccessful ; and the persons lately elected, 
 deterred by the prospect of the numberless contradictions and disagreements prepared for 
 them by their nomination, reply to it by refusals alorje. 
 
 This division of sworn and nonjuring priests has formed an absolute division between the 
 people of their parishes; families too are divided : wives have heen seen, and are daily 
 seen, parting from their husbands, children leaving iheir parents: the state of citizens is in 
 most cases certified only upon loose pieces of paper, and the individual who receives them, 
 not being clothed with any public character, cannot give any legal authenticity to this kind 
 of proof. 
 
 The municipalities have disorganized themselves, and the greater number of them that 
 they might not concur in the removal of nonjuring cures. 
 
 A great portion of the citizens has renounced the service in the national guard, and that 
 which remains could not be employed without danger in any operations having for their 
 principle or object acts concerning religion, because the people would then view the national 
 guards not as the unimpassioned instruments of the law, but as the agents of a party hostile 
 to its own. 
 
 In several parts of the department, an administrator, a judge, a member of the electoral 
 body, are oltjects of aversion to the people, because they concur in the execution of the law 
 relative to the ecclesiastical functionaries. 
 
 This disposition of mind is the more deplorable, as the means of public instruction are 
 daily becoming more difficult. The general laws of the state are confounded by the people 
 with the particular regulations for the civil organization of the clergy, and this renders the 
 reading and the publication of them useless. 
 
 The malcontents, the men who dislike the new system, and those who in the new system 
 dislike the laws relative to the clergy, studiously keep up this aversion of the people, 
 strengthen by all the means in their power the influence of the nonjuring priests, and weaken 
 the influence of the others; the pauper obtains no relief, the artisan cannot hope to obtain 
 any employment for his talents and industry, unless he promises not to attend mass said by 
 a priest who has taken the oath ; and it is by this concurrence of confidence in the former 
 priests, on the one hand, and of threats and seductive arts on the other, that at this moment 
 the churches where priests who have taken the oath ofBciate are deserted, and that peopk 
 throng to those where, for want of candidates, the removals have not yet been canitd into 
 effect. 
 
 Nathing is more common than to see in parishes of five or six hundred persons ten o« 
 twelve only attending mass said by the sworn priest; the proportion is the same in all th» 
 places of the department. On Sundays and holidays may be seen whole villages and han> 
 lets whose inhabitants leave their homes to go to the distance of a league, and sometimes ten 
 leagues, to hear mass said by a nonjuring priest. These habitual desertions have appeared 
 to us the most powerful cause of the ferment, sometimes secret, at others open, which exist 
 in almost all the parishes served by priests who have taken the oath : it is easy to conceive 
 
212 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 could be milder or more moderate than such a restriction. The Legislative 
 Assembly required the oath to be taken anew, and deprived those who 
 
 that a multitude of persons who consider themselves obliged by their conscience to go to a 
 distance to obtain the spiritual succours which they need, must see with aversion, v/hen they 
 return home exhausted with fatigue, the five or sis individuals who find at hand the priest 
 of their choice; they view with envy and treat with harshness, nay frequently even with 
 violence, the men who seem to them to possess an exclusive privilege in matters of religion. 
 The comparison which they make between the facility which they formerly had to find by 
 their side priests who enjoyed their confidence, and the trouble, fatigue, and loss of time 
 occasioned by these repeated journeys, greatly diminishes their attachment to the constitution, 
 to which they attribute all the discomforts of their new situation. 
 
 It is to this general cause, more active perhaps at this moment than the secret provocation 
 of the nonjuring priests, that in our opinion ought to be attributed more especially the state 
 of internal discord in which we have found the greater number of the parishes of the depart- 
 ment served by priests who have taken the oath. 
 
 Several of them have presented to us, as well as to the administrative bodies, petitiona 
 praying that they may be authorized to hire particular edifices for the use of their religious 
 worship: but as these petitions, which we knew to be instigated with the greatest activity by 
 persons who did not sign them, appeared to us to belong to a more general and more secret 
 system, we have not deemed it right to take any measure tending to a religious separation, 
 which we conceived at the time, considering the state of this department, to involve all the 
 characters of a civil breach between the citizens. We have thought and publicly said that it 
 was for you, gentlemen, to determine in a precise manner how, and by what concurrence of 
 moral influences, laws, and meansof execution, the exercise of the liberty of religious opinions 
 ought on this point, and in the present circumstances, to ally itself to the maintenance of the 
 public tranquillity. 
 
 It is certainly matter of surprise that the nonjuring priests who reside in their old parishes 
 do not avail themselves of the liberty allowed by the law to say mass in the church where 
 the new cure ofliciates, and are not eager to make use of that faculty, in order to spare their 
 old parishioners, and those who have remained attached to them the loss of time and the 
 inconveniences of these numerous and compulsory journeys. To explain this conduct, appa- 
 rently so extraordinary, it is of importance to recollect that one of the things which had been 
 most strongly recommended to the nonjuring priests, by the able men who have directed this 
 grand religious enterprise, is to abstain from all communication with the priests whom they 
 call intruders and usurpers, lest the people, who are struck only by sensible signs, should at 
 length become accustomed to see no difference between the priests who should perform in the 
 same church the exercises of the same worship. 
 
 Unfortunately, this religious division has produced a political breach between the citizens, 
 and this breach is further widened by the appellation given to each of the two parties: the 
 small number of persons who go to the church of the piiesls who have taken the oath call 
 themselves and are called ^u^r/o/.5 / those who attend the church of the nonjuring priest are 
 called and call themselves aristocrats. Thus, with the poor country-people, love or hatred 
 of their country consists now-a-days not in obeying the laws, and in respecting the legitimate 
 authorities, but in going or not going to mass said by a sworn priest. On this point igno« 
 ranee and prejudice have struck such deep root, that we have had great difficulty to make 
 them comprehend that the political constitution of the state was not the civil constitution of 
 the clergy ; that the law did not tyraimize over consciences; that every one was at perfect 
 liberty to go to the mass that he liked best and to the priest in whom he had most confidence; 
 that they were all equal in the sight of the law, and that on this point it imposed on them no 
 other obligation than to live in peace, and to bear mutually with the difference of each others' 
 religious opinions. We have done all in our power to banish this absurd denomination from 
 the minds and from the language of the country-people, and we have endeavoured to do so 
 the more assiduously, because it was easy for us to calculate at that period all the conse- 
 quences of such a demarcation, in a department where these pretended aristocrats formed 
 more than two-thirds of the population. 
 
 Such, gentlemen, is the result of the facts that have come to our knowledge in the depart- 
 ment of La Vendee, and such are the reflections to which these facts have given rise. 
 
 We have taken on this subject all the measures that were in our power, both to maintain 
 the general tranquillity, and to prevent or suppress the violations of public order: organs of 
 the law, we have everywhere spoken its language. At the same time that wc established 
 
 eaas of order and security, wo took pains to explain or to elucidate, before the adrainistra 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 213 
 
 refused of any salary whatever. As they abused their hberty by exciting 
 civil war, it ordered that, according to their conduct, they should be removed 
 
 tive hnJles, the tribunals, or individuals, the difTiculties incident eilhcr to the right under- 
 etandiiiiT of the decrees or to their mode of execution ; we exhorted the administrative bodiea 
 and the trihunals to redouble their vigilance and zeal in the execution of the laws which pro- 
 tect the safety of persons and property, to use, in short, with firmness, the au;horiiy which 
 the law has conferred on them; we distributed part of the public force which was at our 
 dispos;il in places where the danger was described to us as being more serious or more immi- 
 nent : wc repaired to every place on the first tidings of disturbance ; wc ascertained the state 
 of things with more calmness and reflection ; and after having either by the langviage of peace 
 and consolation, or Iiy the firm and just expression of the law, pacified this momentary tumult 
 of individual passions, we were of opinion that the mere presence of the public force would 
 be sulUcient, It is to you, gentlemen, and to you alone, that it belongs to take truly effica- 
 cious rnrasuies respecting a matter which, from the relation into which it has been brought 
 with the constitution of the state, exercises at this moment a much greater influence upon 
 that constitution ihan the first and most simple notions of reason, apart from the experience 
 of facts, could lead one to imagine. 
 
 In all our operations relative to the distribution of the public force, wc have been seconded 
 in the most active manner by a general officer well known for his patriotism and his intelli- 
 gence. No sooner was M. Dumouriez apprized of our arrival in the department than he 
 came to associate himself willi us in our lal)ours, and to concur with us in the maintenance 
 of the [julilic peace: we were on the point of being totally deprived of troops of the line at a 
 moment when we had reason to believe that they were more necessary for us than ever; it 
 was to the zeal and to the activity of M. Dumouriez that we were indebted for immediate 
 succour, which, owing to the delay of the organization of the gendarmerie, was in some 
 measure the sole guarantee of the tranquillity of the country. 
 
 We had just finished our mission in this department of La Vendee, gentlemen, when the 
 decree of the National Assembly of the 8lh of August, which, on the application of the admi- 
 nistrators of the department of the Deux-Scvres, authorized us to proceed to the district of 
 Chatillon, reached us as well as the directory of this department. 
 
 We had been informed, on our arrival at Fontenay-le-Comte, that this district was in the 
 »amc state of religious agitation as the department of La Vendue. Some days before the 
 receipt of the decree for our commission, several citizens, electors and public functionaries of 
 that district, came to make a written complaint to the directory of the department of the 
 Dcux-Sovrcs respecting disturbances which, as they alleged, existed in dilFerent parishes; 
 they declared that an insurrection was on the point of breaking out: the remedy which to 
 them appeared the most certain and the most prompt, and which they most earnestly pro- 
 posed, was to compel all the ciiri's, who had not taken the oath and been superseded, and all 
 vicars who had not taken the oath, to quit the district within thiee days. The directory, after 
 having long hesitated to adopt a measure which appeared to it to be contrary to the principlea 
 of strict justice, conceived at length that the public character of the complainants was suffi- 
 cient to prove both the reality of the evil and the urgent necessity of the remedy. A resolu- 
 tion (arrcfc) was in consequence passed on the 5th of September, and the directory ordered 
 all ecclesiastics to quit the district in three days, but at the same time invited them to repair 
 within the same term to Niort, the chief town of the department, assuring them that they 
 should there Jind protection and safety for their persons. 
 
 The resolution was already printed and about to be carried into execution, when the direc- 
 tory received a despatch containing the decree of commission which it had solicited • it im- 
 mediately passed a fresh resolution, by which it suspended the execution of the first, a.id left 
 to our prudence the faculty of confirming, modifying, or suppressing. 
 
 Two administrators of the directory were by the same resolution appointed comraissioneia 
 to communicate to us what had passed, to repair to Chatillon, and there take in concert with 
 as all (he measures that we should deem necessary. 
 
 On our arrival at Chatillon we caused the fifty-sis municipalities of which that district i« 
 composed to be called together ; they were successively summoned into the hall of the direc- 
 tory. ' We consulted each of them on the state of its parish : all these municipalities expressed 
 tho same wish; those whose cures had been superseded solicited the restoration of those 
 priests; those whose nonju ring cure's were still in oflice desired to retain them. Therein 
 another point on which all these country-people agreed : that is the liberty of religious opi- 
 nions, which, they said, had been granted to them, and which they were anxious to enjoy 
 On the same and the following day, the neighbourhig country sent numerous deputations of 
 
214 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 from one place to another, and even sentenced to imprisonment if they 
 refused to obey. Lastly, it forbade them the free exercise of their private 
 worship, and directed the administrative bodies to transmit to it a list, with 
 notes, relative to the conduct of each of them. 
 
 its inhabitants to reiterate the same petition. " We solicit no other favor," said they unani- 
 mously, " than to have priests in whom we have confidence." Several of them attached so 
 high a value to this favour, that they even assured us that they would willingly pay double 
 their imposts to obtain it. 
 
 The very great majority of the public ecclesiastical functionaries of this district have not 
 taken the oath ; and, whilst their churches are scarcely sufficient to hold the concourse of 
 citizens, those of the priests who have taken the oath are almost deserted. In this respect, 
 the state of this district has appeared to us to be the same as that of the department of L« 
 Vendee: there, as in other parts, we have found the denominations of patriot and aristocrat 
 completely established among the people, in the same signification, and perhaps in a more 
 general manner. The disposition of people's minds in favour of the nonjuring priests ap- 
 peared to us more decided than in the department of La Vendee; the attachment felt for 
 them, the confidence reposed in them, have all the characters of the warmest and deepest 
 sentiment; ia some of these parishes, priests who have taken the oath, or citizens attached 
 to these priests, had been exposed to threats and insult : and although there, as elsewhere, 
 these acts of violence have appeared to be sometimes exaggerated, yet we ascertained — and 
 the mere report of the disposition of minds is sufficient to produce this conviction — that 
 most of the complaints were founded on undeniable rights. 
 
 At the same time that we recommended the utmost vigilance on this point to the judges 
 and to the administrators, we omitted nothing that could infuse into the people notions and 
 feelings more conformable with respect for the law and vi'ith the right of individual liberty. 
 
 We ought to inform you, gentlemen, that these very men, who had been described to us 
 as furious, as deaf to every sort of reason, left us with souls filled with peace and happiness, 
 when we had given them to understand that respect for liberty of conscience was inherent 
 in the principles of the new constitution ; they were deeply penitent and grieved for the 
 faults which some of them might have committed ; they promised us with emotion to follow 
 the advice which we gave them, to live in peace, notwithstanding the difference of their 
 religious opinions, and to respect the public functionary established by the law. They were 
 heard, as they went away, congratulating themselves on having seen us, repeating to one 
 another all that we had said to them, and mutually encouraging each other in their resolu- 
 tions of peace and good fellowship. 
 
 The same day messengers came to inform us that several of these country-people, on 
 their return home, had posted up bills declaring that each of them had engaged to denounce 
 and cause to be apprehended the first person who should injure another, and especially 
 priests who had taken the oath. 
 
 We ought to remark that, in this same district, which has long been agitated by the 
 difference of religious opinions, the arrears of taxes for 1789 and 1790, amounting to 
 700,000 livres, have been almost entirely paid up; proof of which was furnished us by the 
 directory of the district. 
 
 After we had carefully observed the state of minds and of things, we were of opinion 
 that the resolution of the directory ought not to be carried into execution, and the com- 
 missioners of the department, as well as the administrators of the directory of Chatillon, 
 were of the same opinion. 
 
 yetting aside all the motives of determination which we were enabled to draw both from 
 things and persons, we examined whether the measure adopted by the directory were in the 
 first place just in its nature, and in the next whether it were efficacious in execution. 
 
 We oonceived that the priests who have been superseded cannot be considered as in a 
 gtate of rebellion against the law, because they continue to reside in the place of their 
 former functions, especially since among these priests there are some, who, it is matter of 
 public notoriety, lead charitable and peaceful lives, far from all public and private discussion. 
 We conceived that, in the eye of the law, a man cannot be in a state of rebellion, unless 
 by putting himself in that state by precise, certain, and authenticated acts; we conceived, 
 lastly, that acts of provocation against the laws relative to the clergy and against all the 
 laws of the kingdom, ought, like all other misdemeanors, to be punished by legal forms. 
 
 Examining afterwards the efficacy of this measure, we saw that, if faithful Catholics 
 have no confidence in the priests who have taken the oath, it is not the way to inspire (hem 
 with more to remove from them in this manner the priests of their choice. We saw that» 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 215 
 
 This measure, as well as that which had just been taken against the 
 emigrants, originated in tlie anxiety which seizes governments that are 
 ihreatcned to surround themselves with excessive precautions. It is not the 
 ascertained fact which they punish, but the presumed attack against Avhich 
 they proceed, and their measures become as arbitrary and cruel as tliey are 
 euspicious. 
 
 The bisliops and the priests who had remained in Paris, and who had 
 kept up a correspondence with the King, immediately sent to him a memo- 
 rial against tlie decree. The King, who was already full of scruples, and 
 had always reproached himself for having sanctioned tlie decree of the 
 Constituent Assembly, needed no encouragement for this refusal. "As for 
 this," said he, speaking of tlie new plan, " tliey shall take my life before 
 they shall oblige me to sanction it." The ministers were nearly all of the 
 same opinion. Barnave and Lameth, whom the King occasionally con- 
 sulted, advised him to refuse his sanction : but to tliis counsel they added 
 otlier recommendations, which the King could not make up his mind to 
 follow. 'I'hcse were, tliat, in opposing the decree, he should not leave any 
 doubt respecting his disposition, and that for this purpose he should re- 
 move from about his person all priests who refused to take the oath, and 
 compose his chapel of none but constitutional ecclesiastics. 
 
 But of all the counsels which they gave him, the King adopted only such 
 as harmonized witli his weakness or his devotion. Duport-Dutertre, keeper 
 of the seals, and the organ of the constitutionalists with the ministry, 
 
 in the districls where ihc very great majority of the nonjuring priests continue to exercise 
 their functions, agreeably to the permission of the law, till they are superseded, it would 
 certainly not he, in such a system of repression, diminishing the evil to remove so small 9 
 number of persons, when you would be obliged to leave in the same places a much greater 
 number whose opinions are the same. 
 
 Such, gentlemen, are some of the ideas which have guided our conduct in this circum- 
 stance, independently of all the reasons of locality, which alone would have been strong 
 enough to oblige us to follow this line : such, in fact, was the disposition of minds, that the 
 execution of this resolution would have infallibly been the signal for a civil war in those parts. 
 
 The directory of the de{tarlment of the Deux-Sevres, apprized at first by its commis- 
 sioners, and afterwards by us, of all that we had done on this head, has been pleased to 
 present to us the expression of its thanks by a resolution of the I'Jlh of last month. 
 
 We shall add, with respect to the measure for removing the nonjuring priests who 
 have been superseded, that it was constantly proposed to ns almost unanimously by those 
 citizens of the dc[iartment of La Vendee who are attached to the priests that have taken the 
 oath— citizens who themselves form, as you have seen, the smallest portion of the inha- 
 bitants : in transmitting to you this petition we merely acquit ourselves of a commission 
 with which we have been intrusted. 
 
 Neither can we suffer you to remain ignorant that some of the priests who have taken 
 the oa'h, that we have seen, have been of a contrary opinion. One of them, in a letter 
 which be addressed to us on the 12th of September, whilst assigning to us the same causes 
 of the disturbances, whilst expatiating on the many vexations to which he is daily exposed, 
 remarked that the only way of remedying all these evils (these are his own expressions) 
 ♦'is to be tender towards the opinion of the people, whose prejudices must be cured by gen- 
 .leiiess and prudence; for," he adds, "all war on account of religion, whose wounds still 
 Lleed, must be prevented .... It is to be feared that the rigorous measures necessary, 
 under present circumstances, against the disturbers of the public peace, may appear rather 
 
 in the light of a persecution than of a punishment inflicted by the law What 
 
 prudence is it needful to employ ! Mildness, instruction, are the weapons of truth." 
 
 Such, gentlemen, is the general result of the particulars which we have collected, and tho 
 observations which we have made, in the course of the mission with which we have been 
 intrusted. The most pleasing reward of our labours would be to have facilitated for you tha 
 tneanri of establishing, on solid foundations, the tranquillity of these departments, and having 
 .esponded by the activity of our zeal to the confidence with which we have been honoured. 
 
■216 illSTORY OF THE 
 
 procured its ai)pronation of their advice : and when the council had decided, 
 to the great satisfaction of Louis XVI., that the veto should be affixed, he 
 added, as his opinion, that it would be Avell to surround the person of the 
 King with priests who were not liable to suspicion. To this proposal Louis 
 XVL, usually so flexible, manifested invincible obstinacy, and said that the 
 freedom of religious worship, decreed for everybody, ought to be allowed 
 to him as well as to his subjects, and that he ought to have the liberty of 
 appointing about him such priests as he approved. The ministers did not 
 insist, and, without as yet communicating the circumstance to the Assembly, 
 the veto was decided upon. 
 
 The constitutional party, to which the King seemed to consign himself 
 at this moment, brought him a fresh reinforcement. This was the directory 
 of the department, which was composed of the most esteemed members of 
 the Constitutional Assembly. Among them were the Duke de Larouche- 
 foucault, the Bishop of Autun, Baumets, Desmeuniers, Ansons, <fcc. It 
 presented a petition to the King, not as an administrative body, but as a 
 meeting of petitioners, and called for the affixing of the veto to the decree 
 against the priests. 
 
 "The National Assembly," they said, "certainly meant well; we love 
 to avenge it here on its guilty detractors ; but so laudable a design has pro- 
 pelled it towards measures of which neither the constitution, justice, nor 
 prudence can approve. It makes the payment of the pensions of all eccle- 
 siastics not in office depend on the taking of the civic oath, whereas the 
 constitution has expressly and literally classed those pensions with the 
 public debts. Now, can the refusal to take any oath whatever destroy the 
 tide of an acknowledged credit ! The Constituent Assembly has done what 
 it could do on behalf of the nonjuring priests ; they refused to take the pre- 
 scribed oath, and it has deprived them of their functions ; in dispossessing 
 them, it has reduced them to a pension. The Legislative Assembly pro- 
 poses that the ecclesiastics who have not taken the oath, or who have 
 retracted it, may, during religious disturbances, be temporarily removed, and 
 imprisoned if they fail to obey the order which shall be intimated to them. 
 Is not this renewing the system of arbitrary orders, since it permits the 
 punishing with exile, and soon afterwards with imprisonment, one who has 
 not yet been convicted of having offended against any law ? The National 
 Assembly refuses all those Avho shall not take the civic oath the free exer- 
 cise of their religious worship. Now, this liberty cannot be wrested from 
 any person. It is guaranteed forever in the declaration of rights." 
 
 These reasons were certainly excellent, but it is impossible to allay with 
 arguments either the animosities or the fears of parties. How persuade an 
 Assembly that it ought to permit refractory priests to excite disturbance and 
 civil war? The directory was abused, and its petition to the King was 
 combated by a multitude of others addressed to the legislative body. Ca- 
 mille Desmoulins presented a very bold petition at the head of a section ; 
 in which might be already perceived an increasing violence of language, 
 and a renunciation of all the respect hitherto paid to the authorities and to 
 the King. Desmoulins told the Assembly that a signal example was re- 
 quired ; that the directory ought to be tried ; that it was the leaders who 
 ought to be prosecuted ; that it ought to strike at the head, and launch 
 thunderbolts at the conspirators ; that the power of the royal veto had a 
 limit, and that a veto would not prevent the taking of a Bastille. 
 
 Louis XVL, though determined to refuse his sanction, hesitated to ac* 
 Quaint the Assembly with his resolution. He wished first, by certain acts 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION, 217 
 
 to conciliate the public opinion. He selected his ministers from among the 
 constitulioiiul party. MoiUinorin,' weary of his laborious career under the 
 Constituent Assembly, and of his arduous negotiations with all the parties, 
 could not be induced to encounter tlie storms of a new le2:islature, and had 
 retired in spite of the entreaties of the King. The ministry for foreign 
 affairs, refused by several persons, was accepted by Delessart, who, in order 
 to assume it, relinquished that of the interior. Delessart, an upright and 
 euligliteued man, was under tlie influence of the Constitutionalists, or Feuil- 
 lans ; but he was too weak to fix tlic will of the King, and to overawe 
 foreign powers and domestic factions. Cahicr de Gerville, a decided patriot, 
 but rather rough than persuasive, was appointed to the interior, to gratify 
 public opinion. Narbonne, a young man, full of activity and ardour, a 
 zealous constitutionalist, and who understood the art of making himself 
 popular, was placed at the licad of the war department by ilie party Avhich 
 then composed the ministry. He miglit have had a beneficial inlluence 
 upon the council, and reconciled the Assembly with the King, if he had not 
 had an adversary in Bertrand de Molleville, a counter-revolutionary minister, 
 who was preferred by the court to all the others.f Bertrand de JMolleville, 
 detesting the constitution, artfully wrapped himself up in the letter for the 
 purpose of attacking its spirit, and sincerely desired that the King would 
 attempt to execnlc it, "merely," as he said, "to prove that it was not 
 practicable." 'i'he King could not make up his mind to dismiss him, and 
 with this mixed ministry he endeavoured to pursue his course. After he 
 had endeavoured to gratify public opinion l)y these appointments, he tried 
 other means for attaching it to liim still more ; and he appeared to accede to 
 all the diplomatic and military measures proposed against the assemblages 
 formed upon the Rhine. 
 
 The last repressive laws had been prevented by the veto, and yet every 
 day fresii denunciations apprized tlie Assembly of the preparations and the 
 threats of the emigrants. The reports [■j)rnce.'i-vcrbcau.r) of the munici- 
 palities and departments on the frontiers, and the accounts given by com- 
 mercial men cominsr from bevond the Rhine, attested that the Viscount de 
 Mirabcau, brother of the celebrated member of the Constituent x\ssembly, 
 was at tlie head of six hundred men in the bishopric of Strasburg ; that, in 
 the territory of the elector of ]\jiift+zr, and near Worms, there were numerous 
 corps of emigrants, under the command of the Prince of Conde ; that the 
 same w^as the case at Coblentz and throu<rhout the M'hole electorate of 
 Treves ; that outrages and acts of violence had been committed upon 
 Frenchmen ; and lastly, that a proposal had been made to General Wimplen 
 to deliver up New Brisach. 
 
 These accounts, in addition to many other circumstances that were matter 
 
 • " Of all the men who played an important part in the Revolution, M. de Montmorin is 
 perhaps the person who is least known, and has been judged with the greatest severity. He 
 was neither constitutionalist nor democrat, but a real royalist. The extreme weakness of 
 his character prevented him from being useful to his majesty in circumstances that required 
 much enerjiy. This moral weakness had its source in a sickly constitution, a.id can rn 
 more bo imputed to him as a crime, than his being of a low stature, and slender frame of 
 body"— Bertrand de Molleville. E. 
 
 ■[■"Two of the ministers were zealous patriots ; two others were moderate, but honest; 
 the fifth, Bertrand de Molleville, minister of the navy, was a decided aristocrat; the sixth, 
 M. do Narborme, a constitutionalist, full of ardour and activity. The latter had cause to be 
 dissatisfied with M. Bertrand. Narbonne was displeasing to the court, from the frankness 
 of his disposition, the patriotism of his conduct, and his attachment to Lafayette." — Lor 
 fayettes Memoirs. E. 
 VOL. I. — 28 
 
218 HISTORY JF THE 
 
 of public notoriety, drove the Assembly to the last degree of iiritation. A 
 decree was immediately proposed, to require of the electors the disarming 
 of the emigrants. The decision was deferred for two days, that it might 
 not appear to be too much hurried. After this delay the discussion com- 
 menced. 
 
 Isnard^ was the first speaker. He insisted upon the necessity of in* 
 suring tlic tranquillity of the kingdom, not in a temporary, but m a durable 
 manner ; of overawing by prompt and vigorous measures, which should 
 attest to all Europe the patriotic resolutions of France. " Fear not," said 
 he, " to bring upon yourselves a war with the great powers. Interest has 
 already decided their intentions. Your measures will not change them, but 
 will oblige them to explain themselves. The conduct of the Frenchman 
 ought to correspond wdth his new destiny. A slave under Louis XVI., he 
 was nevertheless intrepid and great. Now that he is free, ought he to be 
 weak ?nd timid? They are mistaken, said Montesquieu, who imagine that 
 a people in a state of revolution are disposed to be conquered. They are 
 ready, on the contrary, to conquer others. (^Applause.) 
 
 *' Capitulations are proposed to you. It is proposed to increase the power 
 of the King — of a man whose will can paralyze that of the whole nation, 
 of a man wdio receives thirty millions, while thousands of citizens are 
 perishing from want ! [Fresh applause.) It is proposed to bring back the 
 nobility. Were all the nobles on earth to attack us, the French, holding 
 their gold in one hand and the sword in the other, would combat that 
 haughty race, and force it to endure the punishment of equality. 
 
 " Talk to the ministers, to the King, and to Europe, the language befitting 
 the representatives of France. Tell the ministers that, so far, you are not 
 satisfied with their conduct, and that by responsibility you mean death. 
 [Prolonged applause.) Tell Europe that you will respect the constitutions 
 of all other countries, but that, if a war of kings is raised against France, 
 you will raise a war of people against kings." The applause was here 
 renewed. " Say," he added, " that the battles which nations fight at the 
 command of despots are like the blows which two friends, excited by a per- 
 fidious instigator, strike at each other in the dark. The moment a light 
 appears they embrace, and take vengeance on him who deluded them. In 
 like manner, if, at the moment when the hostile armies shall be engaged 
 with ours, the light of philosophy bursts upon their sight, the nations will 
 embrace one another before the face of dethroned tyrants, of consoled earth, 
 and of delighted Heaven !" 
 
 The enthusiasm excited by these words was such that the members 
 thronged around the speaker to embrace him. The decree which he sup- 
 ported was instantly adopted. M. de Vaublanc was directed to carry it to 
 
 * "M. Isnard, a wholesale perfumer at Draguiirnan, was deputed from Var to the legis- 
 lature; and afterwards to the convention. His father, who was rich, had taken great pains 
 with his education. In 1793 he voted for the King's death, observing, that 'were the 
 lightnings of heaven in his hands, he would blast with them all those who should attack 
 the sovereignty of the people.' Isnard was outlawed as a Girondin, on the fail of that party, 
 out succeeded in making his escape, and, after the overthrow of the Mountaineers, resumed 
 his seat in the Convention. Being then sent to the department of the Bouches du Rhone, 
 he there declaimed vehemently against the Terrorists, who afterwards accused him ol having 
 encouraged the bloody reprisals made on them in the South, and of having addressed the 
 people as follows: ' If you meet any Terrorists, strike them: if you have not arms, you 
 have sticks; if you have not sticks, dig up your parents, and with their bones knock down 
 the monsters!' In 1796, Isnard became a member of the Council of Five Hundred. In 
 1801 he puDhshed a work on the Immortality of the Soul." — Blogrnphie Muderne. E 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 219 
 
 tlie King, at the head of n. deputation of twenty-four members. By this 
 decree the Assembly declared that it considered it indispensably necessary 
 to require the electors of Treves and Mentz, and the other princes of the 
 empire, to break up tlie assemblages formed on the frontiers. At the same 
 time it prayed the King to accelerate the negotiations commenced respecting 
 the indemnities due to the princes who had possessions in Alsace. 
 
 M. de Vaublanc accompanied this decree with a firm and respectful 
 address, which was highly applauded by the Assembly. "Sire," said he, 
 " if the French, driven from their country by the revocation of the edict of 
 Nantes, had assembled in arms on the frontiers, and had been protected by 
 German princes, we ask you, sire, whai would have been the conduct of 
 Louis XIV.? AVould he have suflered these assemblages ? What he would 
 have done for the sake of his authority, your majesty cannot hesitate to do 
 for the maintenance of the constitution." 
 
 Louis XVL, having determined, as we have said, to counteract the effect 
 of the veto by acts whicli should gratify public opinion, resolved to go to 
 the Assembly and personally reply to its message in a speech likely to 
 give it satisfaction. 
 
 On the I'Uh of December, in the evening, the King accordingly went, after 
 iiaving announced his intention in the morning by a mere note. He said 
 that the message of the Assembly deserved mature consideration, and that, 
 in a circumstance in which French honour was involved, he deemed it right 
 to come in person ; tliat, sharing the intentions of the Assembly, but dread- 
 ino- Uic scourire of war, he had endeavoured to bring back the misled French ; 
 that friendly remonstrances having proved ineffectual, he had anticipated 
 the message of the representatives, and signified to the electors, that if, 
 before the 15th of January, the assemblage of troops should nothavc ceased, 
 they should be considered as enemies of France; that he had written to the 
 emperor to claim his interference as head of the empire; and that, in case 
 satisfaction were not obtained, he should propose war. lie concluded Avith 
 saying that it Avould be vain to attempt to surround the exercise of his 
 authority with disgust; that he would faithfully guard the deposit of tlic 
 constitution; and that he deeply felt how glorious it Avas to be King of a 
 free people. 
 
 Applause succeeded the silence, and made the King amends for the 
 reception Avhich he had experienced on entering. The Assembly having 
 resolved in the morning that he should be answered by a message, could 
 not immediately express its satisfaction, but gave orders that his speech 
 should be sent to the eighty-three departments. Narbonne soon afterwards 
 entered, to communicate the means which had been adopted to insure the 
 effect of the intimations addressed to the empire. One hundred thousand 
 men were to be assembled on the Rhine ; and this, he added, was noi 
 impossible. Three generals were appointed to command them, Luckner, 
 Rocliambeau, and Lafayette.' The last name was received with applause. 
 
 * " Lnckncr had been the most distinguished partisan of the seven years' war. After the 
 peace of i763, the Duke of Choiseul drew him into our service. He was much attached to 
 the new constitution, but without pretending to understand it; and when the Jacobins 
 wishod to exalt his Iil)eral opinions, he often embarrassed them by making the most absurd 
 Dlunders. He had not the power of forming great combinations, but he had a quick eye, 
 the hal)it of mihtary tactics, and all the activity of youth. Rochambeau, who had made hia 
 fortune by arms, had been engaged in the war of Flanders, and Jislinguished himself also in 
 the seven years' war. He never lost sight of the points most important to the soldier's trade. 
 These two marshals had one fault in common — they were too distrustful of their new and 
 
220 HISTOUY OF THE 
 
 Narbonne added that he should set out immediately to inspect the frontiersj 
 to ascertain the state of the fortresses, and to give the greatest activity to 
 defensive operations ; that no doubt the Assembly would grant the necessary 
 funds, and not cheapen liberty. Cries of " No, no," burst from all sides. 
 Lastly, he asked the Assembly if, though the legal number of marshals was 
 complete, it would not permit the King to confer that rank on the two gene- 
 rals, Luckner, and Rochambeau, who were charged to save liberty. Accla- 
 mations testified the consent of the Assembly and the satisfaction caused by 
 the activity of the young minister. It was by persevering in such conduct 
 that Louis XVL might have succeeded in gaining popularity and reconciling 
 the republicans, who wished for a republic solely because they believed the 
 King to be incapable of loving and defending liberty. 
 
 Advantage was taken of the satisfaction produced by these measures to 
 notify the veto affixed to the decree against the priests. Care was taken to 
 publish in the journals of the same morning, the dismissal of the former 
 diplomatic agents accused of aristocracy, and the appointment of new ones. 
 Owing to these precautions, the message was received without a murmur. 
 The Assembly, indeed, expected it, and the sensation was not so unfavour- 
 able as might have been apprehended. We see how extremely cautious the 
 King was obliged to be in making use of his prerogative, and what danger 
 he incurred in employing it. Had the Constituent Assembly, which is 
 accused of having ruined by stripping him of his authority, conferred on 
 him the absolute veto., would he have been more powerful on that account? 
 Had not the suspensive veto in this case all the effect of the absolute vetc'^ 
 Was it legal power that the King lacked, or the power of opinion? "We 
 see, from the effect itself, that it was not the want of sufficient preroga- 
 tives which ruined Louis XVL, but the indiscreet use of those which were 
 left him. 
 
 The activity promised to the Assembly was not delayed. The proposi- 
 tions for the expenses of the war and for the nomination of the two mar- 
 shals, Luckner, and Rochambeau, followed without interruption. Lafayette, 
 forced from the retirement which he had sought, in order to recruit himself 
 after three years' fatigues, presented himself before the Assembly, where 
 he was cordially received. Battalions of the national guard escorted him 
 on leaving Paris, and every thing proved to him that the name of Lafayette 
 was not forgotten, but that he was still regarded as one of the founders of 
 liberty. 
 
 Meanwhile Leopold, naturally peaceful, was not desirous of war, for he 
 knew that it was not consistent with his interests ; but he wished for a con- 
 gress backed by an imposing force, in order to bring about an accommoda- 
 tion and some modifications in the constitution. The emigrants wished noi 
 to modify but to destroy it.* More prudent and better informed, theempe- 
 
 inexperienced troops. Lafayette did not share this feeling. He augured better of the 
 enthusiasm for liberty, having been an American general officer at the age of nineteen. 
 With the exception of these three generals, there was not an officer in the French army who 
 had ever fought at the head of two thousand men." — L(tfayette\s Memoirs. E. 
 
 * "The emigrants were unanimous in their desire for an invasion, and in their exertions 
 at all foreign courts. M. de Calonne, the principal agent of the princes, had publicly said at 
 Brussels, 'If the powers delay making war, we shall know how to make the French declare 
 it.' The King and Queen hesitated between various parties. The Queen especially, who 
 would have consented to owe her deliverance to Austrian or even Prussian arms, was with- 
 held by her reluctance to lay herself under obligations to Monsieur, whom she never likedi 
 Bud the Count d'Artois, whom she no longer liked. 'The Count d'Artois will then bei-oral 
 at hero f she exclaimed, in a tone of bitterness." — Lafayette's Memoirs. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 221 
 
 or knew that it was necessary to concede a great deal to the new opinions 
 and that the utmost that could be expected Avas to restore to the King certain 
 prerogatives, and to modify the composition of the legislative body by the 
 establishment of two chambers instead of one.'- 
 
 * I have already had occasion to refer several timcrj to the sentiments of Leopold, of Louia 
 XVI,, and of the emierantG: I shall now quote some extracts, which will leave no doubt 
 respecting them. Bouille, who was abroad, and whose reputation and talents had caused 
 him to be courted by the sovereigns, had opportunities of learning belter than any other per- 
 son the sentiments of the dilTerent courts, and his testimony is above suspicion. In different 
 parts of his Memoirs he thus expresses himself: 
 
 *' It may be inferred from this letter that the King of Sweden was quite uncertain respect- 
 ing the real plans of the emperor and his allies, which ought then to have been not to inter- 
 fere any more in the affairs of France. The empress (of Russia) was no doubt informed of 
 them, but she had not communicated them to him. I knew that at the moment she was 
 exerting all her influence with the emperor and the King of Prussia to induce them to declare 
 war against France. She had even written a very strong letter to the former of these sove- 
 reigns, in which she represented to him that the King of Prussia, for a mere incivility offered 
 to his sister, had sent an army into Holland, whilst he (ihe emperor) patiently suffered the 
 insults and affronts heaped upon the Queen of France, the degradation of her rank and dig- 
 nity, and the overthrow of the throne of a King, who was his brother-in-law and ally. Tho 
 empress acted with the like energy towards Spain, which had adopted pacific principles. 
 Meanwhile the emperor, after the acccfilanco of the conslilution by the King, had received 
 the new ambassador of France, whom he had previously forbidden to appear at his court- 
 He was even the first to admit the national flag into his ports. I^he courts of Madrid, 
 Petersburg, and Stockholm, were the only ones wliich at this period withdrew their amlias- 
 sadors from Paris. All these circumstances tend to prove that the views of Leopold were 
 directed towards peace, and that they were the result of the influence of Louis XVI. and of 
 the Queen." — Mcinnires Je Bouille, p. 311. 
 
 In another place Bouille says : 
 
 " Meanwhile several months elapsed without my perceiving any progress in the plans which 
 the emperor had entertained for assembling armies on the frontiers, for forming a congress, 
 and for ojjening a negotiation with the French government. I presumed that the King had 
 hoped that his acceptance of the new conslilution would restore to him his personal liberty, 
 and re-establish Iranquillity in the nation, which an armed negotiation might have disturbed ; 
 and that he had consequeiil'y prevailed upim the emperor and the other sovereigns, his allies, 
 not to take any step liable to produce hostilities, which he had constantly studied to avoid. I 
 was confirmed in this opinion by the unwillingness of the court of Spain to furnish the fifteen 
 millions of livres, which she had engaged to give him towards the expensesof his expedition. 
 This prince had prevailed on me to write on his behalf to the Spanish minister, from whom 
 I received only vague replies. I then advised the King of Sweden to open a 'oan in Holland, 
 or in the free maritime cities of the north, under the guarantee of Spain, whose dispositions, 
 however, in regard to the alTairs of France, appeared lo me to be changed. 
 
 *• I learned that the anarchy was daily increasing in France, and this was but too plainly 
 proved by the multitude of emigrants of all classes who sought refuge on th** *breign frontiers. 
 They were armed and formed into regiments on the banks of the Rhine, and they composed 
 a little army which threatened the provinces of Alsace and Lorraine. These measures awakened 
 the fury of the people, and aided the destructive projects of the Jacobins and anarchists 
 The emigrants had even planned an altem[)t upon Slrasburg, where they imagined that they 
 had supporters who could be relied on, and partisans who would open the gates to them. Tho 
 King, who was informed of the scheme, employed commands and even entreaties to stop 
 tncm, and to prevent them from committing any act of hostility. To this end he sent to the 
 princts, his brothers, the Baron de Viomenil, and the Chevalier de Cogny, who signified to 
 them, in his name, his disapprobation of the arming of the French nobility, to which the 
 cnperor opposed all possible obstacles, but which was nevertheless continued." — Ibid^ 
 p. 30& 
 
 Lastly, Bouille gives, from the lips of Leopold himself, his plan of a congress: 
 
 " At length, on the 12lh of September, the Emperor Leopold sent me word to call on him, 
 and to bring with me the plan of the arrangements for which he had previously asked mo. 
 He desired me to step into his cabinet, and told me that lie could not L^peak to me earlier o« 
 the subject concerning which he wished to see me, because he was waiting for answers from 
 Russia, Spain, England, and the principal sovereigns of Italy ; that he had received them, and 
 
 T 2 
 
222 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 This last measure was the most dreaded, and it was with the plan of it 
 that the Feuillant or constitutional party v/as most frequendy reproached. 
 It is certain that, if this party had, in the early time of the Constituent As- 
 sembly, opposed the upper chamber, because it justly apprehended that the 
 nobility would there intrench themselves, it had not now the same fears. On 
 the contrary, it had just hopes of filling such a chamber almost of itself. 
 Many constituents, reduced to mere ciphers, would there have found occa- 
 sion to appear again on the political stage. If then this upper chamber did 
 not accord with their views, still less did it accord widi their interests. It 
 is certain that the newspapers frequendy adverted to it, and that this report 
 ■«vas universally circulated. How rapid had been the progress of the Revo- 
 'ution ! The right side at this time was composed of members of the former 
 left side ; and the plan so dreaded and condemned, was not a return to the 
 old system but the establishment of an upper chamber. What a difference 
 from 1789 ! How swiftly a foolish resistance had hurried on events ! 
 
 Leopold perceived then no other possible amelioration for Louis XVL 
 Meanwhile, his object was to protract the negotiations, and, without break- 
 ing with France, to awe her by his firmness. But this aim he thwarted by 
 his answer. This answer consisted in a notification of the resolutions of the 
 diet of Ratisbon, which refused to accept any indemnity for the princes who 
 had possessions in Alsace. Nothing could be more absurd than such a de- 
 cision ; for the whole territory subject to one and the same rule ought also 
 to be sub.ject to the same laws. If princes of the empire had estates in 
 France, it was right that they should be comprehended in the abolition of 
 feudal rights, and the Constituent Assembly had done a great deal in grant- 
 ing indemnities for them. Several of those princes having already treated 
 on this point, the diet annulled their agreements, and forbade them to accept 
 any composition. The empire thus pretended not to recognise the Revolu- 
 tion in as far as itself was concerned. Widi regard to the assemblacres of 
 
 o o' 
 
 they were conformable with his intentions anJ his plans; that he was assured of their assist- 
 ance in the execution, and of their agreement ; excepting, however, the cabinet of St. James's, 
 which had declared its determination to preserve th(! strictest neutrality. He had taken the 
 lesolution to assemble a congress, to treat with the French government, not only concerning 
 the redress of the grievances of the Germanic body, whose rights in Alsace and in other parts 
 uf the frontier provinces had been violated, but at the same time concerning the means of 
 restoring order in the kingdom of France, the anarchy of which disturbed the tranquillity of 
 all Europe. He added, that this negotiation should be supported by formidable armies, with 
 which France would be encompassed ; that he hoped this expedient would succeed and pre- 
 vent a sanguinary war, the very last resource that he would employ. I took the liberty of 
 asking the emperor if he was informed of the real intentions of the King. He was acquainted 
 with them; he knew that this prince disliked the employment of violent means. He told 
 nie that he was, moreover, informed that the chaiter of the new constitution was to be pre- 
 sented to him in a few days, and that it was his opinion that the King could not avoid 
 accepting it without restriction, from the risks to which he would subject his life and the lives 
 of his family, if he made the least difficulty, and if he hazarded the slightest observation; but 
 that his sanction, forced at the time, was of no importance, as it was possible to rescind all 
 that should have been done, and to give France a good government, which should satisfy the 
 people, and leave to the royal authority a latitude of powers sufficient to maintain tranquillity 
 at home and to insure peace abroad. He asked me for the plan of disposition of the armies, 
 assuring me that he would examine it at leisure. He added, that I might return to Mentz, 
 where Count de Brown, who was to command h'.s troops, and who was then in the Nether- 
 lands, would send word to me, aa well as to Prince Hoheulohe, who was going into Franco* 
 nia, in ordr r that we migh^ confer together, when the time should arrive. 
 
 "I judi^cd that the emperor had no>^ adf^pted this pacific and extremely reasonable plan, 
 Kince the conference of Pilnitz, till he had consu'tcd Louis XVI., who had constantly wished 
 for ari arrangement, and to have reco'arse *.o negotiation rather than the violent expedient o* 
 wms "- md., p. 299. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 223 
 
 emiorants, Leopold, without entering into explanation on the subject of their 
 dispersion, answered Louis XVL that, as the Elector of Treves miglit, ac- 
 cording to the intimations of the French government, be exposed to speedy 
 hostihlics, lie had ordered General Bender to give him prompt assistance 
 
 Nothing could have been more injudicious than tliis answer. It obliged 
 Louis XVL, in order that he might not compromise himself, to adopt vigor- 
 ous measures and to propose war. Delessart was immediately sent to tlie 
 Assembly to communicate this answer, and to express the -istonislmient 
 Avhich the Kiuj^ felt at the conduct of Leopold. The minister alleged that 
 tlic emperor had probably been deceived, and that he had been faltely per- 
 suaded that the elector had performed all the duties of a friendly neiglibour. 
 Delessart communicated also the reply returned to Leopold. It was inti- 
 mated to him that, notwilhstandino; his answer and the orders frivcn to Mar- 
 shal Bender, if the electors had not, by the time prescribed, namely, the 15th 
 of January, complied with the requisition of France, arms Avould be employed 
 against thein. 
 
 "If," said Louis XVL, in his letter to the Assembly, "this declaration 
 fails to produce the effect which I have reason to hope from it, if it is the 
 destiny of France to he obliged to light her own children, and her allies, I 
 will make known to Europe the justice of our cause: the French people 
 will uphold it by tlioir courage, and the nation will see that I have no other 
 interest but its interest, and that I shall ever consider the maintenance of its 
 dignity and safety as the most essential of my duties." 
 
 I'hose words, in which the Kinir seemed in the common damper to unite 
 with tlie nation, were warmly ap|)Iauded. The papers were delivered to 
 the diplomatic committee, with directions to make a speedy report upon 
 them to the Assembly, 
 
 The Queen was once more applauded at tlie Opera as in the days of her 
 splendour and Iier power, and, quite overjoyed, she told her husband on her 
 return that she had been received as formerly. But this w^as the last homao-e 
 paid to her by a people which had once idolized her royal graces. That 
 feeling of equality, which remains so long dormant in men, and which is so 
 capricious wlicn it does awake, began already to manifest itself on all sides. 
 It was very near the conclusion of the year 1791 ; the Assembly abolished 
 the ancient ceremonial of new year's day, and decided that the homage paid 
 to the King on that solemn day should thenceforth cease. Just about the 
 same time, a deputation complained that the folding-doors of the council- 
 chamber had not been opened for it. The discussion was scandalous, and 
 the Assembly in writing to the King, suppressed the titles of sire and ma- 
 jcsty. On another occasion, a deputy entered the King's apartment M'ilh 
 his hat on, and in a very unsuitable dress. This conduct was frequently 
 provoked by the rude reception civen by the courtiers to the deputies ; and 
 in these reprisals the pride of both was determined not to be outdone. 
 
 Narbonne prosecuted his tour with extraordinary activity. Three armies 
 were formed on the threatened frontier. Rochambeau, a veteran general, 
 who had formerly displayed ability in Avar, but \vho was now ailing, ill-hu- 
 moured, and discontented, commanded the army stationed in Flanders, and 
 called the army of the North. Lafayette had the army of tlie centre, and 
 was encamped near Metz. Luckner, an old warrior, an ordinary general, 
 a brave soldier, and very popular in the army for his exclusively military 
 manners, commanded the corps which occupied Alsace. These were all tli« 
 generals that a long peace and a general desertion had left us. 
 
 Rochambeau. dissatisfied with the new system, and irritated with th« 
 
224 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 want of discipline which prevailed in the army, was constantly complaining 
 and held out no hope to tlie ministers. Lafayette, young, active, and anx- 
 ious to distinguish himself forthwith in the defence of the country, re-esta- 
 blished discipline among his troops, and overcame all the ditTiculties raised 
 by the ill-will of the officers, who were the aristocrats of the army. He 
 called them together, and, addressing them in the language of honour, he 
 told them that they must quit the camp if they would not serve loyally; 
 that, if any of them wished to retire, he would undertake to procure them 
 either pensions in France, or passports for foreign countries ; but that, if 
 they persisted in serving, he expected from them zeal and fidelity. In this 
 manner he contrived to introduce into his army better order than that which 
 prevailed in any of the others. As for Luckner, having no political opinion, 
 and being consequently indifferent to all systems, he promised the Assem- 
 bly a great deal, and actually succeeded in gaining the attachment of the 
 soldiers. 
 
 Narbonne travelled with the greatest expedition, and returned to give an 
 account of his rapid journey to the Assembly. He reported that the repair 
 of the fortresses was already considerably advanced : that the army, from 
 Dunkirk to Besan(^on, presented a mass of two hundred and forty battalions, 
 and one hundred and sixty squadrons, with artillery requisite for two hun- 
 dred thousand men, and supplies for six months. He bestowed the highest 
 encomiums on the patriotism of the volunteer national guards, and declared 
 that in a short time their equipment would be complete. The young minis- 
 ter no doubt gave way to the illusions of zeal, but his intentions were so 
 noble, and his operations so prompt, that the Assembly loaded him with 
 applause, held forth his report to the public gratitude, and sent it to aU the 
 departments — the usual way of expressing esteem for those with whom it 
 was satisfied. 
 
 War then was the great question of the moment. For the Revolution it 
 was a question of existence itself. Its enemies being now abroad, it was 
 there that it became necessary to seek and to conquer them. Would the King, 
 as chief of the armies, act cordially against his relatives and his former cour- 
 tiers ? Such was the doubt which it was of importance to clear up to the 
 satisfaction of the nation. This question of war was discussed at the 
 Jacobins, which suffered none to pass without pronouncing a sovereign de- 
 cision upon it. What will appear singular is, that the outrageous Jacobins, 
 and Robespierre, their leader, were in favour of peace, and the moderate 
 Jacobins, or Girondins, for war.* Brissot and Louvet were at their head. 
 Brissot advocated war with his talents and influence. He thought with 
 Louvet and all the Girondins that it was desirable for the nation, because it 
 would put an end to a dangerous uncertainty, and unveil the real intentions 
 of the King. These men, judging of the result by their own enthusiasm, 
 could not believe that the nation would be conquered ; and they thought 
 that if, through the fault of the King, it experienced any transient check, 
 it would instantly be enlightened and depose an unfaithful chief. How 
 liappened it that Robespierre and the other Jacobins opposed a determina- 
 tion which must produce so speedy and so decisive a denouement? In 
 
 • " The Jacobins attached to Robespierre, were opposed to war, because they feared Its 
 being directed by their political rivals, and also because several of them, from pecuniary intc» 
 rests, like Danton, or from causes of which they themselves were ignorant, were under the 
 gumance of that small party of the couit who were engaged in secret negotiations. The 
 Girondins, at that period, wished for war at any price, in the hope that it would facilitate 
 their ragxie projects of ambition." — Lafayette's Memoirs. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. ' 225 
 
 answer to this question nothing but conjectiires can be offered. Was the 
 timid Robespierre afraid of war I Or did he oppose it only because Brissot, 
 his rival at the Jacobins, supported it, and because young Louvet had de- 
 fended it with ability ? Be this as it may, he fought with extreme obstinacy 
 for peace. The Cordeliers, who were Jacobins, attended the discussion, 
 and supported Robespierre. They seemed more especially afraid lest war 
 should give too many advantages to Lafayette, and soon procure for him 
 the military dictatorship. This was the continual fear of Camille Desmou- 
 lini), who never ceased to figure him to himself at the head of a victorious 
 army, as in the Champ de Mars, crushing Jacobins and Cordeliers. Louvet 
 and the Girondins attributed a difTerent motive to the Cordeliers, and sup- 
 posed them to be hostile to Lafayette, because he was an enemy of the Duke 
 of Orleans, with whom they were said to be secretly united. 
 
 The Duke of Orleans, now again brought before the public by the suspi- 
 cions of his enemies rather than by the Revolution, was then nearly eclipsed. 
 At the commencement, his name miglit have had some weight, and he him- 
 self might have conceived some hope of those to whom he lent it ; but 
 everytliiiig had since greatly changed. Feeling himself how much he was 
 out of his place in the popular party, he had endeavoured to obtain the par- 
 don of the court during the latter days of the Constituent Assembly, and had 
 been repulsed. Under the Legislative, he had been retained iji tlie list of 
 admirals, and lie had made fresh solicitations to the King. On this occa- 
 sion he was admitted to his presence, had a long conversation with him, and 
 was not unfavourably received. He was to return to the palace. He re- 
 paired thither. The Queen's dinner was served, and numerous courtiers 
 were in attendance. No sooner was he perceived than the most insulting 
 expressions were uttered. "Take care of the dishes!" was the general 
 cry, as though they had been afraid that he would throw poison into them. 
 They pushed him, trod on his toes, and obliged him to retire. As he went 
 down stairs, lie received fresh insults, and departed in deep indignation, 
 conceiving that the King and Queen had prepared for him tliis humiliating 
 scene. They, hoAvever, were totally ignorant of it, and were extremely 
 shocked at the imprudence of the courtiers.* That prince had a right to be 
 
 * The following is Bertrand de Molleville's account of this circumstance : 
 
 " I made a report on the same day to the council of the visit paid me by the Duke of Or- 
 leans and of our conversation. The King determined to receive him, and on the next day 
 he had a conversation with him of more than half an hour, with which his majesty appeared 
 to us to be much pleased. ' I think, like you,' said the King, * that he is perfectly sincere, 
 and that he will do all that lies in his power to repair the mischief which he has done, and 
 in which it is possible that he may not have taken so large a part as we have imagined.' 
 
 " On the following Sunday, became to the King's levee, where he met with the most hu- 
 miliating reception from the courtiers, who were ignorant of what had passed, and from the 
 royalists, who were in the habit of repairing to the palace in great numbers on that day, to 
 pay their court to the royal family. They crowded around him, maki.ng believe to tread 
 upon his toes and to thrust him towards the door, eo as to prevent him from entering. Ho 
 went down stairs to the Queen, whose table was already laid. The moment he appeared, a 
 cry was raised on all sides of Gentlemen, take care of the dishes ! as though they had been 
 ture that his pockets were full of poison. 
 
 " The insulting murmurs which his presence everywhere excited forced him to retire with 
 out seeing the royal family. He was pursued to the Queen's staircase, where some one spat 
 on his head and several times upon his coat. Rage and vexation were depicted in his face, 
 and he left the palace convinced that the instigators of the outrages which he had received were 
 the King and Queen, who knew nothing of the matter, and who indeed were extremely 
 angry about it. He swore implacable hatred against them, and kept but too faithfully thia 
 horrible oath. I was at the palace that day, and witnessed all the circumstances that I have 
 here related." — Bertrand de Molleville, tome vi., p. 290. E. 
 VOL. I. — 29 
 
226 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 more exasperated than ever, but he certainly became neither a more active 
 nor a more able party-leader than before. His friends at the Jacobins and 
 in the Assembly, no doubt, thought fit to make a little more noise ; hence it 
 was supposed that his faction was again raising its head, and it was thought 
 that his pretensions and his hopes were renewed by the dangers of the 
 throne. 
 
 The Girondins imagined that the extreme Cordeliers and Jacobins advo- 
 cated peace with no other view than to deprive Lafayette, the rival of the 
 Duke of Orleans, of the reputation which war might give him. Be this as 
 it may, war, deprecated by the Jacobins, but supported by the Girondins, 
 could not fail to be adopted by the Assembly, in which the latter had the 
 ascendancy. The Assembly began by putting under accusation, from the 
 first of January, Monsieur, the King's brother, the Count d'Artois,* the 
 Prince of Conde, Calonne, Mirabeau the younger ,t *^:'.d Lequeille, as charged 
 with the commission of hostilities against France. As a decree of accusa- 
 tion was not submitted to the King for his sanction, no veto was in this case 
 to be apprehended. xTie sequestration of the property of the emigrants, 
 and the applicaticii of their revenues to the benefit of the state, enacted by 
 the unsanctioned decree, were prescribed anew by another decree, to which 
 the King made no opposition. The Assembly took possession of the reve- 
 nuas as indemnities for the war. Monsieur was deprived of the regency 
 by virtue of the resolution previously adopted. 
 
 The report of the last despatch of the emperor was at length presented 
 to the Assembly by Gensonne. He represented that France had always 
 lavished her treasures and her troops for Austria without ever obtaining any 
 return ; that the treaty of alliance conclud«^d in 1756 had been violated by 
 the declaration of Pilnitz, and the subsequent declarations, the object of 
 which was to raise up an armed coalition of sovereigns ; that this had like- 
 wise been done by the arming of the emigrants, permitted and even seconded 
 by the princes of the empire. Gensonne, moreover, insisted that, though 
 orders had recently been given for the dispersion of such assemblages, those 
 apparent orders had not been executed ; that the white cockade had not 
 ceased to be worn beyond the Rhine, the national cockade to be insulted, 
 and French travellers maltreated ; that, in consequence, it behoved the As- 
 sembly to demand of the emperor a final explanation relative to the treaty 
 of 1756. The report was ordered to be printed, and the considerafion of 
 it adjourned. 
 
 * Monsieur, afterwards Louis the Eighteenth, who died in the year 1824. Count 
 d'Artois, afterwards Charles the Tenth, who died in exile at Gratz, in Styria, in the yeai 
 1836. E. 
 
 •j- " Vicompte de Boniface de Rlquetti Mirabeau was brother of the famous Mirabeau, and 
 served with distinction in America. His celebrated relative said of him one day, 'In any 
 other family the Vicompte would be a good-for-nothing fellow and a genius : in ours, he is 
 a blockhead and a worthy man.' In 1789 the younger Mirabeau was deputed to the States 
 general, and defended his order with an energy equal to that with which his brother attacked 
 it. On one occasion, when he had kept possession of the tribune above an hour, the latter, 
 after the sitting was concluded, went to his house, and gently reproached him with often 
 drinking to excess, which led him into unpleasant embarrassments. ' What do you com- 
 plain of!' answered the Viscount, laughing ; ' this is the only one of all the family vices that 
 you have left me.' In 1790 the younger Mirabeau emigrated, levied a legion, and served 
 under the Prince of Conde. His singular conformation had gained him the nickname of 
 ' Hogshead ;' and indeed he was almost as big as he was tall, but his countenance was full 
 of intelligence. In the beginning of the Revolution he wrote a satire entitled the ' Magic 
 Lantern,' and left behind him a collection of tales the versification of which is sprightly and 
 graceful." — Biographic Modernc. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 227 
 
 On the same day, January 14, 1792, Guadet ascended the tribune. " Of 
 all the facts," said he, "communicated to the Assembly, that by Avhich it 
 has been most struck is the plan of a congress to be assembled for the pur- 
 pose of obtaining the modification of the French constitution — a plan long 
 suspected, and at length denounced as possible by the committees and the 
 ministers. If it be true," added Guadet, "that this intrigue is conducted 
 by men who fancy that they discover in it the means of emerging from that 
 political non-entity into Avhich they have just sunk ; if it be true that some 
 of the agents of the executive power are seconding -with all the influence 
 of their connexions this abominable plot; if it be true that they think to 
 bring us by delay and discouragement to accept this ignominious mediation — 
 ought the National Assembly to shut its eyes to such dangers ? Let us 
 swear," exclaimed the speaker, " to die all of us on this spot, rather . . . ." 
 He was not allowed to finish: the whole Assembly rose, crying, " Yes, yes, 
 we swear it ;" and with enthusiasm it declared every Frenchman Avho should 
 take part in a congress the object of which was to modify the constitution, 
 infamous and a traitor to his country. It was more especially against the 
 members of the late Constituent Assembly, and Delessart, the minister, that 
 this decree was directed. It was Delessart who was accused of protracting 
 the negotiations. On the 17th, the discussion on Gensonne's report was 
 resumed, and it was resolved that the King should not treat further, unless 
 in the name of the French nation, and that he should require of the empe- 
 ror a definite explanation before the 1st of March ensuino-. The Kinsr 
 replied that it was more than a fortnight since he had demanded positive 
 explanations from Leopold. 
 
 During this interval, news arrived that the Elector of Treves, alarmed at 
 the urgency of the French cabinet, had issued fresh orders for the dispersion 
 of the assemblages of troops, for the sale of the magazines formed in his domi- 
 nions, and for prohibiting recruiting and military exercises ; and that these 
 orders were, in fact, carried into execution. In the then prevailing disposi- 
 tion, this intelligence was coldly received. The Assembly would not regard 
 these measures in any other light than as empty demonstrations without re- 
 sult: and persisted in demanding the definitive answer of Leopold. 
 
 Dissensions existed in the ministry between Bertrand de Molleville and 
 Narbonne. Bertrand was jealous of the popularity of the minister at war, 
 and found fault with his condescension to the Assembly. Narbonne com- 
 plained of the conduct of Bertrand de Molleville and of his unconstitutional 
 sentiments, and wished that the King would dismiss him from the ministry. 
 Cahier de Gerville held the balance between them, but without success. It 
 was alleged that the constitutional party were desirous of raising Narbonne 
 to the dignity of prime minister; it would even appear that the King was 
 imposed upon, that the popularity and the ambition of Narbonne were em- 
 ployed as bugbears to frighten him, and that he was represented to him as 
 a presumptuous young man who wanted to govern the cabinet. The news- 
 papers were informed of these dissensions. Brissot and the Gironde 
 warmly defended the minister who was threatened with disgrace, and as 
 warmly attacked his colleagues and the King. A letter, written by the threo 
 generals of the north to Narbonne, in which they expressed their apprehen 
 siorkS respecting his dismissal, which was said to be near at hand, was pub 
 lished. The King, irritated at this, immediately dismissed him ; but, to 
 counteract the effect of this dismissal, he declared his determination to remove 
 Bertrand de Molleville also. The effect of the first, however, was not 
 weakened by the latter step. It excited an extraordinary sensation, and the 
 
£28 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Assembly resolved to declare, agreeably to the form previously adopted ir 
 Necker's case, that Narboiine carried with him the confidence of the nation 
 and that the entire ministry had lost it. From that condemnation, however, 
 It proposed to except Cahier de Gerville, who had always been hostile t(i 
 Bertrand de Molleville, and who had even just had a violent quarrel witli 
 nim. After much agitation, Brissot offered to prove that Delessart had be- 
 trayed the confidence of the nation. This minister had communicated to the 
 diplomatic committee his correspondence with Kaunitz. It was withom 
 dignity, and even gave Kaunitz a very unfavourable notion of the state of 
 France, and seemed to have authorized the conduct and the language of 
 Leopold. It should be observed that Delessart and his colleague, Dupont- 
 Dutertre, were the two ministers who belonged more particularly to the Feuil- 
 tans, and who were most disliked, because they were accused of favouring 
 the plan of a congress. 
 
 In one of the most stormy sittings of the Assembly, the unfortunate De- 
 lessart was accused by Brissot of having compromised the dignity of the 
 nation, of having neglected to apprize the Assembly of the concert of the 
 powers and the declaration of Pilnitz ; of having professed unconstitutional 
 doctrines in his notes : of having given Kaunitz a false notion of the state 
 of France; of having protracted the negotiation, and conducted it in a man* 
 ner contrary to the interests of the country. Vergniaud joined Brissot, anc 
 added new grievances to those imputed to Delessart. He reproached him 
 for having, when minister of the interior, kept too long in his portfolio the 
 decree which incorporated the Comtatwith France, and thus having caused 
 the massacres at Avignon.* "From this tribune from which I address you, 
 added Vergniaud, "may be seen the palace where perverse advisers mislead 
 and deceive the King whom the constitution has given us. I see the win 
 dows of the palace where they are hatching counter-revolution, where they 
 are combining the means of plunging us back into slavery. In ancient times 
 terror has often stalked forth in the name of despotism from this famous 
 palace ; let us now return thither, in the name of the law; let it there seize 
 every heart ; let all those who dv/ell in it know that our constitution grants 
 Inviolability to the King alone." 
 
 The decree of accusation was immediately put to the vote and carried 
 Delessart was sent to the high national court, established at Orleans, which 
 was empowered by the constitution to try crimes against the state. The 
 King felt the greatest pain at his departure. He had given him his confi- 
 dence, and been delighted with his moderate and pacific sentiments. Duport- 
 Dutertre, minister of the constitutional party, was also threatened with an 
 accusation, but he anticipated it, demanded permission to justify himself, 
 was absolved by the order of the day, and immediately afterwards resigned. 
 Cahier de Gerville also gave in his resignation, and thus the King found 
 nirnself deprived of the only one of his ministers who had a reputation for 
 patriotism with the Assembly. 
 
 • "On Sunday, the 30th of October, 1791, the gates were closed, the walls guarded so as 
 <o render escape impossible, and a band of assassins, commanded by the barbarous JoimJan, 
 nought out in their own houses the individuals destined for death. Sixty unhappy wretches 
 tvere speedily thrust into prison, where, during the obscurity of the night, the murderers 
 wreaked their vengeance with impunity. One young man put fourteen to death with hw 
 own hand, and only desisted from excess of fatigue! Twelve women perished, after having 
 undergone tortures which my pen cannot describe. When vengeance had done its worst, 
 the remains of the victims were torn and mutilated, and heaped up in a ditch, or thrown into 
 tJie Rhone." — Lacreielle. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 229 
 
 Separated from the ministers whom the Feuillans had given him, And not 
 knowing to whom to cling amidst this storm, Louis XVI., who had dismissed 
 Narbonne because he was too popular, thought of connecting himself with 
 the Gironde, which was republican. It is true that it was so only from dis- 
 trust of the King; and it was possible that, when he had once committed 
 himself to this party, it might attach itself to him. But it would have been 
 requisite that he should give himself up sincerely ; and that everlasting 
 question of sincerity arose here as on all other occasions. No doubt Louis 
 XVI. was sincere when he consigned himself to a party, but it was not with- 
 out ill-humour and regret. Thus, when this party imposed upon l.im a diffi- 
 cult but necessary condition, he rejected it. Distrust instantly sprang up, 
 animosity followed, and very soon a rupture was the consequence of those 
 unhappy alliances between hearts which were exclusively occupied by two 
 opposite interests. Thus it was that Louis XVI., after admitting the Feuil- 
 lant party to his presence, had, in a fit of ill-humour, dismissed Narbonne, 
 who was its most conspicuous chief, and now found lumself reduced to the 
 necessity of giving himself up to the Gironde, in order to allay the storm. 
 The example of England, where the King frequendy takes his ministers 
 from the opposition, was one of the motives of Louis XVI. The court then 
 conceived a hope — for people cannot help forming hopes, even in the most 
 gloomy conjectures, that Louis XVI., by taking incapable and ridiculous 
 demagogues, would ruin the reputation of the party from which he should 
 have selected them. This hope, however, was not realized; and the new 
 ministry was not such as the malice of the courtiers would have desired. 
 
 Above a month before this time, Delessart and Narbonne had selected a 
 man whose talents they held in high estimation, and placed him near them 
 for the purpose of availing themselves of his abilities. This was Dumouriez, 
 who, having successfully commanded in Normandy and in La Vendee, had 
 everywhere displayed extraordinary firmness and intelligence. He had first 
 offered himself to the court, and then to the Constituent Assembly, because 
 all parties were the same to him, provided he had opportunities to exercise 
 tiis activity and his superior talents. Dumouriez, kept down by the times 
 m which he lived, had spent part of his life in diplomatic intrigues. With 
 his bravery, and his military and political genius, he was still, at the age of 
 fifty, and at the commencement of the Revolution, only a brilliant military 
 adventurer. •■ He had nevertheless retained the fire and the hardihood of 
 youth, and, as soon as tliere appeared a prospect of war or a revolution, he 
 formed plans and addressed them to all the parties, ready to act for any, 
 provided he could but act. He was thus accustomed not to take any account 
 of the nature of a cause ; but though too little swayed by conviction, he was 
 generous, sensible, and capable of attachment, if not for principles, at least 
 for persons. Yet, with such a graceful, prompt, and comprehensive mind, 
 and courage alternately calm and impetuous, he was admirable for serving, 
 but incapable of directing. He had neither the dignity of a profound con- 
 
 • "The following expressions paint Dumouriez completely. 'Honour lo the patriots 
 who took the Bastille !' he exclaims in his Memoirs ; yet a few pages after, we find that 
 being at Caen, in 1789, when an insurrection was feared in Paris, he composed a memorial 
 on the bcsc means of maintaining order, and defending the Bastille!' A sister of the famoua 
 emigrant Rivarol was Dumouriez's mistress. The son of a commissary of war, known by the 
 poem of 'Richardet,' Dumouriez had been wounded during the seven years' war, and wa« 
 much engaged in the secret correspondence, a sort of diplomatic system of espiounage, of 
 which Louis XVI. had given the superintendence to the Count de Broglie." — Lafayttti^i 
 Memoirs. E. 
 
fi30 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 viction nor the pride of a despotic will, and he could command none bii 
 soldiers. If with his genius, he had possessed the passions of a Mirabeau, 
 or the resolution of a Cromwell, or merely the dogmatism of a Robespierre, 
 he might have directed the course of the Revolution, and France. 
 
 No sooner was Dumouriez connected with Narbonne, than he formed 3 
 vast military plan. He was at once for offensive and defensive war. 
 Wherever France extended to her natural limits, the Rhine, the Alps, the 
 Pyrenees, and the sea, he proposed that she should confine herself to the 
 defensive. But in the Netherlands, where our territory did not extend to 
 the Rhine, and in Savoy, where it did not extend to the Alps, he proposed 
 that we should attack immediately, and that, on reaching the natural limits, 
 we should resume the defensive. This would have been reconcihng at 
 once our interests with our principles, as it would have been profiting by a 
 war which we had not provoked, to return on the score of boundaries to 
 the genuine laws of nature. Dumouriez proposed a fourth army, destined 
 to occupy the South, and applied for the command of it, which was pro- 
 mised him. 
 
 Dumouriez had gained the good-will of Gensonne, one of the civil com- 
 missioners sent into La Vendee by the Constituent Assembly, afterwards 
 a deputy to the Legislative Assembly, and one of the most influential mem- 
 bers of the Gironde. He had remarked, moreover, that the Jacobins were 
 the predominating power. He had attended their club and read several 
 memorials which had been highly applauded, but had nevertheless kept up 
 his former intimacy with Delaporte, intendant of the civil list, and a devoted 
 friend of Louis XVI. Connected thus with the different powers which 
 were on the point of uniting, Dumouriez could not fail to carry all before 
 him and to be called to the ministry. Louis XVI. offered him the portfolio 
 of foreign affairs, which the decree of accusation against Delessart had just 
 rendered vacant; but, still attached to the accused minister, the King offered 
 it only ad interim. Dumouriez, feeling that he was powerfully supported, 
 and disliking to appear to keep the place for a Feuillant minister, refused 
 the portfolio, and obtained it without an ad interim stipulation. He found 
 only Cahier de Gerville and Degraves in the ministry. Cahierde Gerville, 
 though he had given in his resignation, had not yet relinquished duties. 
 Degraves had succeeded Narbonne. He was young, easy, and inexperienced. 
 Dumouriez contrived to gain him, and thus he held in his hands the foreign 
 relations and the military administration of the war. Nothing else would 
 have satisfied his enterprising spirit. 
 
 No sooner had he attained the ministry than Dumouriez put on the red 
 cap at the Jacobins — a new distinction borroAved from the Phrygians, and 
 which had become the emblem of liberty. He promised to govern for 
 them and by them. On being presented to Louis XVI., he pacified hira 
 respecting his conduct at the Jacobins. He removed the prejudices which 
 that conduct had excited ; he had the art to touch him by testimonies of 
 attichment, and to dispel his gloomy melancholy by his wit. He persuaded 
 him that if he sought popularity it was only for the benefit of the throne 
 and for the purpose of strengthening it. But, notwithstanding all his 
 deference, he took care to make the prince sensible that the constitution was 
 inevitable, and endeavoured to console him by striving to prove that with it 
 a King might still be very powerful. His first despatches to the powers, 
 full of sound reason and firmness, changed the nature of the negotiations, 
 and gave France quite a new attitude, but rendered war imminent. It was 
 natural that Dumouriez should desire war, since he had a genius for it, and 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 231 
 
 had meditated thirty-six years on that great art : but it must also be admitted 
 tnat the conduct of the cabinet of Vienna, and the irritation of the Asseni' 
 bly, had rendered it inevitable. 
 
 Dumouriez, from his conduct at the Jacobins and his known connexion 
 with tlie Girondc, could not, even without any hatred against the Feuillans, 
 help embroiling himself with them. Besides, lie had displaced them. He 
 was, therefore, in continual opposition to all the chiefs of that party 
 Braving the sarcasms and the conten.pt which they levelled against the 
 Jacobins and the vVssembly, he determined to pursue his career with his 
 accustomed assurance. 
 
 It was necessary to complete the ministry. Petion, Gensonne, and 
 Brissot, were consulted respecting the persons to be selected. According to 
 the law, the ministers could not be taken either from the present or from the 
 last Assembly : the choice, therefore, was extremely limited. Dumouriez, 
 proposed for the marine, Lacoste, '■ who had formerly been employed in that 
 department, an industrious and experienced man, an obstinate patriot, who 
 nevertheless was attached to the King, was esteemed by him, and remained 
 about him longer than all the others. It Avas further proposed to give the 
 ministry of justice to young Louvet, who had recently dislinguishcd himself 
 at the Jacobins, and who had won the favour of the Giromle, since he had 
 so ably supported the opinion of Brissot in favour of war. The envious 
 Robespierrct caused him to be immediately denounced. Louvet successfully 
 justified himself; but, as it was not deemed riglit to take one Avhose popu- 
 larity was contested, Duranthon,J an advocate of Bordeaux, an enlightened, 
 upright, liut weak man, was sent for. The ministry of the finances and 
 of the interior yet remained to be filled up. Tlie Gironde again proposed 
 Clavieres,§ who was known by some highly-esteemed works on finance. 
 The minister appointed to the interior was Roland, || formerly inspector of 
 
 • " Lacoste was a true jack-in-officc of the old order of thinfTs, of which he had the in- 
 Bignificant and awkward look, cold manner, and dogmatic tone. He was delicicnt both in the 
 extensive views and activity necessary for a minister." — Memoirs of Madame Roland. E. 
 
 ■[• "I once conversed," says Madame de Stael, " with Robespierre at my father's house, in 
 1789. His features were mean, his complexion pale, his veins of a greenish hue." Speaking 
 of the same demagogue, Dumont observes, *' I had twice occasion to converse with Robes- 
 pierre. Ho had a sinister expression of countenance, never looked you in the face, and had 
 a continual and unpleasant winking of the eyes." E. 
 
 t " DuranthoM was born at Massedon, in 1736. In December, 179.3, he was dragged before 
 the revolutionary tribunal, and guillotined." — " He was an honest man," says Madame Roland 
 in her Memoirs, "but very indolent; his manner indicated vanity, and his timid disposition 
 and pompous prattle made him always appear to me no better than an old woman." E. 
 
 § "Clavieres was born at Geneva, in 1735, where," says M. Dumont, "he became one of 
 the popular leaders; shrewd and penetrating, he obtained the credit of being also cunning 
 and artful ; he was a man of superior intellect ; deaf from his youth, and deprived by this 
 infirmity of the pleasures of society, he had sought a compensation in study, and formed hia 
 education, by associating politics and moral philosophy with trade. Being denounced by 
 Robespierre, to avoid the guillotine he stabbed himself in prison, June 9, 1793. His wife 
 [loisoiu-d herself on the following day." — Scott's Life of Napoleon. E. 
 
 II " J. M. Roland de la Plaliere, born at Villefranche, near Lyons, of a family distinguished 
 in the law for its integrity, was the youngest of five brothers, left orphans and without 
 fortune. In order to avoid entering into the church, like his elder brother, he left home at 
 the age of nineteen ; went lo Rouen, engaged in the direction of the manufactories, dis- 
 tinguished himself by his love of study, and his taste for commercial subjects, and obtained 
 the place of inspector-general, first at Amiens, and then at Lyons. He travelled through a 
 preat par; of Europe, and during the Revolution sided with the Girondins. He made great 
 sfforts, but in vain, to stop the September massacres. In 1793 he signed the order for the 
 King's execution, and was soon afterwards involved in the fall of his party. He however 
 
5i32 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 mam i factories, wlio had distinguislied liimself by some excellent publica 
 lions on industry and the mechanical arts. This man, with austere manners, 
 inflexible opinions, and a cold, forbidding look, yielded, without being aware 
 of it, to the superior ascendency of liis wife. Madame Roland was young 
 and beautifid. Bred in the deptlis of retirement, and imbued witli pliilo. 
 sophic and republican ideas, she had conceived notions superior to those 
 of ber sex, and liad formed a severe religion out of the then prevailing 
 principles. Living in the closest friendship with her husband, she lent him 
 her pen, communicated to liim a portion of her own vivacity, infused her 
 own ardour not only into liim but into all the Girondins, who, enthusiasts 
 for liberty and philosophy, admired her beauty and intelligence, and were 
 inlluenced by her opinions, which were in fact their own opinions.^ 
 
 The new ministry comprehended abilities great enougli for its prosperity: 
 but it behoved it not to displease Louis XVL, and to keep up its alliance 
 witli the Gironde. It might then prove adequate to its task ; but if blunders 
 of individuals were to be added to the incompatibility of the parties which 
 liad united, all would be lost — and tliis was what could not fail to happen 
 very speedily. Louis XVL, struck by the activity of his ministers, by their 
 good intentions, and by their talent for business, was for a moment delighted, 
 especially with their economical reforms; for he had always been fond of 
 that kind of improvement which required no sacrifice either of power or 
 of principle. If lie could always have felt the confidence wliich he did 
 then, and have separated himself from the hangers-on of the court, he 
 might easily have reconciled himself to the constitution. This he repeated 
 with sincerity to the ministers, and succeeded in convincing the two most 
 difficult, Roland and Clavieres. The persuasion was complete on both 
 sides. The Gironde, wliich was republican solely from distrust of the 
 King, ceased then to be so; and Vergniaud, Gensonne, and Guadet, entered 
 into correspondence with Louis XVL, which was subsequently one of the 
 
 contrived to escape to Rouen, hut, as soon as he heard of his wife's execution, he resolved 
 not to survive her ; and, having left his asylum in the evening, he went along the roaJ to 
 Paris, sat down against a tree, and stabbed himself with a sword that he had brought with 
 him in a cane. He killed himself so quietly that he did not change his attitude; and the 
 next day the people who passed by thought he was asleep. A paper was found about him 
 couched in these terms : ' Whoever you may be that find me lying here, respect my remains; 
 they are those of a man who devoted all his life to being useful, and who died as he lived, 
 virtuous and honest. Not fear but indignation has made me quit my retreat; when I learned 
 that my wife had been massacred, I would not remain any longer in a world stained with 
 crimes.' Roland was of an irascible temper, and deeply versed in the ancient and most of 
 the modern languages." — Hingraphie Moderne. E. 
 
 * "1\I. J. Philipon Madame Roland, was born at Paris in 1754. She was the daughter 
 of a distinguished engraver who had ruined his fortune by dissipation. At nine years old 
 she made an analysis of Plutarch. In 1780, she married Roland, then inspector of the 
 manufactories. In 1792, having appeared at the bar of the National Convention, to give 
 information concerning a denunciation, she spoke with remarkable grace and dignity, and 
 was admitted to the honours of tne sitting. In 1793, she was condemned to death together 
 with other of the Girondins. She went to execution with irony and disdain on her lips; 
 and on reaching the Place de la Revolution, she bowed to the statue of liberty, exclaiming, 
 * Liberty, how many crimes are committed in thy name !' She was thirty-nine years of 
 age. Without being beautiful, she had a sweet and artless countenance, and elegant figure. 
 Her large black eyes were full of expression ; her voice was musical; and her conversation 
 peculiarly attractive. Her mind was well stored with knowledge, but she was too much 
 addicted to satire." — Biographic Moderne. E. 
 
 Condorcet, alluding to Madame Roland's influence over her husband, used to say, " Wh«n 
 I wish to see the minister cf the interior, I can never get a glimpse of anytliing but tbfl 
 |»ctticoat3 of his wife." — History of the Convention. E 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 233 
 
 charges in the accusation preferred against lliem. The inflexible wife of 
 Roland Avas alone doubtful, and kept back her friends, who were too ready, 
 as she said, to surrender themselves. Tiie reason of her distrust is uatural. 
 She never saw tlie King. The ministers, on the other hand, had daily inter- 
 views willi him, and honest men, wlien they meet, soon feel satisfied with 
 one anotlier. But this confidence could not last, because inevitable ques- 
 tions were on the point of displaying the wide difference of their opinions. 
 
 The court strive to throw ridicule on the somewhat republican simplicity 
 of tiie new ministry, and on the unpolislicd rudeness of Roland, who ap- 
 peared at the palace without buckles to his shoes.* Dumouriez returned 
 lliese sarca'^ms, and, mingling mirth with tlie most serious business, pleased 
 the King, charmed him by his wit, and perliaps, too, suited him better than 
 the otiiers from the flexibility of his opinions. Tlie Queen, perceiving that 
 he !iad more influence over tlic mind of the monarch tlian any of his col- 
 Icatjues, was desirous of seeing him. He lias recorded in his memoirs this 
 extraordinary interview, which sliows the agitation of that princess, worthy 
 of another reign, other friends, and another fate. 
 
 On being ushered into the Queen's apartment, he found lier, he says, 
 alone, her face much fluslied, walking hastily to and fro, with an agitation 
 whicli seemed to betoken a warm exphmation. He was going to post him- 
 self at the corner of tlie fire-place, painfully affected at the state of this 
 princess, and the terrible scnsaiions from which she was suffering. She 
 advanced towards him with a majestic air and angry look, and said, "Sir, 
 you arc all-powerful at this moment, but it is through the favour of the peo- 
 ple, who soon break their idols in pieces. Your existence depends on your 
 conduct. It is said that you possess great abilities. You must be aware 
 that neither tlie King nor myself can endure all tliese innovations on the 
 constitution. This 1 tell you fraidcly : choose your side." 
 
 "Madam," he replied, "lam deeply pained by the secret which your 
 majesty lias just imparted to me. I will not betray it; but I stand between 
 the King and the nation, and I belong to my country. Permit me to repre- 
 sent to you that the welfare of the King, your own, and that of your august 
 children, is linked with the constitution, as Avell as the re-establishment of 
 legitimate authority. I should do you disservice and the King too, if I M'ere 
 to hold any other language. You are both surrounded by enemies who are 
 Kacriflcing you to their private interest. The constitution, when once it 
 «hall be in vigour, so far from bringing misery upon the King, will constitute 
 his happiness and his glory. It is absolutely necessary that he should con- 
 Eur in establishing it solidly and speedily." The unfortunate Queen, shocked 
 at tiiis contradiction of her opinions, raising her voice, angrily exclaimed, 
 " That will not last. Take care of yourself!" 
 
 Dumouriez rejoined with modest firmness, "Madam, I am past fifty; my 
 life has been crossed by many perils, and, in accepting the ministry, I was 
 thoroughly sensible that responsibility is not the greatest of my dangers." — 
 " Nothinof more was wanline;," she cried with deep chagrin, " but to calum- 
 
 . lit 
 
 mate me. You seem to think me capable of causing you to be murdered.^ 
 and tears trickled from her eyes. 
 
 • "The first time that Roland presented himself at the palace, he was dressed with stiiuga 
 in his shoes, and a round hat. The master of the ceremonies refused to admit him in sucn 
 an unwonted costume, not knowing who he was: being afterwards informed, and in conse- 
 quence obliged to do so, he turned to Dumouriez, and said with a sigh, ' Ah, sir, no buckle* 
 in his shoes '' — ' All is lost !' replied the minister for foreign affairs with sarcastic irony." 
 Alison. E. 
 
 VOL. I. — 30 
 
Si 3-1 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 " God preserve me," said Dumouriez, as much agitated as herself, "from 
 doing you so cruel an injury ! The character of your majesty is great and 
 noble ; you have given heroic proofs of it, which I have admired, and which 
 nave attached me to you." At this moment she became more calm and 
 drew nearer to him. He continued : " Believe me, madam, I have no inte- 
 rest in deceiving you. I abhor anarchy and crime as much as you do. 
 This is not a transient popular movement, as you seem to think. It is an 
 almost unanimous insurrection of a mighty nation against inveterate abuses. 
 Great factions fan this flame. In all of them there are villains and madmen. 
 In the Revolution I keep in view only the King and the entire nation ; all 
 that tends to part them leads to their mutual ruin ; I strive as much as pos- 
 sible to unite them ; it is for you to assist me. If I am an obstacle to your 
 designs, if you persist in them, tell me so ; I will instandy send my resig- 
 nation to the King, and hide myself in some corner, to mourn over the fate' 
 of my country and over your's." 
 
 The concluding part of this conversation entirely restored the confidence 
 of the Queen. They reviewed together the different factions ; he pointed 
 out to her the blunders and crimes of all ; he proved to her that she was be- 
 trayed by those about her; and repeated the language held by persons in 
 her most intimate confidence. The princess appeared in the end to be 
 entirely convinced, and dismissed him with a serene and affable look. She 
 was sincere ; but those around her and the horrible excesses of the papers 
 written by Marat'- and the Jacobins soon drove her back to her baneful 
 resolutions. 
 
 ' "J. P. Marat, born in T744, of Calvinist parents, was not five feet high; his face was 
 hideous, and his head monstrous for his size. From nature he derived a daring mind, an 
 ungovernable imagination, a vindictive temper, and a ferocious heart. He studied medicine 
 before he settled in Paris, where he was long in indigence. At last he obtained the situation 
 of veterinary surgeon to the Count dArtois. At the period of the Revolution, his natural 
 enthusiasm rose to delirium, and he set up a journal entitled 'The People's Friend,' in which 
 he preached up revolt, murder and pillage. In 1790 Lafayette laid siege to his house, but 
 he found an asylum in that of an actress who was induced by her husband to admit him. In 
 the different searches made after him, the cellars of his partisans, and the vaults of the Cor- 
 deliers' church successively gave him shelter, and thence he continued to send forth his jour- 
 nal. In August Marat became a member of the municipality ; was one of the chief instigators 
 of the September massacres, and even proposed to Danton to set the prisons on fire. Several 
 deputies pressed the Assembly to issue a warrant for his arrest, but they could not obtain it, 
 for Danton and Robespierre were his supporters. On one occasion Marat said to the people, 
 * Massacre 270,000 partisans of the former order of things !' Soon afterwards he was made 
 president of the Jacobin society. Marat was stabbed to the heart, while in the bath, by 
 Charlotte Corday. He had some talent ; wrote and spoke with facility, in a diffuse, incohe- 
 rent, but bold and impassioned manner. After his death, honours almost divine were paid 
 him ; and in the Place du Carrousel a sort of pyramid was raised in celebration of him, within 
 which were placed his bust, his bathing-tub, his writing-desk, and lamp ; and a sentinel was 
 posted there, who one night died either of cold or horror. Eventually, however, France 
 indignantly broke his bust, tore his remains from the Pantheon, and dragged them through 
 the mud." — Biographic Moderne. E. 
 
 The following description of Marat is full of graphic energy : " Marat's political exhorta- 
 Lons began and ended like the howl of a bloodhound for murder. If a wolf could have 
 written a journal, the gaunt and famished wretch could not have ravened more eagerly for 
 slaughter. It was blood which was Marat's constant demand ; not in drops from the breast 
 of an individual, not in puny streams from the slaughter of families ; but blood in the profusion 
 uf an ocean. We are inclined to believe that there was a touch of insanity in this unnatural 
 ferocity ; and the wild and squalid features of the wretch appear to have intimated a degrefl 
 of alienation of mind. Danton murdered to glut his rage ; Robespierre, to avenge his injured 
 vanity, or to remove a rival whom he hated ; Marat, from the same instinctive love of blood 
 which induces a wolf to continue his ravages of the flocks long after his hunger is appeased. 
 
 Sir Walter Scott, E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 235 
 
 On another occasion she said to Dumouriez, in the presences of the King, 
 ** You see me very sad. I dare not approach the window Avhich looks into 
 the garden. Yesterday evening, I went to the window towards the court 
 just to take ci Htde air; a gunner of the guard addressed me in terms of 
 vulgar abuse, adding, ' How I should like to see your head on the point of 
 my bayonet !' In this horrid garden you see on one side a man mounted on 
 a cliair, reading aloud the most abominable calumnies against us ; on the 
 other, a military man or an abbe, dragged through one of the basins, over- 
 whelmed with abuse, and beaten ; whilst others are playing at ball or quietly 
 walking about. What an abode ! What a people !"*■ 
 
 Thus, by a kind of fatality, tlie supposed intentions of the palace excited 
 the distrust and the fury of tlie people, and the uproar of tlie people in- 
 creased the anxiety and the imprudence of the palace. Despair therefore 
 reigned withip and without. But why, it may be asked, did not a candid 
 
 " None exercised a more fatal influence upon the period in which he lived than Marat. 
 He depraved the morals of the existing parties, already sufficiently lax ; and to him were 
 owing the two ideas which the committee of public safety realized at a later period — the ex- 
 termination of multitudes, and the dictatorship." — Mignel. E. 
 
 " A woman of Toulouse, who was desirous of obtaining the liberty of a relation, resolved 
 on soliciting Marat. On going to his house, she was informed that he was absent, but he 
 heard the voice of a female, and came out himself. He wore boots, but no stockings, a pair 
 of old leather breeches, white silk waistcoat, and a dirty shirt, the bosom of which was open, 
 and showed his yellow chest. Long dirty nails, skinny fingers, and a hideous face, suited 
 exactly this whimsical dress. He took the lady's hand, and, leading her into a very pleasant 
 room, furnished with blue and while damask, decorated with silk curtains, elegantly drawn 
 up in festoons, and adorned with china vases full of natural flowers, which were then scarce 
 and dear, Marat sat down beside her on a luxurious couch, heard the recital she had to make 
 him, became interested in her, kissed her hand, and promised to set her cousin free. \n con- 
 sequence he was liberated from prison within twenty-four hours." — Madame Roland's Me- 
 moirs. E. 
 
 " Givo me,'' said Marat, " two hundred Neapolitans, the knife in their right hand, in their 
 left a muff, to serve for a target, and with these I will traverse P'rance and complete the 
 Revolution. He also made an exact calculation, showing in what manner 260,000 men 
 might be put to death in one day." — Baiharnux's Memoirs. E. 
 
 * Dumouriez's Memoirs, book iii., chap. G. 
 
 Madame Campan gives a different account of the conversation with Dumouriez* 
 
 "All the parties," says she, " were bestirring themselves either to ruin the King or to save 
 him. One day, I found the Queen in extreme agitation ; she told me that she knew not 
 what to do ; that the leaders of the Jacobins had offered themselves to her through Du- 
 mouriez, or that Dumouriez, forsaking the party of the Jacobins, had come and offered him- 
 self to her ; that she had given him an audience ; that, being alone with her, he. had thrown 
 himself at her feet, and told her that he had put on the red cap, and even pulled it dowr« 
 over his ears, but that he neither was, nor ever could be, a Jacobin ; that the Revolution 
 had been suffered to roll on to that mob of disorganizers, who, aspiring only to pillage, weie 
 capable of everything, and had it in their power to furnish the Assembly with a formidable 
 army, ready to sap the remains of a throne already too much shaken. While speaking with 
 extreme warmth, he had taken hold of the Queen's hand, and kissed it with transport, saying, 
 * Allow yourself to he saved.' The Queen told me that it was impossible to believe the 
 protestations of a traitor ; that all his conduct was so well known, that the wisest plan 
 indisputably was not to trust him ; and, besides, the princes earnestly recommended that no 
 confidence should be placed in any proposal from the interior." — Tome ii., p. 202. 
 
 The account of that conversation here differs, as the reader may perceive, in some r»> 
 spects: yet the groundwork is the same. In passing through the lips of the Queen and 
 those of Madame Campan, it could not fail to acquire a colouring rather unfavourable to 
 Dumouriez. The narrative of Dumouriez describes, in a much more probable manner, tho 
 agitations of the unfortunate Marie Antoinette; and, as it contains nothing injurious to thai 
 princess, or that does not correspond with her character, I have preferred it. It is possible, 
 however, that the presumption of Dumouriez may have caused him to record in prefercnc* 
 the particulars most flattering to himself. 
 
236 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 explanation put an end to so many evils ? Why did not the palace com- 
 prehend the fears of the people ? Why did not the people comprehend the 
 afUictions of the palace ? But, why are men men ? At this last question 
 we must pause, submissively resign ourselves to human nature, and pursue 
 .)ur melancholy story, 
 
 Leopold II. was dead. The pacific dispositions of that prince were to be 
 regretted for the tranquillity of Europe, and the same moderation could not 
 be hoped for from his successor and nephew, the King of Bohemia and 
 Hungary. Gustavus, King of Sweden, had just been assassinated during 
 an entertainment.* The enemies of the Jacobins attributed this murder to 
 them ; but it was fully proved to be the crime of the nobility, humbled by 
 Gustavus in the last Swedish Revolution. Thus the nobility, who in France 
 cried out against the revolutionary fury of the people, gave in the north an 
 example of what it had formerly been itself, and of what it still was in 
 countries where civilization was least advanced. What an example for 
 Louis XVI., and what a lesson, if at the moment he could have compre- 
 hended it ! The death of Gustavus thwarted the enterprise which he had 
 meditated against France — an enterprise for which Catherine was to furnish 
 soldiers and Spain subsidies. It is doubtful, however, if the perfidious 
 Catherine would have performed her promise, and the death of Gustavus, 
 from which most important consequences were anticipated, was in reality a 
 very insignificant event.! 
 
 Delessart had been impeached on account of the feeble tone of his 
 despatches. It was not consonant either with the disposition or the interest 
 of Dumouriez to treat feebly with the powers. The last despatches appeared 
 to satisfy Louis XVI. on account of their aptness and their firmness. M, 
 de Noailles, ambassador at Vienna, and by no means a sincere servant, sent 
 his resignation to Dumouriez, saying that he had no hope of making the 
 head of the empire listen to the language that had just been dictated to him. 
 Dumouriez lost no time in communicating the circumstance to the Assem- 
 bly, which, indignant at this resignation, immediately passed a decree of 
 accusation against M. de Noailles. A new ambassador was instantly sent 
 with fresh despatches. Two days afterwards, Noailles recalled his resigna- 
 tion, and sent the categorical answer which he had required from the court 
 of Vienna. 
 
 Among all the faults committed by the powers, this note of M. de Co- 
 bentzel's is one of the most impolitic. M. de Cobentzel insisted, in the 
 nan>3 of his court, on the re-establishment of the French monarchy on the 
 basis fixed by the royal declaration of the 23d of June, 1789. This was 
 equivalent to requiring the re-establishment of the three orders, the restitu- 
 tion of the property of the clergy, and that of the Comtat-Venaissin to the 
 
 • " Gustavus III., King of SvveJen, was born in 1746, and assassinated by Aiikarstrom at a 
 masked ball at Stockholm on the night of March 15, 1792." — Encyclopxdia Americana. E. 
 
 j- Bouille, whose Memoirs I have already quoted, and whose situation enabled him to form 
 a correct judgment of the real intentions of the powers, utterly disbelieved both the zeal and 
 the sincerity of Catherine. On this subject he expresses himself as followc: 
 
 " It is obvious that this prince (Gustavus) relied much on the dispositions of the Empresa 
 of Russia, and on the active part which she was to take in the confederacy, and which waa 
 confined to demonstrations. The King of Sweden was deceived; and I doubt whether 
 Catherine would ever have entrusted him with the eighteen thousand Russians she had pro- 
 mised. I am persuaded, moreover, that the Emperor and the King of Prussia had not com- 
 municated to him either their views or their plans. They had both of them personally mora 
 than a dislike for him, and they were desirous that he should not take any active part in th« 
 affairs of France." — BouilU, p. 319. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 237 
 
 Pope. The Austrian minister moreover demanded the restoration of the 
 domains in Alsace, with all their feudal rights, to the princes of the cmjiire. 
 In order to propose such conditions, a man must have knoAvn nothing of 
 France unless through the medium of the passions of Coblentz. It was 
 demanding at once the destruction of a constitution sworn to by the King 
 and the nation, and the repeal of a decisive determination in regard to 
 Avignon. LasUy, it was imposing the necessity of bankruptcy by the 
 restitution of the possessions of the clergy already sold. Besides, wha 
 right had the emperor to claim such a submission ? What right had he to 
 interfere in our affairs ? What complaint had he to make for the princes 
 of Alsace, since their domains were enclosed by the French territory, and 
 must of course submit to the same laws as that? 
 
 The first movement of the King and Dumouriez was to hasten to the 
 Assembly and to communicate to it this note. The Assembly was indignant, 
 and justly so. The cry for war was universal. But Dumouriez did not 
 inform the Assembly that Austria, which he had threatened with a fresh 
 revolution at Liege, had sent an agent to treat with him on that subject; 
 that the language of this agent Avas totally different from that held at this 
 moment by the Austrian ministry ; and that this note was evidently the 
 effect of a sudden and suggested revolution. The Assembly annulled the 
 decree of accusation passed against Noailles, and demanded a speedy report. 
 The King could no longer recede. That fatal war was at length on the 
 point of being declared. In no case could it be favourable to his interests. 
 If victorious, the French would become more urgent and more inexorable 
 relative to the observance of the new law. If vanquished, they would find 
 fault with the government and accuse it of having feebly carried on the war. 
 
 Louis XVI. was perfectly aware of this double danger, and this resolution 
 was one of those which were most painful to him.* Dumouriez drew up 
 
 • Madame Campan acquaints us, in one and the same passage, with the construction of 
 Jhe iron chest and the existence of a secret protest made by the King against the declaration 
 of war. This apprehension of the King for the war was extraordinary, and he strove in 
 all possible ways to throw it upon the popular pavty. 
 
 "The King had a prodigious quantity of papers, and unluckily conceived the idea of 
 having a closet made very secretly in an inner corridor of his apartments, by a locksmith 
 whom he had kept at work about liim for more than ten years. But for the denunciation 
 of this man, that closet might have long remained unknown. The wall, just at the place 
 where it was made, was painted to look like large stones, and the opening was completely 
 masked in the brown grooves formed by the shaded part of these painted stones. But, before 
 this locksmith had denounced to the Assembly what has since been called the Iron Chest, 
 the Queen knew that he had talked of it to some of his friends, and that this man, in 
 whom the King, from habit, placed too great confidence, was a Jacobin. She apprized the 
 King of this, and prevailed upon him to fill a very large portfoUo with such papers as he 
 was most anxious to preserve and to commit it to my care. She begged him in my presence 
 not to leave anything in that closet; and the King, to quiet her, replied that he had lelt 
 nothing there. I would have taken up the portfolio for the purpose of carrying it to my 
 apartments; it was too heavy for me to lift. The King told me that he would carry it him 
 self: I went before to open the doors for him. When he had laid down this portfolio in my 
 innt-T cabinet, he merely said, 'The Queen will tell you what that contains.' On returning 
 to the Queen, I asked, supposing from the intimation of the King, that it was necessary for 
 mo to know. ' They are papers,' replied the Queen, ' which would be most fatal to the King, 
 if they were to go so far as to bring him to trial. But what he certainly means me to tell 
 you is, that in this portfolio there is the report of a council of state, in which the King give 
 bis oj)inion against the war. He made all the ministers sign it, and in case of a trial, he 
 ■calculates that this paper would be extremely serviceable to him.' I asked the Queen to 
 whose care she thought I ought to commit this portfolio 1 ' Put it in the care of any one 
 you please,' replied she ; ' you alone are responsible for it. Do not leave the palace, even in 
 
238 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 his report with his usual celerity, and carried it to the King, who kept it 
 three days. It became a question whether the King, obliged to take the 
 initiative with the Assembly, would urge it to declare war, or whether he 
 would content himself with consulting it on this subject, in announcing that, 
 agreeably to the injunctions given, France was in a state of war. The 
 ministers Roland and Clavieres were in favour of the former procedure. 
 The orators of the Gironde likewise supported it, and were for dictating 
 the speech from the throne. Louis XVI. felt repugnance to declare war, and 
 preferred declaring the country in a state of war. The difference was un- 
 important, yet to his mind the one w^as preferable to the other. Dumouriez, 
 whose mind was more easily made up, listened to none of the ministers ; 
 and, supported by Degraves, Lacoste, and Duranthon, caused the King's 
 opinion to be adopted. This was his first quarrel with the Gironde. The 
 King composed his speech himself, and repaired in person to the Assembly, 
 followed by all his ministers. A considerable concourse of spectators added 
 to the effect of this sitting, whicli was about to decide the fate of France 
 and of Europe. The King's features appeared careworn and indicated deep 
 thought. Dumouriez read a detailed report of the negotiations of France 
 with the Empire ; he showed that the treaty of 1756 was de facto broken, 
 and that, according to the last ultimatum, France ivas in a state of war. 
 He added that the King, having no o4,her legal medium for consulting the 
 Assembly but the formal proposal of tvar, submitted to consult it in that 
 manner. Louis XVI. then spoke with dignity but with a faltering voice.* 
 *' Gentlemen," said he, " you have just lieard the result of the negotiations 
 in which I have been engaged with the court of Vienna. The conclusions 
 of the report have been unanimously approved by my council : I have my- 
 self adopted them. They are conformable with the wish which the National 
 Assembly had several times expressed, and with the sentiments communi- 
 cated to me by a great number of citizens in different parts of the kingdom: 
 all would rather have war than see the dignity of the French people any 
 longer insulted, and the national security threatened. 
 
 *' Having previously, as it was my duty, employed all possible means to 
 maintain peace, I now come, agreeably to the terms of the constitution, to 
 propose to the National Assembly war against the King of Hungary and 
 Bohemia." 
 
 Tliis proposal was most warmly received : shouts of " Vive le RoiT'' re- 
 sounded on all sides. The Assembly answered that it would deliberate, and 
 that the King should be apprized by a message of the result of the delibera- 
 tion. A most stormy discussion immediately commenced, and continued 
 till the night was far advanced. The reasons already given pro and con 
 were here repeated ; the decree was at length passed, and war resolved upon 
 by a great majority. 
 
 " Considering," said the Assembly, " that the court of Vienna, in con- 
 tour months of rest : there are circumstances under which it may be of the utmost im- 
 portance to be able to find it at the very moment when it is wanted." — Madame Campaih 
 tome ii., p. 222, 
 
 * " I was present at the sitting in which Louis was forced to a measure which was neces- 
 sarily painful to him lor many reasons. His features were not expressive of his thoughts, 
 but it was not from dissimulation that he concealed them ; a mixture of resignation and 
 dignity repressed in him every outward sign of his sentiments. On entering the Assembly, 
 he looked to the right and left, with thut kind of vacant curiosity which is not unusual with 
 persons who are so shortsighted that their eyes seem to bo of no use to them. He proposed 
 war in the same tone of voice as he might have used in requiring the most indifferent decree 
 |KMsible." — Madame de StaeVs Memoirs. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 239 
 
 tempt of treaties, has not ceased to grant open protection to French rebels , 
 that it lias provoked and formed a concert with several powers of Europe 
 against the independence and the safety of the French nation ; 
 
 " That Francis I., King of Hungary and Bohemia,* has by his notes of 
 the 18th of March and the 7th of April last, refused to renounce this con- 
 cert; 
 
 " That, notwithstandiug the proposal made to him by the note of the 11th 
 of March, 17,92, to reduce the troops npon the frontiers, on both sides, to 
 the peace establishment, he has continued and augmented his hostile prepa- 
 rations ; 
 
 "Tliat he has formally attacked the sovereignty of the French nation, by 
 declaring liis determination to support the pretensions of the German princes 
 holding possessions in France, to whom the French naUon has not ceased 
 to offer indemnities ; 
 
 " That he lias sought to divide the French citizens and to arm them, one 
 against tlie otlier, by offering to support the malcontents in concert with the 
 other powers : 
 
 " Considering, lasdy, that the refusal to ansAver the last despatches of the 
 King of the French leaves no hope of obtaining an amicable redress of these 
 various grievances by means of an amicable negotiation, and is equivalent to 
 a declaration of war, the Assembly declares tliat it is compelled, &c., &;c." 
 
 It must be admitted that this cruel war, which for so long a period afflicted 
 Europe, was not provoked by France but by the foreign powers. France, 
 in declaring it, did no more than recognise by a decree the state in which 
 she had bceu placed. Condorcet was directed to draw up an exposition 
 of the motives of the nation. History ought to preserve this paper, an 
 admirable model of reasoning and moderation.t 
 
 * Francis I. was not yet elected emperor. 
 
 I Expiisidon of the Ma/ives which determined the National Assembly to decree, on the 
 
 forinul proposal of the Kins;, that there is reason to declare war against the King of 
 
 Hungary and Bohemia. By M. Condorcet. 
 
 (Sitting of April 20, 1703.) 
 
 Forced by the most imperative necessity to consent to war, the National Assembly is well 
 aware that it shall be accused of having wilfully accelerated or provoked it. 
 
 It knows that the insidious conduct of the court of Vienna has had no other object than to 
 give a shadow of plausibility to this imputation, which is needed by the foreign powers to 
 conceal from their people the real motives of the unjust attack prepared against France : i* 
 knows that this reproach will be repeated by the domestic enemies of our constitution and 
 our laws, in the criminal hope of robbmg the representatives of the nation of the good-will 
 of the public. 
 
 A simple exposition of their conduct is their only reply, and they address it with equal 
 confidence to foreigners and to Frenchmen, since Nature has placed the sentiments of the 
 same justice in the hearts of all mankind. 
 
 Each nation has alone the power of giving laws to itself, and the inalienable right of chang- 
 ing them. This right either belongs to none, or it belongs to all in perfect equality : to 
 attack it in one is to declare that it is not recognised in any other; to attempt to wrest it by 
 force from a foreign nation is proclaiming that a person respects it only in that of which he 
 is a citizen or the chief; it is betraying his country ; it is proclaiming himself an enemy of 
 the human race. The French nation could not but conceive that truths so simple would ti« 
 felt by all princes, and that, in the eighteenth century, no one would dare to oppose to them 
 the old maxims of tyranny: its hope has been disappointed; a league has been formed 
 against its independence, and it has had no other choice left but to enlighten its enemies 
 respecting the justice of its cause, or to oppose to them the force of arms. 
 
 Informed of this threatening league, but anxious to preserve peace, the National Assembly 
 at first inquired what was the object of this concert between powers which had so long beeu 
 rivals, and it received for answer that ita motive was the maintenance of the general tranquil 
 
240 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 The war occasioned general joy. The patriots beheld in it the end of 
 those apprehensions which they felt on account of the emigration and the 
 
 lity, the safety and honour of crowns, the fear of witnessing the recurrence of the eventa 
 which some of the epochs of the French Kevolution have presented. 
 
 But how should France threaten the general tranquillity, since she has taken the solemn 
 resolution not to attempt any conquest, not to attack the liberty of any nation; since, amidst 
 that long and sanguinary struggle which has arisen in the territory of the Liege, in the 
 Netherlands, between Ihe government and the citizens, it has maintained the strictest neu- 
 trality 1 
 
 It is true that the French nation has loudly declared that the sovereignty belongs exclu. 
 sdvely to the people, which, limited in the exercise of its supreme will by the rights of pos- 
 terity, cannot delegate irrevocable power; it is true that it has loudly acknowledged that no 
 usage, no express law, no consent, no convention, can subject a society of men to an authority 
 which they would not have the right of resuming : but what idea would princes form of the 
 legitimacy of their power, or of the justice with which they exercise it, if they were to 
 consider the enunciation of these maxims as an enterprise against the tranquillity of their 
 dominions ! 
 
 Will they allege that this tranquillity might be disturbed by the writings, by the speeches, 
 of a few Frenchmen 1 This, then, would be requiring, by main force, a law against the 
 liberty of the press; it would be declaring war against the progress of reason; and when it is 
 known that the French nation has everywhere been insulted with impunity, that the presses 
 )f the neighbouring countries have never ceased inundating our departments with works 
 designed to stir up treason, to excite rebellion ; when it is recollected what marks of patronage 
 and interest have been lavished on the authors, will any one believe that a sincere love of 
 peace, and not hatred of liberty, has dictated these hypocritical reproaches! 
 
 Much has been said of attempts made by the French to rouse the neighbouring nations 
 to break their fetters, to claim their rights. But the very ministers who have repeated these 
 imputations, without daring to adduce a single fact in support of them, well knew how 
 chimerical they were ; and had even these attempts been real, the powers which have allowed 
 assemblages of our emigrants, which have given them assistance, which have received their 
 ambassadors, which have publicly admitted them into their conferences, which are not 
 ashamed to incite Frenchmen to civil war, would have retained no right of complaining; 
 otherwise it must be admitted that it is allowable to extend slavery, and criminal to propa- 
 gate liberty; that every thing is lawful against nations; that kings alone possess genuine 
 rights. Never would the pride of the throne have more audaciously insulted the majesty of 
 nations ! 
 
 The French people, at liberty to fix the form of its constitution, could not, by making use 
 of this power, endanger the safety or the honour of foreign crowns. Would then, the chiefs 
 of other countries class among their prerogatives the right of obliging the French nation to 
 confer on the head of its government a power equal to that which they themselves exercise 
 in their dominions ! Would they, because they have subjects, forbid the existence elsewhere 
 of freemen 1 Can they help perceiving that, in permitting every thing for what they term 
 the safety of crowns, they declare legitimate whatever a nation can undertake in favour of 
 the liberty of other nations'? 
 
 If acts of violence, if crimes, have accompanied some of the epochs of the French Revolu- 
 tion, to the depositories of the national will alone belonged the power of punishing or bury- 
 ing them in oblivion: every citizen, every magistrate, be his title what it may, ought not to 
 demand justice but of the laws of his country — ought not to expect it but from them. 
 Foreign powers, so long as their subjects have not suffered from these events, cannot have a 
 just motive either for complaining of them, or for taking hostile measures to prevent their 
 recurrence. Kindred, personal alliances between kings, are nothing to the nations : whether 
 enslaved or free, common interests unite them : Nature has placed their happiness in peace, 
 in the mutual aids of a kindly fraternity; she would be indignant if one would dare to put 
 in the same balance the fate of twenty millions of men and the affections or the pride of a 
 few individuals. Are we then doomed still to behold the voluntary servitude of nations 
 encircling the altars of the false gods of the earth with human victims ? 
 
 Thus these alleged motives of a league against France were but a fresh outrage against 
 her independence. She had a tight to require a renunciation of the injurious preparations, 
 and to consider a refusal as an act of hostility : such have been the principles that have 
 guided the conduct of the National Assembly. It has continued to desire peace; but it 
 tfAuld not help preferring war to a patience dangerous for liberty ; it could not help per- 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 241 
 
 wavering conduct of the King. The moderates, alarmed by divisions, 
 hoped that tlie common danger would put an end to them, and that the fields 
 
 ceivinc: that changes in the constitution, that violation of the equality which is the basis of 
 it, were the sole ain^i of the enemies of France; that they wished to punish her fcir having 
 recognised in ihcir full extent the fights common to all mankind; and then it took that oath, 
 repeated by ail Frenchmen, to perish rather than sulTer the slightest attack either upon the 
 liberty of the citizens, or upon the sovereignty of the people; or, above all, upon that 
 equality vviihout which there exists for societies neither justice nor happiness. 
 
 Would they reproach the French with not h;iving sufhciently respected the rights of other 
 nations, in oH'ering only pecuniary indemnities either to the German princes holding pos- 
 sessions in Alsace, or to the Pope 1 
 
 Treaties had acknowledged the sovereignty of France over Alsace, and it had been 
 peaceably exercised there for upwards of a century. The rights which these treaties had 
 reserved were but privileges; tiie meaning of this reserve therefore was, that the possessors 
 of fiefs in Alsace shouKI retain them, with their old prerogatives, so long as the general laws 
 of France admitted of the dilTerent forms of feudalism; that reserve signified abo that, if the 
 feudal prerogatives were involved in one general ruin, the nation ought to indemnify the 
 possessors for the real advantages resulting from it: for this is all that the right of property 
 can demand, when it happens to be in o[i[iosition to the law, in contradiction to the public 
 interest. The citizens of Alsace are Frenchmen, and the nation cannot without disgrace and 
 without injustice sufler them to be deprived of the smallest portion of the rights common to 
 all those whom this name ought alike to protect. Shall it be urged that, in oidcr to indem- 
 nify these princes, we can relinquish to them a portion of our territory T No: a generous 
 and free nation does not sell men; it does not doom to slavery; it does not give up to mas- 
 ters, those whom it has once admitted to share its liberty. 
 
 The citizens of the Comtats had a right to give themselves a constitution ; they might have 
 declared themselves independent; they preferred being Frenchmen, and after adopting, 
 France will not forsake them. Had she refused to accede to their desire, their country is 
 encompassed by hor territory, and she could not have permitted their oppressors to pass through 
 aland of liberty in order to punish men for having dared to muke themselves independent 
 and to resume their rights. What the Pope possessed in this country was the salary of the 
 functions of the government; the peo[ile, in taking from him these functions, have exercised 
 a power which long servitude had suspended, but of which it could not deprive them; and 
 the indemnity ofiered by France was not even required by justice. 
 
 Thus it is again violations of the right of nature that they dare to demand in the name of 
 the Pope and the possessors of fiefs in Alsace! It is again for the pretensions of a few 
 individuals that they would spill the blood of nations! And if the ministers of the house of 
 Austria had resolved to declare war against reason in the name of prejudices, against nations 
 in the name of kings, they could not have held any other language. 
 
 It has been asserted that the vow of the French people for the maintenance of its equality 
 and its independence was the vow of a faction. But the French nation has a constitution; 
 that constitution has been recognised, adopted by the generality of the citizens ; it cannot be 
 changed but by the desire of the people, and according to the forms which it has itself pre- 
 scribed : whilst it subsists the powers established by it have alone the right of manifesting the 
 national will, and it is by them that this will has been declared to the foreign powers. It 
 was the King who, on the application of the National Assembly, and exercising the functions 
 which the constitution confers on him, complained of the protection granted to the emigrants, 
 and insisted to no purpose that it should be withdrawn; it was he who solicited explana- 
 tions concerning the league formed against France ; it was he who required that this league 
 should be dissolved ; and assuredly we have a right to be surprised to hear the solemn wish 
 of the people, publicly expressed l)y its lawful representatives, proclaimed as the cry of a few 
 factious men. W^hat title equally respectable could then those kings invoke, who force 
 misled nations to fight against the interests of their own liberty, and to take arms against 
 rights which are also their own, to stifle beneath the ruins of the French constitution the 
 germs of their own felicity and the general hopes of mankind ! 
 
 And, besides, what sort of a faction is it that could be accused of having c.-nspirea tne 
 universal liberty of mankind 1 It is then the entire human race that enslaved ministers daro 
 to brand with this odious name. 
 
 But, say they, the King of the French is not free. What! is to be dependent on the 
 laws of one's country not to be free. The liberty of thwarting them, of withdrawing oneself 
 from them, of opposing to them a foreign force, would not be a right, but a crime. 
 
 VOL. I. — 31 
 
24,2 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 of battle would absorb all the turbulent spirits generated by the Revolution. 
 Some Feuillans alone, glad to find faults in the Assembly, reproached n 
 with having violated tlie constitution, according to which, France ought 
 never to be in a state of aggression. It is but too evident that here France 
 was not the assailant. Thus, war was the general wish of all excepting 
 the King and a few discontented persons. 
 
 Lafayette prepared to serve his country bravely in this new career. It 
 was he who was more particularly charged with the execution of the plan 
 conceived by Dumouriez and apparently ordered by Degraves. Dumouriez 
 had justly flattered himself, and given all the patriots reason to hope, 
 that the invasion of the Netherlands would be an easy task. That country, 
 recently agitated by a revolution, which Austria had suppressed, might 
 naturally be expected to be disposed to rise on the first appearance of the 
 
 Thus, in rejecting all these insidious propositions, in despising these indecent declamatims, 
 the National Assembly had shown itself, in all the foreign relations, equally friendly to 
 peace, and jealous of the liberty of the people ; thus the continuance of a hostile tolerance 
 for the emigrants, the open violation of the promises to disperse their assemblages, the 
 refusal to renounce a line evidently ofTensive, the injurious motives of this refusal, which 
 indicated a desire to destroy the French constitution, were sufficient to authorize hostilities, 
 which would never have been any other than acts of lawful defence ; for it is not attacking, 
 not to give our enemy time to exhaust our resources in long preparations, to spread all his 
 snares, to collect all his forces, to strengthen his first alliances, to seek fresh ones, to form 
 connexions in the midst of us, to multiply plots and conspiracies in our provinces. Does he 
 deserve the name of aggressor, who, when threatened, provoked, by an unjust and perfidious 
 foe, deprives him of the advantage of striking the first blows? Thus, so far from seeking 
 war, the National Assembly has done every thing to prevent it. In demanding new 
 explanations respecting intentions which could not be doubtful, it has shown that it renounced 
 with pain the hope of a return to justice, and that, if the pride of kings is prodigal of the 
 blood of their subjects, the humanity of the representatives of a free nation is sparing even 
 of the blood of its enemies. Insensible to all provocations, to all insults, to the contempt 
 of old engagements, to violations of new promises, to the shameful dissimulation of the plots 
 hatched against France, to that perfidious condescension under which were disguised the 
 succours, the encouragements, lavished on the French who have betrayed their country, it 
 would still have accepted peace, if that which was offered had been compatible with the 
 maintenance of the constitution, with the independence of the national sovereignty, with tho 
 safety of the state. 
 
 But the veil which concealed the intentions of our enemy is at length torn. Citizens, 
 which of you could, in fact, subscribe to these ignominious proposals? Feudal servitude, 
 and an humiliating inequality, bankruptcy, and taxes which you alone would pay, tithes and 
 the inquisition, your possessions bought upon the public faith restored to their former 
 usurpers, the beasts of the chase re-established in the right of ravaging your fields, your blood 
 profusely spilt for the ambitious projects of a hostile house, — such are the conditions of the 
 treaty between the King of Hungary and perfidious Frenchmen! 
 
 Such is the peace which is offered to you ! No ; never will you accept it. The cowards 
 are at Coblcntz, and France no longer harbours in her bosom any but men worthy of 
 liberty. 
 
 He proclaims in his own name, in the name of his allies, the plan of requiring of the 
 French nation the relinquishment of its rights; he declares that he shall demand of it sacri- 
 fices which nothing but the fear of destruction could wring from it. Let him; but never 
 will it submit to them. This insulting pride, so far from intimidating it, will only rouse its 
 courage. It takes tim*; to discipline the slaves of despotism, but every man is a soldier when 
 he combats tyranny ; money will start forth from its dark retreats at the cry of the country 
 in danger; those ambitious wretches, those slaves of corruption and intrigue, those base 
 calumniators of the people, from whom our foes dared promise themselves ignominious 
 succours, will lose the support of the blind or pusillanimous citizens whom they had deluded 
 by their hypocritical declamations; and the French empire, throughout its wide extent, will 
 display to our enemies but one universal determination to conquer or utterly perish with the 
 constitution and the laws. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 243 
 
 Frencli, and then would be falfllled the warning of the Assembly to the 
 sovereigns — " If you send us war, we will send you back liberty." It was, 
 moreover, the execution of the plan conceived by Dumouriez, which con- 
 eisted in extending the French territory to its natural frontiers. 
 
 Rochambeau commanded the army close to the scene of action, but he 
 could not be charged with this operation on accoifnt of his peevish and dis- 
 contented disposition, and more especially because he was less fitted than 
 Lafayette for an invasion half military, half popular. It was wished that 
 Lafayette might have the general command, but Dumouriez refused to com- 
 ply, no doubt from ill-will. He alleged, as a reason, that it was impossible, 
 in the presence of a marshal, to give the chief command of that expedition 
 to a mere general. He said, moreover, and this reason was not quite so 
 bad, that Lafayette was suspected by the Jacobins and by the Assembly. It 
 is certain that, young, active, the only one of all the generals who was be- 
 loved by his army, Lafayette was a terror to overheated imaginations, and 
 furnished occasion, by his influence, to the calumnies of the malignant. Be 
 this as it may, he cheerfully offered to execute the plan of the ministry, at 
 once diplomatic and military : he demanded fifty tliousand men, with whom 
 he proposed to push forward by Namur and the Meuse to Liege, the posses- 
 sion of which would make him master of the Netherlands. 
 
 This plan Avas judicious, and it was approved by Dumouriez. War had 
 been declared only a few days. Austria liad not time to cover her posses- 
 sions in the Netherlands, and success appeared certain. Accordingly, La- 
 fayette was ordered at first to advance with ten thousand men from Givet to 
 Namur, and from Namur to Liege or Brussels. He was to be followed 
 immediately by his whole army. While he was executing this movement, 
 Lieutenant-general Biron was to set out from Valenciennes with ten thou- 
 sand men, and to march upon Mons. Another ofTicer had orders to proceed 
 to Tournay, and to take possession of it immediately. These movements, 
 conducted by officers of Rochambeau's, were intended to support and mask 
 the real attack committed to Lafayette. 
 
 The orders given to this eflfect were to be executed between the 20th of 
 April and the 2d of May. Biron commenced his march, left Valenciennes, 
 made himself master of Quievrain, and found a few hostile detachments 
 near Mons. All at once, two regiments of dragoons, though not in presence 
 of the enemy, cried out, "We are betrayed!" betook themselves to flight, 
 and were followed by the whole army. In vain the officers strove to stop 
 the fugitives ; they threatened to shoot them, and continued their flight. 
 The camp was given up, and all the military effects fell into the hands of the 
 Imperialists. 
 
 While this event was occurring at Mons, Theobald Dillon left Lille, ac- 
 cording to a preconcerted plan, with two thousand infantry and a thousand 
 horse. In the very same hour that Biron's disaster happened, the cavalry, 
 at the sight of some Austrian troops, gave way, crying out that it was be- 
 trayed. It hurried the infantry along with it, and again the whole of the 
 baggage was abandoned to the enemy. Theobald Dillon and an ofhcer of 
 engineers, named Berthois, were murdered by the soldiers and the populace 
 of Lille, who insisted that they were traitors. 
 
 Meanwhile Lafayette, apprized too late of these circumstances, had pro 
 ceeded from Metz to Givet, after encountering extreme difficulties, and by 
 roads that were scarcely passable. Nothing but the ardour of his troops 
 enabled him to perform, in so short a time, the considerable distance which 
 
244 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 he had traversed. There, learning- the disasters of Rochambeau's officers 
 he thought it right to halt. 
 
 This intelligence produced a general agitation. It was natural to suppose 
 that these two events had been concerted, judging from their coincidence and 
 their simultaneous occurrence. All the parties accused one another. The 
 Jacobins and the furious patriots insisted that there was a design to betray 
 the cause of liberty. Dumouriez, not accusing Lafayette, but suspecting 
 the Feuillans, conceived that there had been a scheme to thwart his plan, ia 
 order to make him unpopular. Lafayette complained, but less bitterly than 
 his party, that he had been directed too late to commence his march, and 
 that he had not been furnished with all the means necessary for accompHsh- 
 mg it. The Feuillans, moreover, reported that Dumouriez had designed 
 to ruin Rochambeau and Lafayette by chalking out a plan for them, without 
 giving them the means of executing it. Such an intention was not to be 
 supposed ; for Dumouriez, in stepping beyond the duty of minister for 
 foreign affairs in order to form a plan of campaign, incurred a grievous risk 
 in case of its failure. Besides, the project of gaining- Belgium for France 
 and liberty formed part of a plan which he had long meditated ; how then 
 could it be imagined that he wished to make it miscarry? It was evident 
 that in this case neither the minister nor the generals could be insincere, 
 because they were all interested in succeeding. But parties always put per- 
 sons in the place of circumstances, that they may throw upon some one the 
 blame of the disasters which befal them. 
 
 Degraves, alarmed at the tumult excited by the recent military events, 
 determined to resign an office which had long been too arduous for him, and 
 Dumouriez was wrong in not undertaking it. Louis XVI., still under the 
 sway of the Gironde, gave that department to Servan, an old soldier, known 
 for his patriotic opinions.'" This choice gave increased strength to the 
 Gironde, which found itself almost in a majority in the council, having 
 Servan, Clavieres, and Roland, at its disposal. From that moment, discord 
 began to prevail among the ministers. The Gironde daily became more 
 distrustful, and consequently more urgent for demonstrations of sincerity on 
 the part of Louis XVI. Dumouriez, who was but little guided by opinions, 
 and who was touched by the confidence of the King, always took his part. 
 Lacoste, who was strongly attached to the prince, did the same. Duranthon 
 was neuter, and had no preference but for the weakest parties. Servan, 
 Clavieres, and Roland, were inflexible. Filled with the fears of their friends, 
 they daily showed themselves more impracticable and inexorable at the 
 council. 
 
 Another circumstance completed the nipture between Dumouriez and the 
 principal members of the Gironde. Dumouriez, on accepting the ministry 
 for foreign affairs, had demanded six millions for secret services, and insisted 
 that he should not be called upon to account for the expenditure of that sum. 
 The Feuillans had opposed this, but, through the influence of the Gironde, 
 his demand proved triumphant, and the six millions were granted. Petion 
 had applied for funds for the police of Paris ; Dumouriez had allowed him 
 thirty thousand francs per month ; but, ceasing to be a Girondin, he permit- 
 ted only one payment to be made. On the other hand, it was learnt or sus- 
 pected that he had just spent One hundred thousand francs upon his pleasures 
 
 * "Servan was born at Romano in 1741, and diej at Paris in 1808. * He was,* sayJ 
 Madame Roland, an honest man in the fullest signification of the term; an enlighteneJ 
 patriot, a brave soldier, and an active minister; he stood in need of nothing but a more sober 
 imagination, and a more flexible mind.' " — Scott's Life of Napoleon. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 245 
 
 Roland, around whom rallied the Gironde, was, with all his friends, highly 
 indignant at this circumstance. The ministers dined with one another by 
 turns, for the purpose of conversing on public affairs. When they met at the 
 house of Roland, it was in the presence of his wife and all his friends ; and 
 we may say that the council was then held by the Gironde itself. It was at 
 such a meeting that remonstrances were made to Dumouriez on the nature 
 of his secret expenses. At first he replied with gaiety and good humour, 
 afterwards lost his temper, and quarrelled decidedly witli Roland and the 
 Girondins. He ceased to attend at these accustomed parties, and alleged as 
 his reason that he would not talk of public affairs either before a woman or 
 before Roland's friends. He nevertheless went occasionally to Roland's, 
 but eidier said very little, or nothing at all, concerning business. Another 
 discussion widened still further the breach between him and the Girondins. 
 Guadet, the most petulant of his party, read a letter, proposing that the mi- 
 nisters should induce the King to choose for his spiritual director a priest 
 who had taken the oath. Dumouriez maintained that the ministers could 
 not interfere in the religious exercises of the King. He was supported, it 
 is true, by Vcrgniaud and Gensonne ; but the quarrel was not the less vio- 
 lent, and a rupture became inevitable. 
 
 The newspapers commenced the attack upon Dumouriez. The Feuillans, 
 who were already leagued against liim, then found themselves aided by the 
 Jacobins and the Girondins. Dumouriez, assailed on all sides, firmly con- 
 fronted the storm, and caused severe measures to be taken against some of 
 the journalists. 
 
 A decree of accusation had already been directed against Marat, author 
 of the Ami du Peuple ; an atrocious work, in which lie openly advocated 
 murder, and lieaped the most audacious insults on the royal family, and on 
 all Avho were objects of suspicion to his frenzied imagination. To coun- 
 terbalance the effect of this measure, a decree of accusation was obtained 
 against Royou, Avho was the author of the Ami du lioi, and who inveiglied 
 against the republicans Avith tlie same violence that IMarat displayed against 
 the royalists. 
 
 For a long time past a great deal had been said concerning an Austrian 
 committee. The patriots talked of it in the city, as the Orleans faction was 
 talked of at court. To this committee a secret and miscliievous influence 
 was attributed, which was exercised through the medium of tlie Queen. If 
 anything resembling an Austrian committee had existed in the time of the 
 Constituent Assembly, tberc was nothing of the kind under the Legislative. 
 At the former period an illustrious personage, who held an appointment in 
 the Nctherlantls, communicated to tlie Queen, in the name of her family, 
 some very prudent advice, which was still more prudently commented upon 
 by the French intermediate agent. But under the Legislative Assembly 
 these private communications had ceased ; the Queen's family had continued 
 its correspondence with her, but never omitted to recommend patience and 
 resignation to her. It is true that Bertrand de MoUeville and Montrnorin 
 still paid visits to the palace after their removal from the ministry. It was 
 against them that all suspicions were directed, and they were, in fact, the 
 agents of all the secret commissions. They Avere publicly accused by 
 Carra, the journalist. Determined to prosecute him as a calumniator, they 
 summoned him to produce documents in support of his denunciation. The 
 journalist backed himself by three deputies, and named Chabot, Merlin, and 
 Bazire, as tlie authors of the particulars which he had published. Lariviere, 
 justice of the peace, who was devoted to the cause of the King, prosecuted 
 
246 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 this affair with great courage, and had the boldii'Dss to issue a summoua 
 against the three above-mentioned deputies. The Assembly, indignant at thi.. 
 attack on the inviolabihty of its members, replied to the justice of peace by 
 a decree of accusation, and sent the unfortunate Lariviere to Orleans.* 
 
 This unlucky attempt served only to increase the general agitation, and 
 the hatred which prevailed against the court. The Gironde no longer con- 
 sidered itself as guiding Louis XVI., since Dumouriez had established hi3 
 influence over him, and it had resumed its part of violent opposition. 
 
 The new constitutional guard of the King had been recently formed. 
 Agreeably to the law, the civil establishment ought also to have been com- 
 posed ; but the nobility would not enter into it, that they might not recoo-. 
 nise the constitution by filling posts which it had created. On the other 
 hand, there was a determination not to compose it of new men, and it was 
 abandoned. " How will you, madam," wrote Barnave to the Queen, "con- 
 tinue to raise the least doubt in those people concerning your sentiments ? 
 When they decree you a military and a civil establishment, like youno' 
 Achilles among the daughters of Lycomedes, you eagerly grasp the sword 
 and put away mere ornaments. "t The ministers, and Bertrand himself, 
 remonstrated on their part to the same purpose as Barnave, but they could 
 not cany their point, and the composition of the civil establishment was 
 abandoned. 
 
 The military establishment, formed agreeably to a plan proposed by De- 
 lessart, had been composed, one-third of troops of the line, and two-thirds 
 of young citizens selected from the national guards. This composition 
 could not but appear satisfactory. • But the officers and the soldiers of the line 
 had been chosen in such a manner as to alarm the patriots. Combined 
 against the young men taken from the national guards, they had rendered 
 the situation of the latter so disagreeable, that most of them had been obliged 
 to retire. The vacancies had soon been filled up by trusty men ; the num- 
 ber of this guard had been singidarly increased ; and, instead of eighteen 
 hundred men, fixed by the law, the number had been swelled, it is said, to 
 nearly six thousand. Dumouriez had apprized the King of this circum- 
 stance, and he always replied that the old Duke de Brissac, who commanded 
 these troops, could not be regarded as a conspirator. 
 
 Meanwhde, the conduct of the new g^.iard at the palace and at other place8 
 
 • " For several days past the journalists had been endeavouiing to raise the people by 
 violent declamations about plots asserted to be carried on by an Austrian committee. On 
 the Sunday before, two orators had been taken up in the Palais Royal for haranguing against 
 this committee, and, on examination, they were found to carry the marks of the whip and 
 branding iron on their shoulders : patents of their association with the Jacobin club were 
 found at the same time in their pockets. Possessed of the above facts, I went to confer with 
 M. de Montmorin, when I was informed that Carra had the day before denounced the Aus- 
 trian committee in the Jacobin club ; and that both Montmorin and myself were pointed out 
 as its principal members. On learning this, I carried my complaint before Lariviere, ^u^erfe 
 paix — an intelligent, well-disposed man — who ordered the case to be brought before him, 
 and witnesses to be heard, after which he issued a decree that Carra should appear before 
 him. He presented himself accordingly, and declared in his own defence that he had been 
 authorized by Merlin, Bazire, and Chabot, members of the committee of public safety, to 
 oring forward the accusation against Messrs. de Montmorin and Bertrand. In consequence 
 of this, we jointly gave in our accusation against these three members, who were arrested by 
 order of Lariviere, a proceeding which drew down on him the wrath of the Assembly; thfl 
 affair was then sifted to the bottom, and, from that time forward, no journalist or motion* 
 maker ventured to mention the Austrian committee." — Memoirs of Bertrand de Mou6- 
 ville, E. 
 
 f Memoires de Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 154. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION 247 
 
 Was such, that suspicions were expressed in all quarters, and the clubs took 
 up the sul)jcct. At the same period, twelve Swiss hoisted the white cockade 
 at Neuilly ; a considerable quantity of paper was burned at Sevres,* and 
 tliese proceedings gave rise to serious suspicions. The alarm then became 
 general; the Assembly declaied itself permanent, as though it was still the 
 time when ihirty thousand men threatened Paris. It is true, however, that 
 the disturbances were general; U.ai the nonjuring priests were exciting the 
 people in the southern provinces, and abusing the secrecy of confession to 
 kindle fanaticism; that the concert of the powers was manifest; that Prus- 
 sia was on the point of joining Austria; tliat the foreign armies became 
 threatening, and that the recent disasters of Lille and Mons was the general 
 topic of conversation. It is, moreover, true that the power of the people 
 excites little confidence, that it is never believed till it has been exercised, 
 and tluit an irregular multitude, how numerous soever it may be, cannot 
 counterbidance the force of six thousand men, armed and disciplined. 
 
 The Assembly therefore lost no time in declaring itself permanent, and it 
 caused an accurate report to be drawn up respecting the composition of the 
 King's military establishment, and the number, choice, and conduct of those 
 who composed it. After deciding that the constitution had been violated, it 
 
 * Madame Campan explains in the following manner the secret of the paper burned at 
 Sevres : 
 
 " In the beginning of 1792, a very worthy priest requested a private interview with me. 
 He informed me that the arrival of the manuscript of a new libel by Madame Lamotte had 
 come to his knowledge ; that in the persons who had come from London to get it printed 
 at Paris he perceived no other incentive but gain, and that they were ready to give up the 
 manuscript to him for a thousand louis, if he could find some friend of the Queen disposed 
 to make that sacrifice to her tranquillity ; that he had thought of me, and that, if her ma- 
 jesty would give him the twenty-four thousand francs, he would deliver the manuscript to 
 me on receiving them. 
 
 " I communicated this proposal to the Queen, who rejected it, and ordered me to reply 
 that, at the time when it was possible to punish the publishers of these libels, she had deemed 
 them so atrocious and so improbable, that she had disdained the means of preventing their 
 circulation; that, if she were to be weak and imprudent enough to buy a single one, the 
 active espionage of the Jacobins would be likely to discover it ; that this libel, though bought 
 up, would still be printed, and would prove infinitely more mischievous when they should 
 acquaint the public with the means which she had employed to suppress it. 
 
 " Baron d'Aubier, gentleman in waiting on the King, and my particular friend, had an 
 excellent memory, and a clear and precise manner for transmitting to me the substance of 
 the deliberations, debates, and decrees of the National Assembly, I went every day to the 
 Queen's apartments, to make my report on the subject to the King, who said, on seeing me, 
 ' Ah ! here comes the Calais postilion.' 
 
 •' One day, M. d'Aubier came and said to me, ' The Assembly has been much engaged 
 with a denunciation made by the workmen in the manufactory of Sevres, They brought 
 and laid upon the president's desk a bundle of pamphlets, saying that they were the Life of 
 Marie Antoinette. The director of the manufactory was summoned to the bar, and declared 
 that he had received orders to burn these pamphlets in the ovens employed for baking the 
 porcelain.' 
 
 " Whilst I was giving this account to the Queen, the King blushed and hung down his 
 head over his plate. The Queen said, ' Do you know anything of this, sir !' The King 
 made no answer. Madame Elizabeth begged him to explain the meaning of this ; still ho 
 kept silence. I quickly withdrew. In a few minutes, the Queen came to me, and told me 
 that it was the King who, out of tenderness for her, had caused the whole edition printed 
 from the manuscript which I had offered to her to be bought up, and that M. de Laporte 
 could not devise any more secret way of annihilating the work than to cause it to be burnt 
 at Sevres among two hundred workmen, of whom at least one hundred and eighty were 
 Jacobins. She told me that she hid concealed her vexation from the King, who was exceed- 
 ingly mortified, and that she could not say anything, as his kindness and affection for her 
 had occasioned this accident" — Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 196. 
 
^**^ HISTORY OF THE 
 
 issued a decree for disbanding the guard, and another of accusation ao-ainsi 
 the Duke de Brissac, and sent both these decrees for the royal sanction. 
 The King was disposed at first to affix his veto. Dumoiiriez reminded hini 
 of the dismissal of his life-guards, who had been much longer in his service 
 than his new military household, and exhorted him to make this second and 
 much less difficult sacrifice. He recapitulated, besides, the positive faults 
 committed by his guard, and obtained the execution of the decree. But he 
 immediately insisted on its recomposition ; and the King, either returninff 
 to his former policy of appearing to be oppressed, or relying upon this dis 
 banded guard, whose pay he secretly continued, refused to replace it, and 
 was thus exposed, without protection, to the popular fury. 
 
 The Gironde, despairing of the King's sincerity, followed up its attack 
 with perseverance. It had already issued a new decree against the priests, 
 instead of that which the King had refused to sanction. As reports of their 
 factious conduct were continually arriving, it pronounced the sentence of 
 banishment upon theiri The designation of the culprits was difficult; and 
 as this measure, like all those of safety, rested upon suspicion, it was accord- 
 ing to their notoriety that the priests were judged and banished. On the 
 denunciation of twenty active citizens, and with the approbation of the direc« 
 tory of tlie district, the directory of the department pronounced sentence. 
 The condemned priest was obliged to leave the canton in twenty-four hours, 
 the department in three days, and the kingdom in a month. If he was 
 indigent, three livres a day were granted him till he reached the frontiers. 
 
 This severe law proved the increasing irritation of the Assembly. It was 
 immediately followed by another. Servan, the minister, without having 
 received any orders from the King, or consulting his colleagues, proposed 
 that, on the approaching anniversary of the Federation of the 14th of July, 
 there should be formed a camp of twenty thousand federalists, destined to » 
 protect the Assembly and the capital. It may easily be conceived witli 
 what entliusiasm this plan was hailed by the majority of the Assembly, con- 
 sisting of Girondins. At this moment the power of the latter was at its 
 height. They governed the Assembly, where the constitutionalists and the 
 republicans were in a minority, and where those who called themselves im- 
 partial were, as at all times, but indifferent persons, ever more complying 
 the more powerful the majority became. Moreover, they had Paris at their 
 beck, through Petion, the mayor, who Avas wholly devoted to them. Their 
 plan was, by means of the proposed camp, without personal ambition, but 
 from ambition of party and of opinion, to make themselves masters of the 
 King, and to forestall his suspicious intentions. 
 
 No sooner was Servan's proposal known, than Dumouriez asked him, in 
 full council, cind with the strongest emphasis, in what character he had made 
 such a proposition. He replied, that it was in the character of a private 
 individual. "In that case," replied Dumouriez, "you should not pat after 
 the name of Servan the title of minister at war." The dispute became so 
 warm, that, but for the King's presence, blood would probably have been 
 spilt in the council. Servan off'ered to withdraw his motion ; but this would 
 have been useless, as the Assembly had taken it up ; and the King, instead 
 of gaining anything by it, would have appeared to exercise a violence upon 
 his minister. Dumouriez, therefore, opposed this; the motion was perse- 
 vered in, and was combated by a petition signed by eight thousand of the 
 national guard, who were offisnded because it seemed to be thought that theif 
 service was insufficient for the protection of the Assembly. It was never* 
 iheless carried, and sent to the King. Thus there were two important 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 249 
 
 deciees awaiting his sanction, and it was already surmised that (lie King 
 would refuse his adhesion to them. In this case, the Assembly M'as prepared 
 to pass a dclinitivo resolution against him. 
 
 Diimouriez maintained, in full council, that this measure would be fatal to 
 *Jie throne, but still more so to the Girondins, because the new army would 
 be formed under the influence of the most violent Jacobins. He neverthe- 
 less added that it ought to be adopted by the King, because, if he refused to 
 convoke twenty thousand men regidarly chosen, forty thousand would spon- 
 taneously rise and make themselves masters of the capital. Dumouriez, 
 moreover, declared that he had an expedient for annulling this measure, and 
 Vv'liich he would communicate at the fitting time. In like manner, he insisted 
 that the decree respecting the banishment of the priests ought to be sanc- 
 tioned, because thev were culpable, and besides, exile would withdraw them 
 from the fury of their enemies. Still Louis XVI. hesitated, and replied that 
 he would consider farther of it. At the same council, Roland insisted on 
 reading, in the King's presence, a letter which he had already addressed to 
 him, and which it was consequently superfluous to communicate to him a 
 second time viva voce. This lellcr had been determined upon at the insti- 
 gation of Madame Roland, and it was her composition. It had been pre- 
 viously proposed that one should be written in the name of all the ministers, 
 riiey had refused; but Madame Rnhmd continued to urge the point upon her 
 husband, till he resolved to take the step in his own name. To no purpose 
 did Duranthon, who was weak but di^creet, object witii reason that the tone 
 of his letter, so far from persuading the King, would only sour him against 
 his ministers, who possessed the puljlic confldence, and that a fatal rupture 
 between the throne and the popular party would be the result of it. Roland 
 persisted, agreeably to the advice of his wife and his friends. The Gironde, 
 in fact, was bent on coming to an explanation, and preferred a rupture to 
 uncertainty. 
 
 Roland, therefore, read this letter to the King, and made him listen in full 
 council to the harshest remonstrances. This famous letter was as follows : 
 
 " Sire, — The present state of France cannot last long. It is a state of 
 crisis, the violence of which has nearly attained the highest degree ; it must 
 terminate in a catastrophe which cannot but interest your majesty as deeply 
 as it concerns the whole empire. 
 
 " Honoured by your confldence, and placed in a post which renders truth 
 an imperative duty, I Avill venture to tell the whole truth : it is an obligation 
 which is imposed upon me by yourself. 
 
 " The French have given themselves a constitution, which has made mal- 
 contents and rebels: nevertheless the majority of the nation is determined 
 to uphold that constitution. It has sworn to defend it at the price of its 
 btood, and it has hailed with joy the war which presented a powerful me- 
 dium for securing it. The minority, however, supported by hopes, has 
 Qnited all its efforts to gain the advantage. Hence that intestine struggle 
 against the laws, that anarchy which good citizens deplore, and of which 
 the malevolent eagerly avail themselves to calumniate the new system. 
 Hence that division everywhere difl*used and everywhere excited, for no- 
 where does indifference exist. People desire either the triumph, or a 
 change, of the constitution. They act either to maintain or to altci it. 1 
 shall abstain from examining M'hat it is of itself, in order to consider only 
 what circumstances require ; and, expressing myself as dispassionately as 
 possible, I will seek what we are authorized to expect and what it is right 
 to favour. 
 
 VOL. I. — 33 
 
850 
 
 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Your majesty possessed great prerogatives, which you considered as per 
 taining to royalty. Brought up in the idea of retaining them, you could 
 not see them taken from you with pleasure. The desire of recoverim/ tlieia 
 was therefore as natural as regret on seeing them annihilated. These senti- 
 ments, inherent in the nature of the human heart, must have entered into 
 tlie calculation of the enemies of the Revolution ; they reckoned, therefore 
 upon a secret favour, till circumstances should admit of a declared pro- 
 tection. This disposition could not escape the nation, nor fail to excite its 
 jealousy. 
 
 " Your majesty has therefore heen constantly under the alternative of 
 yielding to your hrst habits, to your private affections, or of making sacri- 
 fices dictated by philosophy, and required by necessity ; consequently of 
 encouraging rebels by alarming the nation, or of appeasing the latter by 
 uniting yourself with it. Everything has its time, and that of uncertainty 
 has at leno^th arrived. 
 
 " Can your majesty at the present day ally yourself openly with those 
 who pretend to reform the constitution, or ought you generously to strive 
 witlrout reserve to render it triumphant? Such is the real question, the 
 solution of which the present state of affairs renders inevitable. As for that 
 highly metaphysical one, whether the French are ripe for liberty, its dis- 
 cussion is not to the purpose here, for it is not the point to judge what we 
 shall become in a century, but to discover what the present generation is 
 capable of. 
 
 "Amidst the agitations in which we have been living for four years past, 
 what has happened ? Privileges burdensome to the people have been 
 abolished. Ideas of justice and equality have been universally diffused. 
 The opinion of the rights of the people has justified the feeling of its rights. 
 The recognition of the latter, solemnly proclaimed, has become a sacred 
 doctrine ; the hatred, inspired for ages by feudalism, has been exasperated 
 by the manifest opposition of most of the nobles to the constitution, which 
 destroys that system. 
 
 " During the first year of the Revolution, the people beheld in those 
 nobles, men odious for the oppressive privileges which they had possessed, 
 but whom they would have ceased to hate after the suppression of those 
 privileges, if the conduct of the nobility since that time had not strengthened 
 every possible reason for dreading it and for combating it as an irrecon- 
 cilable enemy. 
 
 "Attachment to the constitution has increased in the like proportion. Not 
 only are the people indebted to it for manifest benefits, but they have judged 
 that it was preparing for them still greater ; since those who were accus- 
 tomed to make them bear all the burdens were striving so powerfully to 
 overthrow or to modify it. 
 
 " The declaration of rights is become a political gospel, and the French 
 constitution a religion for which the people are ready to perish. 
 
 " Thus zeal has sometimes proceeded so far as to take the place of the 
 law ; and, when the latter was not sufficiently restrictive to repress dis- 
 turbances, the citizens have ventured to punish them themselves. 
 
 " Thus it is that the property of emigrants has been exposed to ravages 
 mstio-ated by revenge. Hence too, so many departments have deemed 
 themselves constrained to pursue severe measures against the priests whom 
 public opinion had proscribed, and of whom it would have made victims. 
 
 " In this collision of interests, the sentiments of all have taken the tone 
 of passion. The country is not a word which the imagination has delighted 
 
FRENCH *R iVOLUTION. 251 
 
 to embellish. It is a being lo which people have made sacrifices, to m 1 ich 
 they are becoming tlaily more and more strongly attaclied on accoujit of the 
 anxieties wliich it occasions, which they liave created with mighty etTorts, 
 which rises from amidst alarms, and which is loved as much for what it liaa 
 cost as for wliat is lioped from it. All tlie attacks made upon it are but 
 means of kindling enlliusiasm in its belialf. To what a heiglit will tliis 
 enthusiasm attain, at the moment when hostile forces, assembled widiout, 
 combine with internal intrigues for the purpose of striking the most falal 
 blows! In all parts of the empire, the ferment is extreme; it will burst 
 forth in a terrible manner, unless a well-founded confidence in the intentions 
 of your majesty can at length allay it: but tiiis confidence cannot be 
 established upon protestations ; it can no longer have anything but facts for 
 its basis. 
 
 " It is evident to the French nation that its constitution can go alone, that 
 the government will have all the strength that is necessary for it, the moment 
 (hat your majesty, absolutely bent on the triumph of that constitution, shall 
 support tlie legislative body witli all the power of the executive, shall re- 
 move all pretext for the alarm of the people, and take away all hope from 
 the discontented. 
 
 " For example, two important decrees have l)een passed. Both essen- 
 tially concern tlie public tranquillity and tlie welfare of the stale. The delay 
 in their sanction excites distrust. If it be further prolonged, it will cause 
 disconlent; and I am obliged to confess that, in the present efl'ervescence 
 of opinions, discontent may lead to any consequences. 
 
 " It is too lale to recede, and there are no longer any means of tem- 
 porizing. The Revolution is accomplished in people's minds. It will be 
 consummated at the expense of their blood, and cemented Avith it, if pru- 
 dence does not prevent tlie calamities which it is yet possible to a-void. 
 
 " I know that it may be imagined that everything may be efTected and 
 everything repressed by exlrenie measures ; but when force has been em- 
 ployed to overawe the Assembly, when terror has been spread throughout 
 Paris, and dissension and stupor in its environs, all France will rise with 
 indignation, and, tearing lierseH^ in pieces amidst the horrors of a ci\il war, 
 will develope that stern energy, Avhich is the parent alike of virtues and of 
 crimes, and is always falal to those by whom it has been called forth. 
 
 " 'I'he welfare of llie state and the happiness of your majesty are inti- 
 mately connected. No power is capable of separaling them. Cruel pangs 
 and certain calamities will environ your throne, if it is not placed by your- 
 self upon the bases of the constitution, and strengthened by the peace 
 which its maintenance must at length procure us. Thus the state of opinion 
 the course of events, motives for any particular line of policy, the interest 
 of your majesty, render indispensable tlie obligation of uniting yourself ■with 
 the legislative body and responding to the wish of the nation, who make a 
 necessity of that which principles present as a duty. But the sensibility 
 natural to this affectionate people is ready to find in that necessity a motive 
 for gratitude. You ha\'e been cruelly deceived, sire, Avhen you have been 
 filled with aversion or distrust for a people so easily touched. It is by being 
 kept in perpetual uneasiness that you yourself have been led to a conduct 
 calculated to alarm. Let them see that you are determined to aid the pro- 
 gicss of that constitution to which they have attached their felicity, and you 
 will soon become the object of their thanksgiving. 
 
 " 'J'lie conduct of the priests in many places, and the pretexts with which 
 Tanaticism furnished the discontented, have caused a wise law to be enacted 
 
2fi2 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 against the disturbers. Be pleased, sire, to give it your sanction. The 
 public tranquillity claims it. The safety of the priest solicits it. If tliis la\i 
 be not put in force, the departments will be constrained to substitute for it 
 as they do in every instance, violent measures, and the incensed people will, 
 for want of it, have recourse to outrages. 
 
 " The attempts of our enemies, the commotions which have broken out 
 hi the capital, the extreme uneasiness excited by the conduct of your guard, 
 and which is still kept up by the testimonies of satisfaction which your ma- 
 jesty iias been induced to bestow upon it, in a proclamation truly impolitic 
 under existing circumstances, and the situation of Paris, and its proximity 
 to the frontiers, have caused the want of a camp in its vicinity to be felt. 
 Tliis measure, the prudence and urgency of which have struck all well- 
 meaning persons, is still waiting only fur your majesty's sanction. Why 
 should delays be allowed to produce the appearance of reluctance, when 
 celerity would deserve gratitude ? 
 
 *' Already have the proceedings of the staff of the national guard of Paris 
 against this measure, awakened a suspicion that it was acting from superior 
 instigation. Already are the declamations of certain furious demagogues 
 raising surmises of their connexion with the parties concerned for the over- 
 throw of thf. constitution. Already is public opinion compromising the 
 intentions of your majesty. A little longer delay, and the disappointed peo- 
 ple will imagine that in their King they behold the friend and accomplice of 
 the conspirators. 
 
 " Gracious Heaven ! hast thou stricken with blindness the powers of the 
 earth, and are they never to have any counsels but such as shall lead them 
 to perdition! 
 
 " I know that the austere lanomaore of truth is seldom relished near the 
 
 O O 
 
 throne. I know, too, that it is because it is scarcely ever proclaimed there 
 that Revolutions are become necessary ; and above all, I know that it is my 
 duty to hold such language to your majesty, not only as a citizen subject to 
 the laws, but as a minister honoured by your confidence, or clotlied with 
 functions which suppose it ; and I know nothing that can prevent me from 
 performing a duty of which I am conscious. 
 
 *' It is in the same spirit that I shall repeat my representations to your 
 majesty on the utility of executing the law which directs that there shall be 
 a secretary to the council. The mere existence of the law speaks so power- 
 fully that it would seem that the execution ought to follow without delay ; 
 but it is of importance to employ all the means of insuring to the delibera- 
 tions the necessary gravity, discretion, and maturity ; and for the responsible 
 ministers there ought to be a medium of recording their opinions. Had such 
 a medium existed, T should not on this occasion have addressed myself in 
 \vriting to your majesty. 
 
 " Life is not a consideration -with the man who prizes his duties above all 
 things; but, next to the happiness of having performed them, the highest 
 satisfaction he can enjoy is that of thinking that he has performed them 
 faithfully; which is an obligation incumbent on the public man. 
 *' Paris, June 10, 1792, the fourth year of liberty. 
 
 " (Signed) Roland." 
 
 The King listened to this lecture with the utmost patience, apd withdrew 
 saying that he would communicate his intentions. 
 
 Dumouriez was summoned to the palace. The King and Queen were 
 together. " Ought we," said they, "to endure any longer the insolence of 
 these three ministers ?" — *' No," replied Dumouriez. " Will you undertake 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 253 
 
 to rid us of tliem?" asked the Kinir. "Yes, sire," answered tlie bold mi- 
 nister; "but in order to succeed, your majesty must consent to one con'li- 
 tion. I have become unpopular, and I shall make myself still more so, Ly 
 dismissing three colleagues, the leaders of a powerful party. There is bu> 
 one way of persuading the public that they are not dismissed on account ol 
 their patriotism. " — "What is that?" inquired the King. " It is," replied 
 Dumouriez, " to sanction the two decrees;" and he repeated the reasons 
 which he had already given in full council. The Queen exclaimed that the 
 condition was too hard : but Dumouriez represented to her that the twenty 
 thousand men were not to be feared; that the decree did not mention the 
 place where they were to be encamped ; tliat they might be sent to Soissons, 
 for instance ; that there they might he employed in military exercises, and after- 
 wards marched off by degrees to tlie armies, when the want of them began 
 lo be felt. " But then," said the King, " it is necessary that you should be 
 minister at war." — " Notwithstanding the responsibility, I consent to it," 
 r<^plied Dumouriez, "but your majesty must sanction the decree against the 
 priests. I cannot serve you unless at that price. This decree, so far from 
 being injurious to the ecclesiastics, will place them beyond the reach of the 
 popular fury. Your majesty could do no other than oppose the first decree 
 of the Constituent Assembly which prescribed the oath ; now you can no 
 longer recede." — "I was wrong tlien," exclaimed Louis XVI.; "I must 
 not commit a second fault." The Queen, who did not share the religious 
 scruples of her husband, joined Dumouriez, and for a moment the King 
 appearetl to comply. 
 
 Dumouriez pointed out the new ministers to supply the places of Scrvan, 
 Claviercs, and Roland. These were Mourgucs for the interior, ami Beauliea 
 for the finances. The war was consigned to Dumouriez, who, for the mo- 
 ment, held two departments, till that of foreign affairs should be tilled. The 
 ordinance was immediately issued, and on the 13th, Roland, Clavicres, and 
 Servan, received their official dismission. Roland, who possessed all the 
 nerve necessary for executing what the bold spirit of his wife was capable 
 of conceiving, repaired immediately to the Assembly, and read to it the letter 
 which he had written to the King, and for which he was dismissed. This 
 step was certainly allowable when once hostilities were declared ; but, as a 
 promise had been given to the King to keep the letter secret, it was by no 
 means generous to read it publicly. 
 
 The Assembly bestowed the greatest applause on Roland's letter, and 
 ordered it to be printed and sent to the eighty-three departments. It declared 
 moreover that the three displaced ministers carried with them the confidence 
 of the nation. It was at this very moment that Dumouriez, nothing daunted, 
 ventured to appear in the tribune with his new tide of minister at war. He 
 had drawn up in the utmost haste a circumstantial report of the state of the 
 army, of the faidts of the administration and of the Assembly. He did not 
 spare those whom he knew to be disposed to give him the most unfavourable 
 reception. The moment he appeared, he was assailed with violent hootings 
 by the Jacobins. The Feuillants maintained the most profound silence. 
 He first gave an account of a slight advantage gained by Lafayette and of the 
 death of Gouvion, an officer, a deputy, and an upright man, who, driven to 
 despair by the calamities of the country, had purposely sought death. The 
 Assembly bestowed its regrets on the loss of this generous citizen ; but 
 listened coldly to those of Dumouriez, and above all to the wish that he ex- 
 pressed to escape the same calamities by the same fate. But when he 
 finnounced his report as minister at war, a refusal to listen to him was mani 
 
254 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 fested on all sides. He coolly desired to be heard, and at length obtained 
 silence. His remonstrances irritated some of the deputies. "Do you hear 
 him ?" exclaimed Guadet: " he is lecturing us!" — "And why not?" coldly 
 replied the intrepid Dumouriez. Quiet was restored; he finislied reading 
 and was by turns hooted and applauded. As soon as he had done, he foldec 
 up the paper for the purpose of taking it with him. " He is running away!" 
 cried one. " No," rejoined he; and, boldly laying his memorial upon th*» 
 desk again, he calmly signed it, and walked through the Assembly witL 
 unsnaken composure. Some of the members, who thronged round him as 
 he passed, said, " You will be sent to Orleans," — " So much the better," he 
 replied; " for I shall then take baths and curds, and get a little rest, which 1 
 stand in need of." 
 
 His firmness cheered the King, who expressed his satisfaction; but the 
 unhappy prince was already shaken and tormented with scruples. Beset by 
 ^alse friends, he had already taken up his former determinations, and refused 
 to sanction the two decrees. 
 
 The four ministers met in council, and entreated the King to give his 
 double sanction, which he liad seemed to promise. The King drily replied, 
 that he could assent only to the decree relative to the twenty thousand men; 
 that, as for that concerning the priests, he was determined to oppose it; that 
 his mind was made up ; and that threats could not frighten him. He read 
 the letter communicating his determination to the President of the Assembly. 
 "One of you," said he to his ministers, "will countersign it;" and these 
 words he uttered in a tone which he had never been known to use before. 
 
 Dumouriez then wrote to him, soliciting his dismissal. "That man," 
 exclaimed the King, " has made me dismiss three ministers because they 
 wanted to oblige me to adopt the decrees, and now he insists on my sanc- 
 tioning them !" This reproach was unjust, for it was only on condition of 
 the double sanction that Dumouriez had consented to remain in office after 
 his colleagues. Louis XVI. saw him, and asked if he persisted. " In that 
 case," said he, " I accept your resignation." The other ministers had 
 given in theirs also. The King, however, detained Lacoste and Duranthon, 
 and prevailed on them to remain. Messrs. Lajard, Chambonas, and Terrier 
 ^e Mont-Ciel, selected from among the Feuillans, were appointed to the 
 tdcant ministerial departments. 
 
 "The King," says Madame Campan, "sunk about this time into <• 
 despondency that amounted even to pliysical debility. He was for ten days 
 together Avithout uttering a word even in the midst of his family, excepting 
 at a game at backgammon, which he played with Madame Elizabeth after 
 dinner, when he merely pronounced the words which are used in that game. 
 The Queen roused him from this state, so ruinous in a crisis when every 
 minute brought with it the necessity for acting, by throwing herself at his 
 feet, and sometimes by employing images calculated to terrify him, at 
 others, expressions of her affection for him. She also urged the claims 
 which he owed to his family ; and went so far as to say that, if they must 
 perish, they ought to perish with honour, and not wait to be both stifled on 
 the floor of their own apartment." ^' 
 
 It is not difficult to guess the disposition of Louis XVI. when he re- 
 covered his spirits and returned to business. After having once forsaken 
 llie party of the Feuillans to throw himself into the arms of the Girondins^ 
 lie could not go back to the former with much cordiality and hope. He had 
 
 • Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 205. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 25!''. 
 
 made the twofold experiment of his incompatibility with both, a/ici, what 
 was still worse, he had caused them all to make it, too. Thenceforward he 
 could not but think more than ever of foreign powers, and rest all his hopes 
 upon them. This disposition became evident to all, and it alarmed lliose 
 who beheld in the invasion of France the fall of liberty, the execution of 
 its defenders, and perhaps the partition and dismemberment of the kingdom. 
 Louis XVI. saw none of these things, for we always shut our eyes to the 
 inconveniences of the course that we prefer. 
 
 Alarmed at the tumult produced by the route of Mons and Tournay, lie 
 Iiad sent Mallet du Pan to Germany, with instructions in his own hand- 
 writing. He there recommended to the sovereigns to advance cautiously, 
 to treat the inhabitants of the provinces through which they should pass 
 with the utmost indulgence, and to send forth before them a manifesto pro- 
 fessing their pacific and conciliatory intentions.'- Moderate as M'as this 
 
 • The mission given by the King to Mallet du Pan is one of the facts which it is of the 
 greatest importance to confirm ; and, from the allusions of Bertrand de Molleville, no doubt 
 can be entertained on the subject. A minister at this period, Bertrand de Molleville must 
 have possessed accurate information, and, as a counter-revolutionary minister, he would 
 rather have concealed than avowed such a fact. This mission proves the moderation of 
 Louis XVI., but likewise his communications with foreigners. 
 
 " So far from sharing this patriotic security, the King saw with the deepest grief France 
 engaged in an unjust and sanguinary war, which the disorganization of her armies seemed 
 to render it impossible for her to maintain, and which more than ever exposed our frontier 
 provinces to the dangers of invasion. Above all things his majesty dreaded civil war, and 
 had no doubt that it would break forth on the intelligence of the lirst advantage over the 
 French troops gained by the corps of emigrants forming part of the Austrian army. It 
 was, in fact, Ijut too much to be apprehended that the Jacobins and the enraged populace 
 would exercise the most cruel reprisals against the priests and the nobles remaining in 
 France. These fears, which the King expressed to me in the daily correspondence that I had 
 with his majesty, determined me to propose to him to send a confidential person to the em- 
 peror and the King of Prussia, to endeavour to prevail on their majesties not to act oHen- 
 sivcly but at the last extremity; and, before the entrance of their armies into the kingdom, 
 to issue a well-wiitten manifesto, in which it should be declared that ' the emperor and the 
 King of Prussia, being forced to take U[) arms by the unjust aggression that had been made 
 upon them, attributed neither to the King nor to the nation, but to the criminal faction which 
 oppressed both, the declaration of war which had been notified to them; that, in conse- 
 quence, so far from renouncing the sentiments of friendship which united them to the King 
 and to France, their majesties would fight only to deliver ihem from the yoke of the most 
 atrocious tyranny that liad ever existed, and to assist them in re-establishing the legitimate 
 authority forcibly usurped, order, and tranquillity, without at all intending to interfere in any 
 way whatever in the form of government, but to insure to the nation the liberty of choosing 
 that which was best suited to it; that all idea of conquest was, therefore, far from the 
 thoughts of their majesties ; that private property should be not less respected than national 
 property ; that their majesties took under their special safeguard all the peaceable and 
 faithful citizens; that their only enemies, as well as those of France, were the factious and 
 their adherents, and that their majesties wished to find out and to £ght those alone.' Mallet 
 du Pan, whom the King esteemed for his abilities and integrity, was charged with this 
 niission. He was the more fit for it, inasmuch as he had never been seen at the palace, had 
 no connexion with any of the persons belonging to the court, and, by taking the route of 
 Geneva, to which he was in the habit of making frequent journeys, his departure could no 
 give rise to any suspicion." 
 
 The King gave Mallet du Pan instructions in his own handwriting, which are quoted by 
 Bertrand de Molleville: 
 
 " 1. The King joins his entreaties to his exhortations, to prevail on the princes and the 
 emigrant French not to take from the present war, by a hostile and olTensive concurrence oe 
 their part, the character of a foreign war waged by one power against another; 
 
 " 2. He recommends to them to rely upon him and the interfering courts for the discussioii 
 and securing of their interests, when the moment for treating shall arrive; 
 
 " 3. It is requisite that they appear only as parties and not arbiters in the quarrel, as tbs 
 
^o6 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 plar., it was nevertheless an invitation to advance into the country; and 
 besides, if such was the wish of the King, was that of the foreign prince* 
 and rivals of France and of the inveterately hostile emigrants the same ? 
 Was Louis XVI. assured that he should not be hurried away beyond his 
 intentions 1 The ministers of Prussia and Austria themselves expressed 
 to Mallet du Pan the apprehensions which they felt on account of the vio- 
 lence of the emigrants, and it appears that he had some difficulty to satisfy 
 them on this head. '• The Queen felt equally strong apprehensions on the 
 
 arbitration ought to be reserved for his majesty when Uberty shall he restored to him, and for 
 the powers who shall demand it ; 
 
 "4. Any other conduct would produce a civil war in the interior, endanger the lives of 
 the King and of his family, overturn the throne, cause the royalists to be slaughtered, rally 
 around the Jacobins all the revolutionists who have seceded and are daily seceding from 
 them, rekindle an enthusiasm which is tending towards extinction, and render more obstinato 
 a resistance which will gi^e way before the first successes, when the fate of the Revolution 
 shall not appear to be exclusively committed to those against whom it has been directed, and 
 who have been its victims ; 
 
 "5, To represent to the courts of Vienna and Berlin the utility of a manifesto jointly 
 with the other states which have formed the concert; the importance of so wording this 
 manifesto as to separate the Jacobins from the rest of the nation, and to give confidence to 
 all those who are capable of renouncing their errors, or who, without wishing for the present 
 constitution, desire the suppression of abuses and the reign of moderate liberty, under a 
 monarch to whose authority the law sets limits; 
 
 '' 6. To obtain the insertion in that document of this fundamental truth, that vi^ar is made 
 on an anti-social faction and not on the French nation ; that the allies take up the defence 
 of legitimate governments and nations against a ferocious anarchy, which breaks all the 
 bonds of sociability among men, all the conventions under the shelter of which liberty, 
 peace, public safety at home and abroad repose ; to dispel all apprehensions of dismember- 
 ment ; not to impose any laws, but to declare energetically to the Assembly, to the adminis- 
 trative bodies, to the municipalities, to the ministers, that they shall be held personally and 
 individually responsible, in their bodies and goods, for all outrages committed against the 
 sacred person of the King, against that of the Queen and of the royal family, and against 
 the persons or property of any citizens whatever ; 
 
 " 7. To express the wish of the King that, on entering the kingdom, the powers declare 
 that they are ready to give peace, but that they neither will nor can treat unless with the 
 King ; that in consequence they require that the most complete liberty be restored to him, 
 and that afterwards there be a congress assembled, in which the different interests shall be 
 discussed on bases already laid down, to which the emigrants shall be admitted as com- 
 plaining parlies, and at which the general plan of claims shall be negotiated under the 
 auspices and the guarantee of the powers." — Dertrand de Mulleville, tome viii., p. 39. 
 
 * Bertrand de Molleville, from whom I have borrowed the facts relative to Mallet du Pan, 
 l!ius expresses himself respecting the reception and the dispositions which he met with: 
 
 " On the 15th and 1 6th of July, Mallet du Pan had had long conferences with Count de 
 (Jobentzel, Count de Haugwitz, and M. Heymann, ministers of the emperor and the King 
 of Prussia. After examining the credentials of his mission, and listening with extreme 
 attention to the reading of his instructions and of his memorial, those ministers acknow- 
 ledged that the views which he proposed perfectly agreed with those which the King had 
 previously expressed to the courts of Vienna and Berlin, which had respectively adopted 
 them. They had, in consequence, testified their entire confidence, and had approved in every 
 point the plai. 'if the manifesto which he had proposed to them. They had declared to him, 
 in the most positive terms, that no views of ambition, no personal interest or design of dis- 
 memberment, entered into the plan of the war, and that the powers had no other view or 
 interest than the re-establishment of order in France, because no peace could exist between 
 her and her neighbours while she was a prey to the anarchy which prevailed, and which 
 obliged them to keep cordons of troops on all the frontiers, and to take extraordinary and 
 very expensive precduiions of safety ; but that, so far from pretending to impose upon the 
 French any form of government whatever, the King should be left at perfect liberty to con- 
 cert with the nation on this subject. They had applied to him for the most circumstantial 
 information relative to the dispositions of the inteiior, the public opinion concerning the old 
 BVstem, the parliaments, the nobiUty, &c., &c. They informed him in confidence that the 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 257 
 
 same subject. She dreaded Calonne in particular, as the most dangerous 
 of her enemies;- but slie nevertheless conjured her family to act with the 
 greatest celerity for her deliverance. From that moment the popular party 
 could not help considering the court as an enemy so much the more dan- 
 gerous, because it liad at its disposal all the forces of the state ; and the 
 combat that was commencing became a combat for life and death. The 
 King, in composing liis new ministry, did not select any con^j..cuous man. 
 In expectation of his speedy deliverance, he liad only to wait a few days 
 more, and for that interval the most insignificant ministry was sulTicient. 
 
 The Feuillans thought to profit by the occasion to unite themselves again 
 to tlie court, less, it must be confessed, from personal ambition of party, than 
 Jlie interest which they felt for the King. They were far from reckoning 
 npon an invasion. Most of them regarded it as a crime, and pregnant, more- 
 over, with equal danger to the court and the nation. They rigluly foresaw 
 that tlie King must succumb before succour could arrive ; and they dreaded 
 lest the invasion should be followed by the atrocities of revenge, perliaps 
 the dismemberment of the territory, and certainly the abolition of all 
 liberty. 
 
 Lally-Tollendal, who, as we have seen, quitted France as soon as the 
 formation of the two chambers became impossible; Malouct, who had made 
 a last attempt in their favour at the time of the revision ; Duport, Lameth, 
 Lafayette, and olliers, who were desirous tliat things should remain as they 
 were, united to make a last effort. This parly, like all the oUier parties, 
 was not in perfect harmony with itself. It united Avith one view only, that 
 of saving the King from his errors, and of saving the constitution with him. 
 Every party, obliged to act in secret, is forced to resort to proceedings 
 wdiich are termed intrigues wlien they are not successful. In this sense tlie 
 Feuillans intrigued. As soon as they saw the dismissal of Servan, Cla- 
 vicrcs, and Roland, effected by Dumouriez, they sought the latter, and 
 offered liim their alliance, on condition that he would sign the veto to the 
 decree against the priests. Dumouriez, perhaps from spleen, perhaps from 
 want of confidence in their means, and no doubt also, on account of the 
 cnorafT-eraent he had made to obtain the Kincj's sanction of the decree, refused 
 
 Or? D ' 
 
 this alliance, and repaired to the army, wishing, as he Avrote to the Assem- 
 bly, that some cannon-ball might reconcile all the opinions respecting him. 
 
 emigrants were destined to form an army to be given to the King when he should be set at 
 liberty. The French princes had been spoken of in an ill-natured and prejudiced manner; 
 Ihey were supposed to harbour intentions directly contrary lo those of the King, and espe- 
 cially those of acting independently and creating a regent. [Mallet du Pan strongly com- 
 bated this supposition, and observed, that the intentions of the princes ought not to bo 
 inferred from the silly or extravagant language of some of those around them.] Lastly, 
 after having fully discussed the difllrent demands and proposals on which Mallet du Pan 
 was directed to insist, the three ministers had unanimously acknowledged their prudence and 
 justice, had each desired to have a note or summary of them, and had given the most formal 
 assurances that the views of the King, lieing perfectly accordant with those of the powers, 
 should be strictly followed." — Btrfrand de Molltville, tome viii., p, 320. 
 
 * " The party of the princes," says Madame Campan, " having been informed of tho 
 coalition of the remains of the conslitutional party with the Queen, was greatly alarmed 
 at iL The Queen, for her part, always dreaded the party of the princes, and the pretensions 
 of the French who composed it. She did justice to Count d'Artois, and frequently said that 
 his party would act in a spirit contrary to his own sentiments for the King, her brother, and 
 for herself, but that he would be led away by persons over whom Calonne had tho mort 
 mischievous ascendency. She reproached Count d'Esterhazy, on whom favours had been 
 heaped through her means, with having become so decided a partisan of Calonne's, that eho 
 could even consider him as an enemy." — Meinuircs de Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 193. 
 
 VOL. I. — 33 
 
258 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 The Feuillans still had Lafayette left. Without taking part in Iheif 
 eccrei proceedings, he had shared iheir dislike of Dumouriez, and was, 
 above all, desirous of saving the Kiri-r, without injuring the constitu- 
 tion. Their means were feeble. In the first place, the court which they 
 strove to save would not be saved by them. The Queen, who cheerfully 
 confided in Barnave, had always adopted the greatest precautions in her 
 interviews with him, and had never admitted him except in secret. The 
 emigrants and the court would not have forgiven her for seeing constitii- 
 tionalists. They recommended to her, in fact, not to treat with them, and 
 rnther to prefer the Jacobins, because, as they said, it would be necessary 
 to make concessions to the former, but it would not be bound to any terms 
 with the latter." If to this ofl-repeated advice be added the personal hatred 
 of the Queen for M. de Lafayette,t it will be easy to conceive that the court 
 would be very reluctant to accept the services of constitutionahsts and 
 Feuillans. Besides this aversion of the court to them, we must also consider 
 the feebleness of the means which they had to employ against the popular 
 party. Lafayette, it is true, was adored by his soldiers, and could rely 
 upon his army ; but he was in front of the enemy, and he could not leave 
 the frontier uncovered for the purpose of marching into the interior. Old 
 Luckner, by whom he was supported, was weak, fickle, and easily intimi- 
 dated, though very brave in the field. But could they even have reckoned 
 upon their military resources, the constitutionalists possessed no civil means. 
 The majority of the Assembly belonged to the Gironde. The national 
 guard was in part devoted to them, but it was disunited and disorganized, 
 In order to employ their military forces, they would therefore have been 
 compelled to march from the frontiers upon Paris ; that is to say, to attempt 
 an insurrection against the Assembly ; and insurrections, however advan- 
 tageous for a violent party which adopts the offensive side, are unsuitable 
 and ruinous to a moderate party, which, in resisting, supports itself by the 
 laws. 
 
 Many, nevertheless, rallied round Lafayette, and concerted with him the 
 plan of a letter to the Assembly. This letter, written in his name, was 
 intended to express his sentiments relative to the King and the constitution, 
 and his disapprobation of every thing that tended to attack either. His 
 friends were divided. Some excited, others restrained his zeal. But think- 
 ing only of what was likely to serve the King, to whom he had sworn 
 fidelity, he wrote the letter; and defied all the dangers which were about to 
 threaten his life. The King and Queen, though determined not to make use 
 of him, allowed him to write, because they beheld in this step only an 
 
 • " Meanwhile the emigrants betrayed great apprehension of all that might be done at 
 home, in consequence of the coalition with the constitutionalists, whom they described as 
 existing only in idea, and as mere ciphers in regard to the means of repairing their blunders. 
 The Jacobins were to be preferred to them, because, it was alleged, there would be no 
 occasion to treat with any one at the moment when the King and the royal family should 
 be rescued from the abyss into which they were plunged." — Mcmoircs de Madame Camper 
 tomeii., p. 194. 
 
 •|-"0n one occasion, when Madame Elizabeth advised the Queen to place confidence in 
 Lafayette, her majesty made answer, that it was better to perish than to lie saved by Lafay- 
 ette and the constitutionalists. 'We know that the general will save the King, but he will 
 not save royalty,' was the public language of the Tuileries. The Queen remembered thai 
 Mirabeau, shortly before his death, had predicted to her that, in case of a war, 'Lafayette 
 would desire to keep the King a prisoner in his tent.' She was in the habit of replyingto 
 those who spoke to her in the general's favour, ' It would be too hard upon us to be twic« 
 indcbied to him for our lives.'" — Lafayetie^a Memoirs. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 259 
 
 exchange of reproaches between the friends of liberty. The lettLX reached 
 Ihe Assembly on the 18th of June. Lafayette, disapproving in the first 
 place of the late minister, whom, he said, he meant to denounce at the 
 moment wlien he was informed of his dismissal, proceeded in these terms: 
 
 »' It is not enough that this branch of the government be delivered from a 
 baneful influence ; the public weal is in danger ; the fate of France depends 
 chiefly on her representatives: from them the nation expects its salvation; 
 but, in giving itself a constitution, it has marked out for them the only route 
 by which they are to save it." 
 
 Then, protesting his inviolable attachment to the law which liad been 
 sworn to, he expatiated on the state of France, which he saw placed be- 
 tween two kinds of enemies, those abroad, and those at home. 
 
 " Both must be destroyed. But you will not have the power to destroy 
 them, unless you be constitutional and just. Look around you; can you 
 deny tliat a faction, and, to avoid every vague denomination, that the Jaco- 
 bin faction, has caused all these disorders ? It is to this faction that I loudly 
 attribute them. Organized like a separate empire, in its principal society 
 and its alfiliations, blindly directed by a few ambitious leaders, this party 
 forms a distinct corporation amongst the French people, whose powers it 
 usurps by overawing its representatives and its functionaries. 
 
 *' It is there tliat, in the public sittings, love of the laws is called aristo- 
 cracy, and their violation, patriotism ; — there the assassins of Desilles re- 
 ceive triumphs, the crimes of Jourdan'' find panegyrists; — there the account 
 of the murder which has sullied the city of Metz has but just now excited 
 infernal acclamations. 
 
 *' Will they expect to escape from these reproaches by bragging of an 
 Austrian manifesto in which these sectaries are mentioned ? Have they 
 become sacred since Leopold has pronounced their name ? And, because 
 we must combat foreigners who interfere in our quarrels, are we to dispense 
 with the duty of delivering our country from a domestic tyranny?" 
 
 Then, recapitulating his former services for liberty, and enumerating the 
 guarantees wliicli he had given to the country, the general answered for 
 himself and his army, and declared that the French nation, if it was not 
 the vilest in tlie world, could and ought to resist the conspiracy of the kings 
 who had coalesced against it. " But," added he, " in order that we, soldiers 
 of liberty, should fight with efiicacy, and die with benefit for her, it is re- 
 quisite that the number of the defenders of the country should be speedily 
 proportioned to that of its adversaries ; that supplies of all kinds be multi- 
 plied to facilitate our movements ; that the well-being of the troops, their 
 equipments, their pay, and the arrangements relative to their health, be no 
 longer subject to fatal delays." Then followed other advice, the principal 
 and la^t of which was this : '* Let the reign of the clubs, annihilated by 
 you, give place to the reign of the law ; their usurpations to the firm and 
 independent exercise of the constituted authorities ; their disorganizing 
 
 • " M. Jouve Jourdan, entitled the ' Bcheader, was born in 1749. He was successively 
 a butcher, a blacksmith's journeyman, a smuggler, a servant, general of the army of Vaucluse 
 in 1791, and finally leader of a squadron of national gendarmerie. In the massacres of Ver- 
 gailles he cut off the heads of two of the King's body guards. He boasted also of having 
 lorn out the hearts of Foulon and Bertier, and called on the National Assembly to reward 
 him for this deed with a civic medal ! He was also one of the chief instigators of the mas 
 eacres at Avignon. In 1794 he was condemned to death as a federalist. Jourdan wa« 
 remarkable for wearing a long 1 eurd, which was often besprinkled with blood." — Bio^raphU 
 Moderne. E. 
 
260 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 maxims, to the genuine principles of liberty ; their frantic fury, to the calnn 
 and persevering courage of a nation which knows its rights and defends 
 tliera ; and lastly, their sectarian combinations to the true interests of the 
 country, which, in this moment of danger, ought to rally around them all 
 those to whom its subjugation and ruin are not objects of atrocious satisfac- 
 tion and infamous speculation!" 
 
 This was saying to exasperated passions, " Stop !" to the parties them- 
 selves, " Put an end to your own existence 1" to a torrent, " Cease to flow!" 
 But though the advice was useless, it was not the less a duty to give it. 
 The letter was highly applauded by the right side. The left was silent. 
 No sooner was the reading of it finished, than it was proposed to print and 
 send it to the departments. 
 
 Vergniaud asked and obtained permission to speak. According to him it 
 was of importance to that liberty, which M. de Lafayette had hitherto so 
 ably defended, to make a distinction between the petitions of private citi- 
 zens, who offered advice or claimed an act of justice, and the lectures of an 
 armed general. The latter ought never to express his sentiments unless 
 through the medium of the ministry, otherwise liberty would be undone. 
 It was, therefore, expedient to pass to the order of the day, M. Thevenot 
 replied, that the Assembly ought to receive from the lips of M. de Lafayette 
 truths which it had not dared to tell itself. This last observation excited a 
 great tumult. Some members denied the authenticity of the letter. " Even 
 if it were not signed," exclaimed M. Coube, "none but M. de Lafayette 
 could have written it." Guadet demanded permission to speak upon a 
 matter of fact, and asserted that the letter could not be that of M. de Lafay- 
 ette, because it adverted to the dismissal of Dumouriez, which had not taken 
 place till the 16th, and it was dated the very same day. " It is therefore im- 
 possible," he added, " that the person whose name is signed to it should 
 have made mention of a fact which could not have been known to him. Either 
 the signature is not his, or it was attached to a blank, whicli was left for a 
 faction to fill up at its pleasure." 
 
 A great uproar followed these words. Guadet resumed : he said that M. 
 de liafayette was incapable, according to his known sentiments, of having 
 written such a letter. " He must know," added he, " that when Crom- 
 well . . ." Dumas, the deputy, unable to contain himself, at this last word, 
 desired to be heard. Agitation prevailed for a considerable time in the As- 
 sembly. Guadet, however, regained possession of the tribune, and began: 
 ♦'I was jsaying . . ." Again he was interrupted. " You were at Crom- 
 well," said someone to him. "I shall return to him," he replied. "I 
 was saying that M. de Lafayette must know tliat when Cromwell held a 
 similar language, liberty was lost in England. It is expedient either that 
 we ascertain whether some coward has not sheltered himself beneath the 
 name of M. de Lafayette, or prove by a signal example to the French 
 people that we have not taken a vain oath in swearing to maintain the con- 
 stitution." 
 
 A great number of members attested the signature of M. de Lafayette 
 The letter was, nevertheless, referred to the committee of twelve for the 
 purpose of ascertaining its authenticity. It was thus deprived of the honour 
 of being printed and sent to the departments. 
 
 This generous procedure then proved absolutely useless, and could not be 
 otherwise in the existing state of the public mind. From that moment, the 
 general became almost as unpopular as the court ; and if the leaders of the 
 Gironde, more enlightened than the populace, did not believe M. de Lafay 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 26] 
 
 ettc capable of betraying his country because he haa attacked the Jacobins, 
 the mass nevertlieless believed him to be so, because it was constantly re 
 peated in the clubs, in the newspapers, and in the public places, that he 
 was. 
 
 Tluis the alarm which the court had excited in the popular party was 
 heightened by tliat which M. de Lafayette had just added to it by a step of 
 his own. This party then became absolutely desperate, and resolved to 
 strike a blow at the court before it could carry into execution the plots of 
 which it was accused. 
 
 We have already seen how the popular party was composed. In speak- 
 ing- out more decidedly, it also manifested a more decided character, and 
 several additional persons rendered themselves conspicuous in it. Robes- 
 pierre has already been mentioned at the Jacobins, and Danton at the Cor- 
 deliers. The clubs, the municipality, and the sections, comprised many 
 men who, from the ardour of their disposition and opinions, were readv for 
 any enterprise. Among tlicse were Sergent and Panis, whose names, at a 
 later period, were connected with a terrible event. In the fauxbourgs were 
 remarked several commanders of battalions, wlio had rendered themselves 
 formidable. The principal of tliese was a brewer named Santerre. By his 
 stature, his voice, and a certain fluency of speech, lie pleased the people, 
 and liad acquired a kind of sway in tlie fauxbourg St. Antoine, the battalion 
 of which he commanded. Santerre had already distinguished himself in 
 the attack on Vincennes, repulsed by Lafayette in February, 1791 ; and, 
 like all men wlio are too easily wrought upon, he was capable of becoming 
 very dangerous, according to the excitement of the moment.' He attended 
 all the factious meetings held in the distant fauxbourgs. There, too, were 
 to be found Carra, the journalist, prosecuted for an attack on Bertrand de 
 Mollcville and Montmorin ; Alexandre, commandant of the fauxbourg St. 
 Marceau ; ? person well known by the name of Fournier the American ; Le- 
 gendre,t tlie butcher, who was afterwards a deputy of the Convention ; a 
 journeyman goldsmith, named Rossignol ; and several others, who, by their 
 communications with the populace, set all the fauxbourgs in commotion. 
 
 • " M. Grammont. assured me he was positively informed that Santerre had entertained a 
 project to have the Queen asi^a'^sinaled, and that a grenadier of his liattalion had engaged to 
 perpetrate the crime fur a considerable sum of money, a small part of which he had already 
 received. The gi-enadier in (Question, added M. Grammont, was sufficiently remarkable by a 
 Bear in his left cheek. The Mth of July, the day of the Federation, was the time fixed on 
 for the execution of the project. On that day, accordingly, M. Grammont went himself to 
 the palace. The grenadier appeared at eight o'clock at night, and, though he was perceived 
 by the sentinel, yet he had the aJdr?cs to make his escape. He returned, however, tlie same 
 night in his uniform, and was t;^.i:sn up at the bottom of the stair leading to the Queen's 
 apartment. He was recognised by the scar, and conducted to the guard-room. On search- 
 ing him, a cutlass was found concealed in the lining of his coat. The next morning, just 
 as he was going to be brought before the justice of peace, he was carried otT by a band of 
 ruffians, who came to the palace on purpose to rescue him." — Private Memoirs of Bertrand 
 de Mullcville. E. 
 
 •j- " L. Legendre was ten years a sailor, and afterwards a butcher at Paris. At the break- 
 ing out of the Revolution he was one of the earliest and most violent leaders of the mob. 
 In 1791 he was deputed by the city of Paris to the Convention. In 1793 he voted for the 
 King's death, and, the day before his execution, proposed to the Jacobins to cut him into 
 eighty-four pieces, and send one to each of the eighty-four departments ! He vv-as one of the 
 chief instigators of the atrocities of Lyons; and at Dieppe, when some persons complained 
 of the want of bread, he answered, ' Well, eat the aristocrats !' Legendre died at Paris in 
 1797, aged forty-one, and bequeathed his body to the surgeons, 'in order to be useful \a 
 mankind after his death.' " — Biographie Moderne. E. 
 
262 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 By the most conspicuous among them they communicated with the chiefs! 
 of the popular party, and were thus able to conform their movements to a 
 superior direction. 
 
 It is impossible to designate in a precise manner such of the deputies as 
 contributed to this direction. The most distinguished of them were strangers 
 to Paris, and possessed no other influence there but that of their eloquence. 
 Guadet, Isnard, Vergniaud, were all natives of the provinces, and commu- 
 nicated more with their departments than with Paris. Besides, though 
 extremely ardent in the tribune, they were not at all active out of the 
 Assembly, and were not capable of exciting the multitude. Condorcet and 
 Brissot, deputies of Paris, were not more active than those just mentioned, 
 and, by the conformity of their opinions with those of the deputies of the 
 West and South, they had become Girondins. Roland, since the dismissal 
 of the patriot ministry, had returned to private life. He occupied an humble 
 and obscure dwelling in the Rue St. Jacques. Persuaded that the court 
 entertained the design of delivering up France and liberty to foreigners, he 
 deplored the calamities of his country in conjunction with some of his friends, 
 who were members of the Assembly. It does not. however, appear that 
 any plans were formed in his society for attacking the court. He merely 
 promoted the printing of a paper entitled La Sentinelle, which was con- 
 ducted in a patriotic spirit by Louvet, already known at the Jacobins by his 
 controversy with Robespierre. Roland, during his ministry, had allowed 
 funds for the purpose of enlightening the public opinion by means of the 
 press, and it was with a remnant of these funds that La Sentinelle was 
 carried on. 
 
 About this period there was, at Paris, a young native of Marseilles, full 
 of ardour, courage, and republican illusions, and who, on account of his 
 extraordinary beauty, was called the Antinous. He had been deputed by 
 his commune to the legislative Assembly, to complain of the directory of 
 his department ; for this division between the inferior and superior authori- 
 ties, between the municipalities and the directories of departments, was 
 general throughout all France. The name of this young man was Barba- 
 roux.'- Possessing intelligence and great activity, he was likely to become 
 very serviceable to tlie popular cause. He met Roland, and deplored with 
 him the dangers with which the patriots were threatened. They agreed 
 that, as the danger was daily growing greater in the north of France, they 
 ought, if driven to the last extremity, to retire to the south, and there found 
 a republic, which they might some day extend, as Charles VII. had formerly 
 extended his kingdom from Bourges. They examined the map with Ser- 
 van, the ex-minister, and said to each other that. Liberty, if beaten upon the 
 Rhine and beyond it, ought to retire behind the Vosges and the Loire ; that, 
 driven from these intrenchments, she would still have left, in the east, the 
 Doubs, the Ain, and the Rhone ; in the west, the Vienne and the Dordogne ; 
 
 • " Charles Barbaroux, deputy to the Convention, was born at Marseilles. He embraced 
 the cause of the Revolution with uncommon arJour, and came to Paris in July, 1792, with 
 a few hundred Marseillais, to brinp about a revolution against the court. He had a con- 
 siderable share in the insurrection of the 10th of August. He belonged to the party of the 
 Girondins, and was guillotined in Bordeaux in 1794." — BingrapJde Moderne, E. 
 
 "Barbaroux's ingenious disposition and ardent patriotism inspired us with confidence. 
 Discoursing on the bad situation of affairs, and of our apprehensions of despotism in the 
 North under Robespierre, we formed the conditional plan of a republic in the South. Bar 
 baroux was one whose features no painter would disdam it, copy for the head of an Anti 
 nous." — Madame Roland's Memoirs. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 263 
 
 in the centre, the rocks and the rivers of the Lhnousin, <'And beyond 
 these," added Barbaroux, " we have the Auvcrgne, its steep hills, its 
 ravines, its aged forests, and the mountains of the Velay, laid waste of old 
 by fire, now covered Avitli pines; a wild country, where men plough amidsl 
 snow, but wlicre they live independently. The Ce venues would olTer us 
 anotlicr asylum too celebrated not to be formidable to tyranny ; and in the 
 extreme south, we should find for barriers the Isere, the Durance, the Rhune 
 from Lyons to the sea, the Alps, and the ramparts of Toulon. Lastly, if 
 all these points were forced, we should have Corsica left — Corsica, where 
 neither Genoese nor French have been able to naturalize tyranny ; which 
 needs but hands to be fertile, and philosophers to be enliglitened." 
 
 It was natural that the natives of the South should think of betaking 
 themselves to their provinces in case the North should be invaded. They 
 did not, however, neglect the North, for they agreed tc write to their 
 departments, to induce them to f(nm spontaneously a camp of twenty tliou- 
 sand men, though die decree relative to this camp had not yet been sanctioned. 
 They reckoned much upon jMarscillcs, an opulent city, with a numerous 
 population, and extremely democratic. It had sent Rlirabeau to the States- 
 general, and it had since dilfuscd over all the South the spirit Avilh wliich it 
 was itself animated. The mayor of that city was a friend of Barbaroux, 
 and held the same opinions as lie did. Barbaroux wrote, desiring him to 
 provide supplies of corn, to send trusty persons into the neighbouring depart- 
 ments as well as to the armies of the Alps, of Italy, and of the Pyrenees, 
 in order to prepare the public opinion there ; to sound Montesquiou, the 
 commander of the army of the Alps, and to turn Ids ambition to the advan- 
 tage of liberty ; lastly, to concert wilh Paoli and the Corsicans, so as to 
 secure a sure aid and a last asylum. It was also recommended to the same 
 mayor to retain the produce of the taxes in order to deprive the executive 
 government of it, and in case of need to employ it against the latter. What 
 Barbaroux did for Marseilles, others did for their departments, and thought 
 of insuring a refuge for themselves. Thus distrust, converted into despair, 
 paved the way for a general insurrection, and, in the preparations for 
 insurrection, there was already a marked diflerence between Paris and the 
 departments. 
 
 Petion, u.e mayor, connected with all the Girondins, and subsequently 
 classed and proscribed with them, had from his functions much intercourse 
 with the agitators of Paris. lie had great composure, an appearance of 
 coldness which his enemies mistook for stupidity, and an integrity wliich 
 was extolled by his partizans and never attacked by his slanderers. The 
 people, Avho give distinctive appellations to all those who engage their atten- 
 tion, called him Virtue Petion. We have already mentioned him on occa- 
 sion of the journey to Vercnnes, and of the preference given him by the 
 court to Lafavette for the mayoralty of Paris. The court hoped to bribe 
 him, and certain swindlers promised to accomplish this matter. They 
 demanded a sum of money, which they kept, without having even made 
 overtures to Petion, whose well known character would have rendered them 
 useless. The joy felt by the court at the prospect of gaining a supporter 
 and corrupting a popular magistrate, was of short duration. It soon disco- 
 vered that it had been cheated, and that its adversaries were not so venal aa 
 t had imagined. 
 
 Petioj; had been one of the first to take for granted that the propensitier 
 
 • M^moires de Barbaroux, pp. 38, 39. 
 
264 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 of a King, born to absolute power, are not to be modified. He was a re^ 
 publican before any one ever dreamt of a republic ; and in the Constituent 
 Assembly he was from conviction, what Robespierre was from the acerbity 
 of his temper. Under the Legislative Assembly, he became still more con- 
 vinced of the incorrigibleness of the court. He was persuaded that it would 
 call in foreigners, and, as he had before been a republican from system, he 
 now became so for the sake of safety. Thenceforward he resolved in his 
 mind, as he said, how to promote a new revolution. He checked ill-directed 
 movements, favoured on the contrary such as were judicious, and strove 
 above all things to reconcile them with the law, of which he was a strict 
 observer, and which he was determined not to violate but at the last ex- 
 tremity. 
 
 Though we are not well acquamted with the extc?it of the participation 
 of Petion in the movements which were preparing, and know not whether 
 he consulted his friends of the Gironde for the purpose of promoting them, 
 we are authorized by his conduct to assert that he did nothing to impede 
 them. It is alleged that, in the latter part of June, he went to the house of 
 Santerre ^vith Robespierre, Manuel, procureur syndic of the commune, 
 Siliery, ex-constituent, and Chabot, ex-capuchin and deputy ; that the latter 
 harano^ued the section of the Quinze-Vingts, and said that the Assembly was 
 waiting for it. Whether these circumstances be true or not, it is certain 
 that clandestine meetings were held ; and from the well-known opinions and 
 subsequent conduct of the persons above named, it is not to be believed that 
 they had any scruple to attend them.*' From that moment s. fete (or the 
 
 * Among the depositions contained in the proceedings instituted against the authors of the 
 20lh of June, is one that is extremely curious, on account of the particulars which it fur- 
 nishes — I mean that of Lareynie. It comprehends ahnost everything that is repeated by 
 the other witnesses, and therefore we quote it in preference. These proceedings were printed 
 in quarto. 
 
 ** Before us appeared Sieur Jean Baptiste Marie Louis Lareynie, a volunteer soldier of the 
 battalion of the Isle St. Louis, decorated with the military cross, dwelling in Paris, Quaj 
 Bourbon, No. I ; 
 
 " Who, deeply afflicted at the disturbances which have recently taken place in the capital, 
 and conceiving it to be the duty of a good citizen to furnish justice with all the information 
 that it can need in these circumstances, for the purpose of punishing the abettors and instiga- 
 tors of all manoeuvres against the public tranquillity and the integrity of the French constitu- 
 tion, has declared that, for a week past, he has known, from acquaintance that he has in the 
 fauxbourg St. Antnine, that the citizens of that fauxbourg were worked up by the Sieur 
 Santerre, commandant of the battalion of the Enfans-Trouves, and by other persons, among 
 whom were the Sieur Foumier, calling himself an American, and elector, in 1791, of the 
 department of Paris; the Sieur Rotondo, who calls himself an Italian; the Sieur Lcgenilre, 
 butcher, living in the Rue des Boucherics. fauxbourg St. Germain ; the Sieur Cuirettc Ver- 
 rieres, living over the colfee-house of Rendez-Vous, Rue du Thuatre-Francais; who held by 
 night secret meetings at the Sieur Santerrc's, and sometimes in the commiltce-room of the 
 section of the Enfans-Trouves; that the deliberations were there carried on in the presence 
 of a very small number of trusty persons of the fauxbourg, such as the Sieur Rossignol, lately 
 a journey man goldsmith; the Sieur Nicolas, sapper of the said battalion of the Enfans-Trouves; 
 the Sieur Brierre, wine merchant; the Sieur Gonor, who calls himself the conqueror of the 
 Bastille, and others whom he could name ; that there they determined upon the motions 
 which should be discussed by the groups at the Tuileries, the Palais Royal, the Place de 
 Greve, and especially at the Porte St. Antoinc ; that there were drawn up the incendiary pla- 
 cards posted from time to time in the fauxbourgs, and the petitions destined to be carried by 
 deputations to the patriotic societies of Paris ; and lastly, that there was framed the famous 
 petition, and there hatched the plot of the 20th of this month. That on the preceding night 
 there was held a secret committee at the Sieur Sanlcrrc's, which began almost at midnight, 
 and at which witnesses, whom he can bring forward when they have returned from the errand 
 *u which they have been scat by tho Sieur Santerre to the neighbouring country, declar* 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 265 
 
 20th of June, the anniversary of tlie oath at tlie Temas Court, was talked 
 of in llie fauxhouro^s. It was said that a tree of liberty was to be planted on 
 tlie terrace of the FeuiUans, and a petition presented to the Assembly as well 
 as to the King. This petition, moreover, was to be presented in arms. It, 
 
 thpy saw present Messrs. Potion, mayor of Paris; Robespierre; Manuel, solicitor of (he com- 
 mune; Alexandre, commanJant of llie battalion of St. Michel; and Siliery, cx-dcpuly of the 
 National Assembly. That, on the 20th, the Sieur Santcrre, seeing that several of his people, 
 and e^[)L'cia|]y the leaders of his party, deterred by the resolution {urrctt:) of the directory of 
 the department, refused to go down armed, alleging that they should be fired upon, assured 
 them tliat (hey had nothing to fear, that ike national i^uurd would not have ant/ orders, and 
 that M. Fefion would he there. That, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon of the said day, 
 the concourse did not amount to more than about fifteen hundred persons, including those 
 drawn tugithcr by curiosity, and that it was not till the Sieur Santcrre, leaving his house, and 
 pulling himself at the licad of a detachment of invalids, had arrived at the Place, and by tho 
 way excited the spectators to join him; that the ruullitude increased considerably till his 
 arrival ut the passage of the Fouillans; that there, not having dared to force the post, he 
 turned into the court of the Capuchins, where he caused the may, which he had destined for 
 the [)alace of the Tuileries, to be planted ; that then he, this deponent, asked several persons 
 in the tr.iiu of the said Sieur Santcrre why the may was not i>lanted on the terrace of the 
 palace, as had been agreed upon, and that tliese persons replied that they should take i^ooa 
 care not to do an i/ such tiling ,■ tJiat it was a snare into ivhich the Feuillantins meant to 
 lead them tjccause there icere guns placed in the garden ,- fjut that thct/ should not run 
 into the trap. The deponent observed that, nt this moment, the mob was almost entirely 
 dispersed, and that it was not till the drums and music were heard in the vicinity of the 
 National Assembly, that the people, then scattered here and there, rallied, and, joined by the 
 other spectators, liU'd olf quietly three deep, before the legislative body ; that he, deponent, 
 remaiked that these peofile, in passing into the Tuileries, were guilty of no misdemeanor, and 
 did not attem|)t to enter the palace; that even when assembled in the Place du Carrousel, 
 where tlu'y arrived after going round by the C^uai du T^ouvre, they manifested no intention 
 of penetrating into the courts till the arrival of the Sieur Santerrc, who was at the National 
 Assembly, and did not leave it before the sitting was over. That then the Sieur Santcrre, 
 accompanied by several persons, among whrmi he, deponent, remarked the Sieur Hurugue, 
 addressed the mob, which was at that time very (luiet, antl asked lolnj they hud md entered 
 the palace ; that they must go in, a)id that this nu/s what they had come for. That imme- 
 diately he ordered (he gunners of his battalion to follow him with one [liece of cannon, and 
 said that, if he was refused admittance, he must break open the gate with cannon-balls; that 
 afterwards he proceeded in this manner to the gate of the palace, where he met with a faint 
 resistance from the horse gendarmerie, but a firm opposition on the part of the national guard; 
 that this occasioned great noise and agitation, and they would probably have come to blows, 
 had not two men, in scarfs of the national colours, one of whom he, deponent, knew to be 
 the Sieur Boucher-Rene, and the other was said by the spectators to be the Sieur Sergent, 
 come by way of the courts, and ordered, he must say, in a very imperious, not to say insolent 
 tone, at the same time prostituting the sacred name of the law, the gates to be opened, 
 adding, that nobody had a right to cluse them, but every citizen had a right to e?iter ,- that 
 the gates were accordingly opened liy the national guard, and (hat then Santerre and his 
 band rushed confusedly into the courts; that the Sieur Santerre, who had cannon drawn 
 forward to break open the doors of (he King's apar(nients if he found them fastened, and to 
 fire upon the national guard in case it should oppose his incursion, was stopped in his pro- 
 gress in (he last court on the left, at the foot of the staircase of (he Pavilion by a group of 
 ci(izens, who addressed him in the most reasonable language with a view to appease his fury, 
 and threatened to make him responsible for all the mischief that should be done on that fatal 
 day, because, said they to him, you are the sole cause of this unconstitutional assemblage, 
 you alone have misled these good people, and you- ore the only villain among them. That 
 the tone in which these honest citizens spoke to the Sieur Santerre caused him to turn pale; 
 but that, encouraged by a look from the Sieur Legendre, butcher, above named, he had 
 recourse to a hypocritical subterfuge, addressing his band, and saying, 'Genthmen, draw up 
 a report of my refusal to march at your head into the King's apartments ,-' (hat (he mob, 
 accustomed to guess the Sieur Santerre's meaning, by way of answer, fell upon the group of 
 honest citizens, en(ered with its cannon and its commandant, the Sieur Santerre, and pene- 
 trated into the apartments by all the passages, after having broken in pieces the doors aoi) 
 windows." 
 VOL. I. — 34 
 
26G HISTORY OF THE 
 
 is obvious that the real intention of this scheme was to strike terror into the 
 palace by the sight of forty thousand pikes. 
 
 On the IGth of June, a formal application was addressed to the general 
 council of the commune tliat the citizens of the fauxbourg St. Antoine should 
 be authorized to meet on the 20th in arms, and to present a petition to the 
 Assembly and to the King. Tlie general council of tlie commune passed to 
 the order. of the day, and directed that its resolution [arrete) should be com- 
 municated to the directory and to the municipal body. The petitioners did 
 not regard this proceeding as a condemnation of their purpose, and declared 
 loudly that they would meet in spite of it. It was not till the 18th that 
 Petion, the mayor, made the communications ordered on the 16th: he 
 made tliem, moreover, to the department only and not to the municipal 
 body. 
 
 On the 19th, the directory of the department, which we have seen exert- 
 ing itself on all occasions against agitators, passed a resolution [cirrHe] for- 
 bidding armed assemblages, and enjoining the commandant-general and the 
 mayor to employ the measures necessary for dispersing them. This reso- 
 lution was notilied to the Assembly by the minister of the interior, and a 
 discussion immediately arose on the question whether it should be read or 
 not. 
 
 Vergniaud opposed its being read, but unsuccessfully. The reading of 
 the resolution was immediately followed by the order of the day. 
 
 Two circumstances of considerable importance had just occurred in the 
 Assembly. The King had signified his opposition to tlie two decrees, one 
 of which related to the nonjuring priests, and the other to the formation of a 
 camp of twenty thousand men. This communication had been received in 
 profound silence. At the same time, some persons from Marseilles had ap- 
 peared at the bar for the purpose of reading a petition. We have just seen 
 wliat kind of correspondence Bnrbaroux kept up with them. Excited by his 
 counsels, they had written to Petion, offering him all their forces,* and this 
 offer was accompanied with a petition to the Assembly. In this petition 
 they said among other things : 
 
 "French liberty is in danger, but the patriotism of the South Vvlll save 
 
 France. The day of the people's wrath is arrived Legislators, the 
 
 power of the people is in your hands; make use of it: French patriotism 
 demands your permission to march with a more imposing force towards the 
 
 capital and the frontiers You Avill not refuse the sanction of the 
 
 law to those who would cheerfully perish in its defence." 
 
 This petition gave rise to long debates in the Assembly. The members 
 of the right side maintained that, to send such a decree to the departments, 
 would be inviting them to insurrection. Its transmission was nevertheless 
 decreed, in spite of these remarks, which were certainly very just but una- 
 vailing, since people were persuaded that nothing but a new revolution could 
 save France and liberty. 
 
 Such had been the occurrences of the 19th. Notwithstanding the resolu- 
 tion of the directory, the movements continued in the fauxbourgs, and it is 
 affirmed that Santerre said to his trusty partisans, who were somewhat inti- 
 
 • "When the Marseillois soon afterwarJs arrived in Paris, though only about five hundred 
 m number, they marched through the city (o the terror of the inhabitants, their keen black 
 eyes seeming- to seek out aristocratic victims, and their songs partaking of the wild Moorish 
 character that Hngers in the south of France, denouncing vengeance on Kings, priests, and 
 nol)ies. ' I never,' says Madame de la Rochejaquelein, ' heard anything more impressive and 
 U^rrible thau their songs " — ScoWs Life of Napoleon. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 26*3 
 
 niidatcd by that resolution, "What are you afraid of? The national guard 
 will not liave orders to fire, and M. Petion will be there." 
 
 At inidiiiirlU the mayor, whether he conceived that the movement Avas ir- 
 resistible, or tliat he ought to favour it, as he did that of the 10th of August, 
 wrote to tlie directory, soliciting it to authorize the assemblage, by permit- 
 ting the national guard to receive the citizens of the fauxbourgs into its ranks. 
 This expedient fully accomplished the views of tliose who, without wishing 
 for any disturbance, were ne\ertheless desirous of overawing the King; and 
 everything proves that such were in fact the views of Petion and the populai* 
 chiefs. 
 
 At five o'clock on the morning of the 20th of June, the directory replied 
 tliat it persisted in its preceding resolutions. Petion tlien ordered the com- 
 mandant-general on duty to keep up all the posts to their full complement, 
 and to double the guard of the Tuileries. But he did nothing more: and, 
 unw illing eitlier to renew the scene in the Champ de Mars, or to disperse the 
 assemblage, he waited till nine o'clock for the meeting of the municipal body. 
 As soon as it met, it came to a decision contrary to that of the directory, and 
 the national guard was enjoined to open its ranks to the armed petitioners. 
 Petion did not oppose a resolution Avliicli violated the administrative subordi- 
 nation, and was thus guilty of a species of inconsistency, with wliich lie was 
 afterwards reproached. But, whatever was the character of that resolution, 
 its objects WLTc rendered useless, fur the national guard had not time to as- 
 semble, and the concourse soon became so considerable, that it was no longer 
 possible to change either its form or its direction. 
 
 It w^as eleven o'clock in tlie forenoon. Tiie Assembly had just met in 
 expectation of some great event. The memliers of the department hastened 
 to it for the purpose of acquainting it widi the inutility of their clTorts. Rcg- 
 derer, the prociirrur ni/iuHr, obtained permission to speak. lie stated that 
 an extraordinary assemblage of citizens had jnet, in spite of the lav/ and va- 
 rious injunctions of the authorities : that the object of this assemblage ap- 
 peared to be to celebrate tlie aimiversary of tlie 20th of June, and to pay a 
 new tribute of respect to the Assembly: but that, if this was the intention of 
 the greater mimber, it was to be feared that evil-disposed persons were de- 
 STOus of availing themselves of this concourse to carry an address to the 
 King, to whom none ought to be presented but in the peaceful form of a 
 mere petition. 
 
 Then, referring to the resolutions of the directory and of the general coun- 
 cil of the commune, the laws enacted against armed assemblages, and those 
 which limit to twenty the number of citizens who could present a petition, 
 he exhorted the Assembly to enforce them: "for," added he, "armed peti- 
 tioners arc to-day thronging hither by a civic movement: but to-morrow a 
 crowd of evil-disposed persons may collect, and then, I ask you, gentlemen, 
 what should we have to say to them?" 
 
 Amidst the applause of the right and the murmurs of the left, which, by 
 disapproving the apprehensions and the foresight of the department, evidently 
 approved the insurrection, Vergniaud ascended the tribune, and observed that 
 the abuse M'ith which the procurcur si/ndic was alarming the Assembly for 
 the future, had already taken place. That on several occasions, armed pe- 
 titioners had been received, and even permitted to file through the hall; that 
 this was perhaps wrong, but that the petitioners of that day would have reason 
 to complain if they were treated differently from others; that if, as it was 
 said, they purposed to present an address to the King, no doubt they Avould 
 Bend to him unarmed petitioners ; and, at any rate, if any danger was apprc 
 
268 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 bended for the King, they had but to send hhn a deputation of sixty mem 
 bers for a safeguard. 
 
 Dumolard admitted all that Vergniaud had asserted, confessed that the 
 abuse had taken place, but declared that a stop ought to be put to it, and 
 more especially on this occasion, if they did not wish the Assembly and the 
 King to appear in the eyes of all Europe the slaves of a destructive faction. 
 He proposed, like Vergniaud, the sending of a deputation: but he required, 
 moreover, that tlie municipality and the department should be responsible for 
 the measures taken for the maintenance of the laws. The tumult became 
 more and more violent. A letter was brought from Santerre. It was read 
 amidst the applause of the tribunes. It purported that the inhabitants of the 
 fauxbourg St, Antoine were celebrating the 20th of Juno; that they Avere 
 calumniated, and begged to be admitted to the bar of the Assembly, in order 
 that they might confound their slanderers, and prove that they were still the 
 men of the 14th of July. 
 
 Vergniaud then replied to Dumolard that, if the law had been violated, the 
 example was not new : that to attempt to oppose the violation of it this time 
 would be to renew the sanguinary scene in the Champ de Mars : and that, 
 after all, there was nothing reprehensible in the sentiments of the petitioners. 
 Jusdy anxious about the future, added Vergniaud, they wish to prove that, 
 in spite of all the intrigues carried on against liberty, they are still ready to 
 defend it. 
 
 Here, as we see, the true sentiment of the day was disclosed by an ordi- 
 nary effect -of the discussion. The tumult continued, Ramond desired per- 
 mission to speak, but a decree was required before he could obtain it. At 
 this moment it was stated that the petitioners were eight thousand, "Eight 
 thou':5and !" exclaimed Calvet, "and we are but seven hundred and forty-five. 
 Lei us adjourn." Cries of "Order! order!" arose on all sides. Calvet 
 was called to order, and Ramond was urged to speak, because eight thonsand 
 citizens were waiting. "If eight thousand citizens are waiting," said he, 
 " twenty-four millions of French are waiting forme, too." He then repeated 
 *he reasons urged by his friends of the right side. All at once, the petition^ 
 ers rushed into the hall. The Assembly, indignant at the intrusion, rose; 
 the president put on his hat, and the petitioners quietly withdrew. The As- 
 sembly, gratified by this mark of respect, consented to admit them. 
 
 This petition, the tone of v/hich was most audacious, expressed the pre- 
 vailing idea of all the petitions of that period. " The people are ready. 
 They wait but for you. They are disposed to employ great means for car* 
 ■(•ying into execution Article 3 of tlie declaration of rights — resistance to 
 
 oppression Let the minority among you, whose sentiments do not 
 
 agree with ours, cease to pollute the land of liberty, and betake yourselves 
 to Coblcntz. Investigate the cause of the evils which threaten us. If it 
 proceeds from the executive, let the executive be annihilated !" 
 
 The president, after a reply in which he promised the petitioners the 
 vigilance of the representatives of the people, and recommended obedience 
 to the laws, granted them, in the name of the Assembly, permission to file 
 off before it. The doors were then thrown open, and the mob, amounting 
 at that moment to at least thirty thousand persons, passed through the hall. 
 [t is easy to conceive Avhat the imagination of the populace, abandoned to 
 iiself, is capable of producing. Enormous tables, upon which lay the de- 
 claration of rights, headed the procession. Around these tables danced 
 women and chiklren, bearing olive-branches and pikes, that is to say, peace 
 or war, at the option of the enemy. They sang in chorus the famous Ca 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 269 
 
 ira. Then came the porters of the markets, the working men of all classes 
 with wretched muskets, swords, and sharp pieces of iron fastened to tha 
 end of thick hludgeons. Santerre and the JMarquis do St. Huruffues, who 
 had already attracted notice on the 5th and Gth of October, marched with 
 drawn swords at tlieir head. Battalions of tlie national guard followed in 
 good order, to prevent tumidt by their presence. After them came women 
 and more armed men. Wavingr flacrs were inscribed M'ith the words, " Tlie 
 constitution or death." Ragged breeches were held up in the air with 
 shouts of Vivcnt Irs sans-cidolles ! Lasdy an atrocious sign was displayed 
 to add ferocity to the whimsicality of the spectacle. On the point of a pike 
 was borne a calf's heart, with this inscription : " Heart of an aristocrat." 
 
 Grief and indignation burst forth at this si^ht. The horrid emblem in- 
 stantly disappeared, but was again exhibited at the gates of the Tuileries. 
 The applause of the tribunes, the shouts of the people passing through the 
 hall, the civic songs, the confused uproar, and the silence of the anxious 
 Ahsembly composed an extraordinary scene, and at the same time an 
 afllicting one to the very deputies who viewed the multitude as an auxiliary.* 
 Why, alas! must reason prove so insufficient in such times of discord? 
 "Why did those who called in the disciplined l)arbarians of the north oblige 
 their adversaries to call in those otlicr undisciplined barbarians, who, by 
 turns merry and ferocious, abound in the heart of cities, and remain sunk in 
 depravity amid the most polished civilization ! 
 
 This scene lasted for three hours. At lengtli Santerre again came forward 
 to express to the Assembly the thanks of the people, and presented it with 
 a flair in token of irratitude and attachment. 
 
 The mob at this moment attempted to get into the garden of the Tuileries, 
 the tiatcs of wliich were closed. Numerous detachments of tlie national 
 guard surrounded tlie palace, and, extending in line from the Feuillans to 
 the river, presented an imposing front. By order of the King, the garden- 
 gate was opened. The people instantly poured in, and filed off uiuler the 
 windows of the palace and before the ranks of the national guard, without 
 any hostile demonstration, but shouting, " Down with the J^cto ! The sanS' 
 culottes for ever!" MeauAvhile some persons, speaking of the King, said, 
 '* Why does he not show jiimself ? .... AVe mean to do him no harm." 
 — The old expression. He is imposed upon, was occasionally, but rarely, 
 heard. The people, quick at catching the opinions of its leaders, had like 
 them despaired. 
 
 The crowd, moving off by the garden-gate leading to the Pont RoyaL 
 proceeded along tlie quay and through the wickets of the Louvre to the 
 Place du Carrousel. This place, now so spacious, was then intersected by 
 numerous streets. Instead of that immense court, extending from the body 
 of the palace to tlie gate and from one wing to the other, there were small 
 courts separated by walls and houses. Ancient wickets opened from each 
 of them into the Carrousel. All the avenues were crowded with people and 
 
 ' "It may be alleged in excuse that the Asseml)ly had no resource but submission, "lot 
 brave men, in similar circumstances, have, by a timely exertion of spirit, averted similar in- 
 Bolencies. When the furious anti-catholic mob was in possession of the avenues to, and 
 even lobbies of, the House of Commons in 1780, General Cosmo Gordon, a member of the 
 House, went up to the unfortunate nobleman under whose guidance they were supposed lo 
 act, and addressed him thus: 'My lord, is it your purpose to bring your rascally adlierenta 
 into the House of Commons 1 for, if so, I apprize you that the instant one of them enters, 
 I pass my sword, not through his body, but your lordship's.' The hint was sufficient, anj 
 the mob was directed to another quarter." — ^n/i's Life of Napoleon. "E. 
 
270 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 they appeared at the royal gate. They were refused admittance. Some 
 of the municipal oflicers addressed them, and appeared to have prevailed 
 upon tliem to retire. It is asserted that at this moment Santerre, comino 
 from the Assembly, where he liad stayed till the last moment to present a 
 flag, whetted the almost blunted purpose of the people, and caused the 
 cannon to be drawn up to the gate. 
 
 It was nearly four o'clock. Two municipal officers all at once ordered 
 the gate to be opened.'- The troops which were in considerable force at 
 this point, and consisted of battalions of the national guard and several de- 
 tachments of gendarmerie, were then paralyzed. The people rushed head 
 long into the court, and thence into the vestibule of the palace. Santerre, 
 threatened, it is said, by two witnesses, on account of this violation of the 
 royal residence, exclaimed, turning to the assailants, " Bear witness that 1 
 refuse to go into the King's apartments." This apostrophe did not stop the 
 mob, which had received a sufficient stimulus. They poured into every 
 part of the palace, took possession of all the staircases, and by main force 
 dragged a piece of cannon up to the first floor. At the same instant, the 
 assailants commenced an attack with swords and hatchets upon the doors 
 which were closed against them. 
 
 Louis XVI. had just at this moment sent away a great number of his 
 dangerous friends, who, without possessing the power to save, had so often 
 compromised him. They had hastened to him, but he had made them leave 
 the Tuileries, where tlieir presence would only have served to exasperate, 
 without repressing, the people. He had with him the old Marshal de 
 Mouchy Acloque, chef de baUdllon, some of the servants of his household, 
 and several trusty officers of the national guard. It was at this moment that 
 the cries of the people and the strokes of the hatchets were heard. The 
 officers of the national guard immediately surrounded him and implored 
 him to show himself, vowing to die by his side. Without hesitation, he 
 ordered the door to be opened. At that instant, the panel, driven in by a 
 violent blow, fell at his feet. It was at length opened, and a forest of pikes 
 and bayonets appeared. " Here I am !" said Louis XVI., showing himself 
 to the furious rabble. Those who surrounded him kept close to him and 
 formed a rampart of their bodies. " Pay respect to your King," they 
 exclaimed ; and the mob, which certainly had no definite purpose, relaxed 
 its intrusion. 
 
 Several voices announced a petition, and desired that it might be read. 
 Those about the King prevailed upon him to retire to a more spacious room 
 to hear this petition. The people, pleased to see their desire complied with, 
 followed the prince, whom his attendants had the good sense to place in the 
 embrasure of a window. He was made to mount a small bench ; several 
 others were set before him, and a table was added. All who had accom- 
 panied him were ranged around. Some grenadiers of the guard and officers 
 of the household arrived to increase the number of his defenders, who 
 formed a rampart, behind which he could listen Avith less danger to this 
 terrible lecture of i\\e rabble. Amidst uproar and shouts were heard the 
 oft-re])eated cries of '* No veto ! No priests ! No aristocrats ! The camp 
 near Paris !" Legendre, the butcher, stepped up, and in popular language 
 demanded tlie sanction of the decree. "This is neither the place nor the 
 moment," replied the King, with firmness ; " I will do all that the constitu- 
 
 ' AH tlie witnesses examined agreed respecting this fact, differing only as to the name d 
 Ujo municipal officers. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. -271 
 
 lion requires." Tliis resistance produced its efTect. " Vive la nation, 
 Vive la nation P^ shouted tlie assailants. "Yes," resumed Louis XVI., 
 " Jive la nation ! I am its best friend." " Well, prove it then," said one 
 of the rabble, holding before him a red cap at the point of a pike. A refusal 
 miglit have been dangerous ; and certainly in ihe situation of tlie King, 
 dignity did not consist in throwing away his life by rejecting a vain sign, 
 but in doing as he did, in bearing with firmness the assault of the multitude 
 He put the cap upon his head, and the applause was general.' As he felt 
 oppressed by the heat of the weatlier and the crowd, one of the half- 
 drunken fellows, wlio had brought with him a bottle and a glass, oiTereJ 
 him some of his drink. The King had long been apprehensive lest he 
 should be poisoned ; lie nevertheless drank without hesitation, and was 
 loudly applauded. 
 
 Meanwhile, Madame Elizabedi, who was fondly attached to her brother, 
 and who was the oidy one of tlie royal family tliat could get to him, fol- 
 lowed him from window to window, to share his danger. The people, 
 when they saw her, took her for the Queen. Shouts of "There's the Aus- 
 trian !" were raised in an alarming manner. The national grenadiers, who 
 had surrounded the princess, endeavoured to set the people riglit. " Leave 
 them," said that generous sister, "leave them in their error, and save the 
 Queen!" 
 
 The Queen, with her son and her daughter, had not been able to join her 
 royal consort. She had fled from die lower apartments, hurried to the 
 council-chamber, and could not reach tlie King on account of the crowd, 
 which fdled tlie whole palace. She was anxious to rejoin him, and 
 earncsUy begged to be led to tlie room where he was. On being dissuaded 
 from this attempt, standing bcliind the council-table, M'ith some grenadiers, 
 she watched tlie people lUe olT with a heart full of horror, and eyes swim 
 niing with tears, which slie repressed. Iler daughter M'as weeping by her 
 side ; her young son, frightened at first, had soon recovered his cheerful- 
 ness, and smiled in the happy ignorance of liis age. A red cap had been 
 handed to him, and the Queen had put it on his head. Santcrre recom- 
 mended respect to tlie people, and spoke cheeringly to the princess. He 
 repeated to her the accustomed and unfortunately useless expression, " Ma- 
 dam, you are imposed upon ; you are imposed upon." Then, seeing the 
 young prince encumbered with the red cap, " The boy is stifling," said he, 
 and relieved him from that ridiculous head-dress. 
 
 Some of the deputies, on receiving intelligence of the danger of the 
 palace, had hastened to the King, addressed the people, and enjoined respect. 
 Others had repaired to the assembly, to inform it of what was passing, and 
 
 • " Whiki we were leaJing a somewhat idle life, the 20th of June arrived. We met that 
 morning, as usual, in a coiree-room in Rue St. Honore. On going out, wc saw a mob ap- 
 proaching, which Bonaparte computed at five or six thousand men, all in rags, and armed 
 with every sort of weapon, vociferating the grossest abuse, and proceeding with rapid paco 
 towards the Tuileries. 'Let us follow that rabble,' said Bonaparte to me. We got before 
 them, and went to walk in the gardens, on the terrace overlooking the water. J>om thia 
 Btation he beheld the disgraceful occurrences that ensued. I should fail in attempting to 
 depict the surprise and indignation roused within him. He could not comprehend such 
 weakness and forbearance. But when the King showed himself at one of the windows 
 fronting the garden, with the red cap which one of the mob had just placed on his hcaj, 
 Bonaparte could no longer restrain his indignation. ' What madness !' exclaimed he; * how 
 could they allow these scoundrels to enter] They ought to have blown four or five hundred 
 of them into the air with cannon. The rest would then have taken to their heels.' " 
 Bourrienne^s Memoirs. E. 
 
27ii HISTORY OF THE 
 
 the agitation there was increased by the indignation of the right side, and 
 the eiforts of the left to palliate this invasion of the palace of the monarch. 
 A deputation had been decreed "wi'hout discussion, and twenty-four mem- 
 bers had set out to surround the King. It had been moreover decreed that 
 the deputation should be renewed every half-hour, in order that the Assem* 
 bly miglit be instantly apprised of everything that might occur. The de- 
 puties who were sent spoke alternately, hoisted upon the shoulders of the 
 grenadiers. Petion afterwards made his appearance, and was accused of 
 having come too late. He declared that it was half-past four before he 
 heard of the attack made at four ; that it had taken him half an hour to o-ei 
 to the palace, and that it was not until a long time after this he could over- 
 come the obstacles which separated him from the King, so that he had been 
 prevented from reaching his presence earlier than half-past five. On ap- 
 proaching the prince, " Fear nothing, sire," said he, " you are in the midst 
 of your people." Louis XVI., taking the hand of a grenadier, placed it 
 upon his heart, saying, " Feel whether it beats quicker than usual." This 
 noble answer was warmly applauded. Petion at length mounted an arm- 
 chair, and addressing the crowd, said that, after laying its remonstrances 
 before the King, it had now nothing further to do but to retire peaceably 
 and in such a manner as not to sully that day. Some persons who wera 
 present assert that Petion said its just remonstrances. This expression, 
 however, would prove nothing but the necessity for not offending the mob. 
 Santerre reinforced him with his influence, and the palace was soon cleared. 
 The rabble retired in a peaceful and orderly manner. It was then about 
 seven in the evening. 
 
 The King was immediately joined by the Queen, his sister, and his child- 
 ren, shedding a flood of tears. Overcome by the scene, the King had still 
 the red cap on his head. He now perceived it for the first time during seve- 
 ral hours, and flung it from him with indignation. At this moment, fresh 
 deputies arrived to learn the state of the palace. The Queen, going over it 
 with them, showed them the shattered doors and the broken furniture, and 
 expressed her keen vexation at such outrages. Merlin de Thionville,'- one 
 of the stanchest republicans, was one of the deputies present. The Queen 
 perceived tears in his eyes. " You weep," said she to him, " to see the King 
 and his family treated so cruelly by a people whom he has always wished to 
 render happy." — "It is true, madam," replied Merlin; " I weep over the 
 misfortunes of a beautiful, tender-hearted woman and mother of a family; 
 but do not mistake ; there is not one of my tears for the King or the 
 Queen — I hate Kings and Queens."! 
 
 Next day general indignation prevailed among the partisans of the court, 
 who considered it as outraged, and among the constitutionalists, who re- 
 
 * " Antoine Merlin de Thionville, a bailifT and a municipal ofHcer, was deputed by the 
 Moselle to the legislature, where he, Bazire, and Chabot, formed, what was then called the 
 triumvirate, which, during the whole session, made it a point daily to denounce all the minis- 
 ters and placemen. On the 10th of August he signalized himself at the head of the ene- 
 mies of the court. He strongly objected to the motion to allow counsel for the King, and 
 warmly urged his execution. During the contest which led to Robespierre's fall, he main- 
 tained the most complete silence, and, after the victory, joined the conquerors. He was 
 afterwards appointed president of the Convention. In 1797 he was denounced to the Coun- 
 cil of Five Hundred as a peculator, for he had at that period immense lanJed property, 
 whereas, before the Revolution he had none; but the denunciation failed. In 1798 Merlin 
 obtained an appointment in the management of the general post." — Biograjphie Mo* 
 Heme. E. 
 
 ■{• Memoires de Madame Campan, torao ii., p, 215. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 273 
 
 gnrded this invasion as a violation of tlie laws and of the public tranquillity. 
 The disturbance liad been alanninir, but now it was greatly exaggerated. It 
 was alleged to have been ^ plan for murdering the King, and it was even 
 asserted that this plan had miscarried solely from the effect of a lucky acci- 
 dent. Hence, by a natural reaction, the popular opinion of the day was in 
 favour of the royal family, who, on the preceding, had been exposed to so 
 many dangers and outrages ; and the supposed authors of the assault be- 
 came objects of unqualified censure. 
 
 Sad faces wore seen in the Assembly. Several deputies inveighed 
 strongly against the events of the preceding day. M. Bigot proposed a law 
 against armed petitions, and against the custom of suffering bodies of men 
 lo lile off through the hall, 'though there already existed laws on this 
 head, they were renewed by a decree. M. Daveirlioult moved for proceed- 
 ings against the disturbers. " Proceedings," exclaimed one of the members, 
 *' against forty thousand men !" — " Well, then," he replied, " if it is impos- 
 sible to distinguish among forty thousand men, punish the guard, which did 
 not defend itself; or, at least do something." 
 
 The ministers tlien entered, to present a report on what had happ: ned, 
 and a discussion arose on the nature of the circumstances. A member of 
 the right, observing that Vergniaud's testimony was above suspicion, aiid 
 that he iiad been an eye-witness of the affair, called upon him to relate 
 what he had seen. Vergniaud, however, declined to rise at this appeal, but 
 maintained silence. The boldest of the left side, nevertheless, shook off 
 constraint aiul took courage towards the conclusion of the sitting. They 
 even ventured lo propose that an examination should be instituted whether 
 the vc/o was necessary in certain peculiar circumstances ; but this motion 
 was thrown out by a great majority. 
 
 Towards evening, a fresh scene similar to that of the preceding day was 
 apprehended. The people, on retiring, had said that they should come 
 again, and it was believed that they would keep their word. But, whether 
 this was only a remnant of the agitation of the day before, or whether for the 
 moment tliis new attempt was disapproved of by the leaders of the popular 
 party, it was very easily stopped; and Petion repaired in great haste to the 
 palace, to inform tlie King that order was restored, and that the people, 
 having laid l':eir remonstrances before him, were now tranquil and satisfied. 
 ♦'That is not true," said the King. — "Sire." — . . . — "Be silent," — "It 
 befits not the magistrate of the people to be silent, when he does his duty 
 and speaks the truth." — "The tranquillity of Paris rests on your head." — "I 
 know my duty: I shall perform it." — "Enough: go and perform it. Retire." 
 
 The King, notwithstanding his extreme good nature, was liable to fits of 
 ill-humour, which the courtiers termed coup de boutoir. The sight of Pe- 
 tion, who was accused of having encouraged the scenes of the preceding day, 
 exasperated him, and produced the conversation which we have just quoted. 
 It was soon known to all Paris. Two proclamations were immediately is- 
 sued, one by the King, the other by the municipality: and hostilities seemed 
 to be commencing between these two authorities. 
 
 The municipality told the citizens to be peaceable, to pay respect to the 
 King, to respect the National Assembly and to make it he respected; not to 
 assemble in arms, because it was forbidden by the laws, and, above all, to 
 beware of evil-disposed persons who were striving to excite fresh commo- 
 tions. 
 
 It was actually rumoured that the court was endeavouring to excite a 
 second insurrection of the people, that it might have occasion to s»veei) them 
 
 VOL. I. — 35 
 
274 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 away with artillery. Thus the palace supposed the existence of a plan for 
 a murder — the fauxbourgs that a plan existed for a massacre. 
 
 The King said, "The French will not have learned without pain that a 
 multitude, led astray by certain factious persons, has entered by force of 
 arms the habitation of the King. . . . The King has opposed to the threats 
 and the insults of the factious nothing but his conscience and his love for the 
 public weal. 
 
 "He knows not where will be the limit at which they will stop; but to 
 what excesses soever they proceed, they shall never wring from him a con- 
 sent to anything that he deems contrary to the public interest. 
 
 "If those who wish to overthrow the monarchy have need of another 
 crime, they have it in their power to commit it. 
 
 "The King enjoins all the administrative bodies and municipalities to pro- 
 vide for the safety of persons and property." 
 
 These opposite sentiments corresponded with the two opinions which 
 were then formed. All those whom the conduct of the court had driven to 
 despair were but the more exasperated against it, and the more determined 
 to thwart its designs by all possible means. The popular societies, the mu- 
 nicipalities, the pikemen, a portion of the national guard, and the left side 
 of the Assembly, were influenced by the proclamation of the mayor of Paris, 
 and resolved to be prudent no farther than was necessary to avoid being 
 mowed down by grape-shot without any decisive result. Still, uncertain as 
 to the means to be employed, they waited, full of the same distrust, and 
 even aversion. Their first step was to oblige the ministers to attend the As- 
 sembly, and give account of the precautions which they had taken on two 
 essential points : 
 
 1. On the religious disturbances excited by the priests ; 
 
 2. On the safety of the capital, which the camp of twenty thousand men, 
 refused by the King, was destined to cover. 
 
 Those who were called aristocrats, the sincere constitutionalists, part of 
 the national guards, several of the provinces, and especially the departmental 
 directories spoke out on this occasion, and in an energetic manner. The laws 
 having been violated, they had all the advantage of speech, and they used it 
 without reserve, A great number of addresses were sent to the King, At 
 Rouen and at Paris a petition was drawn up and supported by twenty thou- 
 sand signatures. This petition v/as associated in the minds of the people 
 with that already signed by eight thousand Parisians against the camp below 
 Paris. Lasdy, legal proceedings were ordered by the department against 
 Petion, the mayor, and Manuel, '-' prociireur of the commune, who were both 
 accused of having favoured, by their dilatory conduct, the irruption of the 
 20th of June. At this moment, the behaviour of the King during that trying 
 day was spoken of with admiration. There was a general change of opinion 
 respecting his character, and people reproached themselves with having 
 charged it with weakness. But it was soon perceived that the passive courage 
 which resists is not that which anticipates dangers, instead of awaiting them 
 witli resignation. 
 
 The constitutional party fell anew to \vork with the utmost activity. All 
 
 • "Manuel was born at Montargis in 1751. On the trial of the King, he voted for im* 
 prisonment and banishment in the event of peace. When the Queen's trial came on, he was 
 Bummoned as a witness against her, but only expressed admiration of her fortitude, and pity 
 fur her misfortunes. In November, 1793, Manuel was condemned to death by the revolu- 
 tionary tribunal, and executed. He was the author of several works, and among others, of 
 • Letters on the Revolution,' " — Scott^s Life of Napoleon. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 275 
 
 those who had siirroundecl Lafayette to concert with him the letter of the 
 16th of June, again united for the purpose of taking some signal step. La- 
 fayette had felt deep indignation on learning what had occurred at the palace: 
 and he was found to be quite wiUing to assist. Several addresses from his 
 regiments, expressing similar indignation, were sent to him. Whether these 
 addresses were concerted or spontaneous, he put a stop to them by an order 
 of the day, in which he promised to express, in person, the sentiments of 
 the whole army. He resolved, therefore, to go to Paris, and to repeat to the 
 legislative body what he had written to it on the IGth of June. He arranged 
 the matter with Luckner, wlio was as easily led as an old warrior who has 
 never been out of his camp.'- He induced him to write a letter addressed to 
 the King, expressing the same sentiments that he was himself about to pro- 
 claim viva voce at the bar of the legislative body. He then took all requisite 
 measures so that his absence might not be detrimental to the military opera- 
 tions, and, tearing himself from his attached soldiers, he hastened to Paris 
 to confront tlie greatest dangers. 
 
 Lafayette reckoned upon his faithful national guard, and on imparting a 
 new impulse by means of it. He reckoned upon the court, which he could 
 not believe to be his foe, when he came to sacrifice himself for it. Having 
 proved his chivalrous love of liberty, he was now resolved to prove his sin- 
 cere attaclmicnt to the King; and, in his heroic enthusiasm, it is probable 
 that his heart was not insensible to the glory of this twofold self-devotion. 
 He arrived on the morning of the 28lh of June. The news soon spread, 
 and it was everywhere repeated witli surprise and curiosity that General La- 
 fayette was in Paris. 
 
 Before his arrival, the Assembly had been agitated by a great number of 
 contrary petitions. Those of Rouen, Havre, the Ain, the Seine and Oise, 
 the Pas do Calais, and the Aisne, condemned the outrages of the 20th of 
 June. Those of Arras and of I'Herault seemed almost to approve of them. 
 There liad been read, on the one hand, Luckner's letter to the King, and, on 
 the other, atrocious placards against him. The reading of these difierent 
 papers had produced excitement for several preceding days. 
 
 On tlic 28th, a considerable concourse had repaired to the Assembly 
 hoping tliat Lafayette, whose intentions were yet a secret, would make his 
 appearance there. About half-past one o'clock, a message was actually 
 broujxht, statinn- that he desired to be admitted to the bar. He was receivea 
 with plaudits by the right side, but with silence by the tribunes and the left 
 side. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said he, " I must in the first place assure you that, in con- 
 sequence of arrangements concerted between Marshal Luckner and myself, 
 my presence here cannot in any way compromise either the success of our 
 arms, or the safety of the army which I have the honour to command." 
 
 The general then explained the motives of his coming. It had been as- 
 serted that his letter was not written by himself. He came to avow it, and, 
 to make this avowal, he came from amidst his camp, where he was sur 
 rounded by the love of his soldiers. A still stronger reason had urged him 
 to this step. The 20lh of June had excited his indignation and that of his 
 army, which had presented to him a multitude of addresses. He had put a 
 stop to them, and solemnly engaged to be the organ of its sentiments to the 
 National Assembly, "The soldiers," he added, *' are already asking thcm- 
 
 • " Marshal Luckner blamed extremely the intention Lafayette announced of repairing to 
 Paris, * because,' said he, ' the sans culottes will cut olT his head.' But as this was the sole 
 objection he made, the general resolved to set out alone." — Lafayettis Memoirs.. E. 
 
276 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 pelves if it is really the cause of liberty and of the constitution that they aw 
 defending." He besought the National Assembly, 
 
 1. To prosecute the instigators of the 20th of June ; 
 
 2. To suppress a sect which grasps at the national sovereignty, and whose 
 public debates leave no doubt respecting the atrocity of its designs ; 
 
 3. Lastly, to enforce respect for the authorities, and to give the armies 
 the assurance that the constitution shall suffer no injury at home, while they 
 are spilling their blood to defend it abroad. 
 
 The president replied that the Assembly would uphold the law which had 
 been sworn to, and that it would examine his petition. He was invited to 
 the honours of the sitting. 
 
 The general proceeded to take his seat on the benches of the right. Ker- 
 saint, the depyty, observed that his proper place was on the petitioners' 
 bench. Cries of "Yes!" "Nol" burst from all parts. The general 
 modestly rose and removed to the petitioners' bench. Numerous plaudits 
 accompanied him to this new place. Guadet* was the first who spoke, and 
 resorting to a clever circumlocution, he asked if the enemy was vanquished, 
 and the country delivered, since M. de Lafayette was in Paris. " No," he 
 exclaimed in reply, " the country is not delivered ; our situation is not 
 changed ; and yet the general of one of our armies is in Paris !" He should 
 not inquire, he continued, whether M. de Lafayette, who saw in the French 
 people nothing but a factious mob surrounding and threatening the authori- 
 ties, was not himself surrounded by a staff which was circumventing him ; 
 but he should observe to M. de Lafayette that he was trespassing against the 
 constitution by making himself the organ of an army legally incapable of 
 deliberating, and that probably he was also trespassing against the authority 
 of the military powers by coming to Paris without being authorized by the 
 minister at war. 
 
 Guadet, in consequence, proposed that the minister at war should be 
 called upon to state whether he had given leave of absence to M. de La- 
 fayette, and that, moreover, the extraordinary commission should report 
 upon the question Avhether a general had a right to address the Assembly on 
 purely political subjects. 
 
 Ramond came forward to answer Guadet. He set out with a very natural 
 observation, and one that is very frequently applicable, that the interpretation 
 of the laws is liable to great variations according to circumstances. " Never," 
 said he, " have we been so scrupulous relative to the existence of the right 
 of petition. When, but very lately, an armed multitude presented itself, it 
 was not asked what was its errand ; it was not reproached with infringing 
 by the parade of arms the independence of the Assembly; but when M. de 
 Lafayette, who is for America and for Europe the standard of liberty — when 
 he presents himself, suspicions are awakened ! . . If there are two weights 
 and two measures, if there are two ways of considering things, let it be 
 allowable to make some distinction in favour of the eldest son of liberty !" 
 
 Ramond then moved to refer the petition to the extraordinary commission, 
 
 • " M. E. Gaudet, a lawyer, presiJent of the criminal tribunal of the Gironde, was deputed 
 by that department to the legislature, and was looked up to by the Girondists, as one of their 
 leaders. He voted for the death of Louis, but for delaying his execution. Involved in the 
 fall of his party, he was executed at Bordeaux in 1794, in the thirty-fifth year of his age. 
 When he was led to the scaffold, he wanted to harangue the people, but the roll of the drums 
 drowned his voice, and nothing could be heard but the words, ' People, behold the sole 
 resource of tyrants ! They drown the voices of free men that they may commit their crimes, 
 f raudet's father, who was seventy years old, his aunt, and his brother, perished a month aftel 
 lum by the sentence of the military committee at Bordeaux." — Biographic Moderne. £• 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 277 
 
 for the purpose of examining, not the conduct of Lafayette, but the petition 
 iitsc4f. After a great tumult and two divisions, Ramond's motion was carried. 
 Lafayette left the Assembly surrounded by a numerous train of deputies and 
 6oldiers of the national guard, all of them his partisans and his old com- 
 panions in arms. 
 
 This was the decisive moment for the court, for himself, and for the 
 popidar party. He repaired to the palace. The most abusive expressions 
 were repeated around him among the groups of the courtiers. The King 
 and Queen received with coldness the man who came to devote himself for 
 them.'- Lafayette withdrew, mortified at the disposition which he had per- 
 ceived, not for his own sake, but for the sake of the royal family. On leav- 
 ing the Tuileries, a numerous concourse escorted him to his residence, 
 shouting " Long live Lafayette !" and even planted a May before his gate. 
 These liemonstrations of old attachment touched the general and intimidated 
 the Jacobins. But it was requisite to take advantage of these feelings of 
 attachment and to rouse them still more, in order to render them efficacious. 
 Some Oilicers of the national guard, particularly devoted to the court, applied 
 to it, in quiring how they ought to act. The King and Queen were both of 
 opinion that they ought not to second M. Lafayette.t He thus found him- 
 self forsaken by the only portion of the national guard from which he could 
 still have expected support. Anxious, nevertheless, to serve the King, in 
 spite of himself, he consulted his friends. But these were not agreed. 
 Some, and particularly Lally Tollendal, were for acting promptly against the 
 Jacobins, and attacking them by main force in their club. Others, all mem- 
 bers of the department and of the Assembly, supporting themselves con- 
 stantly by the authority of the law, and having no resources, but in it, would 
 not advise its violation, and opposed any open attack. 
 
 Lafayette, nevertheless, preferred the boldest of these two courses, and 
 appointed a rendezvous for his partisans, for the purpose of going with them 
 to drive the Jacobins from their place of meeting and walling up the doors. 
 But though the place for assembling was fixed, few attended, and Lafayette 
 found it impossible to act. Whilst, however, he was deeply mortified to 
 perceive that he was so ill supported, the Jacobins, ignorant of the defection 
 of his partisans, were seized with a panic and abandoned their club. They 
 ran to Dumouriez,:|: who had not yet set out for the army, and urged him to 
 put himself at their head and to march against Lafayette ; but their applica- 
 tion was not complied with. Lafayette staid another day in Paris, amidst 
 denunciations, threats, and h-'its of assassination, and at length departed, 
 lamenting the uselessness of his self-devotion and the fatal obstinacy of the 
 
 * "The debate was not closed, when Lafayette repaired to the King. The royal family 
 were assembled together, and the King and Queen both repeated that they were convinced 
 there was no safety for them but in the constitution. Never did Louis appear to express 
 himself with more thorough conviction than on this occasion. He added that he considered 
 it would be very fortunate if the Austrians were defeated. It so happened that the King waa 
 next day to review four thousand men of the national guard. Lafayette asked permission to 
 accompany him, apprizing him, at the same time, of his intention, as soon as his majesty had 
 retired, of addressing the troops. But the court did everything in its power to thwart La- 
 fayette, and Petion the mayor countermanded the review an hour before daybreak."- 
 Lafai/ette's Memoirs. E. 
 
 ■f See Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 224, a letter from M. Lally to the King of Prussia, 
 and all the historians, 
 
 i " Dumouriez survived the troubles of the Revolution rriany years. He spent some time 
 ^n Germany ; and lived in retirement latterly at Turville Park, near Henley-upon-Thames, 
 where he (]ied March 14, 1823, in his eighty-fifth year. He was a man of pleasing manners, 
 aiid lively conversation." — ScoU's Life of Napoleon. E. 
 
S78 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 court. And yet this same man, so completely forsaken when he had come 
 to expose his own life to save the King, has been accused of having betrayed 
 him ! The writers of the court have asserted that his means were ill com- 
 bined. No doubt it was easier and safer, at least in appearance, to employ 
 eighty thousand Prussians ; but in Paris, and with the determination not to 
 call in foreigners, what more could he do than put himself at tJie head of the 
 national guard, and overawe the Jacobins, by dispersing them 1 
 
 Lafayette set out with the design of still serving the King, and contriving, 
 if possible, means for his quitting Paris. He wrote a letter to the Assem- 
 bly, in which he repeated with still greater energy all that he had himself 
 said ajxainst what he called the factious. 
 
 No sooner was the popular party relieved from the fears occasioned by 
 the presence and the plans of the general, than it continued its attacks upon 
 the court, and persisted in demanding a strict account of the means which 
 it was adopting for preserving the territory. It was already known, though 
 the executive power had not yet made any communication on the subject to 
 the Assembly, that the Prussians had broken the neutrality, and that they 
 were advancing by Coblentz, to the number of eighty thousand men, all old 
 soldiers of the great Frederick, and commanded by the Duke of Brunswick, 
 a celebrated general.* Luckner, who had too few troops and could not 
 fully rely on the Belgians, had been obliged to retire upon Lille and Valen- 
 ciennes. An officer, in retreating from Courtray, had burned the suburbs 
 of the town, and it was conceived that the aim of this cruel measure was to 
 alienate the Belgians. The government did nothing to reinforce the armies, 
 which amounted at the utmost, on the three frontiers, to two hundred and 
 thirty thousand men. It resorted to none of those mighty schemes which 
 rouse the zeal and the enthusiasm of a nation. The enemy, in short, might 
 be in Paris in six weeks. 
 
 The Queen reckoned upon this result, and mentioned it in confidence to 
 one of her ladies. She had the route of the emigrants and the Kincf of 
 Prussia. She knew that on such a day they would be at Verdun, on such 
 a one at Lille, and that they were to lay siege to the latter place. That un- 
 fortunate princess hoped, she said, to be delivered in a month.f Why, 
 alas ! did she not believe the sincere friends who represented to her the in- 
 conveniences of foreign aid, and told her that this aid would be useless ; 
 that it would arrive soon enougli to compromise, but not soon enough to 
 save her ! Why did she not believe her own fears on this point and the 
 gloomy forebodings which sometimes overwhelmed her ! Why, in short, 
 did she not spare herself a fault, and many misfortunes ! 
 
 We have seen that the measure to whicli the national party clung most 
 tenaciously was a reserve of twenty thousand men below Paris. The King, 
 
 * "Charles William Ferdinand, Dul<e of Brunswick, was born in 1735. He was the 
 eldest son of the reigning duke and a sister of Frederick the Great. The seven years' war 
 afforded him the first opportunity of cultivating his military talents. In 1756 he decided the 
 victory of Crefeld, and took the most active part in all the enterprises of his uncle Ferdinand. 
 In 1764 he married the Princess Augusta of England. High expectations were entertained 
 of him, when the wars of the French Revolution broke out. The duke received the chief 
 command of the Austrian and Prussian armies, and issued at Coblentz, in 1792, the famous 
 manifesto dravpn up in a haughty style by a Frenchman, De Limon. The duke considered 
 Ihe expressions too strong, and some of the severest passages were expunged. He continued 
 ♦o labour for the welfare of his country until 1806, when he was placed at the head of the 
 Prussian army. He was mortally wounded in that year, and died at Ottensen, netf 
 iNItona." — Encyclopscdia Americana. E. 
 
 + See Madame Cnmpan, tome ii,, p. 230. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 279 
 
 IS we have shown, was adverse to this plan. He was summoned, in the 
 person of his ministers, to state what precautions had been taken in the 
 place of those proposed in the decree to which he had refused his sanction. 
 He answered by proposing a new project, which consisted in directing upon 
 Soissons a reserve of forty-two battalions of national volunteers, to supply 
 the place of the old reserve, which had been exhausted in completing the 
 two principal armies. This was as nearly as possible the first decree ; with 
 this difference that the camp of reserve should be formed between Paris and 
 the frontiers, and not near Paris itself. This plan was received with mur- 
 murs and referred to the military committee. 
 
 Several departments and municipalities, excited by their correspondence 
 with Paris, had subsequently resolved to carry into execution the decree 
 for a camp of twenty thousand men, though it was not sanctioned. The 
 departments of the Bouches du Rhone, la Gironde, and I'Herault, set tlie 
 first example ; which was soon followed by others. Such was the com- 
 mencement of the insurrection. 
 
 As soon as intelligence of these spontaneous levies was received, the 
 Assembly, modifying the plan of the forty-two new battalions proposed by 
 the Kins', decreed that the battalions, whose zeal should have led them to 
 march before they were legally called upon, should pass through Paris for 
 the purpose of being inscribed at the municipality of that city ; that they 
 should then proceed to Soissons, to be there encamped ; and lastly, that 
 those who should happen to be in Paris on the l4thof July, the anniversary 
 of the Federation, should attend that national solemnity. It had not been 
 held in 1791, on account of the flight to Varennes, and it was determined 
 that it should be celebrated in 1792 with eclat. The Assembly added that, 
 immediately after this festival, the federalists should march off to the place 
 of their destination. 
 
 This was at once authorizing insurrection, and reviving, with some trifling 
 variation, the unsanctioned decree. The only difl'erence was that the 
 federalists should merely pass through Paris. But the grand point was to 
 bring them thither; and, when once there, a thousand circumstances might 
 arise to detain them. The decree was immediately sent to the King, and 
 sanctioned on the folloAving day. 
 
 To this important measure was added another. A distrust was felt of 
 part of the national guards, and particularly of the staffs, which, after the 
 example of the departmental directories, the nearer they approached in rank 
 to superior authority the more they were disposed in its favour. It was 
 especially the national guard of Paris at which the blow was aimed ; but it 
 could not be struck directly, and therefore it was decreed that all the staffs 
 in towns containing upwards of fifty thousand inhabitants should be dissolved 
 and re-elected. In the ao^itated state in which France then was, with the 
 constandy increasing influence which this agitation insured to the most 
 ardent spirits, this re-election could not fail to bring forward persons devoted 
 to the popular and republican party. 
 
 These were important measures, carried by main force, in opposition to 
 the right side and to the court. Yet all this did not appear to the patriots 
 to fortify them sufficiently against the imminent dangers by which they con- 
 ceived themselves to be threatened. Forty thousand Prussians, and as many 
 A.ustrians and Sardinians, were approaching our frontiers. A court, appa- 
 rently in concert with the enemy, resorted to no means for augmenting the 
 wmies and exciting the nation, but on the contrary employed the veto to 
 thwart the measures of the legislative body, and the civil list to secure par- 
 
2S0 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 asans in the interior. Lastly, there was a general, who was not supposed 
 to be capable of uniting with the emigrants to deliver up France, but who 
 was seen to be disposed to support the court against the people. AU these 
 circumstances alarmed and deeply agitated the public mind. " The country 
 is in danger !" was the general cry. But how was that danger to be pre- 
 vented? There lay the difficulty. People were not even agreed respect- 
 ing the causes. The constitutionalists and the partisans of the court, as 
 much terrified as the patriots themselves, imputed the dangers to tlie fac- 
 tious only. They trembled only for royalty, and saw no peril but in dis- 
 cussion. The patriots, trembling for a contrary reason, beheld this peril 
 in invasion alone, and laid the whole blame of it on the court, its refusals, 
 its tardiness, and its underhand proceedings. Petitions continued to pour 
 in. Some attributed every thing to the Jacobins, others to the court, 
 designated alternately by the appellations of the palace, the executive power, 
 and the veto. The Assembly listened to and referred them all to the extra- 
 ordinary commission of twelve, appointed long before to seek and propose 
 means for saving the country. 
 
 Its plan was awaited with impatience. Meanwhile all the walls were 
 covered with threatening placards ; the public papers, not less bold tlian the 
 posting bills, talking of nothing but forfeiture of the crown and dethrone- 
 ment. This was the topic of general conversation, and no moderation 
 seemed to be observed but in the Assembly. There the attacks against 
 royalt}'' were yet only indirect. It had been proposed, for example, to sup- 
 press the veto for decrees of circumstance ; observations had several times 
 been made on the civil list, and on the culpable use that was made of it; and 
 it had been suggested that it shovdd either be reduced, or that a public ac- 
 count of its expenditure should be demanded. 
 
 At length, the commission of twelve proposed its measures. The court 
 had never refused to comply with the recommendations of the Assembly 
 materially to augment the means of defence. It could not have done so 
 without compromising itself too openly ; and, besides, it could not much 
 dread the numerical increase of armies which it believed to be in a state of 
 complete disorganization. 
 
 The popular party desired, on the contrary, some of those extraordinary 
 means, wliich indicate a great resolution, and which frequently confer victory 
 on the most desperate cause. The commission of twelve devised such, and 
 proposed to the Assembly the following plan : 
 
 When the danger should become extreme, the legislative body was itself 
 to declare it by this solemn form of expression : The country is in 
 dansrer. 
 
 After this declaration, all the local authorities, the councils of the com- 
 munes, those of the districts and departments, and the Assemblv itself, as 
 the highest of the authorities, were to be permanent and to sit without in- 
 terruption. All the citizens, under the severest penalties, were to deliver to 
 the authorities the arms which they possessed, with a view to their suitable 
 distribution. All the men, old and young, fit for service, were to be enrolled 
 in the national guards. Some were to proceed to the seats of the different 
 authorities of districts or departments ; others to march whithersoever the 
 exigencies of the country required, either at home or abroad. Those only 
 should be expected to appear in uniform who were able to defray the ex- 
 pense of it. The pay of volunteers was to be given to all tlie national 
 guards who should be removed from their homes. The authorities were to 
 1)0 directed to provide themselves with military stores. Any sign of rebellion, 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 2S1 
 
 wilfully displayed, was to be punished with death. Every cockade, every 
 flag, was to be reputed seditious, excepting the tricoloured cockade and Hag. 
 
 According to this plan, the whole nation would be on the alert and in 
 arms. It would possess the means of deliberating and fighting at every 
 point and at every moment : and would be able to dispense witli tlie govern- 
 ment and to make amends for its inactivity. That aimless agitation of tlie 
 popular masses would be regulated and directed. If, in short, after this 
 appeal, tlie French should fail to respond to it, the Assembly could not be 
 expected to do any more for a nation wliich would not do anything for itself. 
 TJiis plan gave rise, as might naturally be expected, to a most vehement 
 discussion. 
 
 Pastoret, '■ tlie deputy, read tlic preliminary report. It satisfied no one; 
 imputing faults to all, balancing some by others ; and not fixing in a positive 
 manner the means of parrying tlic public dangers. After him, Jean de Bry 
 explained clearly and with moderation the plan of tlie commission. The 
 discussion, once commenced, soon became a mere exchange of recrimina- 
 tions. It aflbrdcd scope for those impetuous imaginations, which rush 
 headlong into extreme measures. The great law of the public welfare, that 
 is to say, tlic dictatorship — in other words, the power of doing everything, 
 with tlic chance of using it cruelly but energetically — that power which 
 could by right be decreed only in the Convention, was nevertheless proposed 
 in the Legislative. 
 
 M. Delaunay of Angers proposed to the Assembly to declare that, till the 
 removal of tlie danger, it would consult only the imperative and supreme 
 law of tJie puliViC iccJfare. This would have been, by an abstract and mys- 
 terious formula, evidently to abolish royalty and to declare the Assembly 
 absolute sovereign. M. Delaunay said that the Revolution was not com- 
 pleted ; that people were mistaken if they thought so ; and that it was right 
 to keep fixed huvs for the Revolution saved and not the Revolution to be 
 saved. He said, in short, all that is usually said in favour of the dictator- 
 ship, tlie idea of which always presents itself in moments of danger. The 
 answer of the deputies of the right side was natural. " They should vio- 
 late," they said, "the oaths taken to the constitution, by creating an 
 authority that would absorb the regulated and established powers." Their 
 adversaries replied, by saying that the example of violation was already 
 giA'en, and that they ought not to suffer themselves to be anticipated and 
 surprised without defence. " But, prove then," rejoined the partisans of 
 the court, " that this example has been given, that the constitution has been 
 betrayed." This challenge was answered by fresh accusations against the 
 court, and these charges were repelled in their turn by recriminations against 
 agitators. " You are factious men." — " You are traitors." Such was the 
 reciprocal and everlasting reproach — such the question to be resolved. 
 
 So violent did M. Jaucour deem the proposal, that he was for referring it 
 to the Jacobins. M. Isnard, with whose ardour it harmonized, urged that 
 it should be taken into consideration, and that the speech of M. Delaunay 
 should be sent to the departments, to counterpoise that of M. Pastoret, 
 
 • "Pierre Pastoret, born at Marseilles in 1756, was an advocate before the Revolution, 
 which he cmliraccd with ardour. Having luckily survived the reign of terror, he was in 
 1795 delegated from Var to the Council of Five Hundred, where he became one of th3 
 firmest defenders of the Clichyan party. In 1S04 he was appointed professor of the laws 
 ot man and nations, in the college of France; and vi-as made a member of the Institute and 
 the Legion of Honour. He was the author of several works, both in prose and verse, 
 written with eloquence and perspicuity " — Biographic Moderne. E. 
 
 VOL. I. — 36 
 
282 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 which was but a dose of opium given to a patient hi the agonies of 
 death. 
 
 M. de Vaublanc succeeded m obtaining a hearing. He said that the con- 
 stitution could save itself by the constitution ; that the plan of M. Jean de 
 Bry was a proof of this ; that it was right to print the speech of M. De- 
 launay, if they so pleased, but at any rate not to send it to the departments ; 
 and that they ought to return to the proposal of the commission. The dis* 
 cussion was accordingly adjourned till the 3d of July. 
 
 One deputy had not yet spoken. This was Vergniaud. A member of 
 the Gironde, and its most eloquent orator, he was nevertheless independent. 
 Whether from thoughdessness or from real elevation, he seemed to be above 
 the passions of his friends ; and, in sharing tlieir patriotic ardour, he did 
 not always share their prepossessions and their vehemence.* When he had 
 made up his mind upon a question, he carried along Avith him by his elo- 
 quence and a certain acknowledged impartiality, that floating portion of the 
 Assembly, which Mirabeau had formerly hurried away by his reasoning 
 and his warmth. AVavering masses are everywhere decided by talents and 
 reason.t 
 
 It had been announced that he would speak on the 3d of July. An im- 
 mense concourse had assembled to hear this distinguished orator on a ques- 
 tion which was regarded as decisive. Accordingly, he did speak, and first 
 drew a sketch of the state of France. " If," said he,± " one did not beheve 
 in the imperishable love of the people for liberty, one would doubt whether 
 the Revolution retrogrades or whether it is reaching its term. Our armies 
 of the North advanced into Belgium, and all at once they fell back. The 
 theatre of war is transferred to our territory, and we shall have left the un- 
 fortunate Belgians nothing but the remembrance of the conflagrations that 
 lighted our retreat. At the same time, a formidable army of Prussians is 
 threatening the Rhine, though we had been taught to hope that their pro- 
 gress would not be so rapid. 
 
 " How happens it that this moment should have been chosen for the dis- 
 missal of the popular ministers, for breaking the chain of their labours, for 
 committing the empire to inexperienced hands, and for rejecting the useful 
 ni3asures which we have deemed it our duty to propose ? . . Can it be true 
 that a dread is felt of our triumphs ? Is it the blood of Coblentz or yours, 
 that there is a desire to spare ? Is there a wish to reign over forsaken towns 
 
 • "Vergniaud was an indolent man, and required to be stimulated ; but when once fairly 
 excited, his eloquence was true, forcible, penetrating, and sincere." — Dumont. E. 
 
 " I do not like Vergniaud, because he disdains men, does not put any restraint on himself 
 in his intercourse with them, and has not employed his talents with the ardour of a soul 
 devoted by the love of the public good, and with the tenacity of a diligent mind," — MadaiM 
 Roland's Memoirs. E. 
 
 Vergniaud was born at Limoges in 1759. He projected the decree which pronounced tho 
 suspension of the King, and the formation of the National Convention. He filled the chair 
 on the day of Louis's sentence, and voted for his death. He was condemned to death as a 
 Girondist, in 1793, and spent the night before his execution in discoursing with his friends 
 upon revolutions and governments. His speeches were always carefully prepared before- 
 Uand. E. 
 
 •j- This is a justice done to Vergniaud by the Journal de Paris, at that time so celebrated 
 lor its opposition to the majority of the Assembly, and for the extraordinary talents of ita 
 conductors, especially of the unfortunate and immortal Andre Chenier. (See that paper of 
 the 4th of July, 1792.) 
 
 4: It is scarcely necessary to observe that I here analyze Vergniaud's speech, but do not 
 give it verbaJim. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. ^83 
 
 md devastated fields ? . . In s! lort, where arc we ? . And you, gentlemen, 
 wliat grand work are you about to undertake for the public weal ? 
 
 "You, whom some flatter tlicmselves tliat they have intimidated: you 
 whose consciences tliey flatter themselves that they have alarmed by stigma- 
 tizing your patriotism as llie spirit of faction, as if those who took the oath 
 in the Tennis Court had not also been called factious : you, who have been 
 60 slandered, because you belong not to a proud caste which the constitution 
 has thrown down in the dust: you, to whom are imputed guilty intentions, 
 ai if, invested with a power difleront from that of the law, you had a civi* 
 list : you, whose concern for the dangers of tlie people a hypocritical mode- 
 ration hoped to cool : you, wliom means have been found to divide, but who, 
 in this moment of danger, will lay aside your animosities, your paltry dis- 
 sensions, and not And it so d-L'lightful to hate one another as to prefer that 
 infernal pleasure to tlie welfare of the country ; — you, finally, hearken to 
 mc ! What are your resources? AVhat does necessity command you? 
 Wliat docs the constitution permit you to do?" 
 
 During this exordium, loud applause drowned the voice of the speaker. 
 He cdiiUniied his speech, and exhibited two kinds of dangers, the one inter- 
 nal, the other external. 
 
 " To remove the former, the Assembly liad proposed a decree against the 
 pricsls, and, whetlicr the spirit of a Medicis still ilits beneath the vaults of 
 the Tuilcries, or a Lachaise or a Letellier still disturbs the heart of the 
 prince, the decree has been rejected by the throne. It is not possible to 
 believe, willu^ut doing the King injustice, that he wishes for religious distur- 
 bances ! lie fancies himself then sufliciently powerful — he has then ancient 
 laws enough — to insm'c the public tranquillity. Let his ministers then 
 answer for it with tlu'ir heads, since they have the means of insuring it ! 
 
 "To provide against external dangers, tlie Assembly conceived the idea 
 of a camp of reserve. Tlie King rejected it. It would be doing him injustice 
 to suppose that lie wishes to deliver up France to the enemy ; he must 
 therefore have forces sufllcient to protect it; his ministers therefore ought to 
 answer to us with their heads for the salvation of the country." 
 
 Thus far the speaker confines himself, as we see, to the ministerial re- 
 sponsibility, and strives to exhibit it under the most threatening aspect 
 " But," added he, " to throw the ministers into the abyss which their malice 
 or their imbecility has opened, is not all . . Listen to me calmly ; be in no 
 hurry to anticipate what I am about to say. 
 
 At these words tlie attention of his auditors was redoubled. Profound 
 silence pervaded the Assembly. '• It is in the name of the King^^^ said he, 
 " that the French princes have endeavoured to raise Europe against us. It 
 is to avenge the dignity of tlie King that the treaty of Pilnitz has been con- 
 chu4ed. It is to come to the aid of the King that the sovereign of Hungary 
 and Bohemia makes war upon us, that Prussia is marching towards our 
 frontiers. Now, I read in the constitution : 'If the King puts himself at the 
 head of an army and directs its forces against the nation, or if he does not 
 'oppose by a formal act an enterprise of this kind that may be executed in 
 his name, he shall be considered as having abdicated royalty.' 
 
 " What is a formal act of opposition ? If one hundred thousand Austrians 
 were marching towards Flanders, and one hundred thousand Prussians to 
 wards Alsace, and the King were to oppose to them ten or twenty thousan'l 
 men, would he have done a formal act of opposition ? 
 
 ♦' If the King, whose duty it is to notify imminent hostilities, apprized o\ 
 the movements of the Prussian army, were not to communicate any inforin'd' 
 
284 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 tion on the subject to the National Assembly; if a camp of reserve, necca* 
 sary for stopping the progress of the enemy into the interior, were proposed, 
 and the King were to substitute in its stead an uncertain plan which it would 
 take a long time to execute ; if the King were to leave the command of aq 
 army to an intriguing general, of whom the nation was suspicious ; if another 
 general, bred afar from the corruption of courts and familiar with victory, 
 were to demand a reinforcement, and the King Avere by a refusal to say to 
 him; I forbid thee to conquer — could it be asserted that the King had com- 
 mitted a formal act of opposition ? 
 
 "I have exaggerated several circumstances," resumed Vergniaud, "to 
 take away every pretext for explanations purely hypothetical. But if, while 
 France was swimming in blood, the King were to say to you, ' It is true 
 that the enemies pretend to be acting for me, for my dignity, for my rights, 
 but I have proved that I am not their accomplice. I have sent armies into the 
 field ' these armies were too weak, but the constitution does not fix the degree 
 of their force. I have assembled them too late, but the constitution does not fix 
 the time for collecting them. I have stopped a general who was on the point 
 of conquering, but the constitution does not order victories. I have had 
 ministers, who deceived the Assembly, and disorganized the government, 
 but their appointment belonged to me. The Assembly has passed useful 
 decrees which I have not sanctioned, but I had a right to act so. I have 
 done all that the constitution enjoined me. It is therefore impossible to 
 doubt my fidelity to it.' (Vehement applause here burst from all quarters.) 
 
 " If then," continued Vergniaud, " the King were to hold this language, 
 should you not have a right to reply ; ' King, who, like Lysander, the 
 tyrant, have believed that truth was not worth more than falsehood — who 
 have feigned a love for the laws merely to preserve the power which enabled 
 you to defy them — was it defending us to oppose to the foreign soldiera 
 forces whose inferiority left not even uncertainty as to their defeat? Was it 
 defending us, to thwart plans tending to fortify the interior ? "Was it de- 
 fending us, not to check a general who violated the constitution, but to 
 enchain the courage of those who were serving it? Did the constitution 
 leave you the choice of the ministers for our prosperity or for our ruin? Did 
 it make you the head of the army for our glory or our disgrace ? Did i 
 finally confer on you the right of sanction, a civil list, and so many preroga 
 tives, in order constitutionally to undo the constitution of the empire? No! 
 no ! Man, in whom the generosity of the French has excited no correspond- 
 ing feeling, insensible to everything but the love of despotism, you are 
 henceforth nothing to that constitution which you have so unworthily violated 
 -—to that people whom you have so basely betrayed !' 
 
 " But no," resumed the speaker, "if our armies are not complete, the 
 King assuredly is not to blame for this ; no doubt he will take the necessary 
 measures for saving us ; no doubt the march of the Prussians will not be so 
 triumphant as they hope ; but it was requisite to foresee everything and to 
 say everything, for frankness alone can save us." 
 
 Vergniaud concluded by proposing a message to Louis XVI., firm bul 
 respectful, which should oblige him to choose between France and foreigners, 
 and teach him that the French were resolved to perish or triumph with the 
 Tonstitution. He wished also that the Assemblv should declare the country 
 in dann^er, in order to awaken in hearts those n'ighty affections which have 
 animated mighty nations, and which no doubt would be found in the French; 
 *nor," said he, " it will not be in the regenerat/^d French of 89 that Nature 
 Kill show herself degenerated." He wisned, finally, that an end should be 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 285 
 
 put to di^^sensions whicli began to assume a sinister character, iind that they 
 5noukl reunite those ^vllo were in Rome and on iNIount Aventine. 
 
 As he uttered Uiesc last words, tlie voice of the speaker faltered, and the 
 emotion was general. 'I'he tribunes, the left side, in short, all appiauded. 
 Vcrixniaud I'jft the tribune, and was surrounded bv a crowd, who thronficd 
 to congrat'.i'pte him. He alone had dared to speak to the Asspmbly con 
 cernin^j the forfeiture of tlie crown, wliich was a general topic of conversa 
 tion in public ; but he had presented the subject only in an hypothetical 
 manne"-, and clothed in forms still respectful, Avhen compared with the lan- 
 gunye suggested by tlie passions of tlie time. 
 
 Dmnas ca)ne forward to reply. He attempted to speak extempore after 
 Vargniaud, before auditors, still full of the feelings that he had excited. He 
 several limes claimed silence and an attention which it was not in iiis power 
 to gain. He animadverted on tlie reproaches urged against tlie executive 
 power. "The retreat of Luckner," said lie, "is owing to the chance of bat- 
 tles, whicli cannot be governed in tlie recesses of cabinets. Assuredly you 
 have confidence in laickncr?" Cries of "Yes I yes!" were the answer; 
 and Kersaint proposed a decree declaring that Luckncr had retained the na- 
 tional confidence. The decree was passed, and Dumas proceeded. He ob- 
 served very justly that, if they had coulidence in that general, they could not 
 consider the intention of his retreat as culpable or suspicious: tliat, as for 
 the want offerees which was complained of, the marshal himself knew that 
 all the troops then disposable were assembled for this enterprizc; that, more- 
 over, everything must have been already prepared by the old Girondin mi- 
 nistry, the aullior of the ofleusive warfare ; and that, if the means were inade- 
 quate, that ministry alone was to blame; that the new ministers could not 
 possibly repair all that was defective by a ^c\v couriers; and lastly, that they 
 had given carte blanc/ic to Luckner, and had left him the power to act ac- 
 cording to circumstances and local situation. 
 
 "The camp of twenty thousand men lias been rejected," added Dumas, 
 " but, in tlie first place, the ministers are not responsible for the veto, and, in 
 the next, the plan which they substituted in its stead was far preferable to 
 that proposed by the Assembly, because it did not paralyze the means of re- 
 cruiting. The decree against the priests lias been rejected, but there is no 
 need of new laws to insure the public tranquillity. Nothing is Avanting but 
 quiet, security, respect for individual liberty, and liberty of conscience. 
 Wherever these liberties have been respected, the priests have not been se- 
 ditious." Dumas concluded witli justifying the King, by objecting that lie 
 had not wished for war, and Lafayette by reminding the Assembly that he 
 had always been a lover of liberty. 
 
 The decree proposed by the commission of twelve, for arranging the formg 
 according to which the country should be declared in danger, was passed 
 amidst the most vehement applause. But the declaration of danger was ad- 
 journed, because it was not thought right as yet to proclaim it. The King, 
 no doubt excited by all that had been said, notified to the Assembly the im- 
 minent hostilities with Prussia, which he grounded on the convention of Pil- 
 hitz, on the favourable reception given to the rebels, on the acts of violence 
 committed upon French mercantile men, on the dismissal of our minister, 
 and the departure of the Prussian ambassador from Paris ; lastly, on tlie 
 inarch of the Prussian troops to the number of fifty-two thousand men 
 "Everything proves to me," added the King's message, "an alliance be- 
 tween Vienna and Berlin. (There was a laugh at these words.) Agreeably 
 to tlie terms of the constitution, I give this intimation of it to the legislativo 
 
886 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 body." — "Yes," replied several voices, "when the Prussians are at Co. 
 blentz." The message was referred to the commission of twelve. 
 
 The discussion relative to the forms of the declaration of the country in 
 danger was continued. It was decreed that this declaration should be con- 
 tinued as a simple proclamation, and that consequently it should not be sub* 
 ject to the royal sanction, which was not quite just, since it comprehended 
 legislative clauses, but, without meaning to proclaim it, the Assembly already 
 followed the law of the public welfare. 
 
 The discussions were daily increasing in violence. The Avish of Vero-ni* 
 aud to iinite those who were in Rome and on Mount Aventine was not ful- 
 filled ; the fear which each excited in the other was changed into irrecon* 
 cilable hatred. 
 
 There was in the Assembly a deputy named Lamourette,* constitutional 
 Bishop of Lyons, who had never considered liberty in any other light than 
 as a return to primitive fraternity, and who was as much grieved as astonished 
 at the divisions of his colleagues. He did not believe that the one harboured 
 any real hatred against the others. He supposed that all of them merely 
 entertained unjust suspicions. On the 7th of July, at the moment when the 
 discussion on the country in danger was about to be resumed, he asked leave 
 to speak for the purpose of a motion to order; and addressing his colleagues 
 in the most persuasive tone and with the noblest aspect, he told them that 
 terrible measures were every day proposed to them in order to put an end to 
 the danger of the country ; that, for his part, he had faith in milder and more 
 efficacious means. It was the disunion among the representatives that was 
 the cause of all the evils, and to this disunion it behoved them to apply a 
 remedy. "Oh!" exclaimed the worthy prelate, "he who should succeed 
 in reconciling you, that man would be the real conqueror of Austria and of 
 Coblentz. It is daily alleged that, at tlie point to which things have been 
 carried, your reunion is impossible. Ah ! I tremble at the thought ... but 
 this is a calumny. There is nothing irreconcilable but guilt and virtue. Good 
 men dispute warmly, because they are impressed with the sincere conviction 
 of the correctness of their opinions, but they cannot hate one another. Gen- 
 tlemen, the public weal is in your hands. Why do you delay carrying it 
 into operation? 
 
 "What is it that the two portions of the Assembly charge eacli other with? 
 One accuses the other of wishing to modify the constitution by the hands of 
 foreiofners ; and the latter accuses the former of striving to overthrow the 
 monarchy for the purpose of establishing a republic. Well, gentlemen, hurl 
 one and the same anathema against a republic and the two chambers. De- 
 vote them to general execration by a last and irrevocable oath! Let us sweai 
 to have but one spirit, but one sentiment. Let us swear everlasting frater- 
 nity ! Let the enemy know that what we will, we all will, and the country 
 IS saved!" 
 
 Scarcely had the speaker finished these concluding words, when both sides 
 of the Assembly rose, applauding his generous sentiments, and eager to rid 
 themselves of the burden of their reciprocal animosities. Amidst universal 
 acclamations, they devoted to public execration any project for changing tho 
 constitution either by two chambers or by a republic ; and the members 
 rushed from the opposite benches to embrace one another. Those who had 
 
 • " After the dissolution of the Legislative Assembly, Lamourcttc went to Lyons, and con- 
 tinued there during the seige. He was afterwards conducted to Paris, condemned to death, 
 and decapitated in 1794. He was the author of several religious works." — Scott's Life of 
 Napoleon. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. ^ii'? 
 
 attacked and those who had defended Lafayette, the veto, the civil hst, the 
 factions, and the traitor's, were clasped in each others' arms. All distinc- 
 tions ceased, and Messrs. Pastoret and Condorcet, who the day before Avere 
 loading one another with abuse in the public papers, were seen locked in 
 each other's embrace. There was no longer any right or left side, and all 
 the deputies sat indiscriminately together. Dumas was beside Basire, Jau- 
 court next to Merlin, and Ramond by Chabot. 
 
 It was immediately decided that they should inform the provinces, the 
 army, and the King, of this happy event. A deputation, headed by Lamou- 
 rette, repaired to the palace. Lamourette returned, announcing the intention 
 of the King to come, as on the 4th of February, 1790, to express his satis- 
 faction to the Assembly, and to assure it that he was sorry he had to wait 
 for a deputation, for he was most anxious to hasten into the midst of it. 
 
 The enthusiasm was increased to the highest pitch by these words, and if 
 the unanimous cry might be credited, the country was saved. Was it, then, 
 that a King and eight hundred hypocritical deputies had suddenly formed the 
 plan of deceiving each other, and feigning an oblivion of injuries, that they 
 might afterwards betray one another with the greater certainty? No, as- 
 suredly not. Such a plan is not formed among so great a number of persons 
 and all at once, without premeditation. But hatred is burdensome; it is a 
 relief to get rid of the weight of it; and, moreover, at the prospect of the 
 most threatening events, which party was it that, in the uncertainty of vic- 
 tory, would not gladly have consented to keep the present as it was, pro- 
 vided that it were insured to them? This fact demonstrates that distrust and 
 fear produced all the animosities, that a moment of conlidence allayed them, 
 and that if the party called republican thought of a republic, it was not from 
 system but from despair. AVhy did not the King, on returning to his palace, 
 write innnediatcly to Prussia and Austria? Why did he not combine with 
 these secret measures some grand public measure? Why did he not say, 
 like his ancestor Louis XIV., on the approach of the enemy, Z>et its all go! 
 
 But in the evening the Assembly was informed of the result of the pro- 
 ceedings instituted by the department against Petion and Manuel ; and this 
 result was the suspension of those two magistrates. From what has since 
 been learned from the lips of Petion himself, it is probable that he could 
 have prevented the commotion of the 20th of June, since he afterwards pre- 
 vented others. In fact, his real sentiments were not then known, but it 
 was strongly presumed that he Iiad connived with the agitators. There 
 were moreover some infringements of tlie law to lay to his charge. He 
 was reproached, for instance, with having been extremely dilatory in his 
 communications to the different authorities, and wi'ii having suffered the 
 council of the commune to pass a resolution {arrete) contrary to tliat of the 
 department, in deciding that the petitioners should be admitted into the ranks 
 of the national guard. The suspension pronounced by the department was,, 
 tiierefore, legal and courageous, but impolitic. After the reconciliation of 
 the morning, was it not, in fact, the height of imprudence to signify, in the 
 evening of the very same day, the suspension of two magistrates enjoying 
 tlie greatest popularity ? The King, indeed, referred the matter to the As- 
 sembly ; but, without betraying its dissatisfaction, it sent back the decision 
 to him that he might himself pronounce upon it. The tribunes recommenced 
 tlieir usual cries ; a great number of petitions were presented, demanding 
 Petion or death; and Grangeneuve, the deputy, who had been personally 
 insulted, insisted on a report against the perpetrator of the outrage. Thus 
 the reconciliation was already forgotten. Brissot, to whose turn it had come 
 
288 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 to speak on the question of the public danger, solicited time to modify the 
 expressions of his speech, on account of the reconciliation wliich had since 
 taken place. Nevertheless, he could not abstain from enumerating all the 
 instances of neglect and tardiness laid to the charge of the court; and, in 
 spite of the pretended reconciliation, he concluded with proposing that the 
 question of the forfeiture of the crown should be solemnly discussed; that 
 ministers should be impeached for having so long delayed to notify the hos- 
 tilities of Prussia ; that a secret commission of seven members should be 
 appointed and charged to attend to the public welfare ; that the property of 
 the emigrants should be sold ; that the organization of the national guards 
 should be accelerated ; and, lastly, that the Assembly should forthwith de- 
 clare tlie country to be in danger. 
 
 Intelligence was at the same time received of the conspiracy of Dessail- 
 lant, one of the late noblesse, who, at the head of a party of insurgents, had 
 gained possession of the fort of Bannes, in the department of the Ardeche, 
 and thence threatened the whole surrounding country. The disposition of 
 the powers was also reported to the Assembly by the ministers. The house 
 of Austria, influencing Prussia, had induced it to march against France; the 
 pupils of tlie great Frederick nevertheless murmured against this impoUtic 
 alliance. The electorates were all our open or concealed enemies. Russia 
 had been the first to declare against the Revolution ; she had acceded to the 
 treaty of Pilnitz ; she had flattered the projects of Gustavus and seconded 
 the emigrants ; and all to deceive Prussia and Austria, and to urge them 
 both on against France, whilst she acted against Poland. At that moment 
 she was treating with Messrs. de Nassau and d'Esterhazy, leaders of the 
 emigrants ; but, notwithstanding her magnificent promises, she had merely 
 furnished them with a frigate, to rid herself of their presence at St. Peters- 
 burg. Sweden was immoveable since the death of Gustavus and admitted 
 our ships. Denmark promised a strict neutrality. We might consider our. 
 selves as being at war with the court of Turin. The Pope Avas preparing 
 his thunderbolts. Venice was neutral, but seemed disposed to protect 
 Trieste with its navy. Spain, without entering openly into the coalition, 
 appeared not unwilling to adhere to tlie family compact, and to return to 
 France the aid which she had received from her. 
 
 England promised neutrality and gave fresh assurances of it. The 
 United States Avould gladly have assisted us with all their means; but those 
 means were then null, on account of their distance and their thin population. 
 
 Immediately after tlie communication of this report, the Assembly was 
 for declaring the country in danger : but that declaration was postponed till 
 after the presentation of a new report from all the committees united. On 
 the 11th, after this report had been read, amidst profound silence, the presi- 
 dent pronounced the solemn formula. Citizens, the country is in danger ! 
 
 From that moment the sittings were declared permanent. The discharge 
 of cannon, fired from moment to moment, proclaimed this important crisis. 
 All the municipalities, all tlie district and departmental councils, sat without 
 interruption. All the national guards put themselves in motion. Amphi- 
 theatres were erected in the public places, and there the municipal officers 
 received, upon a table borne by drummers, the names of those who came 
 voluntarily to enrol themselves. The number enrolled amounted to fifteen 
 thousand in one day.* 
 
 • " While the minds of men v?ere wound up to the highest pitch by inflammatory 
 harangues, the committees to whom it had been remitted to report on the state of the country, 
 published the solemn declaration, " Citizens, the country is in danger/" Minute guns 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION 2S9 
 
 The reconciliation of the 7th of July and the oath which followed, had not, 
 as we have jiist seen, dispelled any distrust. People were still devising 
 means to protect themselves against the designs of the palace, and the idea 
 of declaring that the King had forfeited the crown, or of forcing him to ah- 
 dicate, presented itself to every mind as the only possible remedy for the 
 evils which threatened France. Vergiiiaud had merely pointed hypotheti- 
 cally to this idea , but others, especially Torne, the deputy, were desirous 
 that this supposition of Vergniaud should be considered as reality. Peti- 
 tions poured in from every part of France, to lend the aid of public opinion 
 to this desperate scheme of the patriotic deputies. 
 
 The city of Marseilles had previously presented a threatening petition, 
 read to the Assembly on the 19lh of June, and the substance of which has 
 been already given. At the moment when the country was declared in 
 danger, several others were received. One of tliem proposed to accuse 
 Lafayette, to suppress the veto in certain cases, to reduce the civil list, and 
 to reinstate Manuel and Petion in their municipal functions. Another de- 
 manded, together with the suppression of the veto, the publicity of the coun- 
 cils. But the city of Marseilles, wliich had set the first example of these 
 acts of boldness, soon carried tliem to the utmost excess. It presented an 
 address, recommending to the Assembly to abolish royalty in the reigning 
 branch, anil to substitute in its stead t merely elective royalty and without 
 veto, that is to say, a purely c.rccutive iiiau;istr(ici/, as in republics. The 
 stupor j)roduced l)y the reading of this address was soon followed by the 
 applause of the tribunes ; and a motion for printing it was made by a mem- 
 ber of the Assembly. The address was, nevertheless, referred to the com- 
 mission of twelve, that the law declaring infamous every plan for altering 
 the couslitulion might be applied to it. 
 
 Consternation pervaded the court. It pervaded also the patriotic party, 
 which bold petitions were far from cheering. Tlie King conceived that 
 violence was intended agninst his person. He attributed tlic events of the 
 20lh of June to a sclieme for murdering him, which had miscarried ; but he 
 Avas assuredly wrong, for nothing could liave been easier than tlie consum- 
 mation of that crime, if it had been projected. He was fearful of being 
 poisoned, and himself and his family took their meals with a lady in the 
 Queen's confidence, where they ate of dilTerent dishes from those which 
 were prepared in the offices of the palace. '■ As the anniversary of the Fe- 
 
 announccil to the inhabitants of the capita! this solemn appeal, which calleJ on every one to 
 lay down his life on behalf of the state. Pikes were distributed to all those not possessed 
 of firelocks; battalions of volunteers formed in the public squares, and standards were dis- 
 played in conspicuous situations, with the words, 'Citizens, the country is in danger!' 
 These measures excited the Revolutionary ardour to the utmost degree. An universal 
 phrenzy seized the public mind. Many departments openly defied the authority of govern- 
 ment, and without any orders sent their contingents to form the camp of twenty thousand 
 men near Paris. This was the commencement of tlie revolt which overturned the throne." — 
 Alison. E. 
 
 * On the subject of the apprehensions of the royal family, Madame Campan relates as 
 follows : 
 
 " The police of M. de Laporte, intendant of tlie civil list, apprized him, about the end of 
 1791, that one of the King's household, who had set up as a pastrycook in the Palais Royal, 
 had hitily taken upon him the duties of an olTice which reverted to him on the death of the 
 late holder; that he was so outrageous a Jacobin as to have dared to assert that it would be 
 doing a great benelH to France to put an end to the life of the King. His functions were 
 confined merely to articles of pastry. He was closely watched by the principal officers of 
 the kitchen, who were attached to his majesty ; but a subtile poiscwi may be so easily 'iitio- 
 duccd into articles of food, that it was decided that the King and Queen should eat nothing 
 
 VOL. I. — 37 
 
290 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 deration was approachin;^, the Queen caused a kind of breastplate, coni' 
 posed of several folds of stuff, capable of resisting a first thrust of a dagger, 
 to be made for the King. However, as time passed away, and the popular 
 audacity increased, without any attempt at assassination being made, the 
 Kincr beo^an to form a more correct notion of the nature of liis danger ; and he 
 already perceived that it was not the point of a dagger, but a judicial con- 
 demnation, that he had to dread ; and the fate of Charles I. continually 
 haunted his tortured imagination. 
 
 Lafayette, though repulsed by the court, had nevertheless resolved to sa^e 
 the King. He therefore caused a plan of flight that was very boldly con- 
 ceived, to be submitted to him.* He had first gained over Luckner, and 
 
 Dut what was roasted ; that their breaJ should be supplied by M. Thierry, of Ville d'Avray, 
 intendant of the peiiis apparlemens, and that he should also furnish the wine. The King 
 was fond of pastry ; I was directed to order some, as if for myself, sometimes of one pastry- 
 cook, sometimes of another. The grated sugar was hkewise kept in my room. The King, 
 the Queen, and Madame Elizabeth dined together without any attendants. Each of ihem 
 had a dumb-waiter of mahogany and a bell to ring when they wanted anything. M. Thierry 
 himself brought me the i)read and wine for their majesties, and I locked up all these things in 
 a particular closet in the King's cabinet, on the ground floor. As soon as the King was at 
 table, I brought the pastry and the bread. Everything was hid under the table, lest there 
 might be occasion to call in the attendants. The King thought that it was not less danger- 
 ous than mortifying to show this apprehension of attempts against his person and this dis- 
 trust of the servants of his household. As he never drank a whole bottle of wine at dinner — 
 the princesses drank nothing but water — he half-filled that from which he had been drinking 
 out of the bottle supplied by the officers of his establishment. I carried it away after dinner. 
 Though no pastry but that which I brought was ever eaten, care was taken to make it 
 appear as if some of that which had been set on the table had been used. The lady who 
 succeeded me found this secret service ready organized, and she executed it in the same 
 manner. The public was never acquainted with these precautions or the apprehensions 
 which had given rise to them. At the end of three or four months, the same police gave 
 intimation that there was no longer any reason to fear a plot of this kind against the King's 
 life ; that the plan was completely changed ; that the blows intended to be struck would be 
 directed as much against the throne as against the person of the sovereign." — Memoires d£ 
 Madame Canipan, tome ii., p. 188. 
 
 • "The plan of flight was as follows; The King accompanied by Lafayette was to have 
 gone to the National Assembly at midday, and announced his intention of spending some 
 days at Compicgne. On his arrival there with a small escort of Parisian national guards, 
 he could calculate on the national guard of Compiegne, and on two regiments of chasseurs 
 belonging to Lafayette's army, of whom the latter was perfectly sure. The oflicers of this 
 chosen body were to offer every kind of guarantee by their well-known patriotism and honour; 
 and Brigadier-general Latour Maubourg, was to have taken the command. Thus surrounded, 
 the Kinfj, sheltered from all violence, and in a situation of his own choice, would, of his own 
 accord, have issued a proclamation, forbidding his brothers and the emigrants to advance a 
 step further; announcing himself ready to go in person, if the Assembly approved of it, 
 against the enemy ; and declaring for the constitution in such terms as to leave not a shadow 
 of doubt as to his real intentions. Such a step might probably have enabled Louis to return 
 to Paris amid the universal acclamations of the people ; but such a triumph would have been 
 the triumph of liberty, and therefore the court rejected it. Some of the King's persona! 
 friends left nothing untried to inspire him with confidence in Lafayette. With tears in their 
 eyes, they conjured him to comply with the counsels of the only man who could snatch him 
 from destruction. But his most influential advisers saw no chance for absolute royally 
 Bave in anarchy and foreign invasion. Lafayette was thanked for his plan, which was 
 rejected ; and when his aid-de-camp, Colombo, afterwards asked the Queen by what strange 
 infatuation she and the King had come to so fttal a decision, — * We are very grateful to 
 your general,' was her rcfdy, 'but the best thing that could happen to us, would be, to be 
 confined for two months in a tower!' Lafayette knew well that, at the very moment when 
 he was olTering the only chance of safety that rcmaincci *o «he royal family, memorials full of 
 asperity were, by the Queen's orders, composed against him; and that a part of the libels 
 d-iH- cvotcd to his defamation were paid for out of the civil list." — Lafayette's Memoirs. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 291 
 
 had even extorted from the easy disposition of the old marshal a promise to 
 march towards Paris. Lafayette proposed that the King should send for 
 him and Luckner, upon pretext of attendinrr the Federation. The presence 
 of two generals rnight, he thourrht, overawe the people, and prevent the 
 dangers which were apprehended from that day. Lafayette further pro- 
 posed tliat, the day after the ceremony, Louis XVL should publicly leave 
 Paris, professedly with the intention of going to Compiegne, in order to 
 exhibit a proof of his liberty to all Europe. In case of opposition, he asked 
 for no more than fifty trusty horse, to carry him o(T from Paris. From 
 Compiegiie, squadrons kept in readiness were to conduct him to the French 
 armies, where Lafayette would depend on his sincerity for the maintenance 
 of the new institutions. Lastly, in case none of these schemes should suc- 
 ceed, the general had determined to march with all his troops to Paris.- 
 
 • When M. de Lafayette was confined at Olmiitz, M. de Lally-Tollendal wrote in his 
 behalf a very eloquent letter to the King of Prussia. He there recapitulated all that the 
 general had done to save Louis XVL and adduced proofs in confirmation. -Among these 
 documents were the following letters, which atTord an insight into the plans and the efTorts 
 of the constitutionalists at this period : 
 
 Copy of a Letter frojn M. de Lally-TuUcndal to the King. 
 
 Paris, Monday, July 9, 1792. 
 
 I am charged by M. Lafayette to propose directly to his majesty, for the 15th of this month, 
 the same plan, which he had proposed for the 12th, and which cannot now be carried into 
 execution on that day, on account of (he promise given by his majesty to attend the cere- 
 mony of the Hth. 
 
 His majesty must have seen the plan sent by M. Lafayette, for M. Duport was to carry it 
 to M. Moiitciel that he might show it to his majesty. 
 
 M. Iiafayette means to be here on the 1.3th; he will have with him old General Luckner. 
 They have just had a mooting ; both have promised, and both have one and the same feeling 
 and one and the same design. 
 
 Tbcy [iropose that his majesty shall publicly leave the city between them, having written 
 to the National Assembly, to assure it that he shall not pass the constitutional line, and that 
 he is going to Compiegnc. 
 
 His majesty and all the royal family are to be in one carriage. It is easy to find a hundred 
 good horse to escort them. The Swiss, in case of need, and part of the national guard will 
 protect the departure. The two generals will keep close to his majesty. On arriving at 
 Compiegnc, he shall have for his guard a detachment belonging to the place, which is very 
 good, one from the capital, which shall be picked, and one from the army, 
 
 M. Lafayette, after providing for all his fortresses, and his reserve camp, has at his disposal 
 for this purpose in his army ten squadrons of horse artillery. Two forced marches may 
 bring this whole division to Compiegnc. 
 
 If, contrary to all probability, his mnjcsty should be prevented from leaving the city, tho 
 laws being most manifestly violated, the two generals would march upon the capital with 
 an army. 
 
 The consequences of this plan are sufficiently obvious. 
 
 Peace with all Europe, through the mediation of the King; 
 
 The King reinstated in all his legal power; 
 
 A great and necessary extension of his sacred prerogatives; 
 
 A real monarchy, a real monarch, real lilterty ; 
 
 A real national representation, of which the King shall be the head and an integral part, 
 
 A real executive power; 
 
 A real national representation, elected from among persons of property; 
 
 The constitution revised, partly abolished, partly improved, and founded on a better basis; 
 
 The new legislative body sitting for three months only in the year: 
 
 The old nobility restored to its former privileges, not political but civil ; depending on 
 opinion, such as titles, arms, liveries, &:c. 
 
 I execute my commission without presuming to add either advice or reflection. My 
 '.magination is too full of the rage wliich will seize all those perverse heads at the loss of 
 
292 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Whether ihis plan requu-ed too great boldness, and Louis XVI. had nol 
 enough of that quality, or whether the dislike of the Queen to Lafayette 
 
 the first town that shall be taken from us, not to have my misgivings ; and these are so 
 strong, that the scene of Saturday, which appears to have quieted many people, has doubled 
 my uneasiness. All those kisses reminded rae of that of Judas. 
 
 I merely solicit permission to be one of the eighty or one hundred horse who shall escort 
 his majesty, if he approves the plan ; and I flatter myself that I have no occasion to assure 
 him that his enemies should not get at him or at any member of his royal family before they 
 had passed over my corpse. 
 
 I will add one word : I was a friend of M. Lafayette's before the Revolution. I broke off 
 all intercourse with him since the 22d of March in the second year. At that period, I 
 wished him to be what he is at this day ; I wrote to him that his duty, his honour, his inte- 
 rest, all prescribed to him this line of conduct; I detailed the plan to him at length, such as 
 my conscience suggested it. He gave me a promise ; I saw no effect from that promise. 
 I shall not examine whether this was owing to inability or insincerity ; I renounced all 
 further connexion with him, telling him so, and nobody had yet told him more severe 
 truths than myself and my friends, who were also his. These same friends have now 
 renewed my correspondence with him. His majesty knows what has been the aim and the 
 nature of this correspondence. I have seen his lettors ; I had a conference of two hours 
 with him in the night before he left Paris. He acknowledges his errors; he is ready to 
 devote himself for liberty, but at the same time for the monarchy ; he is willing to sacrifice 
 himself if need be, for his country and for his King, whom he no longer separates ; he is 
 attached, in short, to the principles which I have expounded in this note ; he is attached to 
 them completely, with candour, conviction, sensibility, fidelity to the King, disregard of 
 himself — I answer for him on my integrity. 
 
 I forgot to say that he begs that nothing may be said on this subject to such of the officers 
 as may be in the capital at this moment. All may suspect that some plans are in agitation ; 
 but none of them is apprized of that which he proposes. It is sufficient for them to know it 
 on the morning for acting; he is afraid of indiscretion if it should be mentioned to them 
 beforehand, and none of them is excepted from this observation. 
 
 P. S. May I venture to say that, in my opinion, this note should be perused by him only, 
 who, on an ever-memorable day, vanquished by his heroic courage a whole host of assassins; 
 by him who, the day after that unexampled triumph, himself dictated a proclamation as sub- 
 lime as his actions had been on the preceding day, and not by the counsels which drew up 
 the letter written in his name to the legislative body intimating that he should attend the 
 ceremony of the 14th; not by the counsels which obtained the sanction of the decree re- 
 epecting feudal rights, a decree equivalent to a robbery committed upon the highway! 
 
 M. Lafayette does not admit the idea that the King, when once out of the capital, has any 
 other direction to follow but that of his conscience and his free will. He conceives that the 
 first operation of his majesty ought to be to create a guard for himself; he conceives also that 
 his plan is capable of being modified in twenty difl'erent ways ; he prefers a retreat to the 
 North to a retreat to the South, as being nearer at hand to render assistance on that side, 
 and dreading the southern faction. In these words, the liberty of the King and the destruc- 
 tion of the factions, is comprehended his aim in all the sincerity of his heart. What is to 
 follow will follow. 
 
 Copy of a letter from Lafayette. 
 
 July 8, 1792. 
 
 I had disposed my army in such a manner that the best squadrons, the grenadiers, and the 
 horse artillery were under the command of M — , in the fourth division ; and, had my pro- 
 posal been accepted, I should have brought in two days to Compiegne fifteen squadrons and 
 eight pieces of cannon, the rest of the army being placed in echelons, at the distance of one 
 march ; and any regiment which would not have taken the first step would have corae to my 
 assistance, if my comrades and myself had been engaged. 
 
 I had overcome Luckner so far as to obtain a promise from him to march with me to the 
 Odpital, if the safety of the King had required it, and he had issued orders to that effect ; and 
 
 I have five squadrons of that army at my absolute disposal, Languedoc and '■, ^^^ 
 
 commandant of the horse artillery is also exclusively devoted to me. I reckoned that these 
 would also march to Compiegne. 
 
 The King has given a promise to attend the federal festival. I am sorry that my plan haa 
 no*, been adopted •, but the most must be made of that which has been preferred. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 293 
 
 prevented him from accepting his aid, he again refused it, and directed a 
 very cold answer, and one very unworthy of the zeal which the general 
 
 The steps which I have taken, the aJhesion of many departments and communes, that of 
 M. Luckncr, my influence with my army and even with the other troops, my popularity in 
 the kingdom, which has rather increased than diminished, though very limited in the capital ; 
 all these circumstances, added to several others, have, by awakening honest men, furnished a 
 subject of reHoclion for the factious; and I hope that the physical dangers of the 11th of 
 July are greatly diminished. I think myself that they are nothing, if the King is accompa- 
 nied by Luckner and me, and surrounded by the picked battalions which I am getting ready 
 for him. 
 
 But, if the King and his family remain in the capital, are they not still in the hands of the 
 factions! We shall lose the first battle; it is impossible to doubt that. The recoil will be 
 felt in the capital. I will go further and assert that the supposition of a correspondence 
 between the Queen and the enemy will be sufficient to occasion the greatest excesses. At 
 least they will be for carrying off the King to the South ; and this idea, which is now revolt- 
 ing, will appear simple when the leagued kings are approaching. I see, therefore, a series 
 of dangers commencing immediately after the 14th. 
 
 I again repeat it, the King must leave Paris ! I know that, were he not sincere, this course 
 would be attended with inconveniences; but when the question is about trusting the King, 
 who is an honest man, can one hesitate a moment 1 I am impressed with the necessity of 
 seeing the King at Com()iegne. 
 
 Here then are the two objects to which my present plan relates : 
 
 1. If the King has not yet sent for Luckner and myself, he should do so immediately. We 
 have Luckner. He ought to be secured more and more. He will say that we are together; 
 I will say the rest. Luckner can come to fetch me, so that we may be in the capital on the 
 evening of the 12th. The i3th and I4lh may furnish offensive chances, at any rate the 
 defensive shall be insured by your presence ; and who knows what may be the effect of mine 
 upon the national guard 1 
 
 We will accompany the King to the altar of the country. The two generals, representing 
 two armies, which are known to be strongly attached to them, will prevent any insults that 
 there may be a disposition to offer to the dignity of the King. As for me, I may find again 
 the habit which some have so long had of obeying my voice ; the terror which I have always 
 struck into others, as soon as they became factious, and perhaps some personal means of 
 turning a crisis to advantage, may render me serviceable, at least for obviating dangers. My 
 application is the more disinterested, since my situation will be disagreeable in comparison 
 with the grand Federation ; but I consider it as a sacred duty to be near the King on this 
 occasion, and my mind is so bent on this point, that I absoluteii/ require the minister at war 
 to send for me and that this first part of my proposal be adopted ; and I beg you to commu- 
 nicate it through mutual friends to the King, to his family, and to his council. 
 
 2. As for my second prnp(isilion, I deem it equally indispensable, and this is the way in 
 which I understand it. The King's oath and ours will have tranquillized those persons who 
 are only weak: consequently the scoundrels will be for some days deprived of that support. 
 I would have the King write secretly to M. Luckner and myself, one letter jointly to us both, 
 which should find us on the road on the evening of the 1 1th, or the morning of the 12th. 
 The King should there say, ' that, after taking our oath, it was expedient to think of proving 
 his sincerity to foreigners; that the best way would be for him to pass some days at Com- 
 piegne ; that he directed us to have in readiness there some squadrons to join the national 
 guard of that place, and a detachment from the capital ; that we shall accompany him to 
 Compiegne, whence we shall proceed to rejoin our respective armies ; that he desires us to 
 select such squadrons the chiefs of which are known for their attachment to the caistifution, 
 and a general oflicer who cannot leave any doubt on that head.' 
 
 Agreeably to this letter, Luckner and I will appoint M to the command of this expft 
 
 dition ; he shall lake with him four pieces of horse artillery ; eight, if preferred ; but the Kin^ 
 ought not to allude to this subject, because the odium of cannon ought to fall upon us. Oii 
 the 1 5lh, at ten in the morning, the King should go to the Assembly, accompanied by Luckner 
 and myself: and whether we had a battalion, or whether we had but fifty horse, consisting 
 of men devoted to the King, or friends of mine, we should see if the King, the royal family, 
 Luckner, and myself, should be stopped. 
 
 Let us suppose that we were. Luckner and I would return to the Assembly, to complain 
 and to threaten it with our armies. When the King should have returned, his situation 
 would not be worse, for he would not have transgressed the constitution; he would have 
 
894 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 manifested for him, to be returned. "The best advice," to use the words 
 of that answer, " which can be given to M. Lafayette is to continue to serve 
 as a bugbear to the factions, by the able performance of his duty as a 
 general."*- 
 
 Tlie anniversary of the Federation approached. The people and the As- 
 sembly were desirous that Petion should be present at the solemnity of the 
 14th. The King had already endeavoured to throw upon the Assembly the 
 responsibility of approving or disapproving the resolution of the department; 
 but the Assembly had, as we have seen, constrained him to speak out him- 
 self; urging him daily to communicate his decision, that this matter might 
 be setded before the 14th. On the 12th, the King confirmed the suspension. 
 The Assembly lost no time in taking its own pourse. AVhat that was may 
 easily be conceived. Next day, that is on the 13th, it reinstated Petion. 
 But, from a shadow of delicacy, it postponed its decision respecting Manuel, 
 who, amidst the tumult of the 20th of June, had been seen walking about in 
 his scarf, without making any use of his authority. 
 
 The 14th of July, 1792, at length arrived. How times had changed since 
 the 14th of July, 1790! There was neither that magnificent altar, Avith 
 three hundred officiating priests, nor that extensive area, covered by sixty 
 thousand national guards, richly dressed and regularly organized, nor those 
 lateral tiers of seats, crowded by an immense multitude, intoxicated with joy 
 
 against him none but the enemies of that constitution, and Luckner and I should easily bring 
 forward detachments from Compiegne. Take notice that this does not compromise the King 
 so much as he must necessarily be compromised by the events which are preparing. 
 
 The funds which the King has at his disposal have been so squandered in aristocratic 
 fooleries that he cannot have much money left. There is no doubt that he can borrow, if 
 necessary, to make himself master of the three days of the Federation. 
 
 There is still one case to be provided against: the Assembly may decree that the generals 
 shall not come to the capital. It will be sufficient for the King to refuse his sanction ira- 
 mediately. 
 
 If, by an inconceivable fatality, the King should have already given his sanction, let him 
 appoint to meet us at Compiegne, even though he should he stopped at setting out. Wo 
 will open to him the means of coming thither free and triumphant. It is superfluous to 
 observe that, in any case, on his arrival at Compiegne, he will there form his personal guard 
 on the footing allowed him by the constitution. 
 
 In truth, when I find myself surrounded by inhabitants of the country, who come ten 
 leagues and more to see me and to swear that they have confidence in none but me and that 
 my enemies are theirs ; when I find myself beloved by my army, on which the Jacobin 
 efforts have no influence; when I see testimonies of adherence to my opinions arriving from 
 all parts of the kingdom — I cannot believe that all is lost and that 1 have no means of being 
 serviceable. 
 
 * The following answer is extracted from the collection of documents quoted in the last 
 note: 
 
 Answer in the handwriting of the King. 
 
 You must answer him that I am infinitely sensible to the attachment which would induce 
 him to put himself thus in the front; but that the manner appears to me impracticable. It 
 is not out of personal fear ; but everything would be staked at opce, and, whatever he may 
 bay of it, the failure of this plan would plunge all into a worse state than ever, and reduce it 
 more and more under the sway of the factions. Fontainbleau is but a cul-de-sac, it would 
 be a bad retreat, and towards the South; towards the North, it would have the appearance 
 of going to meet the Austrians. Respecting the summons for him, an answer will be returned 
 from another quarter, so I have nothing to say here on that subject. The presence of the 
 generals at the Federation might be useful; it might besides nave for its motive to seethe 
 new minister and to confer with him on the wants of the army. The best advice which can 
 be given to M. Lafayette is to continue to serve as a bugbear to the factions by the able per- 
 formance of his duty as a general. He will thereby secure more and more the confidence of 
 ttis army, und be enabled to employ it as he pleases in case of emergency. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 295 
 
 and deliglit ; nor lastly, that balcony, where the ministers, tlie royal family 
 and the Assembly, Avere accommodated at the first Federation. Everything 
 was cliaiii^ed. People hated each other as after a hollow reconciliation, and all 
 the emblems indicated war. Eighty-three tents represented the eighty-three 
 departments. Beside each of these stood a poplar, from tlie top of which 
 waved Hags of the three colonrs. A large tent was destined for the Assem- 
 bly and the King, and another for the administrative bodies of Paris. Tims 
 all France seemed to be encamped in the presence of the enemy. The altar 
 of the country was but a truncated column, placed at the top of those tiers of 
 seats which had been left in the Champ dc Mars, ever since the first cere- 
 mony. On one side was seen a monument for those who liad died or who 
 were dcsliacd soon to die, on the frontiers; on the other an immense tree, 
 called the tree of feudalism. It rose IVom die centre of a vast pile, and bore 
 on its branches crowns, blue ribbons, tiaras, cardinals' hats, St. Peter's keys, 
 ermine mantles, doctors' caps, bags of Unv proceedings, titles of nobility, es- 
 cutcheons, coats of arms, <kc. The King ^vas to be invited to set fire to it. 
 The oath was to be taken at noon. 'J'lie King had repaired to the apart- 
 ments of the Military School, where he waited fur the national procession, 
 whicli had gone to lay tlie first stone of a column destined to rise upon the 
 ruins of the ancient Bastille. The King displayed a calm dignity.'" The 
 Queen strove to conquer a grief that was but too ^ isible. His sister, hia 
 children, surrounded him. Some toucliing expressions excited emotion in 
 those who were in the apartments, and tears trickled from the eyes of more 
 tliaii one. At length the procession arrived. Until tlien tiie Champ de Mars 
 had been almost empty. All at once tlie multitude rushed into it. Beneath 
 llie balcony where the King was placed, a confused mob of women, children, 
 and drunken men, were seen to pass, sliouling, " Petion fin* everl Petion or 
 death!" and bearing on their hats the words which thcyliad in (heir mouths; 
 federalists, arm in arm, and carrying a representation of the Bastille and a press, 
 which slojiped, from time to time, for the purpose of printing and distributing 
 patriotic songs. Next came the legions cif the national guards, and the regi- 
 ments of the troops of tlic line, preserving with difliculty the regularity of 
 their ranks amidst the moving fiopulace ; and lastly, the authorities them- 
 selves, and the Assembly. The King then M^ent down, and, placed amidst 
 a square of troops, moved on with the procession towards tlie altar of the 
 country. The concourse in the centre of the Champ de IMars was imniense, 
 so that they could advance but slowly. After great exertions on tlie part of 
 the regiments, the King reached the steps of the altar. Tiie Queen, stationed 
 on the balcony, which she had not quitted, watched this scene with a glass. 
 The confusion seemed to increase about the altar, and the King to descend 
 a step. At this sight, the Queen uttered a shriek and filled all around her 
 with alarm. t The ceremony, however, passed off without accident. 
 
 • "The fif^ure maJe by the King during this pageant formed a striking and melancholy 
 parallel with his actual condition in the state. With hair powdered and dressed, with clothes 
 ?nihri)idercd in the ancient court fashion, surrounded and crowded unceremoniously by men 
 of the lowest rank, and in the most wretched garb, he seemed belonging to a former age, but 
 which in the present has lost its fashion and value. He was conducted to the Champ de 
 Mars under a strong guard, and by a circuitous route, to avoid the insults of the multitude. 
 When he ascended the altar, to go through the ceremonial of the day, all were struck with hi9 
 -cscmltjancc to a victim led to sacrifice; the Queen so much so, that she nearly fainted. A 
 Any children alone called out, 'Vive le Roi !' This was the last time Louis was seen in 
 public until he mounted the scaffold." — Scod's Life of Napoleon. E. 
 
 ■(■ " The expression of the Queen's countenance on this day will never be elTaced from my 
 remembrance. Her eyes were swollen with tears; and the splendour of her dress, and tha 
 
296 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 As soon as the oal]i was taken, the people hastened to the tree of feudal. 
 ism. Tliey were for hurrying the King along with them, that he might set 
 fire to it; but he declined, saying very pertinently that there was no lonoet 
 any such thing as feudalism. He then set out on his return to the Military 
 School. Tlie troops, rejoiced at having saved him, raised reiterated shouts 
 of Vive le Roi! The multitude, which always feels constrained to sympa- 
 thize, repeated these sliouts, and was as prompt to pay him homage as it 
 had been to insult him a few hours before. For a few hours longer the un- 
 fortunate Louis XVI. appeared to be beloved; for an instant the people ana 
 himself believed this to be the case ; but even illusion had ceased to be easy, 
 and they began already to find it impossible to deceive themselves. The 
 King returned to the palace, glad at having escaped tlie dangers which he 
 conceived to be great, but alarmed at those which he beheld approaching. 
 
 The news which arrived daily from the frontiers increased the alarm and 
 agitation. The declaration oi tlie country in danger had set all France in 
 motion, and had occasioned the departure of a gi-eat number of federalists. 
 There were only two thousand at Paris on the day of the Federation; but 
 they kept continually arriving, and the way in which they conducted them- 
 selves there justified both the fears and the hopes that had been conceived 
 of their presence in the capital. All voluntarily enrolled, they comprised 
 the most violent spirits in the clubs of France. The Assembly ordered them 
 an allowance of thirty sous per day, and reserved the tribunes for them ex- 
 clusively. They soon gave law to it by their shouts and their applause. 
 Connected with the Jacobins, and united in a club which in a few days sur- 
 passed all the others in violence, they were ready for insurrection at the first 
 signal. They even made a declaration to this effect in an address to the As- 
 sembly. They would not set out, they said, till the enemies in tlie interior 
 were overthrown. Thus the scheme of assembling an insun^ectional force 
 at Paris was completely accomplisJied, in spite of the opposition of the 
 court. 
 
 In addition to this engine, other means were resorted to. The old soldiers 
 of the French guards were dispersed among the regiments. The Assembly 
 ordered them to be collected into a corps of gendarmerie. There could be 
 no doubt respecting their disposition, since it was they who had begun the 
 Revolution. To no purpose was it objected tliat these men, almost all of 
 them subalterns in the army, constituted its principal force. Tlie Assembly 
 would not listen to any representation, dreading the enemy at home more 
 than the enemy abroad. After composing forces for itself, it resolved to de- 
 compose those of the court. To this end, the Assembly ordered the removal 
 of all the regiments. Thus far it had kept within the limits appointed by 
 the constitution, but, not content with removing, it enjoined them to repair 
 to tlie frontier, and by so doing, it usurped the disposal of the public force 
 which belonged to the King, 
 
 The principal aim of this measure was to get rid of the Swiss, whose 
 fidelity could not be doubted. To parry this blow, the ministers instigated 
 M. d'Affry, their commandant, to remonstrate. He appealed to his capitu- 
 lations in justification of his refusal to leave Paris. The Assembly appeared 
 
 dignity of her deportment, forme J a striking contrast with the train that surrounded her. It 
 required the character of Louis XVI. — that character of martyr which he ever upheld — to 
 support, as he did, such a situation. When he mounted the steps of the altar, he seemed a 
 jacred victim, ofTering himself as a voluntary sacrifice. He descended, and, crossmg anew 
 the disordered ranks, returned to take his place beside the Queen and his children." — Ma* 
 iame at Sluel. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 297 
 
 \o take into cnnsitleration the reasons Avliich he urged, but ordered for tha 
 moment the departure of two Swiss battalions. 
 
 The Kinir, it is true, had liis vein to resist these measures, but he had lost 
 all inllucncc, and could no Iona"er exercise his prerogative. The Assemlily 
 itself could not always withstand the propositions brought forward by certain 
 of its mcmhcrs, and iuJ^'ariably supported by tlie applause of the tribunes. It 
 never failed to declare itself in favour of moderation, when that was possible ; 
 and, whilst it assented on the one hand to the most insurrectional measures, 
 it was seen on the other receiving and approving the most moderate 
 petitions. 
 
 The measures that were adopted, tlic petitions tliat were daily read, and 
 the langiuige that was used in all con\'ersations, indicated a speedy revolu- 
 tion. The (iirondins foresaw and \vislied for it; Init they did not clearly 
 distinguish the means, and dreaded the issue of it. Among the people 
 couiplaiuls were made of their lisde-sncss. They were accused of indolence 
 and incapacity. All the leaders of clubs and sections, weary of eloquent 
 speeches ;vithout result, loudly demanded an active and concentrated direc- 
 tion, that the popular elTorls might not be unavailing. 
 
 There was at the Jacobins a room appropriated to the business of corres- 
 pondence. Here had been formed a central committee of federalists, for the 
 purpose of concerting and arranirin^- their procecdinirs. In order that their 
 resolutions might be the more secret and energetic, this committee was 
 limited to five members, and was called among themselves the insurrcclinnal 
 commit Ice. These five members were Vaufj^eois, grand vicar; Debesse of 
 La Driune ; Guillanme, professor at Caen ; Simon, journalist at Strasburg; 
 and Cialissot of Langres. To tliesc were soon added (^arra, ■• Gorsas, Four- 
 nicr the American, AVestermanA,t Kienlin of Strashurgli, Santerre, Alexan- 
 dre, commandant of the fauxbourg St. Marccau, a Pole named Lazouski, cap- 
 lain of the gunners in the artillery of St. IMarceau, Antoine of Metz, an ex-con- 
 stituent, and Lagrey and Garin, two electors. It was joined by Manuel, 
 Camille Desmoulins,:|: and Danton; and these exercised the gi'eatest influence 
 
 • "J. L. Carra calloJ himself a man oflcUers liefure the Revolution, liecause he haJ writ- 
 ten some bad articles in the Encyclopa".!!.!. At the bcginninfj^ of the troubles, he went to 
 Paris; made Iiimself remarkable among the most violent revolutionists, and, in 1789, pro- 
 posed the formation of the munici|)ality of Paris, and of the city guard. It was Carra who 
 thought of arming the people with pikes. Always preaching up murder and pillage in his 
 writings, he was one of the chiefs of the revolt of the 10th of August, 1792 ; and in his jour- 
 nal, he gloried in having traced out the plan of that day. Being denounced by Robes[)ierre, 
 he was conilemned to death, and executed at the age of fifty. Carra was the author of several 
 works, which have long since sunk, into oblivion." — Biographic Moderne. E. 
 
 f " Fr. J.)seph Westermann, born at I\toIslieim, in Alsace, was an officer under the mo- 
 narchy, but embraced the revolutionary party with ardour. On the 10th of August, he was 
 the first who forced the Tuileries at the head of the Brest battalions. In 1792, and the fol- 
 lowing year, he distinguished himself by his bravery at the head of the Legion du Nord, of 
 which he had obtained the command. Ho was afterwards transferred, with the rank of ge- 
 neral of brigade, to the army which Biron then commanded in La Vendee, ki Chatillon, 
 however, he was completely defeated ; his infantry was cut to pieces ; and he himself escaped 
 with dillWulty. Being attached to the party of the Cordeliers, he was denounced with thein, 
 and executed in 1794, in the fortieth year of his age." — Bioip-aphie Moderne. E. 
 
 " Westermann ran from massacre to massacre, sparing neither adversaries taken in arms, 
 nor even the peaceful inhabitants of the country." — Prndhomme. E. 
 
 I "Camille Desmoulins had natural abilities, some education, but an extravagant imagina- 
 tion. He stammered in his speech, and yet he harangued the mob without appearing ridicu 
 lous, such was the influence which the vehemence of his language had over it. He was fond 
 of pleasure and of amusement of all kinds, and professed a sincere admiration of Robespierre, 
 tvho then seemed to feel a friendship fi)r him." — 3Iemoi7-s of a Peer of France. E. 
 
 VOL. I — 38 
 
298 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 over it.* They entered into arrangements with Barbaroux, who promised 
 the co-operation of his Marsellais, whose arrival was impatiently expected. 
 They placed themselves in communication with Petion, the mayor, and 
 obtained from him a promise not to prevent the insurrection. In return thoy 
 promised him to protect his residence and to place a guard upon it, in order 
 to justify his inaction by an appearance of constraint, if the enterprise should 
 miscarry. 
 
 * Particulars of the events of the lOih of August. 
 
 These particulars are extracteJ from a paper inserted in the Annales PoIUlques, signed 
 Carra, and entitled, Historical Sketch nf the Origin and real Authors of the celebrated Iw 
 surrcction of the \Qlh of August, which has saved the Republic. The author asserts that 
 the mayor had no hand whatever in the success, but that he happened to be in place, on thig 
 occasion, Uke a real Providence for the patriots. 
 
 "Those men, says Jerome Petion, in his excellent speech on the proceedings instituted 
 against Maximilien Robespierre, who have attributed to themselves the glory of that day, are 
 those to whom it least belongs. It is due to those who prepared ; it is due to the imperative 
 nature of things; it is due to the brave federalists and to their secret directory, which had 
 long concerted the plan of the insurrection ,- it is due, in short, to the guardian genius which 
 has constantly governed the destinies of France ever since the first meeting of its repre- 
 sentatives. 
 
 " It is of this secret directory which Jerome Petion speaks, and of which I shall speak in 
 my turn, both as a member of that directory and as an actor in all its operations. This secret 
 directory was formed by the central committee of federalists, which met in the correspondence- 
 room at the Jacobins, St. Honore. It was out of the forty-three members, who daily assem- 
 bled since the commencement of July in that room, that five were selected for the insurrec- 
 tional directory. These five members were Vaugeois, grand-vicar of the Bishop of Blois; 
 Debesse, of t!ie department of La Drome; Guillaume, professor at Caen; Simon, journalist 
 of Strasburg ; and Galissot, of Langress. I was added to these five members at the very 
 moment of the formation of the directory ; and, a few days afterwards, Fournier, the Ameri- 
 can ; Westermann ; Kienlin, of Strasburg ; Santerre ; Alexandre, commandant of the faux 
 bourg St. Marceau ; Antoine of Metz, the ex-constitucnt ; Legrey ; and Garin, elector in 
 1789, were invited to join it. 
 
 " The first meeting of this directory was held in a small public-house, the Soleil d'Or, rue 
 St. Antoine, near the Bastille, in the night between Thuisday and Friday, the 26th of July, 
 after the civic entertainment given to the federalists on the site of the Bastille. Gorsas, the 
 patriot, attended at the public-house, which we left at two in the morning, when we repaired 
 to the column of liberty, on the site of the Bastille, to die there, in case of need, for the 
 country. It was to this public-house, the Soliel d'Or, that Fournier the American brought us 
 the red flag, the invention of which I had proposed, and upon which I had got inscribed these 
 words : Martial Law of the Sovereign People against the Rebellion of the Executive Pouer. 
 It was also to the same house that I took five hundred copies of a posting-bill containing 
 these words : Those who fire on the columns of the people shall instanihj he put to death. 
 This bill, printed in the ofiice of Buisson, the pulilisher, had been carried to Santerre's, 
 •whither I went at midnight to fetch it. Our plan failed this time through the prudence of 
 the mayor, who probably conceived that we were not sufficiently guarded at the moment; 
 and the second active meeting of the directory was adjourned to the 4th of August following. 
 
 "Nearly the same persons attended this meeting, and in addition to them Camille Des- 
 moulins. It was held at the Cadran Bleu, on the boulevard ; and, about eight in the evening, 
 it removed to the lodgings of Antoine, ex-constituent, rue St. Honore, opposite to the As- 
 sumption, in the very same house where Robespierre lives. His landlady was so alarmed at 
 this meeting that she came, about eleven o'clock at night, to ask Antoine if he was going to 
 ^et Robespierre murdered. ' If any one is to be murdered,' replied Antoine, ' no doubt it will 
 be ourselves; Robespierre has nothing to fear from us; let him but conceal himself.' 
 
 •' It was in this second active meeting that I wrote with my own hand the whole plan of 
 the insurrection, of the march of the columns, and of the attack of the palace. Simon made 
 a copy ot this plan, and we sent it to Santerre and Alexandre, about midnight; but a second 
 lime our scheme miscarried, because Alexandre and Santerre were not yet sufficiently pre- 
 pared, and several wished to wait for the discussion fixed for the 10th of August on the sua* 
 pension of the King. 
 
 ** At length, the third active meeting of this directory was held in the night belweoD the 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 299 
 
 The plan definitively adopted was to repair in arms to the palace, and t« 
 depose the King. But it was requisite to set the people in motion, and, to 
 succeed in this purpose, some extraordinary exciting cause was indispensably 
 necessary. Endeavours were made to produce one, and the subject was dis- 
 cussed at the Jacobins. Chabot,-"'' the deputy, expatiated Avith all the ardour 
 of his disposition on the necessity for a great resolution, and he said that, ir. 
 order to bring about such a one, it was desirable that the court should 
 attempt the life of a deputy. Grangcncuve, liimself a deputy, heard this 
 speecli. He was a man of limited understanding, but resolute disposition. 
 He took Chabot aside. " You are right," said he ; "it is expedient that a 
 deputy sliould perish, but the court is too cunning to give us so fair an occa- 
 sion. You must make amends, and put me to death as soon as possible in 
 the environs of tlie palace. Prepare tlie means and keep your secret." 
 Chabot, seized with enthusiasm, offered to share his fate. Grangeneu^e 
 a'^.sented, observing that two deaths would produce a greater effect than one. 
 They agreed upon the day, tlie hour, and the means, of putting an end to 
 their lives, williout maiming; themselves, as they said; and they separated, 
 resolved to sacrifice themselves for tlie success of the common cause. Gran- 
 geneuve, determined to keep Iiis word, put his domestic alfairs in order, and 
 proceeded at half-past ten o'clock at night, to the place of meeting. Chabot 
 was nut there. He wailed. As Chabot did not come, he conceived that 
 he had clianged his mind, but lie hoped lliat, in regard to himself at least, the 
 execution would take place. He walked to and fro several times in expecta- 
 tion of the mortal blow, but was obliged to return, safe and sound, with- 
 out enjoying the satisfaction of immolating himself for the sake of a 
 calumny. t 
 
 The occasion so impatiently looked for did not t^LCur, and the parties 
 
 9tli and 10th of August last, at the moment when the tocsin rang, and in three difTercnt places 
 at the same time; namely, Fournior the American, with some others, at the fauxbourg SL 
 Marcoiin ; Wcstcrmann, 8anterre, and two others, at the fauxbourg St, Antoine; Garin, jour- 
 naHst of Strasburg, and myself, in the barracks of the Marseilluis, and in the very chamber of 
 dhe commandant, where we were seen by the whole IiattaHon. 
 
 "In this sketch, which contains nothing but what is strictly true, and the minutest details 
 of which r defy any person whatever to contradict, it is seen that nothing is said of Marat oi 
 of Robespierre, or of so many others who desire to pass for actors in that affair; and that 
 those who may directly ascribe to themselves the glory of the famous day of the 10(h, are iha 
 persons whom I have named, and who formed the secret directory of the federalist." 
 
 * " F. Chabot, a Capuchin, born in the de[)artmcnt of Aveyron, eacrerly profited by the 
 opportunity of breaking his vows, which the decree of the Constituent Assembly oflcrcd him* 
 In 1792 he was appointed deputy of Loire et Cher to the legislature. In the same year, he 
 went so fur as to cause himself to be slightly wounded by six confidential men, in order 
 that he might accuse the King of being the author of this assassination. It is asserted that 
 he even pressed Merlin and Bazire to murder him, and then to carry his bloody corpse into 
 the fauxbourg, to hasten the insurrection of the people, and the destruction of the monarch. 
 Chabot was one of the chief instigators of the events of the 10th of August, and voted 
 afterwards for the death of the King. He was condemned to death by Robespierre as a par- 
 tizan of the Dantonist faction. When he knew uhat his fate was to be, he poisoned himself 
 with corrosive sublimate of mercury ; but the dreadful pain he suffered having extorted shrieks 
 from him, he was conveyed to the infirmary, and his life prolo»"ged till April, 1794, when 
 ho w".s guillotined. Chabot died with firmness at the age ot thirty-five." — Biographit 
 Modem'.. E. 
 
 t" J, A. Grangeneuve, a lawyer, was a deputy from the Gironde to the legislature. He 
 was one of those who, in concert with the Capuchin, Chabot, agreed to cause themselves to 
 be mangled by men whom they had in pay, in order to exasperate the people against tho 
 court ; but he was afraid of being mangled too effectually, so gave up his project. He wai 
 condemned to death as a Girondin in 1793. Grangeneuve was forty-three years old, and 
 was bjin al Boideaux." — Biographic Modernc. E. 
 
SOO HISTORY OF THE 
 
 began mutually to accuse each other of want of courage, intelligence and 
 unity. The Girondin deputies, Petion the mayor, and, in short, all persons 
 of any eminence, and who were obliged, either in the tribune or in the per-" 
 formance of their official duties, to speak the language of the law, kept them- 
 Eeives more and more aloof, and condemned these incessant agitations, which 
 compromised them without producing any result. They reproached the 
 subaltern agitators with exhausting their strength in partial and useless 
 movements, which exposed the people without leading to any decisive event. 
 The latter, on the contrary, who did in their respective spheres all that they 
 could do, reproached the deputies and Petion, the mayor, for their public 
 speeches, and accused them of repressing the energy of the people. 
 
 Thus the deputies reproached the mass with not being organized, and the 
 latter complained that the deputies themselves were not. The want most 
 sensibly felt was that of a leader. We need a man, was the general ciy, 
 but who is it to be? No fit person was to be found among the deputies. 
 They were all of tliem rather orators than conspirators ; and, besides, their 
 elevated situation and their mode of life removed them too far from the mul- 
 titude, on whom it was necessary to act. In the same predicament were 
 Roland, Servan, and all those men whose courage was undoubted, but 
 whose rank lifted them too high above the populace. Petion might, from 
 his office, have had opportunity to communicate easily with the multitude ; 
 but he was cold, passionless, a.id capable of dying rather than acting. By 
 means of his system of checking petty agitations, for the benefit of a de- 
 cisive insurrection, he thwarted the daily movements, and lost all favour 
 with the agitators, whom he impeded without controlling. They wanted 
 a leader who, not having yet issued from the bosom of the multitude, had 
 not lost all power over it, and who had received from nature the spirit of 
 persuasion. 
 
 A vast field had been opened in the clubs, the sections, and the revolu- 
 tionary papers. Many had there distinguished themselves, but none 
 had yet gained a marked superiority. Camille Desmoulins had acquired 
 notice by his energy, his cynical spirit, his audacity, and his promptness in 
 attacking all those who seemed to flag in the revolutionary career. He was 
 known to the lower classes ; but he had neither the lungs of a popular 
 speaker, nor the activity and powers of persuasion of a party-leader. 
 
 Another public writer had gained a frightful celebrity. This was Marat, 
 known by the name of the Friend of the People^ and who, by his instiga- 
 tions to murder, had become an object of horror to all those who yet retained 
 any moderation. A native of Neufchatel, and engaged in the study of the 
 physical and medical sciences, he had boldly attacked the most firmly-esta- 
 blished systems, and had shown an activity of mind that mio-ht be termed 
 convulsive. He was physician to the stables of Count d'Artois when the 
 Revolution commenced. He rushed Avithout hesitation into a new career, 
 and soon acquired distinction in his section. He was of middle height, 
 with a large head, strongly-marked features, livid complexion, a piercing 
 eye and careless in his personal appearance. It was necessary, he asserted, 
 to strike off several thousand heads, and to destroy all the aristocrats, whc 
 rendered liberty impossible. HoiTor and contempt were alternatbly excited 
 by him. People ran against him, trod upon his toes, made game of his 
 wretched-looking figure ; but accustomed to scientific squabbles and the 
 mosL extravagant assertions, he had learned to despise those who despised 
 him, and he pitied them as incapable of comprehending him. 
 
 Thenceforward he diffused in his papers the horrid doctrine with which 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 301 
 
 he was imbued. The subterraneous life to which he was doomed in ordef 
 to escape justice liad lieated his temperament, and the pubHc horror served 
 still more to excite it. Our polished manners were, according to his notions, 
 but ^ ices whicli were liostile to republican equality; and, in his ardent 
 hatred for the obstacles, he saw but one means of safety — extermination. 
 His studies and liis observations on the physical man must liave accustomed 
 him to conquer the si;ijht of pain; and liis ardent mind, unchecked by any 
 instinct of sensibility, proceeded direcdy to its goal by ways of blood. That 
 same idea of operating by destruction had gradually become systematized 
 in his head. He proposed a dictator, not for the purpose of conferring on 
 him the pleasure of omnipotence, but of imposing upon him the terrible 
 task '^f purifying society. This dictator was to have a cannon-ball attached 
 to his h'g, thai he might always be in the power of the people. He was to 
 have ijiit one faculty left liim, tliat of pointing out victims and ordering 
 death as their only chastisement. Marat knew no other penalty, because 
 he was not for punisliing but for suppressing the obstacle. 
 
 Perceiving aristocrats on all sides conspiring against liberty, he collected 
 here and there all the facts that gratified his passion. He denounced with 
 fury, and with a levity, whicli was the result of that very fury, all the names 
 mentioned to liim, and whicli frequcndy had no existence. He denounced 
 them without personal hatred, without fear, nay, even Avithout danger to 
 liimsclf; l>ecause he was out of the pale of human society, and because the 
 relations between tlie injured and the injurcr no longer existed between him 
 and his fellow-men. 
 
 IJeing recently included in a decree of accusation with Royou, the King's 
 friend, he liad concealed liimself in the house of an obscure and indigent 
 advocate, who had afiorded him an asylum, Barbaroux was requested to 
 call u|")on liim. Barbaroux liad cultivated tlic physical sciences, and had 
 formerly l)een acquainted Avith Marat. He could not refuse to comply with 
 his rc(iuest, and conceived, when he heard him, that his mind was deranged. 
 The French, according to this atrocious man, were but paltry revolutionists. 
 "Give me," said lie, "two hundred Neapolitans, armed Avith daggers, and 
 bearing on the left arm a muH'by Avay of buckler; Avith them I Avill traverse 
 France and produce a revolution." He proposed that, in order to mark the 
 aristocrats, the Assembly should order them to Avear a Avhite ribbon on the 
 arm, and that it should be lawful to kill them Avhen three Avere found toge- 
 ther. Under the name of aristocrats, he included the royalists, the Fcuil- 
 lans, and the Girondins ; and Avhen, by chance, the dithculty of recognising 
 and distinguishing them Avas mentioned, he declared* that it Avas impossible 
 to mistake ; that it Avas only necessary to fall upon those who had carriages, 
 servants, silk clodies, and Avho Avcre coming out of the theatres. All such 
 Avere assuredly aristocrats. 
 
 Barbaroux left him liorror-struck. Marat, full of his atrocious system, 
 concerned himself but little about tlie means of insurrection, and Avas more- 
 over incapaVile of preparing tliem. In his murderous reveries, he feasted 
 himself on the idea of retiring to Marseilles. The republican enthusiasm 
 of that city led him to hope that there he should be better understood and 
 more cordially received. He had thoughts, therefore, of seeking refuge 
 there, and begged Barbaroux to send him thither Avilh his recommendation 
 But the latter, liaving no desire to make such a present to his native city, 
 left that insensate Avretch, Avliose apotheosis he Avas then far from foreseeing, 
 wliere lie found him. 
 
 The systematic and bloodthirsty Marat was not therefore the active chief 
 
302 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 who could have united these scattered and confusedly fermenting masses. 
 Robespierre would have been more capable of doing so, because he had 
 gained at the Jacobins a patronizing circle of auditors, usually more active 
 than a patronizing circle of readers. But neither did he possess the requisite 
 qualities. Robespierre, an aavocate of litde repute at Arras, had been sen» 
 by that city as its deputy to the States-general. There he had connected 
 himself with Petion and Buzot, and maintained with bitterness the opinions 
 which they defended with a deep and calm conviction. At first, he appeared 
 ridiculous, from the heaviness of his delivery and the mediocrity of his elo- 
 quence ; but his obstinacy gained him some attention, especially at the epoch 
 of the revision. When it was rumoured, after the scene in the Champ de 
 Mars, that the persons who had signed the petition of the Jacobins were to 
 be prosecuted, his terror and his youth excited the pity of Buzot and Roland. 
 An asylum was oflfered to him, but he soon recovered from his alarm: and, 
 the Assembly having broken up, he intrenched himself at the Jacobins, 
 where he continued his dogmatic and inflated harangues. Being elected 
 public accuser, he refused that new office, and thought only how to acquire 
 the double reputation of an incorruptible patriot and an eloquent speaker.* 
 
 His first friends, Petion, Buzot, Brissot, and Roland, admitted him to 
 their he uses, and observed with pain his mortified pride, which was betrayed 
 by his looks and by his every motion. They felt an interest for him, and 
 regretted that, thinking so much of the public welfare, he should also think 
 so mucli of himself. He was, however, a person of too little importance for 
 people to be angry with him for his pride ; and it was forgiven on account 
 of his mediocrity and his zeal. It was particularly remarked that, silent in 
 all companies, and rarely expressing his sentiments, he was the first on the 
 following day to retail in the tribune the ideas of others which he had thus 
 collected. This observation was mentioned to him, but unaccompanied with 
 any reproach ; and he soon began to detest this society of superior men, as 
 he had detested that of his constituents. He then betook himself entirely to 
 the Jacobins, where, as we have seen, he differed in opinion from Brissotf 
 
 • "Robespierre felt rebuked and humiliated among the first chiefs of the Revolution; he 
 vowed within himself to be one day without a rival, and started for the goal with an unde- 
 viating, passionless, pitiless fixedness of purpose, which seems more than human. He is a 
 proof what mediocre talents suffice to make a tyrant. His views were ordinary — his thoughts 
 were low — his oratory was wretched. But he was a man of a single ruling idea, and of in» 
 defatigable perseverance. His devouring ambition was not to be confounded with that of a 
 common usurper aspiring at political tyranny. It was rather that of the founder of a secJ, 
 and even a fanatic in his way. He seems to have formed for himself a system out of the 
 boldest and wildest visions of Rousseau, domestic, social, and political. But he had not a 
 particle of the fervour, eloquence, or enthusiasm of that philosopher. To propagate the new 
 creed by persuasion, was, therefore, not thought of by him ; but he had craft, hypocrisy, im- 
 penetrable reserve, singleness of purpose, and apathetic cruelty ; and, accordingly, he resolved 
 to effect his vast scheme of reform by immolating a whole generation. Robespierre was 
 severe, frugal, and insensible to the pomps, vanities, seductions, and allurements which cor- 
 rupt or influence the great mass of the world." — ■Briiiah and Foreign Review. E. 
 
 ■j- The following is the opinion entertained of Brissot by Lafayette, who knew him well: 
 " It is impossible not to be struck with various contrasts in the life of Brissot : a clever man, 
 undoubtedly, and a skilful journalist, but whose talents and influence have been greatly over- 
 rated both by friends and enemies. In other times, before he became a republican, he had 
 mad*^ the old regime a subject of eulogy. It seems preify well proved that, a few days before 
 tne 10th of August, he, and some agitators of his party, had been intriguing with the valets- 
 ile-chambrc of the Tuileries; even after this insurrection, their only desire was to govern in 
 the name of the prince royal. Brissot, on the very eve of denouncing Lafayette, told the 
 Abbe Duvcrnet, then member of the society of Jacobins, that the person he was going tc 
 Bccu.se, was the man of all others whom he esteemed and revered the most. Even while 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 303 
 
 and Louvet on the question of war, and called them, nay, perhaps believed 
 them to be, bad citizens, because their sentiments did not coincide with his, 
 and they supported their opinions with eloquence. Was he sincere, when 
 lie immediately suspected those who had opposed him, or did he slander 
 them AviU'ully ? These are the mysteries of minds. But, with a narrow 
 and common intellect, and with extreme susceptibility, it was easy to give 
 him unfavourable impressions and difficult to correct them. It is therefore 
 not impossible that a hatred from pride may have changed in him to a hatred 
 from principle, and that he soon believed all those to be wicked who had 
 offended him. 
 
 Be this as it may, in the lower sphere in which he moved, he excited 
 enthusiasm by his dogmatism and by his reputation for incorruptibility. He 
 thus founded his popularity upon blind passions and moderate understand- 
 ings. Austerity and cold dogmatism captivate ardent characters, nay, often 
 superior minds. There were actually men who were disposed to discover 
 in Robespierre real energy and talents superior to those which he pos- 
 isesscd. Camille Desmoulins called him his Aristides, and thought him 
 eloquent. 
 
 Others, without talents, but subdued by his pedantry, went about repeating 
 that he was the man who ought to be put at the head of the Revolution, and 
 that without such a dictator it could not go on. For his part, winking at all 
 these assertions of his partisans, he never attended any of the secret meetings 
 of the conspirators. He complained even of being compromised, because 
 one of them dwelling in the same house as himself had occasionally brought 
 thither the insurrectional committee. He kept himself, therefore, in the 
 back-ground, leaving the business of acting to his panegyrists, Panis, 
 SergcRt, Osselin, and other members of the sections and of the municipal 
 couucils. 
 
 Marat, who was looking for a dictator, wished to ascertain if Robespierre 
 was fit for tlie office. The neglected and cynical person of Marat formed a 
 striking contrast to that of Robespierre, who was particularly attentive to 
 external appearance. In the retirement of an elegant cabinet, where his 
 image was repeated in all possible ways, in painting, in engraving, and in 
 sculpture, he devoted himself to assiduous study, and was continually read- 
 ing Rousseau, in order to glean ideas for his speeches. Marat saw him, 
 found in him nothing but petty animosities, no great system, none of that 
 sanguinary audacity which he himself derived from his monstrous convic- 
 tions — iu short, no genius. He departed, filled with contempt for this little 
 man, declared him incapable of saving the state, and became more firmly 
 persuaded than ever that he alone possessed the grand social system. 
 
 The partisans of Robespierre surrounded Barbaroux, and wished to con- 
 duct the latter to him, saying that a man was wanted, and that Robespierre 
 alone could be that man. This language displeased Barbaroux, whose bold 
 spirit could not brook the idea of a dictatorship, and whose ardent imagina- 
 tion was already seduced by the virtue of Roland and the talents of his 
 friends. He called nevertheless on Robespierre. They talked, during the 
 interview, of Petion, whose popularity threw Robespierre into the shade, 
 and who, it was alleged, was incapable of serving the Revolution. Barba- 
 roux replied with warmth to the reproaches urged against Petion, ana, as 
 warmly defended a character which he admired. Robespierre talked of the 
 
 continuing to calumniate Lafayette, he testified in private for him the same esteem to varioui 
 persons — LorJ Lauderdale, among others — a witness whose evidence will hardly be refused 
 and who often snoke of it in London." — Lafayette's Memoirs E. 
 
304 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Revolation, and repeated, according to his custom, that he had accelerated 
 its march. He concluded, as everybody else did, by saying that a leader 
 was wanted. Barbaroux replied that he wanted neither dictator nor Kin or. 
 Freron observed that Brissot was desirous of being dictator. Thus reproaches 
 were bandied from one to the other, and they could not agree. As thev 
 went away, Panis, wishing to counteract the bad effect of this interview, 
 said to Barbaroux that he had mistaken the matter, that it was but a mo- 
 mentary authority that was contemplated, and that Robespierre was the only 
 man on whom it could be conferred. It was these vague expressions, these 
 petty rivalries, which falsely persuaded the Girondins that Robespierre de- 
 signed to act the usurper. An ardent jealousy was mistaken in him for 
 ambition. But it was one of those errors which the confused vision of par- 
 ties is continually committing. Robespierre, capable at the utmost of hating 
 merit, had neither the strength nor the genius of ambition, and his partisans 
 raised pretensions for him which he himself would not have dared to con- 
 ceive. 
 
 Danton Avas more capable than any other of being the leader whom all 
 ardent imaginations desired, for the purpose of giving unity to the revolu- 
 tionary movements. He had formerly tried the bar, but without success. Poor 
 and consumed by passions, he then rushed into the political commotions 
 with ardour, and probably with hopes. He was ignorant, but endowed with 
 a superior understanding and a vast imagination. His athletic figure, his 
 flat and somewhat African features, his thundering voice, his eccentric but 
 grand images, captivated his auditors at the Cordeliers and the sections.. His 
 face expressed by turns the brutal passions, jollity, and even good-nature. 
 Danton neither envied nor hated anybody, but his audacity was extraordinary; 
 and, in certain moments of excitement, he was capable of executing all that 
 the atrocious mind of Marat was capable of conceiving. 
 
 A Revolution, the unforeseen but inevitable effect of which had been to 
 set the lower against the upper classes of society, could not fail to awaken 
 envy, to give birth to new systems, and to let loose the brutal passions. 
 Robespierre was the envious man, Marat the systematic man, and Danton 
 the impassioned, violent, fickle, and by turns cruel and generous man. If 
 the two former, engrossed, the one by a consuming envy, the other by mis- 
 chievous systems, could not have many of those wants which render men 
 accessible to corruption, Danton, on the contrary, the slave of his passions, 
 and greedy of pleasure, must have been nothing less than incorruptible. 
 Under pretext of compensating him for the loss of his former place of advo- 
 cate to the council, the court gave him considerable sums. But, though it 
 contrived to pay, it could not gain him. •• He continued, nevertheless, to 
 harangue and to excite the mob of the clubs against it. When he was 
 reproached with not fulfilling his bargain, he replied that, in order to retam 
 
 * " I never saw any countenance that so strongly expressed the violence of brutal passions, 
 and the most astonishing audacity, half-disguised by a jovial air, an affectation of frankness, 
 and a sort of simplicity, as D>)nton's. In 1789 he was a needy lawyer, more burdened with 
 debts than causes. He went to Belgium to augment his resources, and, after the 10th of 
 j^ugust, had the hardihood to avow a fortune of 158,333/., and to wallow in luxury, while 
 preaching sans-culottism, and sleeping on heaps of slaughtered men." — Madame Roland's 
 Memoirs. E. 
 
 "Danton was an exterminator without ferocity ; inexorable with regard to the mass, but 
 humane and even generous towards individuals. At the time when the commune was 
 meditating the massacres of September, he saved all who came to him ; and, of his own 
 accord, discharged from prison Duport, Barnave, and Charles Lameth, who were in some 
 measure his personal antagonists," — Mignet. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 305 
 
 the means of serving ilie court, he was obliged in appearance to treat it as 
 an enemy. 
 
 Danton was therefore the most formidable leader of those bands which 
 were won and guided by public oratory. But, audacious and fond of luirry'- 
 ing forward to the decisive moment, he was not capable of tliat assiduous 
 toil wliicli tlie lliirst of rule requires; and, though he possessed great influ- 
 ence over the conspirators, he did not yet govern them. He was merely 
 capable, when tliey liesitated, of rousing tlieir courage and propelling them 
 to a goal by a decisive plan of operation. 
 
 The diHerent members of the insurrectional committee had not yet been 
 able to agree. The court, apprized of their slightest movements, took, on 
 its part, some measures for screening itself against a sudden attack, so that 
 it might be enabled to await in safety the arrival of the coalesced powers. 
 It had formed a club, called tlie Frencli club, wliich met near the palace, and 
 was composed of artisans and soldiers of the national guard. Tliey had all 
 their arms concealed in the very building in whicli tliey assembled; and tliey 
 could, in case of emergency, hasten to the aid of tlie royal family. This 
 single association cost tlie civil list ten thousand francs per day. A Marseil- 
 lais, named Lieutaud, kept morco\er in pay a band wliicli alternately occu- 
 pied the tribunes, the public places, the coiree-houses, and llie public-houses, 
 for the purpose of speaking in favour of tlie King, and o])posing the continual 
 tumults of tlie patriots.' Quarrels occurred, in f;\ct, everywhere, and from 
 words the parties almost always came to blows ; but, in spite of all the efforts 
 of the court, its adherents were tliinly scattered, and that portion of the 
 national guard which was attached to it was reduced to the lowest state of 
 discouragement. 
 
 A great number of faithful servants, who had till then been at a distance 
 from the throne, had come forward to defend the King and to make a ram- 
 part for him witii their bodies. Their meetings at the palace Avcre numerous, 
 and they increased the public distrust. After the scene in February, 1790, 
 they were called kniglUs of the dagger. Letters had been delivered for the 
 purpose of calling secretly together the constitutional guard, wliich, though 
 disbanded, had always received its pay. During this time, conllicting opi- 
 nions were maintained around the King, which produced tlie most painful 
 perplexities in his weak and naturally wavering mind. Some intelligent 
 friends, among others, Malesherbes,t advised liim to abdicate. Others, and 
 these constituted the majority, recommended flight. For the rest, they were 
 far from agreeing either upon the means, or the place, or the result of the 
 invasion. In order to reconcile these different plans, the King desired Bei- 
 trand de Molleville to see and to arrange matters with Duport, tlie constituent. 
 The Kinff had irreat confidence in the latter, and he was obliged to give a 
 positive order to Bertrand, Avho alleged that he disliked to have any com- 
 munication witli a constitutionalist such as Duport. J To this committee 
 belonged also Lally-ToUendal, Mallouet, Clcrmont-Tonnerre, Gouvernet, 
 and others, all devoted to Louis XVL, but otherwise differing widely as to 
 
 • See Bertrand c3e Molleville, tomes viii. anJ ix. f See Ibid. 
 
 t " Bertrand de Molleville, a stanch royalist, was, first controller of Brclagne, and afte?- 
 wards niinistiT of marine, to which post he was appointed in 1791. After the events of the 
 lOlh of August, he was imprisoned liy the Jacobins, but succeeded in mal-ing his escape to 
 London, where he published a voluminous history of the Revolution, which met with great 
 success. He did not return to Paris after the ISth of Brumaire (1799), but followed the 
 fortunes of the Bourbons." — BlograpMe Moderne. E. 
 
 VOL. I — 39 
 
306 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 the part which royalty ought to be made to act, if they could contrive to 
 save it. 
 
 The flight of the King and his retreat to the castle of GaiUon, in Nor- 
 mandy, were then resolved upon. The Duke de Liancourt, a friend of the 
 King, and possessing his unlimited confidence, commanded that province. 
 He answered for his troops and for the inhabitants of Rouen, who had, in 
 an energetic address, declared themselves against the 20th of June. He 
 offered to receive the royal family, and to conduct it to Gaihon, or to con- 
 sign it to Lafayette, who would convey it into the midst of his army. He 
 offered, moreover, his whole fortune for the purpose of seconding this pro- 
 ject, asking permission to reserve for his children merely an annuity of one 
 hundred louis. This plan was liked by the constitutional members of the 
 committee, because, instead of placing the King in the hands of the emigrants, 
 it put him under the care of the Duke de Liancourt and Lafayette. For the 
 same reason it displeased others, and was likely to displease the Queen and 
 the King. Still, the casde of Gaillon possessed the important advantage of 
 being only thirty-six leagues from the sea, and of oflcring an easy fiioht to 
 England through Normandy, a favourably-disposed province. It had also 
 anotlier, namely, that of being only twenty leagues from Paris. The Kintr 
 could therefore repair thither without violating the constitutional law ; and 
 this had great weight with him, for he was extremely tenacious of not com- 
 mitting any open infringement of it. 
 
 M. de Narbonne and Necker's daughter, Madame de Stael,* likewise de- 
 vised a plan of flight. The emigrants, on their part, proposed another. 
 This was to carry the King to Compiegne, and thence to the banks of the 
 Rhine, throught the forest of the Ardennes. Every one is eager to offer 
 advice to a weak King, because every one aspires to impart to him a will 
 which he has not. So many contrary sugijestions added to the natural inde- 
 cision of Louis XVL ; and this unfortunate prince, beset by conflicting coun- 
 sels, struck by the reason of some, hurried away by the passion of others, 
 tortured by apprehensions concerning the fate of his family, and disturbed 
 by scruples of conscience, wavered between a tliousand projects, and beheld 
 the popular flood approaching without daring either to flee from or to con- 
 front it.t 
 
 • " The Baroness de Stael-Holstein, was the daughter of the well-known NeoRer. Her birth, 
 her tastes, her principles, the reputation of her father, and above all, her conduct in the Revo- 
 lution, brought her prominently before the world : and the polidcal factions, and the literary 
 circles with which she has been connected, have by turns disputed with each other for her 
 fame. A.ftcr the death of Robespierre, she returned to Paris, and became an admirer of Bona- 
 parte, with whom she afterwards quarrelled, and who banished her from France. She went 
 to live at Coppet, where she received the last sighs of her father, and where she herself died. 
 Slie published many works, the best of which is her novel of ' Corinnc.' When in England, 
 in 1812, she was much courted by the higher classes." — Biographic Moderne. E. 
 
 ■\ " The errors of Louis XVI. may truly be said to have originated in a virtuous principle. 
 As to his weaknesses, I shall not endeavour to conceal them. I have more than once had 
 occasion to lament the indecision of this unfortunate prince; his repugnance to adopt the 
 bold measures which might have saved him; and his want of that energy of character, and 
 eelf-confidence which impose on the multitude, who are ever prone to believe that he who 
 tomtnands with lirmness and an air of authority possesses the means of enforcing obedience. 
 IJut I will venture to say, that the very faults above enumerated did not belong to his natural 
 character, but were ingrafted on it by the selfish indolence of M, de Maurcpas." — Private 
 Ahmoirs of Berirand de Mullevi/k, E. 
 
 " Louis XVI. was the grandson of Louis XV., and the second son of the dauphin by his 
 Bccond wife, Marie Josephine, daughter of Frederick Augustus, King of Poland and Elector 
 of Saxony. Louis was born in 175t, and in 1770 married Marie Antoniette cf Austria 
 
FRENCH REVOi^aXION. 307 
 
 The Girondin deputies, who had so boldly broached the question of the 
 forfeiture of the crown, continued, nevertheless, undecided on the eve of an 
 insurrection; and, thougli the court was almost disarmed, and the supreme 
 power was on the side of the people, still the approach of the Prussians, and 
 the dread always excited by an old authority, even after it is disarmed, per- 
 suaded them tliat it would be better to come to terms with the court than to 
 expose themselves to the chances of an attack. In case this attack sliould 
 even prove successful, tliey feared lest tlie arrival of the Prussians, which 
 was very near at hand, should destroy all the results of a victory over the 
 palace, and cause a momentary success to be followed by terrible vengeance. 
 
 Notwithstandino-, however, this disposition to treat, they opened no nego- 
 tiations on (he subject, and durst not venture to make the lirst oxertures; but 
 they listened to a man named Boze, painter to the King, and very intimate 
 with Thierry, valet-de-ciiambre of Louis XVI. Boze, alarmed at the 
 dangers which threatened the pulilic v/oal, exhorted them to write what 
 they thought proper, in this extremity, to save tlie King and liberty. They 
 accordingly drew up a letter, which was signed by Guadet, Gensonne, and 
 Vergniaud, and which began with these v^'ords. *' You ask us, sir, what is 
 our opinion respecting the present situation of France." Tiiis exordium 
 sufllciently proves that the explanation had been called for. . was no longer 
 time, said the three deputies to Boze, for the King to deceive l>imself, and 
 lie would do so most cgrcgiously, if he did not perceive that his conduct was 
 the cause of the general agitation, and of that violence of the clubs of which 
 he was continually complaining. New protestations on his part would be 
 useless, and appear derisory, for at the point to which things had come, de- 
 cisive steps were absolutely necessary to gi\e conlidence to the people. 
 E^'crybody, for instance, was persuaded that it was in the power of the King 
 to keep the foreign armies away. He ouglit, therefore, to begin by making 
 them draw bark. He sliould then choose a patriotic ministry, dismiss 
 liafayette, who, in the existing state of affairs, could no longer serve him use- 
 fully, issue a law for the constitutional education of the young dauphin, sub- 
 mit to the public accountability of the civil list, and solemnly declare that he 
 would not accept any increase of power M'ithout the free consent of the 
 nation. On these conditions, added the Girondins, it was to be hoped tliat the 
 irritation would subside, and that, in time and by perseverance in this sys- 
 tem, the King would recover the confidence which he had then entirely lost. 
 
 Assuredly, the Girondins were very near the attainment of their aim, if a 
 
 With llic liost intentions, but utterly inexperienced in government, he ascended the throne in 
 1V71, when he was hardly twenty years of age. In his countenance, which was not desti- 
 tute of dignity, were dehneated the prominent features of his character — integrity, indecision, 
 and weakness. He was somewhat stilT in demeanour; and his manners had none of the 
 grace possessed by almost all the princes of the blood. He was fond of reading, and en- 
 dowed with a most retentive memory. He translated some parts of Gibbon's history. It wag 
 the fault of this unt'ortunate monarch to yield too easily to the extravagant tastes of the Queen 
 and the court. The latter years of his reign were one continued scene of tumult and con- 
 fusion ; and he was guillotined in 1793, in the 39th year of his age. He was buried in the 
 Mac;dalen church-yard, Paris, between the graves of those who were crushed to death in the 
 crowd at the Louvre, on the anniversary of his marriage in 1774, and of the Swiss who fell 
 on the lOlh of August, 1792." — Encydopsedia Americana. E. 
 
 " The Revolution was an inheritance bequeathed to Louis by his ancestors. He was more 
 fitted than any of those who preceded him, to prevent or terminate it; for he was capable of 
 being a reformer bcfjrc it brolvc out, or of being a constitutional monarch after it. He is per 
 haps the only prince who, destitute of passions, had not even that of power. With a littla 
 more strength of mind, Louis would have been a model of a king." — Mip;nct. E. 
 
SOS HISTORY OF THE 
 
 republic had been a system for which they had long and steadily conspired, 
 And, when so near this goal, would they have stopped short, and even have 
 renounced it, to obtain the ministry for three of their friends ! This was not 
 likely, and it becomes evident that a republic was desired only from despair 
 of the monarchy, that it never was a nxed plan, and that, on the very eve of 
 attaining it, those who are accused of having long paved the way to it would 
 not sacrifice the public weal for its sake, but would have consented to a con- 
 stitutional monarchy, if it were accompanied with sufficient safeguards. The 
 care taken by the Girondins to demand the removal of the foreign troops 
 plainly proves that they were wholly engrossed by the existing danger; and 
 the attention which they paid to the education of the dauphin affords as 
 strong a proof that monarchy was not to them an insupportable prospect for 
 the future. 
 
 It has been asserted that Brissot, on his part, had made offers to prevent 
 the dethronement of the King, and that the payment of a very large sum was 
 one of the conditions. This assertion is advanced by Bertrand de Molleville, 
 who always dealt in calumny for two reasons — malignity of heart, and false- 
 ness of mind. But he adduces no proof of it; and the known poverty of 
 Brissot and his enthusiastic principles ought to answer for him. It is, to be 
 sure, not impossible that the court might have consigned money to the care 
 of Brissot; but this would not prove that the money was either asked for or 
 received by him. The circumstance already related respecting Petion, whom 
 certain swindlers undertook to bribe for the court — this circumstance, and 
 many others of the same kind, sufficiently prove what credit ought to be at- 
 tached to these charges of venality, so frequently and so easily hazarded. 
 Besides, let matters stand as they will in regard to Brissot, the three deputies, 
 Guadet, Gensonne, and Vergniaud, have not even been accused, and they 
 were the only persons who signed the letter delivered to Boze. 
 
 The deeply wounded heart of the King was less capable than ever of list- 
 ening to their prudent advice. Thierry handed him the letter, but he harshly 
 pushed it back, and returned his two accustomed answers, that it was not he 
 but the patriotic ministry who had provoked the war, and that, as for the 
 constitution, he adhered to it faithfully, whilst others were exerting all their 
 eflbrts to destroy it.'*- These reasons were not the most just; for, though 
 he had not provoked the war, it was not the less his duty to carry it on with 
 vigour; and, as for his scrupulous fidelity to the letter of the law, the observ- 
 ance of that letter was of little consequence. It behoved him not to com- 
 promise the thing itself by calling in foreigners. 
 
 * Copy of the Letter writ ten to Citizen Boze, hy Guadet, Vergniaud, and Gensonni 
 
 You ask us, sir, what is our opinion respecting the present situation of France, and the 
 choice of the measures that are capable of protecting the pubHc weal from the urgent dangers 
 with which it is threatened ; this is a subject of uneasiness to good citizens and the object of 
 their profoundest meditations. 
 
 Since you question us upon such important interests, we shall not hesitate to explain our 
 sentiments with frankness. 
 
 It can no longer be denied that the conduct of the executive power is the immediate cause 
 of all the evils that afflict France and of the dangers that surround the throne. They only 
 deceive the King, who strive to persuade him that exaggerated opinions, the effervescence of 
 toe clubs, the manceuvres of certain agitators, and powerful factions, have occasioned and 
 keep up those commotions, the violence of which each day is liable to increase, and the con- 
 sequences of which it will perhaps be no longer possible to calculate : this is placing the 
 cause of the disorder in its eymptoma. 
 
 If the people were easy respecting the success of a revolution so dearly bought, if thff 
 »>ublic liberty were no longer in danger, if the conduct of the King excited wo distriw* 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 309 
 
 To the hopes entertained by the Girondins that their counsels would be 
 'oUowed must no doubt be attributed the moderation which they displayed 
 
 opinions would finJ iheir level of themselves ; the great mass of the citizens would only think 
 of enjoying the benefits insured to them hy the constitution; and if, in this state of things, 
 factions should still exist, they would cease to be dangerous — they would no longer have 
 either pretext or object. 
 
 But, so long as the public liberty shall be in danger, so long as the alarms of the citizens 
 Bhall be kept up by the conduct of the executive power, and conspiracies hatched within and 
 without the realm shall appear to be more or less openly encouraged by the King, this state 
 of things necessarily produces disturbances, disorder, and factions. In the best-constituted 
 stales, slates that have been constituted for ages, revolutions have no other principle ; and 
 with us the efll'ct must be the more prompt, inasmuch as there has been no interval between 
 the movements which led to the first and those which seem at this day to indicate a second 
 revolution. 
 
 It is, therefore, but too evident that the present state of things must lead to a crisis, almost 
 all the chances of which will be against royalty. In fact, the interests of the King are sepa- 
 rated from those of the nation : the first public functionary of a free nation is made a 
 party-leader, and, by this horrible policy, the odium of all the evils that afflict France is 
 thrown upon him. 
 
 Ah ! what can be the success of the foreign powers, even though, by means of their inter 
 vention, the authority of the King should be enlarged, and a new form given to the govern- 
 ment] Is it not evident that those who have entertained the idea of this Cv ngress, have 
 sacrificed to their prejudices, to their private interest, the very interest of the monarch ; that 
 the success of these manoeuvres would impart a character of usurpation to powers which the 
 nation alone delegates, and which nothing but its confidence can uphold ? Why have they 
 not perceived that the force which should bring about this change would long be necessary 
 for its conservation ; and that there would thus be sown in the bosom of the kingdom the 
 seed of dissensions and discord, which the lapse of several ages could alone stifle! 
 
 Alike sincerely and invariably attached to the interests of the nation, from which we 
 never shall se[)arate those of the King so long as lie does not separate them himself, we 
 think that the only way of preventing the evils with which the empire is threatened and to 
 restore tranquillity, would be for the King, by his conduct, to put an end to all cause for 
 alarm, to speak out by facts in the most frank and unequivocal manner, and to surround 
 himself, in short, with the confidence of the people, which alone constitutes his strength and 
 can alone constitute his happiness. 
 
 It is not at this time of day that he can accomplish this by new protestations ; they would 
 be derisory, and in the present circumstances they would assume a character of irony, v\hi>.b, 
 so far from dispelling alarm, would only increase the danger. 
 
 There is only one from which any elTect could be expected ; namely, a most solemn 
 declaration that in no case would the King accept any augmentation of power that was not 
 voluntarily granted by the French people, without the concurrence and intervention of any 
 foreign power, and freely discussed according to the constitutional forms. 
 
 Oil this head it is even remarked that several members of the National Assembly know 
 that such a declaration was proposed to the King, when he submitted the proposition for war 
 against the King of Hungary, and that he did not think fit to make it. 
 
 But it might perhaps suflice to re-establish confidence, if the King were to prevail on the 
 coalesced powers to acknowledge the independence of the French nation, to put an end to all 
 hostilities, and to withdraw the cordons of troops which threaten the frontiers. 
 
 It is impossible for a very great part of the nation to help feeling convinced that the King 
 has it in his power to dissolve this coalition ; and, so long as it shall endanger the public 
 liberty, we must not flatter ourselves that confidence can revive. 
 
 If the efforts of the King for this purpose were unavailing, he ought at least to assist the 
 nation, by all the means in his power, to repel the external attack, and not neglect anything 
 to remove from himself the suspicion of encouraging it. 
 
 In this supposition, it is easy to conceive that suspicion and distrust originate in unfortu 
 nate circumstances, which it is impossible to change. 
 
 To make a crime of these, when the danger is real and cannot be mistaken, is the readiest 
 way to increase suspicion : to complain of exaggeration, to attack the clubs, to inveigh 
 against agitators, when the effervescence and agitation are the natural effect of circumstances, 
 is to give them new strength, to augment the perturbation of the people by the very mewaii 
 that are employed to calm iU 
 
310 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 when it was proposed to take up the question of the forfeiture of the crown—* 
 a question daily discussed in the clubs, among the groups out of doors, and 
 in petitions. Whenever they came, in the name of the commission of 
 twelve, to speak of the danger of the country and the means of preventing 
 it, they were met by the cry of " Go back to the cause of the danger" — 
 " To the cause," repeated the tribunes. Vergniaud, Brissot, and the Gi- 
 rondins, replied that they had their eyes upon the cause, and that in due 
 time it should be unveiled ; but for the moment it behoved them not to 
 throw down a fresh apple of discord. 
 
 In consequence of an entertainment given to the federalists, the insurrec- 
 tional committee resolved that its partizans should meet on the morning of 
 the 2Gth of July, for the purpose of proceeding to the palace, and that they 
 should march with the red flag, bearing this inscription: '•'■Those ivho Jire 
 upon the columns of the people shall instantly be put to death.'''' Theinten- 
 
 Wliilst there shall be a subsisting and known action against liberty, reaction is inevitable, 
 and the development of both will be equally progressive. 
 
 In so arduous a situation, tranquillity can be restored only by the absence of all danger; 
 and, until this happy period shall arrive, it is of the utmost importance to the nation and to 
 the King that these unhappy circumstances be not imbittered by conduct, at least equivocal, 
 on the part of the agents of the executive power. 
 
 1. Why does not the King choose his ministers from among those who are most decided 
 in favour of the Revolution 1 Why, in the most critical moments, is he surrounded only by 
 men who are unknown or suspected '^ If it could be advantageous to the King to increaso 
 the distrust and to excite the people to commotions, could he pursue a more likely course to 
 foment them 1 
 
 The selection of ministers has been at all times one of the most important prerogatives of 
 the power with which the King is invested ; it is the thermometer according to which the 
 public opinion has always judged of the dispositions of the court; and it is easy to conceive 
 vvhat might be at this day the effect of that choice, which, in very different times, would have 
 excited the most violent murmurs. 
 
 A thoroughly patriotic ministry would, therefore, be one of the best means that the King 
 can employ to restore confidence. But he would egregiously deceive himself, who should 
 suppose that by a single step of this kind it could be easily recovered. It is only in the 
 course of time and by continued efforts that one can flatter oneself with the proitpect of 
 erasing impressions too deeply engraven to be removed at the instant to the very slightest 
 Testige. 
 
 2. At a moment when all the means of defence ought to be employed, when France 
 cannot arrn all her defenders, why has not the King offered the muskets and the horses of 
 his guard ? 
 
 3. Why does not the King himself solicit a law for subjecting the civil list to a form of 
 accountability, which can assure the nation that it is not diverted from its legitimate purpose 
 and applied to other uses ? 
 
 4. One of the best means of making the people easy respecting the personal dispositions 
 of the King would be for him to solicit himself a law relative to the education of the prince- 
 royal, and thus hasten the moment when the care of that young prince shall be consigned to 
 a governor possessing the confidence of the nation. 
 
 5. Complaints are still made that the decree for disbanding the staff of the national guard 
 is not sanctioned. These numerous refusals of sanction to legislative measures which public 
 opinion earnestly demands, and the urgency of which cannot be mistaken, provoke the 
 examination of the constitutional question respecting the application of the veto to laws of 
 circumstance, and are not of such a nature as to dispel alarm and discontent. 
 
 6. It is of great importance that the King should withdraw the command of the army 
 from M. Lafayette. It is at least evident that he cannot usefully serve the public cause there 
 any longer. 
 
 We shall conclude this slight sketch with a general observation: it is this, that whatever 
 can remove suspicion and revive confidence cannot and ought not to be neglected. The 
 constitution is saved if the King takes this resolution with courage, and if he persists in it 
 with firmness. 
 
 Wo are, &c 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 311 
 
 dOii "vas to make the King prisoner and to confine him at Vincennes. The 
 na'.i'^nal guard at Versailles had been requested to second this movement; 
 nut *he application had been made so laie, and there was so little concert 
 with that corps, that its ofFicers came on the very same morning to the 
 mayor's residence at Paris, to inquire how they were to act. Tlie secret 
 was so ill kept tliat the court was already apprized of it. All the royal 
 family was stirring, and the palace was full of people. Petion perceiving 
 that the measures had not been judiciously taken, fearful of some treachery, 
 and considering moreover that the Marscillais had not yet arrived, repaired 
 in the utmost haste to the fauxbourg, to stop a movement which must have 
 ruined the popular party if it had not succeeded. 
 
 The tumuit in the fauxbourgs was tremendous. The tocsin had been 
 ringmg there all night. The rumour spread fur the purpose of exciting the 
 people was, that a quantity of arms had been collected in the palace, and 
 they were uiged to go and bring tliem avvay. Petion succeeded, with great 
 diflicult}^ in restoring order, and Champion de Cice, keeper of the seals, 
 who also repaired to the spot, received several sabre strokes. At length the 
 people consented to stay, and the insurrection was deferred. 
 
 The petty quarrels and wranglings which are the usual prelude to a defini- 
 tive rupture, continued without intermission. 'J'he King had caused the 
 garden of the Tuileries to be closed ever since the 20th of June. The 
 Terrace of the Fcuillans, leading to the Assembly, was alone open; and the 
 sentries had directions not to sutler any person to pass from that terrace into 
 the garden. D'Espremcnil was there met conversing loudly with a deputy. 
 He was hooted, pursued into the garden, and carried to the Palais Royal, 
 where he received several wounds. The prohibition to penetrate into the 
 garden having been violated, a motion was made for supplying its place by 
 a decree. The decree, however, was not passed. It was merely proposed 
 to set up a board with the words, '■'' It is fDrlnddcii to trespass an f/icse 
 groiDulsy The board was accordingly erected, and it was suflicientto pre- 
 vent the people from setting foot in the garden, though the King had caused 
 the sentries t© be removed. Thus courtesy ceased to be any longer observed. 
 A letter from Nancy, for instance, reported several civic traits which had 
 occurred in that city. The Assembly immediately sent a copy of it to the 
 King. 
 
 At length, on the 30th of July, the Marscillais arrived. They were five 
 hundred in number, and their ranks comprised all the most fiery spirits that 
 the South could produce, and all the most turbulent characters that com- 
 merce brought to the port of Marseilles. Barbaroux went to Charenton to 
 meet them. On this occasion a new scheme Avas concerted with Santerre. 
 It Avas proposed, upon pretext of going to meet the Marscillais, to collect the 
 people of the fauxbourgs, and afterwards to repair in good order to the Car- 
 rousel, and there encamp without tumult, imtil the Assembly had suspended 
 the Kino-, or till he had abdicated of his own accord. 
 
 This project pleased the philanthropists of the party, who would fain have 
 terminated the Revolution without bloodshed. It failed, however, because 
 Santerre did not succeed in assembling the fauxbourg, and could lead only a 
 small number of men to meet the Marscillais. Santerre immediately oflered 
 them a repast, which was served up in the Champs Elysces. On the same 
 day, and at the same moment, a party of the national 2;uards of the battalion 
 3f the Filles St. Thomas, and of other persons, clerks or military men, 
 wholly devoted to the court, were dining near the spot where the Marseillaia 
 were being entertained. Most assuredly this dinner had not been prepared 
 
312 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 with the intention of disturbing that of the Marseillais, since the offer made to 
 the latter was unexpected, for, instead of an entertainment, it was an insur- 
 rection that had been contemplated. It was, nevertheless, impossible for 
 neiglibonrs so adverse to finish their repast quietly. The populace insulted 
 the royalists, who put themselves upon the defensive. The patriots, sum- 
 moned to the aid of the populace, hastened with ardour to the place, and a 
 battle ensued. It was not long, for the Marseillais, rushing upon their ad- 
 versaries, put them to flight, Ivilling one, and wounding several others. In 
 a moment all Paris was in commotion. The federalists paraded the streets, 
 and tore off the cockades of ribbon, saying that tliey ought to be made of 
 woollen. 
 
 Some of the fugitives arrived, covered with blood, at the Tuileries, where 
 they were kindly received, and attentions were paid to them which were 
 perfectly natural, since they were regarded as friends Avho had suffered for 
 their attachment. The national guards on duty at the palace related these 
 particulars, perhaps added to them, and this furnished occasion for fresh 
 reports, and fresh animosity against the royal family and the ladies of tx.j 
 court, who, it was said, had wiped off the perspiration and the blood of the 
 wounded. It was even concluded that the scene had been prepared, and 
 this was the motive for a new accusation against the court. 
 
 The national guard of Paris immediately petitioned for the removal of 
 the Marseillais ; but it was hooted by the tribunes, and its petition proved 
 unsuccessful. 
 
 Amidst these proceedings, a paper attributed to the Prince of Brunswick, 
 and soon ascertained to be authentic, was circulated. We have already ad- 
 verted to the mission of Mallet du Pan. He had furnished, in the name of 
 the King, the idea and model of a manifesto ; but this idea was soon dis- 
 torted. Another manifesto, inspired by the passions of Coblenlz, Avas signed 
 with the name of Brunswick, and distributed in advance of tlie Prussian 
 army. This paper was couched in the following terms : 
 
 "Their majesties the Emperor and the King of Prussia havir.g intn;sted 
 me with tlie command of the combined armies assembled by tlieir orders on 
 the frontiers of France, I am desirous to acquaint tlie inhabitants of that 
 kingdom with the motives Avhich have determined the measures of the two 
 sovereigns, and the intentions by which they are guided. 
 
 " After having arbitrarily suppressed the rights and possessions of the 
 German princes in Alsace and Lorraine ; deranged and overthrown good 
 order and the legitimate government in the interior; committed against the 
 sacred person of the King and his august family outrages and attacks of 
 violence which are still continued and renewed from day to day ; tliose who 
 have usurped the reins of the administration have at length filled up the 
 measure by causing an unjust war to be declared against his majesty the 
 emperor, and attacking his provinces situated in tlie Netherlands: some of 
 the possessions of the Germanic empire have been involved in this oppres- 
 sion, and several others have escaped the same danger solely by yielding to 
 the imperative menaces of the predominant party and its emissaries. 
 
 "His majesty the King of Prussia, united with his imperial majesty by 
 the bonds of a close and defensive alliance, and himself a preponderating 
 member of the Germanic body, has therefore not been able to forbear 
 marching to the aid of his ally and his co-states ; and it is in this twofold 
 relation that he takes upon himself the defence of that monarch and of 
 Germany. 
 
 " With these great interests an object equally important is joined, and 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 313 
 
 whicli the two sovereig;ns have deeply at heart ; namely, to put an end tc 
 the anarchy in tlie interior of France, to stop the attacks directed against the 
 throne and tlie altar, to re-establish the legal power, to restore to the King 
 the security and liberty of which he is deprived, and to place him in a con- 
 dition to exercise the legitimate authority which is his due. 
 
 " Convinced that the sound part ol the French nation abhors the excesses 
 of a faction whicli domineers over it, and that the majority of the inhabitants 
 await with impatience the moment of succour, to declare themselves openly 
 against the odious enterprises of their oppressors, his majesty the Emperor, 
 and his majesty the King of Prussia, call upon and invite them to return 
 without delay to the ways of reason and justice, of order and peace. 
 Agreeably to these views, I, the undersigned, commander-in-chief of the two 
 armies, declare, 
 
 " 1. That the two allied courts, forced into the present war by irresistible 
 circumstances, propose to themselves no other aim than the happiness ol 
 France, without pretending to enrich themselves by conquests ; 
 
 " 2. That they intend not to interfere in the internal government of France, 
 but are solely desirous to deliver the King, the Queen, and the royal family 
 from their captivity, and to procure for his most Christian majesty the 
 safely necessary to enable him to make without danger, witliout impedinient, 
 such convocations as he shall lliiiik proper, and labour to insure the happi- 
 ness of his subjects, agreeably to his promises and in as far as it shall 
 depend upon him ; 
 
 " 3. That the combined armies will protect the cities, to'vvns, and villages, 
 and the persons and property of all those who shall submit to the King, and 
 that they will concur in the instantaneous re-establishment of order and 
 police throughout France. 
 
 " 4. That the national cuards are summoned to watch ad interim over the 
 tranquillity of tlie towns and of the country, and over the safety of the per- 
 sons and property of all the French, till the arrival of the troops of their im- 
 perial and royal majesties, or till it shall be otherwise ordained, upon penalty 
 of being held personally responsible ; that, on the contrary, such of the 
 national gmirds as shall have fought against the troops of the two allied 
 courts, and who shall be taken in arms, shall be treated as enemies and 
 punished as rebels to their King, and as disturbers of the public peace; 
 
 " 5. That the generals, ofhcers, subalterns, and soldiers of the French 
 troops of the line, are in like manner summcuied to return to their ancient 
 fidelity, and to submit forthwith to the King, their legitimate sovereign ; 
 
 " 6. That the members of the departments, districts, and municipalities, 
 shall, in like manner, be responsible with their lives and property for all 
 misdemeanors, fires, murders, pillage, and acts of violence which they slial/ 
 suffer to be committed, or which they shall notoriously not strive to prevent, 
 in their territory; that they shall, in like manner, be required to continue 
 their functions ad interim, till his most Chrisiiaii majesty, restored to full 
 liberty, shall have made ulterior provisions, or till it shall have been other- 
 wise ordained in his name, in the mean time , 
 
 *' 7. That the inhabitants of the cities, towns, and villages, who shall dare 
 to defend themselves against the troops of their imperial and royal majesties 
 and to fire upon them, either in the open field, or from the windows, doors, 
 aad apertures of their houses, shall be instantly punished with all the rigour 
 of the law of war, and their houses demolished or burned. All the inhabit- 
 ants, on the contrary, of the said cities, towns, and villages, who shall readily 
 submit to their King, by opening the gates to the troops of their majesties 
 
 voj T — 40 
 
314 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 shall be from that moment under their immediate safeguard. Thfiir persona 
 their property, their effects, shall be under the protection of the laws ; and 
 provision shall be made for the general safety of all and each of them ; 
 
 "8. The city of Paris and all its inhabitants without distinction arc re- 
 quired to submit immediately and without delay to the King, to set that 
 prince at full and entire liberty, and to insure to him, as well as to all the 
 royal personages, the inviolability and respect which the law of nature and 
 nations renders obligatory on subjects tov/ards their sovereigns ; their impe- 
 rial and royal majesties holding personally responsible with their lives for 
 all that may happen, to be tried militarily, and without hope of pardon, all 
 the members of the National Assembly, of the department, of the districtyof 
 the municipality, and of the national guard of Paris, the justices of the peace, 
 and all others whom it shall concern; their said majesties declaring, more- 
 over, on their faith and word, as emperor and king, that if the palace of the 
 Tuileries is forced or insulted, that if the least violence, the least outrage, is 
 offered to their majesties the King and Queen, and to the royal family, if 
 immediate provision is not made for their safety, their preservation, and their 
 liberty, they will take an exemplary and ever-memorable vengeance by giv- 
 ing up the city of Paris to military execution and total destruction, and tha 
 rebels guilty of outrages, to the punishments Avhich they shall have deserved, 
 Their imperial and royal majesties on the other hand promise the inhabitants 
 of the city of Paris to employ their good offices with his most Christian 
 majesty to obtain pardon of their faults and misdeeds, and to take the most 
 vigorous measures for the security of their persons and property, if they 
 promptly and strictly obey the above injunctions. 
 
 "Lastly, their majesties, unable to recognise as laws in France any but 
 those which shall emanate from the King, enjoying perfect liberty, protest 
 beforehand against the authenticity of all tlie declarations wliich may be 
 made in the name of his most Christian majesty, so long as his sacred per- 
 son, tliat of the Queen, and of the whole royal family, shall not be really in 
 safety; to the effect of which their imperial and royal majesties invite and 
 solicit his most Christian majesty to name the city of his kingdom nearest 
 to its frontiers, to wliich he shall think fit to retire with the Queen and his 
 family, under a good and safe escort, which shall be sent to him for this 
 purpose, in order that his most Christian majesty may be enabled in com- 
 plete safety to call around him such ministers and councillors as he shall 
 please to appoint, make such convocations as shall to him appear fitting, 
 provide for the re-establishment of good order, and regulate the administra- 
 tion of his kingdom. 
 
 *' Finally, I again declare and promise in my own private name, and in 
 my aforesaid quality, to make the troops placed under my command observe 
 good and strict discipline, engaging to treat witli kindness and moderation 
 those well-disposed subjects who shall sliow themselves peaceful and sub- 
 missive, and not to employ force unless against such as shall be guilty of 
 resistance or hostility. 
 
 " For these reasons, I require and exhort all the inhabitants of the kingdom, 
 in the strongest and the most earnest manner, not to oppose the march and 
 the operations of the troops wliich I command, but rather to grant them 
 everywhere free entrance and all goodwill, aid, and assistance, that circum- 
 Btances may require. 
 
 " Given at the head-quarters at Coblentz, the 25th of Jidy, 1792. 
 " (Signed) Charles William FerdinAxXd, 
 
 Duke of Brunswick-Luneburg.'* 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION 315 
 
 What appeared surprising in this dedaration was that, dated on the 25th 
 of July, at Coblentz, it sliould be in Paris on the 28th, and be printed in all 
 the royalist newspapers. It produced an extraordinary clTect. ■■ Promises 
 poured in from all quarters to resist an enemy whose language was so haughty 
 and whose threats were so terrible. In tlie existing state of minds, it was 
 natural that the King aud the court should be accused of this new fault. 
 Louis XVI. lost no time in disavowing tlie manifesto by a message, and he 
 could no doubt do so widi the utmost sincerity, since this paper was so dif- 
 ferent from the model which he had proposed ; but he must already have 
 Been, from this example, how far his intentions would be exceeded by hia 
 parly, should that parly ever be victorious. Neither his disavowal, nor the 
 expressions with which it Avas accompanied, could satisfy the Assembly. 
 Adverting to the people whose happiness had always been so dear to hiiu, 
 he added, " How many sorrows might be dispelled by the slightest mark of 
 its return to loyalty!" 
 
 These impressive words no longer excited the enthusiasm wliich they had 
 in times past the gift of producing. They w^ere regarded as tlu3 language 
 of deceit, and luany of the deputies voted for their being printed, in order, 
 as tliey said, to reiuler public the contrast which existed between die words 
 and the conduct of the King. From that moment, tlie agitation continued to 
 increase, and circumstances became more and more a2-(Tra\'ated. Intelligence 
 was received of -a resolulion [(irrete) by which the department of the Bouches 
 du Rluuie withheld the taxes for the purpose t)f paying the troops wnich it 
 had sent against the forces of Savoy, aiul charged the measures taken by the 
 Assembly with insuJhcieiicy. This was tlie effect of the instigations of Bar- 
 baroux. Tlie resolution w^as annulled by the Assembly, but its execution 
 could not be prevented. It was rumoured, at the same time, that the Sar- 
 dinians, who were advancing, amounted to iifty thousand. The minister for 
 foreign affairs Avas obliged lo repair in person to the Assembly, to assure ii 
 that the troops collected did not exceed at the utmost eleven or twelve thou- 
 sand \WQ\\. This report was fuUowed by another. It was asserted that the 
 small number of federalists wdio had at that time proceeded to Soissons, had 
 been poisoned with glass mixed up with the bread. It was even affirmed 
 that one hundred and sixty w^ere already dead, and eight hundred ill. In- 
 quiries w'ere made, and it was ascertained that the flour was kept in a churcii, 
 the windows of wdiich had been broken, and a iew bits of glass had been 
 found in the bread. There was, howe\ er, not one person either dead or ill. 
 
 On the 2r)lh of .Tuly, a decree had rendered all the sections of Paris per- 
 manent. They had met and had directed Petion to propose in uien- name 
 the dethronement of Louis XVI. On tlie morning of the 3d of August, the 
 mayor of Paris, emboldened by this commission, appeared before the As- 
 sembly to present a petition in the name of the forty-eight sections of Paris. 
 He reviewed the conduct of Louis XVI. ever since the commencement of the 
 Revolution; he recapitulated, in the language of the time, the benelits con- 
 ferred by the nation on the King, and the return which the King had made 
 for them. He expatiated on the dangers by which all mmds Avere struck, 
 the arrival of the foreign armies, the total inadequacy of the means of defence, 
 the revolt of a general against the Assembly, the opposition of a great num 
 
 • " Hnd this manifesto been couched in more moderate language, and followed up by a 
 rapid and energetic military movement, it might have had the desired effect; but coming, aa 
 it did, in a moment of extreme public excitation, and enforced, as it was, by the most feeblo 
 and inetficient military measures, it contributed in a signal manner to accelerate the march 
 of the Revolution, and was the immediate cause of the downfall of the throne." — Ailaon. E 
 
316 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 ber of the departmental directories, and the terrible and absurd threats issued 
 in the name of Brunswick. In consequence, he concluded by proposing the 
 dethronement of the King, and prayed the Assembly to insert that important 
 question in the order of the day. 
 
 This important proposition, which had as yet been made only by clubs, 
 federalists, and communes, assumed a very different character on being pre- 
 sented in the name of Paris, and by its mayor. It was received rather with 
 astonishment than favour in the morning sitting. But in the evening the 
 discussion commenced, and the ardour of one part of the Assembly was dis- 
 played without reserve. ^' Some were for taking up the question forthwith, 
 others for deferring it. It was, however, adjourned till Thursday, the 9th 
 of August, and the assembly continued to receive and to read petitions, ex- 
 pressing, with still greater energy than that of the mayor, the same wish and 
 the same sentiments. 
 
 The section of Mauconseil, more violent than the others, instead of merely 
 demanding the King's dethronement, pronounced it of its own authority. It 
 declared that it no longer acknowledged Louis XVI. as King of the French, 
 and that it should soon come to ask the legislative body if it at length meant 
 to save France. Moreover, it exhorted all the sections of the empire — for 
 it avoided the use of the term kingdom — to follow its example. 
 
 Tiie Assembly, as we have already seen, did not follow the insurrectional 
 movement so promptly as the inferior authorities, because^ being specially 
 charged with the maintenance of the laws, it was obliged to pay them more 
 respect. Thus it found itself frequently outstripped by the popular bodies, 
 and saw the power slipping out of its hands. It therefore annulled the reso- 
 hition of the section of Mauconseil. Vergniaud and Cambon employed the 
 most severe expressions against that act, which they called a usurpation of 
 the sovereignty of the people. It appears, however, that it was not so much 
 the principle as the precipitation which they condemned in this resolution, 
 and particularly the indecorous language applied in it to the Assembly. 
 
 A crisis was now approaching. On the same day a meeting was held of 
 the insurrectional committee of the federalists, and of the King's friends, who 
 were preparing for his flight. Tlie committee deferred the insurrection till 
 the day when the dethronement should be discussed, that is, till the evening 
 of the 9th of August, or the morning of the 10th. The King's friends, on 
 their part, were deliberating respecting his flight in the garden of M. de 
 Montmorin. Messrs. de Liancourt and de Lafayette renewed their off"ers. 
 Everything was arranged for departure. Money, however, was wanting. 
 Bertrand de MoUeville had uselessly exhausted the civil list by paying 
 royalist clubs, spouters in tribunes, speakers to groups, pretended bribers^ 
 who bribed nobody, but put the funds of the court into their own pockets. 
 The Avant of money was supplied by loans which generous persons eagerly 
 off'ered to the King. The offers of M. de Liancourt have already been men- 
 tioned. He gave all the gold that he was able to procure. Others furnished 
 as much as they possessed. Devoted friends prepared to accompany the 
 carriage that was to convey the royal family, and, if it were necessary, to 
 j)erish by its side. 
 
 Everything being arranged, the councillors who had met at the house of 
 Montmorin decided upon the departure, after a conference which lasted a 
 
 * "The question of abJication was discussed with a degree of phrensj'. Such of the 
 deputies as opposed the motion were abused, ill-treated, and surrounded by assassins. They 
 had a battle to fight at every step they took ; and at length they did not dare to sleep in theit 
 bouses." — Monfjoie, E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 317 
 
 whole cvoiiing. Tlie King, wlio saw them immediately afterwards, assented 
 to tills resolution, and ordered them to arrange with Messrs. de iMontcicl and 
 de Sainte-Croix. Whatever might be the opinions of those who agreed to 
 lliis enterprise, it was a great joy to them to believe for a moment in the ap- 
 proaching deiix'ciancc of tlic monarch." 
 
 But the next day evervihing; was changed. The Kinor directed this 
 answer to l)f: given, that he should not k-ave Paris, because he would not 
 begin a civil war. All those who, with very dilTerent sentiments, felt an 
 equal degree of anxiety for him, were tliunderstruck. They learned that the 
 real motive was not that assigned by tlie King. The real one was, in the 
 first place, the arrival of Brunswick, announced as very near at hand; in the 
 next, tlie adjourmnent of the insurrection; and, above all, the refusal of the 
 Queen to trust the constitutionalists. tShe had energetically expressed her 
 Inversion, saying that it would be better to perish than to put themselves into 
 me hands of those who had done tliem so inucli mischief.! 
 
 Thus all the eflorts made by the constitutionalists, all the dangers to which 
 they had exposed themselves, were useless. Lafayette had seriously com- 
 mitted himself. It was known that he had prevailed on Luckner to march, 
 in case of need, to the capital. The latter, summoned before the Assembly, 
 had confessed everything to the extraordinary committee of twelve. Old 
 Luckner was weak and fickle. When he passed out of the hands of one 
 party into those of another, he suflered the avowal of all that he had heard 
 or said on the preceding day to be wrung from him, and afterwards alleged, 
 in excuse of these confessions, tliat he was unacquainted with the French 
 language, wept, and complained that he was surrounded by factious persons 
 
 • 'J'lii' following paper is one of those quoted by M. de Lally-Tollendal m his letter to the 
 King of Prussia : 
 
 Copy of the Minute of a sit ling held on the 4//i of August, 1792, in the hmidwriting oj 
 
 Lallij-TuUendal. 
 
 August 4. 
 
 M, de Montmorin, late minister of foreign affairs — M. Bertrand, late minister of the ma 
 rine — M. de Clermont-Tonnerre — M. de Lally-Tollendal — M. Malouet — M. de Gouvernet — • 
 M. de Gilliers. 
 
 Three hours' deliberation in a sequestered spot in M. de Monlmorin's garden. Each 
 reported what he had discovered. I had received an anonymous letter, in which the writer 
 inforiTiod me of a conversation at Santerre's, announcing the plan of marching to the Tuile- 
 vies, killing the King in the fray, and seizing the prince-royal, to do with him whatever cir- 
 cumstances should require; or, if the King was not killed, to make all the royal family pri- 
 soners, We all resolved that the King should leave Paris, at whatever risk, escorted by the 
 Swiss, and by ourselves and our friends, who were pretty numerous. We reckoned upon M. 
 do Liancourt, who had olVered to come to Ixouen to meet the King, and also upon M. de 
 Lafayette. As we were finishing our deliberations, M. de Maleshcrbes arrived ; he came to 
 urge Madame de Montmorin and her daughter, Madame de Beaumont, to depart, saying that 
 the ciisis was at hand, and that Paris was no longer a fit place for women. In consequence 
 of the news brought us by M. dc Maleshcrbes, we agreed that M. de Montmorin should go 
 immediately to the palace to inform the King of what we had learned and resolved. The King 
 seemed to assent in the evening, and told M. de Montmorin to confer with M. de Sainte-Croix, 
 who, with M. dc Montciel, was also engaged in devising a plan for the King's departuie. We 
 went next day to the palace ; I had a long conversation with the Duke de Choiseuil, who was 
 entirely of our opinion, and anxious that the King should depart at any risk whatever, as he 
 ♦vould rather expose hiniself to cvtrij danger iJtan commence a civil war. We were informed 
 ihat the deposition would be pronounced on the 'I'hursday following. I knew of no other 
 resource than the army of M. de Latavette. I sent off on the 8th the rough draught of a letter, 
 which I advised him to write to the Duke of Brunswick, as soon as he should receive iiit 
 first news of the deposition, &c. 
 
 I" Sec Memoirs d« Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 125. 
 
318 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 only. Guadet had the address to draw from him a confession of Lafayette's 
 proposals, and Bureau de Puzy, accused of having been the intermediate 
 agent, was summoned to the bar. He was one of the friends and officers 
 of Lafayette. He denied everything with assurance, and in a tone which 
 persuaded the committee that the negotiations of his general were unknown 
 to iiim. The question whether Lafayette should be placed under accusation 
 was adjourned. 
 
 The day fixed for the discussion of the dethronement approached. The 
 plan of the insurrection was settled and known. The Marseillais, whose 
 barracks were at the- farthest extremity of Paris, had repaired to the section 
 of the Cordeliers, where the club of that name was held. They were in the 
 heart of Paris and close to the scene of action. Two municipal otficers had 
 had the boldaes^s to order cartridges to be distributed among the conspirators. 
 Li short, everything was ready for the 10th. 
 
 On the 8th, the question concerning Lafayette was discussed. It was 
 decided by a strong majority that there was not sufficient ground for an ac- 
 cusation. Some of the deputies, irritated at this acquittal, insisted on a 
 division ; and, on this new trial, four hundred and forty-six members had 
 the courage to vote in favour of the general against two hundred and eighty. 
 The people, roused by this intelligence, collected about the door of the hall, 
 insulted the deputies as they went out, and particularly maltreated those who 
 were known to belong to the right side of the Assembly, such as Vaublanc, 
 Girardin, Dumas, Slc. From all quarters abuse was poured forth against 
 the national representation, and the people loudly declared that there was no 
 longer any safety with an Assembly which could absolve the traitor Lafayette,* 
 
 On the following day, August 9th, an extraordinary agitation prevailed 
 imong the deputies. Those who had been insulted the day before com- 
 plained personally or by letter. When it was stated that M. Beaucaron had 
 narrowly escaped being hanged, a barbarous peal of laughter burst from the 
 tribunes; and when it was added that M. de Girardin had been struck, even 
 those who knew how and where, ironically put the question to hira. 
 "What!" nobly replied M. de Girardin, "know you not that cowards never 
 strike but behind one's back ?" At length a member called for the order of 
 the day. The Assembly, however, decided that Roederer, the procureiir 
 s^/ndic of the commune,! should be summoned to the bar, and enjoined, upon 
 his personal responsibility, to provide for the safety and the inviolability of 
 the members of the Assembly. 
 
 It was proposed to send for the mayor of Paris, and to oblige him to de- 
 clare, yes or no, whether he could answer for the public tranquillity. Guadet 
 answered this proposition by another for summoning the King also, and 
 oliliging him in his turn to declare, yes or no, whether he could answer fw 
 the safety and inviolability of the territory. 
 
 Amidst these contrary suggestions, however, it was easy to perceive that 
 the Assembly dreaded the decisive moment, and that the Girondins them- 
 
 * " Lafayette was burnt in efligy by the Jacobins, in the gardens of the Tuileries."— 
 I'rudhomme. E. 
 
 j- " P. L. Rcedercr, deputy from the ticrs-ctat of the bailiwick of Metz, embraced the cause 
 of the Revolution. On the lOlh of August, he interested himself in the fate of the King, 
 gave some orders for his safety ; and at last advised him to repair to the Assembly, which 
 completed the ruin of Louis, and compromised Roederer. Having survived the Reign ot 
 Terror, he devoted himself to editing the Journal of Paris; and in conjunction with Volney 
 Talleyrand, and others, helped to bring on the Revolution of the 18th Brumaire, 1799. lie 
 was an able journalist, temperate in his principles, and concise and vigorous in his style. 
 Biographic Muderne. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 319 
 
 selves would lather have brought about the dethronement by a deliberation, 
 than recur to a doubtful and murderous attack. During- these proceedings 
 Ra3dercr arrived, and stated that one section had determined to ring the 
 tocsin, and to march upon the Assembly and the Tuileries, if the dethrone 
 mentwere not pronounced. Petion entered, in his turn. He did not speak 
 out in a positive manner, but admitted the existence of sinister projects. He 
 enumerated the precautions taken to prevent the threatened commotions, and 
 promised to confer with the department, and to adopt its measures, if tliey 
 appeared to him better than those of the municipality. 
 
 Petion, as well as all his Girondin friends, preferred a declaration of de- 
 thronement by the Assembly to an uncertain combat with the palace. Being 
 almost sure of a majority for the dethronement, he would fain have put a 
 stop to the plans of the insurrectional committee. He repaired, therefore, 
 to the committee o( surveillance of the Jacobins, and begged Chabot to sus- 
 pend the insurrection, telling him that the Girondins had resolved upon the 
 dethronement and the immediate convocation of a national convention ; that 
 they were sure of a majority, and that it was wrong to run the risk of an 
 attack, tlie result of which was doubtful. Chabot replied that nothing was 
 to be hoped for from an assembly wliich ]iad absolved the scoundrel La- 
 fayette ; that he, Petion, allowed hijnself to be deceived by his friends ; that 
 the people liad at lengtli resolved to save themselves ; and that tlie tocsin 
 would be rung tliat very evening in the fauxbourgs. " Will you always be 
 wrong-lieaded, then?" replied Petion. " Wo betide us if tliere is a rising! 
 ... I know your influence, but I liave influence too, and will employ it 
 igainst you." — "You shall be arrested and prevented from acting," re- 
 joined Chabot. 
 
 People's minds were in fact too highly excited for tlie fears of Petion to 
 be understood, and for him to be able to exercise his influence. A general 
 agitation pervaded Paris. The drum beat tlie call in all quarters. The 
 battalions of the national guard assembled, and repaired to their posts, with 
 very discordant dispositions. The sections were tilled, not with the greater 
 number, but with the most ardent of the citizens. The insurrectional com- 
 mittee had formed at three points. Fournier and some others were in the 
 fauxbourg St. Marceau ; Santerre and Westermann occupied the fauxbourg 
 St. Antoine ; lastly, Danton, Camille Des-Moulins, and Carra, were at the 
 Cordeliers with the Marseilles battalion. Barbaroux, after stationing scouts 
 at die Assembly and the palace, had provided couriers ready to start for tlie 
 South. He liad also provided himself with a dose of poison, such Avas the 
 uncertainty of success, and awaited at the Cordeliers tlie result of the insur- 
 rection. It is not known where Robespierre was. Danton had concealed 
 Marat in a cellar belonging to the section, and had then taken possession of 
 the tribune of the Cordeliers. Every one hesitated, as on the eve of a great 
 resolution ; but Dantpn, with a daring proportionate to the importance of the 
 event, raised his thundering voice. He enumerated what he called the 
 crimes of the court. He expatiated on the hatred of the latter to the consti- 
 tution, its deceitful language, its hypocritical promises, always belied by its 
 conduct, and lasdy, its evident machinations for bringing in foreigners. 
 *'The people," said he, "can now have recourse but to themselves, for the 
 constitution is insufiicient, and the Assembly has absolved Lafayette. You 
 have, therefore, none left to save you but yourselves. Lose no time, then ; 
 for, this very night, satellites concealed in the palace are to sally forth upon 
 the people and to slaughter them, before they leave Paris to repair to Co 
 blentz. Save yourselves, then! To arms! to arms!" 
 
320 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 At this momunt a musket was fired in the Cour du Commerce. The cry 
 To arms ! soon became general, and the insurrection was proclaimed. It 
 was then half-past eleven. The Marseillais formed before the door of the 
 Cordeliers, seiztsd some pieces of cannon, and were soon reinforced by a 
 numerous concourse, which ranged itself by their side. Camille Desmoulins 
 and others ran out to order the tocsin to be rung ; but they did not find the 
 same ardour in the different sections. They strove to rouse their zeal. The 
 sections soon assembled and appointed commissioners to repair to the Hotel 
 de Ville, for the purpose of superseding the municipality and taking all the 
 authority into their own hands. Lastly, they ran to the bells, made them- 
 selves master of them by main force, and the tocsin began to ring. This 
 dismal sound pervaded the whole extent of the capital. It was wafted from 
 street to street, from building to building. It called the deputies, the magis- 
 trates, the citizens, to their posts. At length it reached the palace, proclaim- 
 ing that the terrible night was come ; that fatal night, that night of agitation 
 and blood, destined to be the last which the monarch should pass in the 
 palace of his ancestors ! '• 
 
 Emissaries of the court came to apprize it that the moment of the catas- 
 trophe was at hand. They reported the expression used by the President 
 of the Cordeliers, who had told his people that this was not to be, as on 
 the 20th of June, a mere civic promenade ; meaning that, if the 20th of June 
 had been the threat, the lOlh of August was the decisive stroke. On that 
 point, in fact, there was no longer room for doubt. The King, the Queen, 
 theii two children, and their sister, Madame Elizabeth, had not retired to 
 bed, but had gone after supper into the council-chamber, where all the mi- 
 nistf rs and a great number of superior officers were deliberating, in dismay, 
 on tlie means of saving the royal family. The means of resistance were 
 feeble and had been almost annihilated, either by decrees of the Assembly, 
 Of by the false measures of the court itself. 
 
 The constitutional guard, dissolved by a decree of the Assembly, had not 
 been replaced by the King, Avho had chosen rather to continue its pay to it 
 than to form a new one. The force of the palace was thus diminished by 
 eighteen hundred men. 
 
 The regiments whose disposition had appeared favourable to the King at 
 the time of the last Federation had been removed from Paris by the accus- 
 tomed expedient of decrees. 
 
 The Swiss could not be removed, owing to their capitulations, but their 
 artillery had been taken from them ; and the court, when it had, for a mo- 
 ment, decided upon flight to Normandy, had sent thither one of those faithful 
 battalions, upon pretext of guarding supplies of corn that were expected. 
 This battalion had not yet been recalled. Some Swiss only, in barracks at 
 Courbevoie, had been authorized by Petion to come back, and they amounted 
 altogether to no more than eight or nine hundred men. 
 
 The gendarmerie had recently been composed of the old soldiers of the 
 French guards, the authors of the 14th of July. 
 
 Lastly, tlie national guard had neither the same officers, nor the same 
 
 • ''At mitlnight a cannon was fired, the tocsin sounded, and the gmerale beat to arms in 
 every quarter of Paris. The survivors of the bloody catastrophe, wliich was about to com- 
 mence, have portrayed in the strongest colours the horrors of that awful night, when the 
 oldest monarchy in Europe tottered to its fall. The incessant clang of the tocsin, the roll of 
 the drums, the rattling of artillery and ammunition-wagons along the streets, the cries of the 
 insurgents, the march of the columns, rung in their ears for long after, even in the momenta 
 of festivity and rejoicing." — AUsun, E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 321 
 
 oiganization, nor tlie same attacliment, as on the 6lh of October, 1789, 
 The siatf, as we liave seen, had been reconstituted. A great number of 
 citizens had become disgusted with the service, and those who had not 
 deserted their post were intimidated by tlie fury of the populace. Thus the 
 national guard was, like all the bodies of the state, composed of a new revo- 
 lutionary generation. It was divided, with the whole of France, into con- 
 stitutionalists and republicans. 'I'he whole battalion of the Filles St. 
 Thomas, and part of that of the Petits Peres, were attached to the King. 
 The others were either indifferent or hostile. The gunners, in particular, 
 who composed the principal strength, were decided republicans. The 
 fatigues incident to the duty of the latter had deterred the wealtliy citizens 
 from undertaking it. Locksmiths and blacksmiths were thus left in posses- 
 sion of the guns, and almost all of them, belonging to the populace, partook 
 of its dispositions. 
 
 Thus the King had left him about eight or nine hundred Swiss, and rather 
 more than one battalion of the national ffuard. 
 
 It will be recollected that the command of the national guard, after La- 
 fayette's removal, had been transferred to six commanders of legions in 
 rotation. It had Qdlen, on that day, to the commandant IMandat, an old 
 officer, displeasing to the court for his constitutional opinions, but possessing 
 its entire confidence, from his firmness, his intelligence, and his attachment 
 to his duties. Mandat, general-in-cliief on that fatal night, had hastily made 
 the only possible dispositions. 
 
 The floor of the ffrcat orallerv leadinof from tlie Louvre to the Tuileries 
 had already been cut away for a certain space, to prevent the passage of tlie 
 assailants, Mandat, in consequence, took no precautions for protecting that 
 wing, but directed his attention to the side next to the courts and the garden. 
 Notwithstanding the signal by drum, few of the national guards fiad assem- 
 bled. The battalions remained incomplete. The most zealous of tjiem 
 proceeded singly to the palace, where Mandat had formed them into regi- 
 ments and posted them conjointly with the Swiss, in the courts, the garden, 
 and the apartments. He had placed one piece of cannon in the court of the 
 Swiss, three in the central court, and three in that of the princes. 
 
 These guns were unfortunately consigned to gunners of the national guard, 
 so that the enemy was actually in the fortress. But the Swiss, full of zeal 
 and loyalty, watched them narrowly, ready at the first movement to make 
 themselves masters of their guns, and to drive them out of the precincts of 
 the palace. 
 
 Mandat had moreover placed some advanced posts of gendarmerie at the 
 colonnade of the Louvre and the Hotel de Ville ; but this gendarmerie, as 
 we have already shown, was composed of old French guards. 
 
 To these defenders of the palace must be added a great number of old 
 servants, whose age or Avhose moderation had prevented them from emi- 
 grating, and who, in the moment of danger, had come forward, some to 
 absolve themselves for not having gone toCoblentz, others to die generously 
 by the side of their prince. They had hastily provided themselves with all 
 tlie weapons that they could procure in the palace. They were armed with 
 swords, and pistols fastened to their waists by pocket-handkerchiefs. Some 
 had even taken tongs and shovels from the fire-places.*" Thus there was no 
 
 • "M. Je St. Souplet, one of the King's equerries, nnd a page, instead of muskets, carried 
 upon their shoulders the tongs belonging to the King's antechamber, which they had broken 
 and divided between them." — Madame Cumpan. JS. 
 VOL. I.— 41 
 
322 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 want of jokes at this awful moment, when the court ought to have been 
 serious at least for once. This concourse of useless persons, instead of ren- 
 dering it any service, Inerely obstructed the national giiard, which could not 
 reclion upon it, and tended only to increase the confusion, which was already 
 loo great. 
 
 All the members of the departmental directory had repaired to the palace. 
 The virtuous Duke de Larochefoucauld was there. Roederer, the prociireur 
 syndic J was there, too. Petion was sent for, and he repaired thither with 
 two municipal officers. Petion was urged to sign an order for repehing force 
 by force, and he did sign it, that he might not appear to be an accomplice 
 of the insurgents. Considerable joy was felt in having him at the palace, 
 and in holding, in his person, an hostage so dear to the people. The As- 
 sembly, apprized of this intention, summoned him to the bar by a decree. 
 The King, who was advised to detain him, refused to do so, and he therefore 
 left the Tuileries without impediment. 
 
 The order to repel force by force once obtained, various opinions were 
 expressed relative to the manner of using it. In this state of excitement, 
 more than one silly project must necessarily have presented itself. There 
 was one sufficiently bold, and which might probably have succeeded; this 
 was to prevent the attack by dispersing the insurgents, who were not yet 
 very numerous, and who, with the Marseillais, formed at most a few thou- 
 sand men. At this moment, in fact, the fauxbourg St. Marceau was not yet 
 formed ; Santerre hesitated in the fauxbourg St. Antoine ; Danton alone, and 
 the Marseillais had ventured to form at the Cordeliers, and they were waiting 
 with impatience at the Pont St. Michel for the arrival of the other assailants. 
 
 A vigorous sally might have dispersed them, and, at this moment of hesi- 
 tation, a movement of terror would infallibly have prevented the insurrection. 
 Another course, more safe and legal, was that proposed by Mandat, namely, 
 to await the march of the fauxbourgs ; but, as soon as they should be in 
 motion, to attack them at two decisive points. He suggested, in the first 
 place, that when one party of them should debouch upon the Place of the 
 H6tel de Ville, by the arcade of St. Jean, tbey should be suddenly charged ; 
 and that, at the Louvre, those who should come by the Pont Neuf, along the 
 quay of the Tuileries, should be served in the same manner. He had actu- 
 ally ordered the gendarmerie posted at the colonnade to suffer tlie insurgents 
 to file past, then to charge them in the rear, while the gendarmerie, stationed 
 at the Carrousel, were to pour through the wickets of the Louvre, and 
 attack them in front. The success of such plans Avas almost certain. The 
 necessary orders had already been given by Mandat to the commandants of 
 the different posts, and especially to that of the Hotel de Ville. 
 
 We have already seen that a new municipality had just been formed there. 
 Among the members of the former, Danton and Manuel only were retained. 
 The order was shown to this insurrectional municipality. It immediately 
 summoned the commandant to appear at the Hotel de Ville. The summons 
 was carried to the palace. Mandat hesitated ; but those about him and the 
 members of the department themselves, not knowing what had happened, 
 and not deeming it riglit yet to infringe the law by refusing to appear, ex- 
 horted iiim to comply. Mandat then decided. He put into the hands of 
 his son, who was with him at the palace, the order signed by Petion to repel 
 'orce by force> and obeyed the summons of the municipality. It was about 
 four o'clock in the morning. On reaching the Hotel de Ville, he Avas sur- 
 prised to find there a new authority. He was instantly surrounded and 
 questioned concerning the order which he had issued. He was then dis* 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 323 
 
 missed, and in dismissing; him the president made a sign which was equiva- 
 lent to sentence of death. No sooner had the unfortunate commandant 
 retired than lie was seized and shot with a pistol. The murderers stripped 
 him of his clothes, without finding about him the order, which he had de- 
 livered to his son, and his body was thrown into the river, whither it was 
 soon to be followed by so many others. 
 
 This sanguinary deed paralyzed all the means of defence of the palace, 
 destroyed all unity, and prevented the execution of the plan of defence. All 
 however, was not yet lost, and the insurrection was not completely formed 
 The Marseillais had impatiently waited for the fauxbourg St. Antoine, which 
 did not arrive, and for a moment they concluded tbat the plan had miscarried. 
 But Westermann had pointed his sword to the body of Sanlerre, and forced 
 him to march. The fauxbourgs had then successively arrived, some by the 
 Rue St. Ilonore, others by the Pont Ncuf, the Pont Royal, and the wickets 
 of the Louvre. The Marseillais marched at the head of the columns, with 
 the Breton federalists, and they had pointed their pieces towards the palace. 
 The great number of the insurgents, which increased every moment, was 
 joined by a multitude attracted by curiosity ; and thus the enemy appeared 
 stronger than they really were. While they were proceeding to the palace, 
 Santcrre had hurried to the Hotel de Ville, to get himself appointed com- 
 mander-in-chief of the national guard, and Westermann had remained on 
 the field of battle to direct the assailants. Everything was therefore in the 
 utmost confusion, so much so, tliat Petion, who, according to the precon- 
 certed phm, was to have been kept at home by an insurrectional force, was 
 still wailing for the guard that was to screen his responsiljility by an appa- 
 rent constraint. He sent, himself, to the Hotel de A^ille, and at last a 
 few hundred men were placed at his door that he might seem to be in a state 
 of arrest. 
 
 The palace was at this moment absolutely besieged. The assailants 
 were in the place ; and by the dawning light they were seen through the 
 old doors of the courts and from the windows. Their artillery was disco- 
 vered pointed at the palace, and their confused shouts and threatening songs 
 Avere Iieard. The plan of anticipating them had been anew proposed ; but 
 tidings of Mandat's death had just been received, and the opinion of the 
 ministers, as well as of the department, was, that it was best to await the 
 attack and sufier themselves to be forced within the limits of the law. 
 
 Rocderer had just gone through the ranks of this litde garrison, to read to 
 the Swiss and the national guards the legal proclamation, which forbade 
 them to attack, but enjoined them to repel force by force. The King was 
 solicited to review in person the servants who were preparing to defend him. 
 The unfortunate prince had passed the night in listening to the conflicting' 
 opinions that were expressed around him ; and, during the only moments of 
 relaxation, he had prayed to Heaven for his royal consort, his children, and 
 his sister, the objects of all his fears. " Sire," said the Queen to him with 
 energy, " it is time to show yourself." It is even asserted that, snatching 
 a pistol from tlie belt of old d'Affry, she presented it angrily at the King. 
 The eyes of the princess were inflamed with weeping ; but her brow 
 appeared lofty, her nostrils dilated, with indignation and pride. ^ 
 
 * 
 
 •" The behaviour of Mario Antoinette, was ma^animous in the highest degree. H«r 
 majestic air, her Austrian lip, ami aquiline nose, gave her an air of dignity which can only 
 be conceived by those who beheld her in that trying hour." — Peltier. E. 
 
 " Tlie King ought then to have put himself at the head of his troops, and opposed hia 
 
324 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 As for the King, he feared nothing for his own person ; nay, he mani. 
 fested great coohiess in this extreme peril ; but lie was alarmed for his 
 family, and sorrow at seeing it thus exposed had altered his looks. He 
 nevertheless went forward with firmness. He had on a purple suit of 
 clothes, wore a sword, and his hair, which had not been dressed since the 
 preceding day, was partly in disorder. On stepping out on the balcony, he 
 perceived without agitation many pieces of artillery pointed against the 
 palace. His presence still excited some remains of enthusiasm. The caps 
 of the grenadiers were all at once uplifted on the points of swords and bayo- 
 nets ; the old cry of "Fz'ye /e 7?oi/" rang for the last time beneath the 
 vaults of the paternal palace. A last spark of courage was rekindled. 
 Dejected hearts were cheered. For a moment there was a gleam of confi- 
 
 enemies. The Queen was of this opinion, and the courageous counsel she gave on thia 
 occasion does honour to her memory." — Madame de Slael. E. 
 
 " This invasion of the lOlh of August was another of those striking occasions, on which 
 the King, by suddenly changing his character and assuming firmness, might have recovered 
 his throne. Had he ordered the clubs of the Jacobins and Cordeliers to be shut up, dissolved 
 the Assembly, and seized on the factions, that day had restored his authority. But this 
 weak prince chose rather to expose himself to certain death, than give orders for his 
 defence." — Dumont. E. 
 
 "Marie Antoinette Josephe Jeanne Antoinette, of Lorraine, Archduchess of Austria, and 
 Queen of France, born at Vienna in the year 1755, was daughter of the Emperor Francis I, 
 and of Maria Theresa. She received a careful education, and nature had bestowed on her 
 an uncommon share of grace and beauty. Her marriage with the dauphin (afterwards 
 Louis XVI.) at Versailles, in 1770, had all the appearance of a triumph. It was subse- 
 quently remarked that immediately after the ceremony, a fearful thunder-storm, such as had 
 scarcely ever before been witnessed, took place at Versailles. Anxious minds indulged in 
 yet more more fearful forebodings, when, at the festivity which the city of Paris prepared in 
 celebration of the royal nuptials, through the want of judicious arrangements, a great number 
 of people in the Rue Royale were trodden down in the crowd. Fifty-three persons were 
 found dead, and about three hundred dangerously wounded. In 1788, Marie Antoinette 
 drew upon herself the hatred of the court party, who used every means to make her odious 
 to the nation. Her lively imagination often gave her the appearance of levity, and some- 
 times of intrigue and dissimulation. A national restlessness, too, led her on a constant search 
 after novelty, which involved her in heavy expenses. It was still more to her disadvantage 
 that she injured her dignity by neglecting the strict formality of court manners. About this 
 time her enemies spread a report about that she was still an Austrian at heart, and an extra- 
 ordinary occurrence added fuel to the flame of calumny, and subjected the Queen to a dis- 
 graceful law-suit. Two jewellers demanded the payment of an immense price for a neck- 
 lace, which had been purchased in the name of the Queen. In the examination, which she 
 demanded, it was proved that she had never authorized the purchase. A lady of her size and 
 complexion had impudently passed herself olT for the Queen, and, at midnight had a meeting 
 with a cardinal in the park of Versailles. Notwithstanding, her enemies succeeded in throw- 
 ing a dark shade over her conduct. When Louis XVI, informed her of his condemnation 
 to death, she congratulated him on the approaching termination of an existence so painful. 
 After his execution, she asked nothing of the Convention but a mourning dress, which she 
 wore for the remainder of her days. Her behaviour during the whole term of her imprison- 
 ment was exemplary in the highest degree. On the 3d of October, 1793, she was brought 
 before the revolutionary tribunal, and replied to all the questions of her judges satisfactorily, 
 and with decision. When Hebert accused her of having seduced her own son, she answered, 
 with a noble burst of indignation, 'I appeal to every mother here whether such a crime be 
 possible!' She heard her sentence with perfect calmness, and the next day ascended the 
 Bcalfuld. The beauty for which she was once so celebrated was gone; grief had distorted 
 her features, and in the damp, unhealthy prison, she had almost lost one of her eyes. When 
 nhe reached the place of execution, she cast back one fond, lingering look at the Tuileries, 
 tnd then mounted the scaffold. When she came to the top, she flung herself on her knees, 
 and exclaimed, ' Farewell, my dear children, for ever — I go to your father!' Thus died the 
 ^ucen of France, October 1 6, 1791, towards the close of the thirty-eighth year of her fcge. 
 
 Bncyclopoedia Americana. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 325 
 
 dence and hope, but at that instant some fresh battalions of the national 
 guard arrived, which had been formed later than the others, and came 
 agreeably to the order previously issued by Mandat. They entered at the 
 moment when the cries of " Jive le RoiV^ rang in the court. Some joined 
 those who thus hailed the presence of the monarch ; others, holding differ- 
 ent sentiments, fancied themselves in danger, and, calling to mind all the 
 popular fables that had been circulated, imagined that tliey were about to be 
 given up to the knights of the dagger. They immediately cried out that 
 they were betrayed by that villain Mandat, and raised a kind of tumult. 
 The gunners, following their example, turned their pieces against the front 
 of the palace. A quarrel instantly ensued with the loyal battalions. The 
 gunners were disarmed and consigned to a detachment, and the new comers 
 were despatched towards the gardens. 
 
 At this moment, the Kia<j, ai\er showing- h'. iiself in the balcony, went 
 down stairs to review the troops in the courts. His coming having been 
 announced, every one had resumed his place in the ranks. He walked 
 through them with a tranquil countenance, and cast upon them expressive 
 looks which penetrated all hearts. Addressing the soldiers, he said, with a 
 firm voice, that he was touched by their attachment, tliat he should be by 
 their side, and that, in defending him, tliey were defending their wives and 
 their children. He then proceeded tlirough the vestibule, with the intention 
 of going to the garden, but at that moment he heard shouts of " Down with 
 the Veto!'''' raised by one of the battalions Avhich had just entered. Two 
 officers who were at liis side, were then anxious to prevent him from con- 
 tinuing the review in the garden, others begged him to go and inspect the 
 post at the Pont Tournant. He courageously complied. But he was 
 obliged to pass along the Terrace of the Feuilhms, which was crowded with 
 people. During this walk, he was separated from the furious multitude, 
 merely by a tricoloured ribbon. He nevertheless advanced, in spite of all 
 sorts of insults and abuse ; *• he even saw the battalions file off before his 
 face, traverse the garden, and leave it with the intention of joining the 
 assailants in the Place du Carrousel. 
 
 This desertion, that of t]ie gunners, and the shouts of "Down with the 
 Veto!''' had extinguished all hope in tlie King. At the same moment, the 
 gendarmes, assembled at the colonnade of the Louvre and other places, had 
 either dispersed or joined the populace. The national guard, which occu- 
 pied the apartments, and which could, it was conceived, be relied upon, was 
 on its part dissatisfied at being with tlie orentlemen, and appeared to distrust 
 them. The Queen strove to encourage it. "Grenadiers," cried she, point- 
 ing to those gentlemen, " these are your comrades ; they are come to die by 
 your side." In spite, however, of lliis apparent courage, her soul was over- 
 whelmed with despair. The review had ruined every thing, and sh»3 
 lamented that the Kinnf had shown no energy. That unfortunate prince, we 
 cannot forbear repeating, feared nothing for himself. He had, in fact, 
 refused to wear a buckler, as on the 14th of July, saying that on the day 
 of batde it behoved him to be uncovered, like the meanest of his servants.! 
 
 " • I was at a vvinJow looking^ on the garden. I saw some of the gunners quit their posts, 
 go up the King, and thrust their fists in his face, insulting him in the most brutal language, 
 Ho was as pale as a corpse. When the royal family came in again, the Queen told me thai 
 all was lost; that the King had shown no energy; and that this sort of review had don« 
 more harm than good." — Madame Campan. E. 
 
 f'The Queen told me that the King had just refused to put on the under-waistcoat of 
 mail which she had prepared for him ; that he had consented to wear it on the 14th of Jixiy 
 
^^^ HISTORY OF THE 
 
 He was not, therefore, deficient in courage, and he afterwards displayod a 
 Iru^y noble and elevated courage ; but he lacked the boldness requisite fo, 
 offensive operations. He lacked also consistency, and ought not, for ex 
 ample, to have dreaded the effusion of blood, when he consented to the 
 invasion of France by foreigners. It is certain, as has frequently been 
 observed, that, bad he mounted a horse and charged at the head of his 
 adherents, the insurrection would have been quelled. 
 
 At this moment, the members of the department, seeing the general con- 
 fusion in the palace, and despairing of the success of resistance, went to the 
 King and besought him to retire into the bosom of the Assembly. Thii 
 advice, so frequently calumniated, like all that is given to kings, when not 
 successful, recommended the only suitable course at the moment. By 
 this retreat, all bloodshed was likely to be prevented, and the royal family 
 preserved from a death that was almost certain if the palace should be taken 
 by storm. In the existing state of things, the success of the assault was not 
 doubtful, and, had it been, the very doubt was sufficient to make one avoid 
 exposing oneself to it. 
 
 The Queen vehemendy opposed this plan.* " Madame," said Roederer, 
 " you endanger the lives of your husband and children. Think of the 
 responsibility which you take upon yourself." The altercation grew very 
 warm. At length the King decided to retire to the Assembly. " Let us 
 go," said he, with a resigned look, to his family and to those around him 
 " Sir," said the Queen to Rosderer, " you answer for the lives of tlie King 
 and of my children." — " Madam," replied the prociireur syndic^ "I answer 
 for it that I will die by their side, but I promise nothing more." 
 
 They then set out, to proceed to the Assembly by the garden, the Terrace 
 of the Feuillans and the court of the Riding-house. All the gendemen and 
 servants rushed forward to follow the King, though it was possible diatthey 
 might compromise him by irritating the populace and exciting tlie ill-will 
 of the Assembly by their presence. Roederer strove in vain to stop them, 
 and loudly declared that they would cause the royal family to be murdered. 
 He at length succeeded in keeping back a great number, and the royal party 
 set out. A detachment of Swiss and of the national guard accompanied the 
 royal family. A deputation of the Assembly came to receive and to conduct 
 it into its bosom. At this moment, the concourse was so great that the 
 crowd was impenetrable. A tall grenadier took hold of the dauphin, and, 
 lifting him up in his arms, forced his way through the mob, holding him 
 over his head. The Queen, at this sight, conceived that her child was 
 going to be taken from her and gave a shriek ; but she was soon set right; 
 for the grenadier entered, and placed the royal infant on the bureau of the 
 Assembly. 
 
 The King and his family then entered, followed by two ministers. "I 
 come," said Louis XVI., " to prevent a great crime, and I think, gendemen, 
 that I cannot be safer than in the midst of you." 
 
 because he was merely going to a ceremony, where the blade of an assassin was to be appre* 
 bended ; but that on a day on which his party might have to fight against the revolutionistSj 
 he thought there was something cowardly in preserving his life by such means." — Madame 
 Campan. E. 
 
 * "The Queen felt at once all the dishonour of throwing themselves as suppliants on the 
 protection of a body which had not shown even a shadow of interest in their favour. Ere 
 she consented to such infamy, she said she would willingly be nailed to the walls of the 
 palace. She accompanied, however, her husband, his sister, and his children, and on bet 
 way to the Assembly, was robbed of her watch and purse." — Scott's Life of Napneon, E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 327 
 
 VergniauJ, who presided, replied to the monarch that he might rely on 
 ihe firmness of the National Assembly, and that its members had sworn to 
 die in defence of the constitnted authorities. 
 
 The King sealed himself beside the president; but on the observation of 
 Chabot, that liis presenqp might affect the freedom of deliberation, lie was 
 placed in the box of the writer appointed \o report the proceedings. The 
 iron railing was removed, that, in c'^£e a forcible entry should be made into 
 the box, he might with his family take shelter without impediment in tlie 
 Assembly. In this operation the pilnce assisted with his own hands. The 
 railing was pulled down, and thus insults and threats could the more freely 
 reacli the dethroned monarch in his last asylum.'- 
 
 Rosderer then gave an account of what had happened. He described the 
 fury of the multitude, and the danger which threatened the palace, tlie courts 
 of Avhich were already in the possession of tlie mob. The Assembly ordered 
 twenty of its commissioners to go and pacify tlie populace. The commis- 
 sioners departed. A discharge of cannon was all at once heard. Conster- 
 nation pervaded the hall. "I assure you," said the King, "that I have 
 ordered the Swiss to be forbidden to fire." But the report of cannon was 
 again heard, mingled with the sound of musketry. The agitation was at its 
 height. Intelligence was soon brought that the commissioners deputed by 
 the Assembly had been dispersed. At tlie same moment, the door of the 
 hall was attacked, and rang with tremendous blows. Armed citizens ap- 
 peared at one of the entrances. " We are stormed !" exclaimed a municipal 
 officer. The president put on his hat ; and a multitude of deputies rushed 
 from their seats to keep back the assailants. At length the tumult was ap- 
 peased, and, amidst the uninterrupted reports of the musketry and cannon, 
 the deputies shouted, " The nation, liberty, equality for ever !" 
 
 At this moment, in fact, a mo^^t sanguinary combat was raging at the 
 palace. The King having left it, it was naturally supposed that the people 
 would not persist in their attack on a forsaken dwelling; besides, the general 
 agitation had prevented any attention from being paid to the subject, and no 
 order had been issued for its evacuation. All the troops that were in the 
 courts had merely been withdrawn into the interior of the palace, and they 
 were confusedly mingled in the apartments with the domestics, the gentle- 
 men, and the officers. The crowd at tlie palace was immense, and it was 
 scarcely possible to move there, notwithstanding its vast extent. 
 
 The rabble, probably ignorant of the King's departure, after waiting a 
 considerable time before the principal wicket, at length attacked the gate, 
 broke it open Avith hatchets, and rushed into the Royal Court. They then 
 formed in column, and turned against the palace the guns imprudently left 
 in the court after the troops had been withdrawn. The assailants, however, 
 yet forebore to attack. They made amicable demonstrations to the soldiers 
 at the windows. " Give up the palace to us," said they, " and we are 
 friends." The Swiss professed pacific intentions, and threw cartridges out 
 of the windows. Some of the boldest of the besiegers, venturing beyond 
 the columns, advanced beneath the vestibule of the palace. At the foot of 
 the staircase had been placed a piece of timber in the form of a barrier, and 
 behind it were intrenched, pell-mell, some Swiss and national guards. Thos? 
 
 • " An ordinary workman of the suburbs, in a dress which implied abject poverty, made 
 his way into ihe palace where the royal family "'ere seated, demanding (he King by tho 
 name of Monsieur Veto. ' So you are here,' he said, ' beast of ? Veto I There is a purse 
 of gold I found in your house yonder; if you had found mine, y-^-\ would not have been so 
 honest.' " — Barbaroux^s Memoirs. — Lacretelle denies the truth ot this anecdote E 
 
328 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 who from the outside had pushed in thus far, resolved to advance still farther 
 and to gain possession of the barrier. After a struggle of considerable length, 
 which, however, did not end in a battle, the barrier was taken. The assail- 
 ants then forced their way up the staircase, repeating that the palace must 
 be given up to them. , 
 
 It is asserted that, at this moment, men armed with pikes, who had 
 remained in the court, caught hold with hooks the Swiss sentries stationed 
 outside, and murdered them. It is added that a musket-shot was fired at a 
 window, and that the Swiss, enraged at it, replied by a volley. A tremen- 
 dous discharge immediately pealed in the palace, and those who had pene- 
 trated into it fled, crying that they were betrayed. It is difficult to ascertain, 
 amidst this confusion, by which side the first shots were fired. The 
 assailants have alleged that they advanced amicably, and that, when they 
 had once entered the palace, they were treacherously surprised and fired 
 upon. It is very improbable, for the Swiss were not in a situation to provoke 
 a conflict. As, after the King's departure, it was no longer their duty to 
 fight, they must naturally have thought only of saving themselves, and 
 treachery was not the way to do that. Besides, if even aggression could 
 change anything in the moral character of these events, it must be admitted 
 that the first and real aggression, that is, the attack of the palace, proceeded 
 from the insurgents. The rest was but an inevitable accident, to be imputed 
 to chance alone. 
 
 Be this as it may, those who had succeeded in forcing their way into the 
 vestibule and upon the great staircase suddenly heard the discharge, and, 
 whilst retreating, and upon the staircase itself, they received a shower of 
 balls. The Swiss then descended in good order, and, on reaching the last 
 steps, debouched by the vestibule into the Royal Court. There they made 
 themselves masters of one of the pieces of cannon which were in the court; 
 and, in spits of a terrible fire, turned and discharged it at the Marseillais, 
 killing a great number of them. The Marseillais then fell back, and, the 
 fire continuing, they abandoned tlie court. Terror instantly seized the 
 populace, who fled on all sides, and regained the fauxbourgs. If the Swiss 
 had at this moment followed up their advantage; if the gendarmes stationed 
 at the Louvre, instead of deserting their post, had charged the repulsed 
 besiegers, the business would have been decided, and victory would have 
 belonged to the palace. 
 
 But at this moment the King's order arrived, sent through M. d'Hervilly, 
 forbidding the Swiss to fire. M. d'Hervilly had reached the vestibule at the 
 moment when the Swiss had just repulsed the besiegers. He stopped them, 
 and enjoined them in the name of the King to follow him to the Assembly. 
 The Swiss, in considerable number, then followed M. d'Hervilly to the 
 Feuillans amidst the most galling discharges. The palace was thus deprived 
 of the greater portion of its defenders. Still, however, a considerable num- 
 ber were left, either on the staircase, or in the apartments. These the order 
 had not reached, and they were soon destined to be exposed, without means 
 of resistance, to the most awful dano^ers. 
 
 Meanwhile the besiegers had rallied. The Marseillais, united to the 
 Bretons, were ashamed of having given way. They took courage agam, 
 and returned the charge boiling with fury. Westermann, who afterwards 
 displayed genuine talents, directed their efforts with intelligence. They 
 rushed forward with ardour, fell in great numbers, but at length gained the 
 vestibule, passed the staircase, and made themselves masters of the palace. 
 Th( rabble, with pikes, poured in after them, and the rest of the scene was 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 329 
 
 soon but one general massacre^- The unfortunate Swiss in vam begged 
 for quarter, at the same time throwing down tlieir arms. They Avere 
 butchered ^vithout mercy. The palace was set on fire ; the servants who 
 filled it were pursued ; some escaped, others were sacrificed.t Among the 
 
 •"It was no longer a battle, but a massacre. The enraged multitude broke into the 
 palace, and [lut to death every person found within it. The fugitives, pursued into the gar- 
 dens of the Tuilerics, were murdered under the trees, amidst the fountains, and at the feet of 
 the statues. 8omc wretches cliinbed up the marble monuments which aJorn that splendid 
 spot, 'i'hc insurgents refrained from firing, lest they should injure the statuary, but pricked 
 them with their bayonets till they came down, and then slaughtered them at their feet: an 
 instance of taste for art, mingled with revolutionary cruelty, unparalleled in the history of tho 
 world." — Alison. E. 
 
 ■\ " 'i'hc pi)j)ulace had no sooner become masters of the palace than they exerted their fury 
 against every soul in it without distinction. The gentlemen ushers of the chambers, the 
 pages of the liack-stairs, the dooikeepers, even persons in the lowest and most servile employ 
 meats were all alike butchered. Streams of blood flowed everywhere from the roofs to iY.e 
 cellars. It was impossible to set foot on a single spot without treading upon a dead body. 
 Stri[)ped, many of them, as soon as they were murdered, their lifeless bodies presented in 
 addition to the ghastliness of death, the chucking s[iectatlc of a mutilation which the mind 
 may conceive, but which modesty forbids mc to describe. And among the perpetrators of 
 these atrocious deeds, were found women ! Seven hundred and lifty Swiss perished on that 
 drcaJlul day ! Nine olhcers survived, only to be butchered a few days after in a more cruel 
 manner. The instant tho mob rushed into the palace, they forced their way into, and 
 plundered every corner. Bureaus were burst oi)en ; furniture was broken to pieces, and 
 flung out of the windows; even the cellars were ransacked ; in short, the whole presented 
 nothing but scenes of devastation and death. The mob spared only the paintings in the 
 Btatc-room. The butchery did not cease for hours ; but the aristocrats were no longer the 
 only vietnns. Some of t!is rioters were massacred by other rioters. Rapine, drunkenness, 
 and im|iunity increased (lie numbers of the populace; the day seemed to be made the revel 
 of carnage ; and the mangled bodies of the Swiss were covered with fresh heaps of the self 
 destroyed rabble ! — Pcl/ier. E. 
 
 "In about half an hour after the royal family had gone to the Assembly, I saw four heads 
 carried on pikes along the terrace of Feuillans towards the building where the legislative 
 body was sitting : which was, I believe, the signal for attacking the palace ; tor at the same 
 instant there began a dreadful fire of cannon and mu.-ketry. The palace was everywhere 
 pierced with balls and bullets. I ran from place to place, and finding the apartments ana 
 staircases already strewed with dead bodies, I took the resolution of leaping from one of the 
 windows in the Queen's room down upon the terrace. I continui d my road till I came to 
 the dauphin's garden-gate, where some Marseillais who had just butchered several of the 
 Swiss were stripping them. One of them came up to me with a bloody sword in his hand, 
 saying, 'How, citizen, without arms! Here, take this sword, and help us to kill!' How 
 ever, luckdy, another Marseillais seized it, and being dressed in a plain frock I succeeded in 
 making my escape. Some of the Swiss who were pursued, took refuge in an adjoining stable. 
 I concealed myself in the same place. They were soon cut to pieces close to me. On hearing 
 their cries, the master of the house ran up, and I seized that opportunity of going in, where, 
 without knowing me, M. Ic Dreux and his wife invited me to stay till the danger was over. 
 Presently a body of armed men came in to see if any of the Swiss were concealed there. 
 After a fruitless search, these fellows, their hands dyed with blood, stopped and coolly related 
 the murders of which they had been guilty. I remained in this asylum from ten o'clock in 
 the morning till four in the afternoon; having before my eyes a view of all the horrors tha* 
 were perpetrated at the Place de Louis Quinze. Of the men, some were still continuing the 
 Blaughter, and others cutting olf the heads of those who were already slain ; while the women, 
 lost to all sense of shame, were committing the most indecent mutilations on the dead bodies, 
 from which they tore pieces of flesh, and carried them olf in triumph. Towards evening I 
 took the road to Versailles, and crossed the Pont Louis vSeize which was covered with the 
 naked carcasses of men already in a state of putrefaction from the great heat of the weather," 
 ^Clery. E. 
 
 "The 10th of August was a day I shall never forget. It was the day of my fete, and 
 
 hitherto I had aUvays spent it happily. It was now a day of mourning. In the streets tho 
 
 cries of the people mingled with the thundering of artillery and the groans of the wounded. 
 
 About noon my brother entered with one of his companions in arms, who was wrapped in a 
 
 VOL. I. — 42 
 
330 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 niimbei, there were generoiiS conquerors. " Spare the women," cried one 
 of them ; "do not dishonour the nation !" and he saved the Queen's ladies, 
 wlio were on their knees, with swords uplifted over their heads. There 
 were courageous victims ; there were others who displayed ingenuity in 
 saving, when they had no longer the courage to defend themselves. Amono 
 those furious conquerors there were even feelings of honesty, and, either 
 from popular vanity, or from that disinterestedness which springs from 
 enthusiasm, the money found in the palace was carried to the Assembly. 
 
 The Assembly had anxiously awaited the issue of the combat. At length, 
 at eleven o'clock, were heard shouts of victory a thousand times repeated. 
 The doors yielded to the pressure of a mob intoxicated with joy and fury. 
 The hall was filled with wrecks that were brought thither, and Avith the 
 Swiss who had been made prisoners, and whose lives had been spared, in 
 order to do homage to the Assembly by this act of popular clemency. 
 Meanwhile, the King and his family, confined within the narrow box of a 
 reporter, witnessed the ruin of their throne and the joy of their conquerors.* 
 
 great-coat. The young royalist had tasted nothing for forty hours, and he had just escaped 
 from the pursuit of those who would have massacred him if they could have found him. 
 The young gentleman was carefully concealed in my little apartment. My father was out, 
 and my brother went frequently to the gale to look for him. The storm seemed to be sub- 
 siding, but the firing of musketry was still heard at intervals. Night was drawing on, and 
 my father had not yet returned. My brother again went to the gate to look for him, and 
 he saw a man quickly turn the corner of our hotel. He immediately recognised my father, 
 who desired him to leave the door open, observing that he was merely going round the cor- 
 ner to fetch a person who was in the arcade of the mint. He returned, bringing with him a 
 gentleman who was scarcely able to walk. He was leaning on the arm of my father, who 
 conducted him silently to a bedchamber. It was M. de Bevy. He was pale and faint, and 
 the blood was flowing copiously from his wounds. The horrors of that awful day are nevei 
 to be forgotten !" — Duchess d' Ahrantes. E. 
 
 * " For fifteen hours the royal family were shut up in the short-hand writers' box. At 
 length at one in the morning, they were transferred to the Feuillans. When left alone, Louia 
 prostrated himself in prayer." — Lacretelle. E. 
 
 " The royal family remained three days at the Feuillans. They occupied a small suite 
 of apartments consisting of four cells. In the first were the gentlemen who had accompanied 
 the King. In the second we found the King ; he was having his hair dressed ; he took two 
 locks of it, and gave one to my sister, and one to me. In the third was the Queen, in bed, 
 and in an indescribable state of affliction. We found her attended only by a bulky woman, 
 who seemed tolerably civil ; she waited upon the Queen, who, as yet, had none of her own 
 people about her. I asked her majesty what the ambassadors of foreign powers had done 
 under existing circumstances. She told me that they could do nothing, but that the lady of 
 the English ambassador had just given her a proof of the private interest she took in her 
 welfare by sending her linen for her son. — Madame Campan. E. 
 
 " At this frightful period, Lady Sutherland (the present Duchess and Countess of 
 Sutherland) then English ambassadress at Paris, showed the most devoted attentions to the 
 royal family." — Madame de Slael. E. 
 
 " It was in this prison (the reporters' box) six feet square and eight feet high, the white 
 walls of which reflected the rays of the sun, and increased their ardour, that the King and 
 his family spent fourteen hours together in the course of a day that was burning hot. As 
 the mob kept tumultuously crowding round the hall, it was found advisable to destroy an iron 
 railing, which separated this lodge from the National Assembly, that the King might be ablp 
 to get into the Assembly in case the lodge should be attacked. Four of the ministers and 
 the King himself were obliged to pull down this iron railing without any instrument but the 
 strength of their hands and arms. The King then sat down and remained in his chair, with 
 his hat oIT, during the debate that followed, keeping his eyes constantly fixed on the Assem- 
 bly, and tnking no refreshment for the whole time but a peach and a glass of water."— 
 Fellkr. E. 
 
 " One circumstance may serve as a proof of the illusion in which the Queen was, witb 
 csoect to her situation, even w hen she was in the reporters' box. When the cannons were 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 331 
 
 Vergniaud had for a moment quitted the chair, for the purpose of drawing 
 up the decree of dethronement. He returned, and the Assembly passed 
 tliat celcbraled decree, to tliis effect : 
 
 Louis XVI. is, for tlie time being, suspended from royalty; 
 
 A plan of education is directed for the prince royal ; 
 
 A national convention is convoked. 
 
 Was it then a plan long resolved upon to overthrow the monarchy, bince 
 they only suspended tlie King and provided an education for the prince : 
 With what fear, on the contrary, did they not lay hands on that ancient 
 power ! AVith what a kind of hesitation did they not approach that aged 
 tree, beneath wliich the French generations had been alternately fortunate 
 or unfortunate, but under which at least they had lived ! 
 
 The public mind, however, is prompt. It needed but a short interval to 
 throw otf the relics of an ancient veneration ; and the monarchy suspended, 
 was soon to become tlie monarchy destroyed. It was doomed to perish, 
 not in the person of a Louis XL, a Charles IX., a Louis XIV., but in that 
 of Louis XVI., one of the most honest kings that ever sat upon a throne. 
 
 firing upon the palace, and in the midst of the violent petitions for dethroning the King, her 
 majesty, relying upon the president's speech to the King at his entrance, turned to Count 
 d'Hcrvilly, who was standing behind her, and said, ' Well, M. d'Hervilly, were we not in 
 the right not to go away V — ' I wish, with all my heart, madam,' answered the count, ' that 
 your majesty may lie of the same opinion six months hence !' " — Bertrand de Molkville. E. 
 " For many long hours the King and his family were shut up in the reporters' box. Ex- 
 hausted by fatigue, the infant dauphin at length dropped ofl' into a profound sleep in his 
 mother's arms; the princess royal and Madame Elizabeth, with their eyes streaming with 
 tears, sat on each side of her. At last they were transferred to the buildmg of the Fcuillans, 
 Already the august captives felt the pangs of indigence; all their dresses and cflects had 
 been pillaged or destroyed ; the dauphin was indebted for a change of linen to the wife of th« 
 English ambassador; and the Queen was obliged to borrow twenty -five louis from Maiaai 
 Anguie, one of the ladies of the bedchgraber." — Alison. E. 
 
339 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 CONCLUSION OF THE LEGISLATIVE 
 
 ASSEMBLY. 
 
 The Swiss had courageously defended the Tuileries, but their resistance 
 had proved unavaiUng : the great staircase had been stormed and the palace 
 taken. The people, thenceforward victorious, forced their way on all sides 
 into this abode of royalty, to which they had always attached the notion of 
 immense treasures, unbounded felicity, formidable powers, and dark projects 
 
 What an arrear of vengeance to be wreaked at once upon wealth, great- 
 ness, and power 1 
 
 Eighty Swiss grenadiers, who had not had time to retreat, vigorously de- 
 fended their lives and were slaughtered without mercy. The mob then rushed 
 into the apartments and fell upon those useless friends who had assembled 
 to defend the King, and who, by the name of knights of the dagger, had 
 incurred the highest degree of popular rancour. Their impotent weapons 
 served only to exasperate the conquerors, and give greater probability to the 
 plans imputed to the court. Every door that was found locked was broken 
 open. Two ushers, resolving to defend the entrance to the great council- 
 chamber and to sacrifice themselves to etiquette, were instantly butchered. 
 The numerous attendants of the royal family fled tumultuously through the 
 lonof galleries, threw themselves from the windows, or sought in the immense 
 extent of the palace some obscure hiding-place wherein to save their lives. 
 The Queen's ladies betook themselves to one of her apartments, and expected 
 every moment to be attacked in their asylum. By direction of the Princess 
 of Tarentum, the doors were unlocked, that the irritation might not be 
 increased by resistance. The assailants made their appearance and seized 
 one of them. The sword was already uplitted over her head. "Spare the 
 women !" exclaimed a voice ; "let us not dishonour the nation !" At these 
 words the weapon dropped; the lives of the Queen's ladies were spared; 
 they were protected and conducted out of the palace by the very men who 
 were on the point of sacrilicing them, and who, with all the popular fickle- 
 ness, now escorted them and manifested the most ingenious zeal to save 
 them. 
 
 After the work of slaughter followed that of devastation. The magnificent 
 furniture was dashed in pieces, and the fragments scattered far and wide. 
 The rabble penetrated into the private apartments of the Queen and indulged 
 in the most obscene mirth. They pried into the most secret recesses, ran- 
 sacked every depository of papers, broke open every lock, and enjoyed the 
 twofold gratification of curiosity and destruction. To the horrors of murder 
 and pillage were added those of conflagration. The flames, having already 
 consumed the sheds contiguous to the outer courts, began to spread to the 
 edifice, and threatened that imposing abode of royalty with complete ruin. 
 The desolation was not confined to the melancholy circuit of the palace ; it 
 extended to a distance. Tlie streets were strewed with wrecks of furniture 
 and dead bodies. Every one who fled, or was supposed to be fleeing, was 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 333 
 
 treated as an enemy, pursued, and fired at. An almost incessant report of 
 musketry succeeded that of the cannon, and was every moment the sio-nal 
 of fresh murders. How many horrors are the attendants of victory, be tlie 
 vanquished, the conquerors, and the cause for which they have fought, who 
 and what they may ! 
 
 The executive power being abolished by the suspension of Louis XVI, , 
 only two other authorities were left in Paris, that of the commune and that 
 of the Assembly. As we have seen in tiie narrative of the 10th oi Aus^ust, 
 deputies of the sections had assembled at the Hotel de Ville, expelled the 
 former jnagistrates, seized the municipal power, and directed the insurrection 
 during the whole night and day of the lOdi. They possessed the real power 
 of action. 'I'hey had all the ardour of victory, and represented that new and 
 impetuous revolutionary class, which had straggled during the whole session 
 ai^ainst the inertness of the other more enlici^htened but less active class of 
 men, of which the Legislative Assembly was composed. 
 
 The first thing the deputies of the sections did Avas to displace all the high 
 authorities, which, being closer to the supreme power, were more attached 
 to it. They had suspended the stalT of the national guard, and, by with- 
 drawing Mandat from the palace, had disorganized its defence. Santerre 
 had been invested by them widi the command of the national guard. They 
 had been in not less Jiastc to suspend the administration of the department, 
 which, from the lofty region wherein it Avas placed, had continually curbed 
 the popular passions, in which it took no share. 
 
 As for the municipality, they had suj)pressed the general council, substi- 
 tuted themselves in the place of its authority, and merely retained Petion, 
 the mayor, Manuel, the procurcur i;i/ndic, and the sixteen municipal admi- 
 nistrators. All this had taken place during the attack on the palace. Danton 
 had audaciously directed tliat stormy sitting; and when the grape-shot of 
 the Swiss liad caused the mob to fall back along the quays, he had gone out 
 saying, "Our brethren call for aid; let us go and give it to them." His 
 presence liad contributed to lead the populace back to the field of battle, and 
 to decide the victory. 
 
 When the combat v/as over, it Avas proposed that Petion should be re- 
 leased from the guard placed over him and reinstated in his office of mayor. 
 Nevertheless, either from real anxiety for his safety, or from fear of giving 
 themselves too scrupulous a chief during the first moments of the insurrec- 
 tion, it had been decided that he should be guarded a day or two longer, 
 under pretext of putting liis life out of danger. At the same time, they had 
 removed tlie busts of Louis XVL, Bailly, and Lafayette, from the hall of the 
 general council. Tiie new class which was raising itself thus displaced the 
 first emblems of the Revolution, in order to substitute its own in their stead. 
 
 The insurgents of the commune had to place themselves in communica- 
 tion with the Assembly. They reproached it with wavering, nay, even 
 with royalism ; but they regarded it as the only existing sovereign authority, 
 and were not at all disposed to undervalue it. On the morning of the 10th, 
 a deputation appeared at tlie bar, to acquaint it with the formation of the 
 msurrectional commune, and to state what had been done. Danton was one 
 of the deputies. " The people who send us to you," said he, " have charged 
 us to declare that they still think you worthy of their confidence, but that 
 ihey recognise no other judge of the extraordinary measures to which neces 
 eity has forced them to recur, than the French nation, our sovereign and 
 your's, convoked in the primary assemblies." To these deputies the As- 
 sembly replied, through the medium of its president, that it approved all that 
 
334 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 had been done, and that it recommended to them order and peace. It more 
 over communicated to them the decrees passed in the course of the day, and 
 begged that they would circulate them. After this, it drew up a proclama- 
 tion for the purpose of enjoining the respect due to persons and property, 
 and commissioned some of its members to convey it to the people. 
 
 Its first attention, at this moment, was naturally directed to the supply of 
 a substitute for royalty, which had been destroyed. The ministers, assem* 
 bled under the name of the executive council, were charged by it, ad interim^ 
 with the duties of the administration and the execution of the laws. The 
 minister of justice, the keeper of the seal of state, was to affix it to the 
 decrees, and to promulgate them in the name of the legislative power. It 
 was then requisite to select the persons who should compose the ministry. 
 The first idea was to reinstate Roland, and Clavieres, and Servan, who had 
 been removed on account of their attachment to the popular cause ; for the 
 new Revolution could not but favour all that royalty had disapproved. 
 Those three ministers were, therefore, unanimously reappointed ; Roland to 
 the interior, Servan to the war-department, and Clavieres to the finances. 
 It was requisite also to appoint a minister of justice, of foreign aff"airs, and 
 of the marine. Here the choice was free, and the wishes formerly con- 
 ceived in favour of obscure merit and patriotism, ardent, and for that reason 
 disagreeable to the court, could be realized without impediment. Danton 
 who possessed such influence over the multitude, and who had exerted il 
 with such eff'ect during the last forty-eight hours, was deemed necessary; 
 and, though he was disliked by the Girondins as a delegate of the populace, 
 he was nominated minister of justice by a majority of two hundred and 
 twenty-two votes, out of two hundred and eighty-four. After this satisfaction 
 given to the people, and this post conferred on energy, care was taken to 
 place a man of science at the head of the marine. This was Monge, the 
 mathematician, known to and appreciated by Condorcet, and chosen at his 
 suggestion. Lastly, Lebrun* was placed at the head of the foreign affairs, 
 and in his person was recompensed one of those industrious men who had 
 before performed all the labour of whicli the ministers reaped the honour. 
 
 Having thus reconstituted the executive power, the Assembly declared 
 that all the decrees to wliich Louis XVI. had affixed his veto should receive 
 the force of law. The formation of a camp below Paris, the object of one 
 of these decrees, and the cause of such warm discussions, was immediately 
 ordered, and the gunners were authorized that very day to commence espla- 
 nades on the heights of Montmarte. After eff*ecting a revolution in Paris, it 
 was requisite to insure its success in the departments, and, above all, in the 
 armies, commanded as they were by suspected generals. Commissaries, 
 selected from among the members of the Assembly, were directed to repair 
 to the provinces and to the armies, to enlighten them respecting the events 
 of the 10th of August ; and they were authorized to remove, in case of need, 
 all the officers, civil and military, and to appoint otliers. 
 
 A few hours had been sufficient for all these decrees; and, while the 
 Assembly was engaged in passing them, it was constantly interrupted by the 
 necessity of attending to other matters. The valuables carried off from the 
 Tuileries were deposited within its precincts. The Swiss, the servants of 
 tlie palace, and all those who had been apprehended in their flight, or saved 
 from the fury of the people, were conducted to its bar as to a sanctuary. A 
 
 * "Lehrun passed for a prudent raan, because he was destitute of any species of enthusi- 
 asm ; and for a clever man^ because he was a tolerable clerk ; but he had no activity, no 
 lent, and no decision." — Madame Roland's Memoirs. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. ' 305 
 
 great number of petitioners came, one after another, to report what they had 
 done or seen, and to relate their discoveries concerning the supposed plots 
 of the court. Accusations and invectives of all kinds were brought forward 
 against the royal family, which heard all this from the narrow space to which 
 it was confined. That place was the box of the short-hand writer. Louis 
 XVI. listened with composure to all the speeches, and conversed at times 
 with Vergniaud and other deputies, who were placed close to him. Shut 
 up there for fifteen hours, he asked for some refreshment, which he shared 
 with his wife and his cluldren ; and this circumstance called fortli ignoble 
 observations on the fondness for the table which had been imputed to him. 
 Every one knows how fir victorious parties are disposed to spare misfortune. 
 The young dauphin was lying on his mother's lap, fast asleep, overcome by 
 the oppressive heat. The young princess and Madame Elizabeth,'' their 
 eyes red with weeping, were by the side of the Queen. At the back of the 
 box were several gentlemen devotedly attached to the King, who had not 
 abandoned misfortune. Fifty men, belonging to the troops which had 
 escorted the royal family from the palace to the Assembly, served as a guard 
 for this spot, from which the deposed monarch beheld the spoils of his palace, 
 and witnessed the dismemberment of liis ancient power, and the distribution 
 of its relics among the various popular authorities. 
 
 The tumult continued to rage with extreme violence, and, in the opinion 
 of the people, it was not suflicicnt to have suspended royalty, it behoved 
 them to destroy it. Petitions on this subject poured in ; and, Avhile the 
 multitude, in an uproar, waited outside the hall for an answer, they inun- 
 dated the avenues, beset the doors, and twice or thrice attacked them with 
 such violence as nearly to burst them open, and to excite apprehensions for 
 the unfortunate family of wliich the Assembly had taken charge. Henri 
 Lariviore, wlio was sent, with other commissioners, to pacify the people, 
 returned at that moment, and loudly exclaimed, " Yes, gentlemen, 1 know 
 it, I have seen it ; I assure you that tlie mass of the people is determined to 
 perish a thousand times rather tlian disgrace lilierty by an act of inhumanity ; 
 and most assuredly there is not one person here present — and everybody 
 must understand me," he added, " wlio cannot rely upon French honour," 
 These cheering and courageous M'ords were applauded. Vergniaud spoke 
 in his turn, and replied to the petitioners, who insisted that the suspension 
 should be clianged into dethronement. " I am gratified," said he, " that I 
 am furnished with an occasion of explaining the intention of the Assembly 
 in presence of the citizens. It has decreed the suspension of the executive 
 power, and appointed a convention which is to decide irrevocably the great 
 question of the dethronement. In so doing, it has confined itself within it^ 
 powers, which did not allow it to constitute itself the judge of royalty ; and 
 it has provided for the welfare of the state, by rendering it impossible for the 
 executive power to do mischief. It has thus satisfied all wants, and at the 
 same time kept within the limits of its prerogatives." These words pio- 
 
 * " Madame Elizabeth Philippine Marie Helene, sister to Louis XVL, was born at Vei- 
 bailies in the year 1764, She was the youngest child of Louis, Dauphin of France, and 
 Marie Josephine of Saxony. At the commencement of the Revolution, Madame Elizabeth 
 saw with terror the convocation of the States-general; but when it was found to he inevita- 
 ble, she devoted herself from that moment entirely to the welfare of her brother and the royal 
 family. She was condemned to death in 1794, and ascended the scaffold with twenty-foui 
 other victims, not one of whom she knew. She was thirty years old at the time of her 
 execution, and demeaned herself throughout with courage and resignation." — Biographxe 
 Moderne. E 
 
336 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 duced a favourable impression, and the petitioners themselves, pacified hy 
 their effect, undertook to enlighten and to appease the people. 
 
 It was requisite to bring this long sitting to a close. It was therefore 
 ordered that tlie effects brought from the palace should be deposited with the 
 commune ; tliat the Swiss and all otlier persons apprehended should either 
 be guarded at the Feuillans or carried to different prisons ; lastly, that the 
 royal family should be guarded at the Luxembourg till the meeting of the 
 National Convention, but that, while the necessary preparations were making 
 there for its reception, it should lodge in tlie building appropriated to the 
 Assembly. At one o'clock in the morning of Saturday, the 11th, the royal 
 famil)'- Avas removed to the quarters which had been prepared for them, and 
 which consisted of four cells of the ancient Feuillans. The gendemen who 
 had not quitted the King took possession of the first, the King of the second, 
 the Queen, her sister, and her children, of the two others. The keeper's 
 wife waited on the princesses, and supplied the place of the numerous train 
 of ladies, who, but the preceding day, were disputing the honour of attending 
 upon them. 
 
 The sitting was suspended at three o'clock in the morning. Paris was 
 still in an uproar. To prevent disturbance, the environs of the palace were 
 illuminated, and the greater part of the citizens were under arms. 
 
 Such had been that celebrated day, and the results which it had pro- 
 duced. The King and his family were prisoners at the Feuillans ; the three 
 dismissed ministers were reinstated in their functions ; Danton, buried the 
 preceding day in an obscure club, Avas minister of justice ; Petion was 
 guarded in his own residence, but to his name, shouted Avith enthusiasm, 
 Avas added the appellati(3n of Father of the People. Marat had issued from 
 the dark retreat Avhere Danton had concealed him during the attack, and noAV, 
 armed Avith a sword, paraded through Paris at the head of the Marseilles 
 battalion Robespierre, Avho has not been seen figuring during these terrible 
 scenes — Robespierre was haranguing at the Jacobins, and expatiating to some 
 of the members Avho remained Avith him on the use to be made of tlie victory, 
 and on the necessity of superseding the existing Assembly and of impeaching 
 Lafayette. 
 
 The very next day it Avas found necessary again to consider hoAV to pacify 
 the excited populace, avIio still continued to murder such persons as they 
 took for fugitive aristocrats. The Assembly resumed its sitting at seven in 
 the morning. The royal family was replaced in the short-hand Avriter's box, 
 that it might again Avitness the decisions about to be adopted, and the scenes 
 that Avere to occur in the legislative body. Petion, liberated and escorted by 
 a numerous concourse, came to make a report of the state of Paris, Avhich 
 he had visited, and Avliere he had endeavoured to restore tranquillity. A 
 body of citizens had united to protect his person. Petion Avas warmly re- 
 ceived by the Assembly, and immediately set out again to continue his pacific 
 exhortations. The Swiss, sent the preceding day to the Feuillans, Avere 
 threatened. The mob, Avith loud shouts, demanded their death, calling them 
 accomplices of the palace and murderers of the people. They Avere at length 
 appeased by the assurance that the Swiss should be tried, and that a court- 
 niartia>" should be formed to punish those Avho Avere afterwards called tho 
 conspirators of the 10th of August. "I move," cried the violent Chabot, 
 
 "that they be conducted to the Abbaye to be tried In the land of 
 
 equality, the laAV ought to smite all heads, even those that are seated on the 
 throne." The officers had already been removed to the Abbaye, Avhilher tlie 
 soldiers Avere conveyed in their turn. This Avas a task of infinite difficulty 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 337 
 
 and it was necessary to promise the people that tlicy should speedily be 
 brouf^ht to trial. 
 
 Already, as wc see, did the idea of taking revenge on all the defenders of 
 royalty, and punishing them for the dangers that had been incurred, possess 
 people's minds ; and it was soon destined to produce cruel dissensions. In 
 following tlie progress of the insurrection, we have already remarked the 
 divi.■^i()ns that began to arise in the popular party. We have already seen 
 the Assembly, composed of sedate and cultivated men, placed in opposition 
 to the clubs and tlie municipalities, in which were collected men inferior in 
 education and in talents, but from their position, their less dignified manners, 
 their as{)iring ambition, disposed to act and to burry on events. We have 
 seen tbat the niglit before the 10th of August, Chabot had diflered in opinion 
 from Petion, who, in unison with the majority of the Assembly, recom- 
 mended a decree of dethronement in preference to an attack by main force. 
 Those men who had been advocates for the utmost possible violence were, 
 therefore, on the following day, in presence of the Assembly, proud of a 
 victory won almost in spite of that body, and reminding it with expressions 
 of equivocal respect that it had absolved Lafayette, and that it must not again 
 compromise the welfare of the people by its weakness. Tbey filled the 
 commune, where they were mingled with ambitious tradesmen, with sidjal- 
 tern agitators, and with members of clubs. Tbey occupied tbe balls of the 
 Jacol)ins and the Cordeliers, and some of them had seats on the extreme 
 benches of the legislative body. Chabot, tlie Capuchin, tbe most ardent of 
 them, passed alternately from tbe trilnme of tlie Assembly to that of the 
 Jacobins, constantly holding forth threats of pikes and the tocsin. 
 
 The Assembly had voted the suspension, and the clubs w^re for dethrone- 
 ment. In appointing a governor for the dauphin, the former had presup- 
 posed die continuance of royalty, and the latter were for a republic. The 
 majority of the Assembly tbought, tbat it beho\ed it to make an active 
 defence against foreigners, but to spare the \'anquishcd. The clubs, on the 
 contrary, maintained tbat it was riglit not only to defend themselves against 
 foreign foes, but to deal severely with those who, intrenched in the palace, 
 had intended to massacre the people and to bring the Prussians to Paris. 
 Rising in their ardour to extreme opinions, the)' declared that there was no 
 need for electoral bodies to form the new Assembly, that all the citizens 
 ought to be deemed qualified to vote ; nay one Jacobin even proposed to 
 give political rights to the women. LasUy, they loudly insisted that the 
 people ought to come in arms to manifest their wisbes to the legislative body. 
 
 Marat excited this agitation of minds and provoked people to vengeance, 
 because he thought, according to his atrocious system, that France required 
 purging. Robespierre, not so much from a system of purification, nor from 
 a bloodthirsty disposition, as from envy of the Assembly, excited against it 
 reproaches of weakness and royalism. Extolled by the Jacobins, proposed, 
 before the 10th of August, as the dictator who was wanted, he was now })ro- 
 claimed as the most eloquent and the most incorruptible defender of the rights 
 of the people. ■■ Danton, taking no pains either to gain praise or to gain a 
 hearing, having never aspired to the dictatorship, had nevertheless decided 
 the result of the 10th of August by liis boldness. Even still neglecting all 
 display, he thought only of ruling the executive council, of which he was a 
 'iiember, by controlling or infiuencing his colleagues. Incapable of hatred 
 
 • " When speaking at the clulis, Kobespierre hati a trick of adJressing the people in such 
 honeyed terms as ' Poor people !' — 'Virtuous people!' — which never failed of producing an 
 clTect on his ferocious audience." — Lacreieile. E. 
 
 VOL. I. — 43 
 
338 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 or envy, he bore no ill-will to those deputies whose lustre eclipsed Robes« 
 pierre ; but he neglected them as inactive, and preferred to ihem those bold 
 spirits of the lower classes on whom he relied more for maintaining and 
 completing the Revolution. 
 
 Nothing was yet known of these divisions, especially out of Paris. All 
 that the public of France in general had yet perceived of them Avas the re- 
 sistance of the Assembly to wishes that were too ardent, and the acquittal 
 of Lafayette, pronounced in spite of the commune and the Jacobins. But 
 all this was imputed to the royalist and Feuillantine majority. The Giron- 
 dins were still admired. Brissot and Robespierre were equally esteemed ; but 
 Petion, in particular, was adored, as the mayor who had been so ill treated 
 by the court : and it was not known that Petion appeared too moderate to 
 Chabot, that he wounded the pride of Robespierre, that he was regarded as 
 an honest but useless man by Danton, and as a conspirator doomed to purifi- 
 cation by Marat. Petion, therefore, still enjoyed the respect of the multi- 
 tude ; but, like Bailly, after the 14th of July, he was destined soon to become 
 troublesome and odious by disapproving the excesses which he was unable 
 to prevent. 
 
 The principal coalition of the new revolutionists was formed at the Jaco- 
 bins and the commune. All that was to be done was proposed and discussed 
 at the Jacobins ; and the same persons then went to the Hotel de Ville, to 
 execute, by means of their municipal powers, what they could only plan in 
 their club. The general council of the commune composed of itself a kind 
 of assembly, as numerous as the legislative body, having its tribunes, its 
 bureaux, its much more tumultuous plaudits, and a power de facto much 
 more considerable. The mayor was its president, and the procin^eur syndic 
 was the official speaker, whose duty it was to make all the necessary requi- 
 sitions. Petion had already ceased to appear there, and confined his atten- 
 tion to the supply of the city with provisions. Manuel, the procureuTy 
 suffering himself to be borne along by the revolutionary billows, raised his 
 voice there every day. But the person who most swayed this assembly 
 was Robespierre. Keeping aloof during the first three days that followed 
 the 10th of August, he had repaired thitlier after the insurrection had been 
 consummated, and, appearing at the bureau to have his powers verified, he 
 seemed rather to take possession of it than to come for the purpose of sub- 
 mitting his titles. His pride, so far from creating displeasure, only increased 
 the respect that was paid him. His reputation for talents, incorruptibility, 
 and perseverance, made him a grave and respectable personage, whom 
 these assembled tradesmen were proud of having among them. Until the 
 Convention, to Avhich he was sure of belonging, should meet, he came thither 
 to exercise a more real power than that of opinion which he enjoyed at the 
 Jacobins. 
 
 The first care of the commune was to get the police into its hands ; for, 
 in time of civd war, to imprison and to persecute enemies is the most im- 
 portant and the most envied of powers. The justices of the peace, charged 
 with the exercise of it in part, had given offence to public opinion by their 
 proceedings against the popular agitators ;. and, either from sentiment, or 
 from a necessity imposed by their functions, they had set themselves in 
 hostility against the patriots. It was recollected, in particular, that one of 
 them liad, in the affair of Bertrand de Molleville and Carra, the journalist, 
 dared to summon two deputies. The justices of the peace were therefore 
 removed, and such of their functions as related to the police were transferred 
 lo the municipal authorities. In unison, in this instance, with the commune 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 339 
 
 of Paris, the Assembly decreed that the police, called the police of genera* 
 safety^ should be assigned to the departments, districts, and municipalities 
 It consisted in inquiring into all misdemeanors threatening the internal and 
 external welfare of the state, in making a list of the citizens suspected for 
 their opinions or their conduct, in apprehending them for a time, and in even 
 dispersing and disarming them, if it were necessary. It was the councils ot 
 the municipalities that performed these duties ; and the entire mass of the 
 citizens was dius called upon to watch, to denounce, and to secure, the hos- 
 tile party. It is easy to conceive how active, but rigorous and arbitrary, 
 this police, democratically exercised, must have been. The entire council 
 received the denunciation, and a committee oi surveillance examined it, and 
 caused die accused to be apprehended. The national guards were in per- 
 manent requisition, and the municipalities of all towns containing more than 
 twenty thousand souls had power to add particular regulations to tliis law 
 of general safely. Assuredly the Legislative Assembly had no notion that 
 it was thus paving the way to the sanguinary executions which not long 
 afterwards took place; but, surrounded by enemies at home and abroad, it 
 called upon all the citizens to watch them, as it had called upon them all to 
 attend to the civil administration, and to fight. 
 
 The commune of Paris eagerly availed itself of these new powers, and 
 caused many persons to be apprehended. Here we see the conquerors, still 
 exasperated by the dangers of the preceding day and the still greater dangers 
 of die morrow, seizing their enemies, now cast down, but soon likely to rise 
 again by the aid of foreigners. The committee o( sitrveillance of the com- 
 mune of Paris was composed of the most violent men. Marat, who in the 
 Revolution had made such audacious attacks on persons, was at the head of 
 this committee ; and in such an office, he of all men was most to be dreaded. 
 
 Besides tliis principal committee, the commune of Paris instituted a par- 
 ticular one in each section. It ordered that passports should not be delivered 
 till after the deliberation of the assemblies of sections ; that travellers should 
 be accompanied, either to the municipality or to the gates of Paris, by two 
 witnesses, who should attest the identity of the person who had obtained the 
 passport with him who made use of it for the purpose of departing. It thus 
 strove, by all possible means, to prevent the escape of suspected persons 
 under fictitious names. It then directed a list of the enemies of the Revolu- 
 tion to be made, and enjoined the citizens, in a proclamation, to denounce 
 all who had shared in the guilt of the 10th of August. It ordered those 
 writers who had supported the royal cause to be apprehended, and gave 
 their presses to patriotic writers. Marat triumphantly obtained the rcstmi- 
 tion of four presses, which, he said, had been taken from him by order of 
 the traitor Lafayette. Commissioners went to the prisons to release those 
 who were confined for shouts or language hostile to the court. Lastly, the 
 commune, always ready to interfere in everything, sent deputies, after the 
 example of the Assembly, to enlighten and to convert the army of Lafayette, 
 which excited some uneasiness. 
 
 To the commune was assigned moreover a last and not least important 
 duty — the custody of {he royal family. The Assembly had at first ordered 
 its removal to the Luxembourg, but, upon the observation that this pala» e 
 was didlcult to guard, it had preferred the hotel of the ministry of justice. 
 But the commune, which had already in its hands the police of the capital, 
 and which considered itself as particularly charged with the custody of the 
 King, proposed the Temple, and declared that it could not answer for his 
 6afe custody, unless the tower of that ancient abbey were selected ^r his 
 
340 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 dwelling. The Assembly assented, and committed the custody of the illus- 
 trious prisoners to the mayor and Santerre, the commandant-general, upon 
 their personal responsibility. Twelve commissioners of the general council 
 were to keep watch, without interruption, at the Temple. It had been con- 
 verted by outworks into a kind of fortress. Numerous detachments of the 
 national guard alternately formed the garrison, and no person was allowed 
 to enter without permission from the municipality. The Assembly had 
 decreed that live hundred thousand francs should be taken from the treasury 
 for the maintenance of the royal family till the approaching meeting of the 
 National Convention. 
 
 The functions of the commune were, as we see, very extensive. Placed 
 in the centre of the state where the great powers are exercised, and impelled 
 by its energy to do of its own accord whatever seemed to it to be too gently 
 done by the high authorities, it was hurried into incessant encroachments. 
 The Assembly, convinced of the necessity of keeping it within certain limits, 
 ordered the re-election of a new departmental council, to succeed that which 
 had been dissolved on the day of the insurrection. The commune, perceiv- 
 ing that it was threatened with the yoke of a superior authority, which would 
 probably restrain its flights, as the former department had done, was incensed 
 at this decree, and ordered the sections to suspend the election which had 
 already commenced. Manuel, the procureur syndic^ was immediately de- 
 spatched from the Hotel de Ville to the Feuillans, to present the remon- 
 strances of the municipality. " The delegates of the citizens of Paris," said 
 he, " have need of unlimited powers. A new authority placed between them 
 and you would only serve to sow the seeds of dissension. It is requisite 
 that the people, in order to deliver themselves from tliat power destructive 
 to their sovereignty, should once more arm themselves with their ven- 
 geance." 
 
 Such was the menacing language which men already had the hardihood 
 to address to the Assembly. The latter complied with the demand; and, 
 whether it believed it to be impossible or imprudent to resist, or that it con- 
 sidered it to be dangerous to fetter at that moment llie energy of the com- 
 mune, it decided that the new council should have no authority over the 
 municipality, and be nothing more than a commission of finance, charged 
 with the superintendence of the public contributions in the department of 
 the Seine. 
 
 Another more serious question engaged the public mind, and served to 
 demonstrate more forcibly the difference of sentiment prevailing between 
 the commune and the Assembly. The punishment of those who had fired 
 upon the people, and who were ready to show themselves as soon as the 
 enemy should draw near, was loudly demanded. They were called by 
 turns "the conspirators of the 10th of August," and "the traitors." The 
 court-martial appointed on the 11th to try the Swiss did not appear suffi- 
 cient, because its powers were limited to the prosecution of the Swiss 
 soldiers. The criminal tribunal of the Seine was thought to be fettered by 
 too slow formalities, and besides, all the authorities anterior to the 10th of 
 August were suspected. The commune therefore prayed the erection of a 
 tribunal which should be empowered to take cognizance of the crimes of the 
 \Oth of August, and have sufficient latitude to reach all who were called 
 the traitors. The Assembly referred the petition to the extraordinary com- 
 mission appointed in the month of July to propose the means of safety. 
 
 On the 14th, a fresh deputation of the commune was sent to the legislativb 
 body , to demand the decree relative to the extraordinary tribunal, declaring 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 341 
 
 that, as it was not yet passed, they were directed to wait for it. Gaston. 
 the deputy, addressed some severe observations to this deputation, which 
 withdrew. The Assembly persisted in refusing to create an extraordinary 
 tribunal, and merely assigned to the established tribunals the cognizance oj 
 tlie crlmci of the lOth of August. 
 
 At this intelligence, violent agitation spread through Paris. The section 
 of the Quinze-Vingts repaired to the general council of the commune, and 
 intimated that the tocsin would be rung in the fauxbourg St. Antoine, if the 
 decree applied for were not immediately passed. The general council then 
 sent a fresh deputation, at the head of which was Robespierre. He spoke 
 in the name of the municipality, and made the most insolent remonstrances 
 to the deputies. "The tranquillity of the people," said he, "depends on 
 the punishment of the guilty, and yet you have done nothing to reach them. 
 Your decree is insufhcient. It does not explain the nature and the extent 
 of the crimes to be punished, for it specifies only the crimes of the lOth of 
 August, and the crimes of the enemies of the Revolution extend far beyond 
 the 10th of August and Paris. With such an expression, the traitor La- 
 fayette would escape the vengeance of tlie law. As for the form of the 
 tribunal, the people can no longer tolerate that which you have retained. 
 The twofold degree of jurisdiction causes numberless delays, and, besides, 
 all the old authorities are suspected; new ones are required; it is necessary 
 that the tribunal demanded be composed of deputies taken from the sections, 
 and that it be empowered to try the guilty, sovereignly, and without appeal." 
 
 This imperative petition appeared still more harsh from the tone of Robes- 
 pierre. The Assembly answered the people of Paris in an address, in 
 which it rejected any proposal for an extraordinary commission and chamhre 
 ardenfe, as unworthy of liberty, and fit only for despotism. 
 
 These reasonable observations produced no effect. They served only to 
 increase the irritation. Nothing was talked of in Paris but the tocsin; and, 
 the very next day, a representative of the commune appeared at the bar, and 
 said to the Assembly, "As a citizen, as a magistrate of the people, I come 
 to inform you that at twelve o'clock this night the tocsin will be rung and 
 the alarm beaten. The people are weary of not being avenged. Beware 
 lest they do themselves justice. I demand," added the audacious petitioner, 
 "that you forthwith decree that a citizen be appointed by each section to 
 form a criminal tribunal." 
 
 This threatening apostrophe roused the Assembly, and particularly the 
 deputies Choudieu and Thuriot, who warmly reprimanded the envoy of the 
 commune. A discussion, however, ensued, and the proposal of the com- 
 mune, strongly supported by the hotheaded members of the Assembly, was 
 at leno-tli converted into a decree. An electoral body was to assemble, to 
 choose the members of an extraordinary tribunal, destined to take cognizance 
 of crimes committed on the 10th of August, and other crimes and circimi- 
 stances connected with it. This tribunal, divided into two sections, was 
 to pronounce sentence finally and without appeal. Such was the first essay 
 of the revolutionary tribunal, and the first spur given by vengeance to the 
 forms of justice. This tribunal was called the tribunal of the 17th of August. 
 
 The effect produced on the armies by the recent revolution, and the man- 
 ner in whicli tbey had received the decrees of the 10th, were still unknown. 
 This was the most important point, and the fate of the new revolution depended 
 upon it. The frontier was still divided into three armies, the army of the North, 
 the army of tlie centre, and the army of the South. Liickner commanded th« 
 first, Lafayette the second, and Montesquiou the third. Since the unfortu 
 
S42 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 nate aflairs at Mons and Tournay, Luckner, urged by Dumouriez, had again 
 attempted tlie offensive against the Netherlands, bat had retreated, and, in 
 evacuating Courtray, had burned the suburbs, which was made a serious 
 charge against the ministry the day before the dethronement. The armies 
 had since remained in a state of complete inactivity, living in intrenchea 
 camps, and confining themselves to slight skirmishes. Dumouriez, after 
 resigning the ministry, had gone as lieutenant-general under Luckner, and 
 been unfavourably received by the army, where the spirit of Lafayette's 
 party predominated. Luckner, wholly under this influence for a moment, 
 sent Dumouriez to one of these camps, that of Maulde, and there left him, 
 with a small number of troops, to amuse himself with intrenchments and 
 skirmishes. 
 
 Lafayette, wishing, amidst the dangers that encompassed the King, to be 
 nearer to Paris, had been desirous of taking the command of the North. He 
 was, nevertheless, unwilling to quit his troops, by whom he was greatly 
 beloved, and he agreed with Luckner to change positions, each with his 
 division, and to decamp, the one for the North, the other for the centre. 
 This operation, in the presence of an enemy, might have been attended with 
 danger, if, very luckily, the war had not been so completely inactive. Luck- 
 ner had therefore repaired to Metz, and Lafayette to Sedan. During this 
 cross-movement, Dumouriez, Avho was directed to follow with his little corps 
 the army of Luckner, to which he belonged, halted suddenly in presence of 
 the enemy, who had threatened to attack him ; and he was obliged to remain 
 in his camp, lest he should lay open the entry to Flanders to the Duke of 
 Saxe-Teschen. He assembled the other generals who occupied separate 
 camps near him ; he concerted with Dillon, =" who came up with a portion 
 of Lafayette's army, and insisted on a council of war at Valenciennes, foi 
 the purpose of justifying, by the necessity of the case, his disobedience to 
 Luckner. Meanwhile Luckner had arrived at Metz, and Lafayette at 
 Sedan; and, but for the events of the 10th of August, Dumouriez would 
 probably have been put under arrest, and brought to a military trial for his 
 refusal to advance. 
 
 Such was the situation of the armies when they received tidings of the 
 overthrow of the throne. The first point to which the Legislative Assembly 
 turned its attention was, as we have seen, to send three commissioners to 
 carry its decrees and to make the troops take the new oath. The three 
 commissioners, on their arrival at Sedan, Avere received by the municipality, 
 which had orders from Lafayette to cause them to be apprehended. The 
 mayor questioned them concerning the scene of the 10th of August, required 
 an account of all the circumstances, and declared, agreeably to the secret 
 instructions which he had received from Lafayette, that evidently the Legis- 
 lative Assembly was no longer free when it decreed the suspension of the 
 King; that its commissioners were but the envoys of a factious cabal; and 
 that they should be put into conftnement iji the name of the constitution. 
 They were actually imprisoned, and Lafayette, to exonerate those who exe- 
 cuted his order, took upon himself the sole responsibility. Immediately 
 afterwards, he caused his army to take anew the oath of fidelity to the law 
 and to the King ; and ordered the same to be done by all the corps under 
 
 * " The Count Arthur de Dillon, a general officer in tLe French service, v?as deputed from 
 Martinique to the States-general, and embraced the revolutionary party. In 1792 he took 
 one of the chief commands in the army of the North. In the year 1794 he was condemned 
 to death by the revolutionary tribunal as a conspirator. He was forty-three years old, and 
 was born at Berwick in England." — Biographis Moderne. E 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 343 
 
 his conimand. He reckoned upon seventy-five departments, wliich had 
 adhered to his letter of the IGth of June, and he purposed to attempt a con« 
 trary movemen. to that of the 10th of Ausust. Dillon, who was at Valen- 
 ciennes, under ilie orders of Lafayette, and who held a superior command 
 to Dumouricz, obeyed his general-in-chief, caused the oath of lidelily to the 
 law and to tlie King to be taken, and enjoined Dumouriez to do the same in 
 his camp at Maulde. Dumouriez, judging more correctly of the future, and 
 exasperated moreover against the Feuillans, under wliose control he was, 
 seized the occasion to resist them, and to ingratiate himself with the new 
 government, by refusing either to take the oath himself, or to allow it to be 
 taken liy his troops. 
 
 On the 17th, the very day on which the new tribunal was so simultane- 
 ously established, a letter arrived, stating that the commissioners sent to the 
 army of Lafayette had been apprehended by his orders, and tluU the legisla- 
 tive authority was denied. This intelligence produced more irritation than 
 alarm. The outcry against Lafayette Avas more vehement than ever. His 
 accusation was demanded, and the Assembly Avas reproached with not hav- 
 ing ordered it before. A decree was instantly passed against tlie department 
 of the Ardennes ; fresh commissioners were despatched with the same 
 powers as tbeir predecessors, and with directions to cause the tlu'ee prisoners 
 to be liberated. Other commissioners were sent to Dillon's army. On the 
 morning of the 19th, the Assembly declared Lafayette a traitor to the coun- 
 try, and passed a decree of accusation against him. 
 
 The circumstance was serious, and if this resistance were not overcome, 
 the new revolution would prove abortive. France, divided between the re- 
 publicans in the interior and the constitutionalists of the army, would be 
 exposed to invasion and to a terrible reaction. Lafayette could not but 
 detect in the revolution of the lOtli of August the abolition of the constitution 
 of 1791, the accomplishment of all his aristocratic prophecies, and the justi- 
 fication of all the reproaches Avhich the court addressed to liberty. In 
 this victory of democracy he must have beheld nothing but a sanguinary 
 anarchy and an endless confusion. For us this confusion has had an 
 end, and our soil at least has been defended against foreigners ; but to 
 Lafayette the future was unknoAvn and alarming; the defence of the soil 
 was scarcely to be presumed amidst political convulsions ; and he could 
 not but feel a desire to Avithstand this chaos, by arming himself against the 
 two foes Avitliin and without. But his position Avas beset Avith dilliculties, 
 which it would have been beyond the power of any man to surmount. His 
 army Avas devoted to him, but armies have no personal Avill, and cannot 
 have any but Avhat is communicated to them by the superior authority. 
 When a revolution bursts forth Avitli the violence of that of 1789, then hur- 
 ried blindly on, they desert the old authority, because the ncAv impulse is 
 the stronger of the tAVO. But this Avas not the case in this instance. La- 
 fayette, proscribed, stricken by a decree, could not, by his mere military 
 popularity, excite his troops against the authority of the interior, and by his 
 personal energy counteract the revolutionary energy of Paris. Placed be 
 Aveen two enemies, and uncertain respecting his duty, he could not but hesitate 
 The Assembly, on the contrary, not hesitating, sendino;- decree after decree 
 and supporting each by energetic commissioners, could not fail to triumph 
 OA^er the hesitation of the general, and to decide the army. Accordingly, 
 the troops of Lafayette Avere successively shaken, and appeared to be forsak 
 ing him. The civil authorities, being intimidated, yielded to the new com- 
 oiissioners. The examole of Duniouriez, who declared himself in favoui 
 
^"^^ HISTORY OF THE 
 
 of the re\olution of the 10th of August, completed the defection; and thfl 
 opposing general was left alone with his staff, composed of Feuillans or 
 constitutional officers. 
 
 Bouille, whose energy was not doubtful, Dumouriez, whose great talents 
 could not be disputed, could not do otherwise at different periods, and were 
 obliged to betake themselves to flight. Lafayette was destined to be equally 
 unfortunate. Writing to the different civil authorities which had seconded 
 him in his resistance, he took upon himself the responsibility of the orders 
 issued against the commissioners of the Assembly, and left his camp on the 
 20th of August, with a few officers, his friends and his companions in arms 
 and in opinion. He was accompanied by Bureau de Puzy, Latour-Mau- 
 bourg, and Lameth. They quitted the camp, taking with them only a 
 month's pay, and were followed by a few servants. Lafayette left every- 
 thing in order in his army, and had taken care to make the necessary dispo- 
 sitions in case of attack. He sent back some horse who attended him, that 
 he might not rob France of one of her defenders ; and, on the 21st, he and 
 his friends took the road to the Netherlands. On reaching the Austrian ad- 
 vanced posts, after a journey which exhausted their horses, these first 
 emigrants of liberty were arrested, contrary to the right of nations, and 
 treated as prisoners of war. Great was the joy when the name of Lafayette 
 rang in the camp of the allies, and it was known that he was a captive to 
 the aristocra'ac league. To torment one of the first friends of the Revolu- 
 tion, to have a pretext for imputing to the Revolution itself the persecution 
 of its first authors, and to behold the fulfilment of all its predicted excesses, 
 diffused general satisfaction among the European aristocracy.* 
 
 Lafayette claimed for himself and his friends that liberty which was then 
 right, but to no purpose. He was offered it on condition of recanting, not 
 all his opinions, but only one of them — that relative to the abolition of 
 nobility. He refused, threatening even in case his words should be falsely 
 interpreted to give a formal contradiction before a public officer. He there- 
 fore accepted fetters as the price of his constancy ; and, even when he looked 
 upon liberty as lost in Europe and in France, his mind continued unshaken, 
 and he never ceased to consider freedom as the most valuable of blessings. 
 This he still professed, both towards the oppressors who detained him in 
 their dungeons, and towards his old friends who remained in France.! 
 
 • "Lafayette was under the necessity of observing the greatest secrecy in his departure, in 
 order to avoid increasing the number of his companions in exile, who consisted only of La- 
 tOur-Maubourg and his two brothers, Bureaux de Puzy, his aides-de-camp, and staff officers 
 in the Parisian national guard, and some friends, exposed to certain death in consequence 
 of their participation in his last elforts against anarchy. Fifteen officers of different ranks 
 accompanied him. On arriving at fochefort, where the party (considerably reduced in num- 
 ber) were stopped, Bureaux de Puzy was compelled to go forward and obtain a pass from 
 General Moitelle, in command at Namur. He set out accordingly, but, before he could utter 
 a syllable of explanation, that general exclaimed, 'What, Lafayette 1 Lafayette? — Run 
 instantly and inform the Duke of Bourbon of it — Lafayette 1 — Set out this moment,' address- 
 ing one of his officers, 'and carry this news to his royal highness at Brussels; and on he 
 went, muttering to himself the word ' Lafayette.' It was not until he had given orders to 
 write to all the princes and generals he could think of, that Puzy could put in his request fo' 
 a pass, which was of course refused." — Lafayette^ s Memoirs. E. 
 
 + "However irritated they might be by Lafayette's behaviour at the outset of the Revo- 
 lution, the present conduct of the monarchs towards him was neither to be vindicated by 
 morality, the law of nations, nor the rules of sound policy. Even if he had been amenable 
 for a crime against his own country, we know not what right Austria or Prussia had to take 
 cognizance of it. To them he was a mere prisoner of war, and nothing further. It is very 
 B^'ldom that a petty, vindictive line of policy, accords with the real interest, either of grea» 
 ))tinces or of private individuals." Scolt's Life of Napoleon. ♦E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 345 
 
 "Continue," he wrote to the latter, "continue to love liberty, m spite of ita 
 etorms, and serve your country." Let us compare this defection with tliat 
 of Boiiille, quitting his country to return with the hostile sovereigns ; with 
 that of Duniouriez, quarrelling, not from conviction but from spite, witli the 
 Convention whom he had served; and we shall do justice to the man who 
 did not leave France till the truth in which he believed was proscribed there, 
 and wlio went neither to curse nor to disavow it in the enemy's armies, but 
 still continued to profess and maintain it in dungeons. 
 
 Let us not, however, cast too severe censure on Dumouriez, Avhose memo- 
 rable services we shall soon have occasion to appreciate. This tlexible and 
 clever man had a just presentiment of the nascent power. After he had made 
 himself almost independent by his refusal to obey Lnckner, and to leave his 
 camp at Mnuldc, after he had refused to take the oath ordered by Dillon, he 
 was immediately recompensed for his attachment by the chief command of 
 the armies of the North and tlie centre. Dillon, brave, impetuous, but 
 blind, was at first displaced for liaving obeyed Lafayette; but he was rein- 
 stated ill his couimand througli tlie inlluence of Dumouriez, who, anxious to 
 reach his goal, and to injure as few persons as possible in his progress, be- 
 came his warm advocate with the commissioners of the Assembly. Dumou- 
 riez, ilicrefore, found himself general-in-chief of the Avliole frontier from 
 Metz to Dunkirk. Luckncr was at IMotz, with his army, formerly the army 
 of the North. Swayed at lirst by Lafavctte, he had sliown resistance to the 
 lOlh of August; but, soon giving way to his army and to the commissioners 
 of the Assembly, he acquiesced in the decrees, and after once more weeping, 
 he yielded to tlie new impulse that was communicated to him. 
 
 The 10th of August and the advance of the season were motives sufficient 
 to decide the coalition at lengtli to pusli tlie war with vigour. The disposi- 
 tions of the powers in regard to France were not changed. England, Hol- 
 land, Denmark, and Switzerland, still promised a strict neutrality. Sweden, 
 since the death of Gustavus, had sincerely adopted a similar course. The 
 Italian principalities were most inimical to us, but fortunately quite impotent. 
 Spain had not yet spoken out, but continued to be distracted by conllicting 
 intrigues. Thus there were left, as decided enemies, Russia and the two 
 principal courts of Germany. But Russia as yet went no further than un- 
 friendly demonstrations, and confined herself to sending away our ambassa- 
 dor. Prussia and Austria alone carried their arms to our frontiers. Among 
 the German slates there were but the three ecclesiastical electors, and the 
 landgraves of the two Hesscs, that had taken an active part in the coalition. 
 The others waited till they should be compelled to do so. In this state of 
 things, one hundred and "thirty-eight tliousand men, excellently organized 
 and disciplined, threatened France, which could oppose to them at the 
 utmost but oue hundred and twenty thousand, spread over an immense 
 frontier, not forming a sufficient mass at any point, deprived of their officers 
 feeling no confidence in themselves or their leaders, and having as yet 
 experienced nothing but checks in the war of posts which they had 
 maintained. 
 
 The plan of the coalition was to invade France boldly, penetrating by the 
 Ardennes, and proceeding by Chalons towards Paris. The two sovereigns 
 of Prussia and Austria had repaired in person to Mayence. Sixty thousand 
 Prussians, heirs to the traditions and the glory of the great Frederick, ad 
 vanced in a single column upor. our centre. They marched by Luxembourg 
 upon Longwy. Twenty thousand Austrians, commanded by General Clair 
 fayt, supported them on the right by occupying Stenay. Sixteen thousand 
 
 VOL. I. — 44 
 
^"^^ HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Austrians, commanded by the Prince of Hohenlohe-Kirchberg. and tea 
 housand Hessians, flanked the left of the Prussians. The Duke of Saxe. 
 Peschen occupied the Netherlands and threatened the fortresses. The Prince 
 of Conde, with six thousand French emigrants, had proceeded towards 
 Philipsbourg. Several other corps of emigrants were attached to the different 
 Prussian and Austrian armies. The foreign courts which, in collecting the 
 emigrants, were still desirous to prevent their acquiring too much influence, 
 had at first intended to blend them Avith the German regiments, but had at 
 length consented to suffer them to form distinct corps, yet distributed amonw 
 tlie allied armies. These corps were full of officers who had condescended 
 to become privates, and they formed a brilliant body of cavalry, which, how- 
 ever, was more capable of displaying great valour on the day of peril, than 
 of supporting a long campaign. 
 
 The French armies were disposed in the most unsuitable manner for 
 withstanding such a mass of forces. Three generals, Beurnonville, Moreton, 
 and Duval, commanded a total of thirty thousand men in three separate 
 camps, Maulde, Maubeuge, and Lille. These were the whole of the French 
 resources on the frontier of the North and of the Low Countries. Lafay- 
 ette's army, twenty-three thousand strong, disorganized by the departure of 
 its general, and weakened by the utmost uncertainty of sentiment, was en- 
 camped at Sedan. Dumouriez was going to take the command of it. 
 Luckner's army, composed of twenty thousand men, occupied Metz, and, 
 like all the others, had just had a new general given to it, namely, Keller- 
 mann. ■'■ The Assembly, dissatisfied with Luckner, had nevertheless resolved 
 not to dismiss him ; but whilst transferring his command to Kellermann, it 
 had assigned to him, with the tide of generalissimo, the duty of organizing 
 the new army of reserve, and the purely honorary function of counselling the 
 generals. There remain to be mentioned Custine, who with fifteen thousand 
 men occupied Landau, and lastly, Biron, who, posted in Alsace with thirty 
 thousand men, was too far from the principal theatre of the war, to influence 
 the issue of the campaign. 
 
 The only two corps placed on the track pursued by the grand army of the 
 allies, were the twenty-three thousand men forsaken by Lafayette, and Kel- 
 lermaiin's twenty thousand stationed around Metz. If the grand invading 
 army, conforming its raovemetits to its object, had marched rapidly upon 
 Sedan, while the troops of Lafayette, deprived of their general, were a prey 
 to disorder, and, not having yet been joined by Dumouriez, were without 
 unity and without direction, the principal defensive corps would have been 
 overwhelmed, the Ardennes would have been opened, and the other generals 
 would have been obliged to fall back rapidly for the purpose of concentrafing 
 themselves behind tlie Marne. Perhaps they would not have had time to 
 come from Lille and Metz to Chalons and Rheims. Li this case Paris 
 would have been uncovered, and the new government would have had 
 nothing left but the absurd scheme of a camp below Paris, or flight beyond 
 the Loire. 
 
 But if France defended herself with all the disorder of a revolution, the 
 
 * " Kellermann, a French general, began life as a private hussar, but was soon promoted 
 for his skill and good conduct. In 1793 he obtained the command of the army of the Moselle, 
 and distinguished himself at the battle of Valmy. In 1794 he was brought before the revolu- 
 tionary trit)unal, but acquitted. In 1799 he became a member of the consular senate ; in 1802 
 he obtained the title of grand officer of the Legion of Honour ; and, soon afterwards, was 
 '■aised to the rank of marshal of the empire. He was father of the celebrated Kellermann 
 "vhose glorious charge decided the battle of Marengo " — Biographic Moderne. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 347 
 
 foreign powers attacked with all the uncertainty and discordance of views 
 that characterize a coalition. The King of Prussia, intoxicated Avith the 
 idea of an easy conquest, flattered and deceived by the emigrants, who ri;pre- 
 sentcd the invasion to him as a mere military promenade, wished it to be 
 conducted wdth the boldest expedition. But there was still too mucli pru- 
 dence at his side, in the Duke of Brunswick, to allow his presumption to 
 have at least the happy effect of audacity and promptness. The Duke of 
 Brunswick, who saw that the season was far advanced, the country very 
 dilTcrcntly disposed from what the emigrants had represented, who, more- 
 over, judged of the revolutionary energy by the insurrection of the 10th of 
 August, thought that it would be better to secure a solid base of operations 
 on the Moselle, by laying siege to Metz and Thionville, and deferring till 
 the next spring tlic recommencement of the war with the advantage of the 
 preceding conquests. This struggle betw^een the precipitancy of the sovc- 
 '"cign and the prudence of tlie general, and the tardiness of the Austrians, 
 who sent under the command of Prince Hohenlohe but eighteen thousand 
 men instead of fifty, prevented any decisive movement. The Prussian army, 
 however, continued to march towards the centre, and was, on the 20th, be- 
 fore Longwy, one of the most advanced fortresses of that frontier. 
 
 Dumouriez, who had always been of opinion that an invasion of the 
 Netherlands would cause a jrevolution to break out there, and that this diver- 
 sion would save France from the attacks of Germany, had made every pre- 
 paration for advancing ever since the day on wdiich he received his commission 
 as gcnL'ral-in-chief of the iwo armies. He was already on tlie point of taking 
 the otTcnsive against the Prince of Saxe-Teschen, w^hen AVestermann, who 
 had been so active on the 10th of August, and was afterwards sent as com- 
 missioner to the army of Lafayette, came to inform him of what was passing 
 on the theatre of the great invasion. On the 22d, Longwy had opened its 
 gates to the Prussians, after a bombardment of a few hours, in consequence 
 of the disorder of tlie garrison and tlie weakness of the commandant. Elated 
 with this conquest, and the capture of Lafayette, the Prussians were more 
 favouralily disposed than ever towards the plan of a prompt oflensive. The 
 army of Lafayette would be undone if the new general did not go to inspire 
 it with confidence by his presence, and to direct its movements in a useful 
 manner. 
 
 Dumouriez, therefore, relinquislicd his favourite plan, and repaired on the 
 25th, or 26th, to Sedan, where his presence at first excited nothing but ani- 
 mosity and reproaches among the troops. He was the enemy of Lafayette, 
 who w^as still beloved by them. He was, moreover, supposed to be the 
 author of that unhappy war, because it had been declared during his adminis- 
 tration. Lastly, he w^as considered as a man possessing much gi'eater skill 
 in the use of the pen than of the sword. This language was in the mouths 
 of all the soldiers, and frequently reached the ear of the general. He w-as 
 not disconcerted by it. He began by cheering the troops, by affecting a firm 
 and tranquil countenance, and soon made them aw^are of the influence of a 
 more vigorous command.- Still the situation of twenty-three thousand 
 disorganized men, in presence of eighty thousand in a state of the highest 
 discipline, was most discouraging. The Prussians, after taking Longwy, 
 
 • " Dumouriez, who up to this time had played but a subordinate military part, very much 
 surpassed any expectation that could have been formed of him. He displayed a grea.* deal of 
 taknt and enlarged views; and for some little time his patriotism was estimated bv his buo 
 cess." — Lafayette's Memoirs. E 
 
348 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 had blockaded Thionville, and were advancing upon Verdun, which was 
 much less capable of resistance than the fortress of Longwy. 
 
 The generals, called together by Dumouriez, were all of opinion that they 
 ought not to wait for the Prussians at Sedan, but to retire rapidly behind the 
 Marne, to intrench themselves there in the best manner possible, to wait foi 
 the junction of the other armies, and thus cover the capital, which would be 
 but forty leagues distant from the enemy. They all thought that, if they 
 should suffer a defeat in attempting to resist the invasion, the overthrow 
 would be complete, that the discomfited army Avould not stop between Sedan 
 and Paris, and that the Prussians would march directly thither at a conque- 
 ror's pace. Such was our military situation, and the opinion which our 
 generals entertained of it. 
 
 Tiie notions formed at Paris on the subject were not more favourable, and 
 the irritation increased with the danger. Meanv/hile that immense capital 
 which had never seen an enemy in its bosom, and which formed an idea of 
 its strength proportionate to its extent and population, 'could scarcely con- 
 ceive it possible for a foe to penetrate within its walls. It had much less 
 dread of the military peril, which it did not perceive, and which was still at 
 a distance from it, than the peril of a reaction on the part of the royalists, 
 who \vp,re quelled for the moment. Whilst on the frontiers the generals saw 
 nothing but the Prussians ; in the interior, people saw nothing but the aris- 
 tocrats secretly conspiring to destroy liberty. They said that, to be sure, 
 the King Avas a prisoner, but his party nevertheless existed, and that it was 
 conspiring, as before the 10th of August, to open Paris to the foreigners. 
 They figured to themselves all the great houses in the capital filled with 
 armed assemblages, ready to sally forth at the first signal, to deliver Louis 
 XVI., to seize the chief authority, and to consign France, without defence, 
 to the sword of the emigrants and of the allies. This correspondence be- 
 tween the infernal and the external enemy, engrossed all minds. It behoves 
 us, it was said, to rid ourselves of traitors ^ and already the horrible idea of 
 sacrificing the vanquished was conceived — an idea which, with the majority, 
 was only a movement of imagination, but which, by some few only, either 
 more bloodthirsty, more hotheaded, or more powerfully impelled to action, 
 could be converted into a real and meditated plan. 
 
 We have already seen that it was proposed to avenge the people for the 
 blows inflicted upon them on the 10th, and that a violent quarrel had arisen 
 between the Assembly and the commune, on the subject of the extraordinary 
 tribunal. This tribunal, to which Dangremont and the unfortunate Laporte, 
 intendant of the civil list, had already fallen victims, did not act with suffi 
 cient despatch according to the notions of a furious and heated populace, 
 who beheld enemies on every side. It demanded forms more expeditious 
 for punishing traitors, and, above all, it insisted on the trial of the persons 
 transferred to the high court at Orleans. These were, for the most part, 
 ministers and high functionaries, accused, as we have seen, of malversation. 
 Delessart, minister for foreign affairs, was among the number. Outcries 
 were raised on all sides against the tardiness of the proceedings ; the removal 
 of the prisoners to Paris, and their immediate trial by the tribunal of the 
 17th of August, were required. The Assembly, being consulted on this 
 point, or rather summoned to comply with the general v*'ish, and to pass a 
 decree for the transfer, had made a courao-eous resistance. The hiffli national 
 court was, it alleged, a constitutional establishment, which it could not 
 rliange, because it did not possess the constituent powers, and because it 
 
 as the right of every accused person to be ^-ried only according to anterior 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 349 
 
 laws. This question had been raised afresh by hosts of petitioners ; and 
 the Assembly had at once to resist an ardent minority, tlie commune, and 
 the tumultuous sections. It had merely accelerated some of the formaliiiea 
 of the proceedings, but decreed that the persons accused before the hi<Th 
 court should remain at Orleans, and not be withdrawn from the jurisdiction 
 which the constitution had insured to them. 
 
 Thus, then, two opinions were formed : one which lield that it was right 
 to spare the vanquished without exerting less energy against foreigners ; the 
 other, which insisted that aJl secret enemies ought to be sacriticed, before 
 people went to meet the armed enemies who were advancing towards Paris. 
 This latter was not so much an opinion as a blind and ferocious sentiment, 
 compounded of fear and rage, and which was destined to increase with the 
 danger. 
 
 The Parisians were the more irritated the greater Avas the peril for their 
 city — the focus of all the insurrections, and the principal goal to which the 
 march of the hostile armies tended. They accused the Assembly, composed 
 of deputies of the departments, of an intention to retire to the provinces. 
 The Girondins, in particular, who chiefly belonged to the provinces of the 
 South, and formed that moderate majority wliich was odious to the com- 
 mune, were accused of a wish to sacrifice the capital, out of hatred to it. 
 In this instance a sentiment was attributed to them which they would have 
 been justified in harbouring. But the greater number of them loved their 
 country and their cause too sincerely to think of leaving Paris. They had, 
 it is true, always been of opinion that, if the North were lost, they could 
 fall back upon the South ; and, at this very moment, some of them deemed 
 it prudent to remove the seat of government to the other side of the Loire ; but 
 no such desire as to sacrifice a hated city and to transfer the government to 
 places where they would be its masters, ever entered their hearts. They 
 were too high-minded, they were moreover still too powerful, and they 
 reckoned too much on the meeting of the approaching Convention, to think 
 so soon of forsaking Paris. 
 
 Thus they were charged at once with indulgence towards traitors and with 
 indifference to the interests of the capital. Having to contend with the most 
 violent men, they could do no other, even though they had numbers and 
 reason on their side, than succumb to the activity and the energy of their 
 adversaries. In the executive council they were five to one, for, besides the 
 tl^ree ministers, Servan, Clavieres, and Roland, selected from among theia, 
 the last two, Monge and Lebrun, were likewise of their choice. But Dan- 
 ton, who, without being their personal enemy, had neither their moderation 
 nor their opinions — Danton"' singly, swayed the council and deprived them 
 of all influence. While Clavieres was striving to collect some financial re- 
 sources, Servan bestirring himself to procure reinforcements for the generals, 
 and Roland despatching the most discreet circulars to enlighten the pro- 
 vinces, to direct the local authorities, to prevent their encroachments on 
 power, and to check violence of every kind, Danton was busily engaged in 
 placing all his creatures in the administration. He sent his faithful Corde- 
 liers to all parts, and thus attached to himself numerous supporters, and pro- 
 
 • "Roland and Clavieres farmed a sort of party in the council, and were supported oy 
 llrissot and the Bordeaux members in the Assembly, and by Petion and Manuel in the mu 
 nicipality. Servan, Monge, and Lebrun, dared not have an opinion of their own. But (hf 
 man among them who struck the greatest terror — the man who, with a frown or a sin^I 
 glance of his scowling eye, made all his colleagues tremble — was Danton, minister m U 
 .aw department. Terror was the weapon he employed." — Peltier. E. 
 
350 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 cured for his friends a share in the profits of the Revolution. Influencing 
 or alarming his colleagues, he found ao obstacle but in the inflexible princi- 
 ples of Roland, who frequently refused assent to the measures or subjects 
 which he proposed. Danton was vexed at this, though he did not break 
 with Roland, and he strove to carry as many appointments or decisions as 
 he possibly could. 
 
 Danton, whose real sway was in Paris, was anxious to retain it, and fully 
 deiermined to prevent any removal beyond the Loire. Endued with extra- 
 ordinary boldness, having proclaimed the insurrection on the night preceding 
 ihe 10th of August, when every one else still hesitated, he was not a man to 
 recede, and he thought that it behoved him and his colleagues to sacrifice 
 themselves in the capital. Master of the council, connected with Marat 
 and the committee of surveillance of the commune, haranguing in all the 
 clubs, living, in short, amidst the mob, as in an element which he agitated 
 at pleasure, Danton was the most powerful man in Paris ; and that power, 
 founded on a violent disposition, which brought him in contact with the pas- 
 sions of the people, could not but be formidable to the vanquished. In his 
 revolutionary ardour, Danton inclined to all the ideas of vengeance which 
 the Girondins repelled. He was the leader of that Parisian party which 
 said of itself, " We will not recede. We will perish in the capital and be- 
 neath its ruins, but our enemies shall perish beibre us." Thus were hor- 
 rible sentiments engendered in minds, and horrible scenes were soon to be 
 their frightful consequences. 
 
 On the 26th, the tidings of the capture of Longwy spread with rapidity 
 and caused a general agitation in Paris. People disputed all day on its pro- 
 babiUty ; at length it could be no longer contested, and it became known that 
 the place had opened its gates after a bombardment of a few hours. The 
 ferment excited was such that the Assembly decreed the penalty of death 
 against any one who should propose to surrender in a besieged place. On 
 the demand of the commune, it was decreed that Paris and the neighbouring 
 departments should furnish, wdthin a few days, tliirty thousand men armed 
 and equipped. The prevailing enthusiasm rendered it easy to raise this 
 number, and the number served to dispel the apprehensions of danger. It 
 was impossible to suppose that one hundred thousand Prussians could sub- 
 due several millions of men who were determined to defend themselves. 
 The works at the camp near Paris were carried on with renewed activity, 
 and the women assembled in the churches to assist in preparing necessaries 
 for the encampment. 
 
 Danton repaired to the commune, and at his suggestion recourse was had 
 to extreme means. It was resolved to make a list of all the indigent per- 
 sons in the sections, and to give them pay and arms. It was moreover 
 determined to disarm and apprehend all suspicious persons ; and all who 
 had signed the petition against the 20th of June, and against the decree for 
 tlie camp below Paris, were reputed such. In order to effect this disarming 
 and apprehension, the plan of domiciliary visits was conceived and executed 
 in the most frightful manner.* Tlie barriers were to be closed for forty- 
 
 • "Let the reader fancy to himself a vast metropolis, the streets of which were a few days 
 *»tfore alive with the concourse of carriages, and with citizens constantly passing and repass- 
 ing — let him fancy to himself, I say, streets so populous and so animated, suddenly struck 
 with the dead silence of the grave, before sunsnt, on a fjne summer evening. All the shops 
 nr« shut; everybody retires into the interior of his house, trembling for life and property; all 
 are in fearful expectation of the events of a night in v.'hich even the efforts of despair are not 
 likely to alFoni the least resource to any individual. The sole object of the domiciliary visii>, 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 351 
 
 '^ight hours, from the evening of the 29th, and no pennission to lerive iho 
 city upon any account whatever -was to be granted. Guard-ships were sta- 
 tioned or. the river to prevent any escape by that outlet. The surrounding 
 communes were directed to stop every person they should find in the fields 
 or on tlie roads. The drum was to announce the visits, and at this signal 
 every person was required to repair to his home, upon pain of being treated 
 as one suspected of seditiously assembling, if found in the house of another. 
 For this reason, all the sectional assemblies, and the great tribunal itself, 
 were to suspend their meetings for those two days. Comm.issioners of the 
 commune, assisted by the armed force, v/ere empowered to pay these visits, 
 to seize arms, and to apprehend suspected persons, that is to say, the signers 
 of all the petitions already mentioned, the nonjuring priests, such citizens as 
 should be guilty of falsehood in their declarations, those against whom there 
 were denunciations, &c. At ten o'clock in the evening, the streets were to 
 be cleared of all carriages, and the city was to be illuminated during the 
 whole night. 
 
 Such were the measures adopted for the purpose of apprehending, it was 
 said, tJie bad citizens ivJio had concealed tJicmselves since the lOth of Au- 
 gust. These visits were begun on the evening of the 29th, and one party, 
 incurring the denunciation of another, was liable to be thrown into the pri- 
 sons. All who had belonged to the late court, either by office, or by rank, 
 or by attendance at the palace — all who had declared themselves in its favour 
 during tlie various royalist movements — all who had base enemies, capable 
 of revenging themselves by a denunciation, were consigned to the prisons, 
 to the number of twelve or fifteen thousand persons ! It was the committee 
 of surveillance of the commune which superintended these apprehensions, 
 and caused them to be executed before its eyes. Those who v/ere appre- 
 hended were first taken from their abode to tlie committee of their section, 
 and from this committee to that of the commune. There they were briefly 
 questioned respecting their sentiments and the acts which proved their 
 greater or less energy They were frequendy examined by a single member 
 of the committee, while the other members, exhausted with watching for 
 several successive days and nights, were sleeping upon the chairs or the 
 tables. The persons apprehended were at first carried to the Hotel de Ville, 
 aiKl afterwards distributed among the different prisons, in which any room 
 was left. Here were confined all the advocates of those various opinions 
 which had succeeded one another till the 10th of August, all the ranks which 
 
 it IS pretentled, is to search for arms, yet the barriers are shut and guarded with the strictest 
 vigilance, and boats are stationed on the river, at regular distances, filled with armed men. 
 Every one supposes himself to be informed against. Everywhere persons and property are 
 put into concealment. Everywhere are heard the interrupted sounds of the muffled hammer, 
 with cautious knock completing the hiding-place. Roofs, garrets, sinks, chimneys— -all are 
 just the same to fear, incapable of calculating any risk. One man, squeezed up behind the 
 wainscot which has been nailed back on him, seems to form a part of the wall ; another is 
 sufTocated with fear and heat between two mattresses; a third, rolled up in a cask, loses all 
 sense of existence by the tension of his sinews. Apprehension is stronger than pain. Men 
 tremble, but they do not shed tears; the heart shivers, the eye is dull, and the breast con- 
 tracted. Women, on this occasion, display prodigies of tenderness and intrepidity. It was 
 by them that most of the men were concealed. It was one o'clock in the mornmg when the 
 domiciliary vi.^its began. Patroles, consisting of sixty pikemen, were in every street. The 
 nocturnal tumult of so many armed men ; the incessant knocks to make people open their 
 doors; the crash of those that were burst off their hinges; and the continual uproar and 
 revelling which took place throughout the night in all the public-nouses, formed a picturo 
 which will never be cllaced from my memory." Feltier. E. 
 
352 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 had been overthrown, and plain tradesmen, wh? were already deemed as 
 great aristocrats as dukes and princes. 
 
 Terror pervaded all Paris. It prevailed alike among- the republicans 
 threatened by the Prussian armies, and among the royalists threatened by 
 the republicans. The committee of general defence, appointed by the As- 
 sembly to consider of the means of resisting the enemy, met on the 30th, 
 and solicited the attendance of the executive council for the purpose of de- 
 liberating with it on the means of the public welfare. The meeting was 
 numerous, because the members of the committee were joined by a multitude 
 of deputies who wished to be present at this sitting. Various plans were 
 suggested. Servan, the minister, had no confidence in the armies, and did 
 not think it possible for Dumouriez to stop the Prussians with the twenty- 
 three thousand men left him by Lafayette. He conceived that, between 
 them and Paris, there was no position of sufHcient strength to make head 
 against them and to check their march. All coincided with him on this 
 point, and, after it had been proposed that the whole population in arms 
 should be collected under the walls of Paris, in order to combat there with 
 desperation, it was suggested that the Assembly should retire, in case of 
 emergency, to Saumur, to place a wider space and fresh obstacles between 
 the enemy and the depositaries of the national sovereignty. Vergiiiaud 
 and Guadet opposed the idea of quitting Paris. They were followed by 
 Danton. 
 
 "It is proposed," said he, "that you should quit Paris. You are well 
 aware that, in the opinion of the enemy, Paris represents France, and that 
 to cede this point is to abandon the Revolution to them. If we give way 
 we are undone. Wc must, therefore, maintain our ground by all possible 
 means, and save ourselves by audacity. 
 
 "Among the means proposed none seems to me decisive. AVe must not 
 disguise from ourselves the situation in which we are placed by the 10th of 
 August. It has divided us into royalists and republicans. The former are 
 very numerous, the latter far from it. In this state of weakness, we repub- 
 licans are exposed to two fires — that of the enemy placed without, and that 
 of the royalists placed within. There is a royal directory, which holds 
 secret meetings at Paris, and corresponds with the Prussian army. To tell 
 you where it assembles, and of whom it is composed, is not in the power 
 of the ministers. But to disconcert it, and to prevent its baneful corres- 
 pondence with foreigners, we must — we must strike terror into tht 
 royalists.'''' 
 
 At these words, accompanied by a gesture betokening extermination, 
 horror overspread every face. 
 
 " I tell you," resumed Danton, "you must strike terror into the royalists. 
 . . It is in Paris above all that it behoves you to stand your ground, 
 and it is not by wasting yourselves in uncertain combats that you will suc- 
 ceed in doing so." A stupor instantly pervaded the Assembly. Not a 
 word more was added to this speech, and every one retired, witliout fore- 
 seeing precisely, without daring even to penetrate, the measures contemplated 
 by the minister. 
 
 He repaired immediately to the committee o( surveillance o^ the commune, 
 which disposed with sovereign authority of the persons of all the citizens, 
 and over which Marat reigned. The blind and ignorant colleagues of Marat 
 were Panis and Sergent, already conspicuous on the 20th of June and the 
 1 0th of August, and four others, named Jourdeuil, Duplain, Lefort, and 
 Lenfant. There, in the night between the 30th and the 31st of August, 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 353 
 
 horrihle plans were meditated against the unfortunate persons confined in the 
 prisons of Paris. Deplorable and dreadful instance of political excitement! 
 Danton, who was known never to harbour hatred against personal enemies, 
 and to be frequently accessible to pity, lent his audacity to the atrocious 
 reveries of Marat They two hatched a plot, of which several cenmriea 
 have furnished examples, but which, at the conclusion of the eigliteenth, 
 cannot be explained by the ignorance of the times and the ferocity of man- 
 ners. We have seen, three years before this, a man named Maillard'' figur- 
 ing at the head of the female insurgents on the famous days of the 5th and 
 6th of October. This Maillard, who had been usher to a court of justice, 
 an intelligent but bloodthirsty man, had formed a band of low desperadoes 
 fit for any enterprise ; such, in short, as are to be found in those classes 
 where education has not purified the passions by enlightening the under- 
 standing. He was known as the leader of this band, and, if we may credit 
 a recent revelation, he received notice to hold himself in readiness to act 
 upon the first signal, to place himself whore he could strike with effect 
 and certainty, to prepare bludgeons, to take precautions for preventing the 
 cries of the victims, to procure vinegar, holly brooms, quick lime, covered 
 carts, &;c. 
 
 From that moment vague rumours of a terrible execution were circulated. 
 The relatives of the prisoners were upon the rack, and the plot, like that of 
 the 10th of August, the 20th of June, and all the others, was foreshown by 
 portentous signs. On all sides it was repeated that it was requisite to over- 
 awe by a single example the conspirators, who, in the recesses of the prisons, 
 were corresponding with foreigners. People complained of the tardiness of 
 the tribunal instituted to punish the culprits of the 10th of August, and with 
 loud cries demanded speedy justice. On the 31st, Montmorin the late 
 minister, was acquitted by the tribunal of the 17th of August, and reports 
 were spread that there was treachery everywhere, and that impunity was 
 insured to tlie guilty. On the same day, it was alleged that a condemned 
 person had made some revelations, the purport of which was that in the night 
 the prisoners were to break out of the dungeons, to arm and disperse them- 
 selves through the city, to wreak horrible vengeance upon it, and then to 
 carry off the King, and throw open Paris to the Prussians. The prisoners 
 who were thus accused were meanwhile trembling for their lives; their rela- 
 tives were in deep consternation ; and the royal family expected nothing but 
 death in tlie tower of the Temple. 
 
 At the Jacobins, in the sections, in the council of the commune, in the 
 minority of the Assembly were great numbers of persons who believed these 
 pretended plots, and dared to declare it lawful to exterminate the prisoners. 
 Assuredly nature does not form so many monsters for a single day, and it is 
 party-spirit alone that leads astray so many men at once ! Sad lesson for 
 nations ! People believe in dangers ; they persuade themselves that they 
 ought to repel them ; they repeat this ; they work themselves up into a 
 frenzy; and, while some proclaim Avith levity that a blow must be struck, 
 others strike with sanguinary audacity. 
 
 • " MaillarJ, a runner belonging to the Chdtelet at Paris, began, from the opening of the 
 States-general, to signalize himself in all the tumults of the metropolis. In September, 1792, 
 he presided in the meeting at the Abbaye to regulate the massacre of the prisoners ; ind it 
 has been said that he seized on the spoils of those who were murdered by his order. He 
 afterwards became one of the denunciators of the prisons, and, during the Reign of Terror, 
 appeared several times at La Force, to mark the victims who were to be condemned by the 
 revolutionary tribunal." — Biographic Moderne. E. 
 
 VOL. I. — 45 
 
354 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 On Saturday, the 1st of September, the forty-eight hours fixed for the 
 closing of the barriers and the execution of the domiciliary visits having 
 elapsed, the communications were re-established. But, iil the course of the 
 day, all at once a rumour of the taking of Verdun was circulated, Verdun, 
 however, was only invested ; still it was believed that the place was cap- 
 tured, and that a fresh treachery had delivered it up like the fortress of 
 Longwy. Under the influence of Danton, the commune immediately re- 
 solved that, on the following day, September the 2d, the generale should be 
 beaten, the tocsin rung, and alarm-guns fired, and that all the disposable 
 citizens should repair armed to the Champ de Mars, encamp there for the 
 remainder of the day, and set out on the next for Verdun. From these terri- 
 ble preparations it became evident that something very different from a levy 
 eti masse was contemplated. Relatives hastened to make efforts to obtain 
 the enlargement of the prisoners. Manuel, the prociireur syndic, at the 
 solicitation of a generous woman liberated, it is said, two female prisoners 
 of the family of Latremouille. Another lady, Madame Fausse-Lendry, im- 
 portunately solicited permission to accompany her uncle, the Abbe de Ras- 
 tignac, in his captivity. "You are very imprudent," replied Sergent; "^/le 
 prisons are not safe.'*'' 
 
 Next day, the 2d of September, was Sunday, and the suspension of labour 
 increased the popular tumult. Numerous assemblages were formed in dif- 
 ferent places, and a report was spread that the enemy was likely to be at 
 Paris in three days. The commune informed the Assembly of the measures 
 which it had taken for the levy en masse of the citizens. Vergniaud, fired 
 with patriotic enthusiasm, immediately rose, complimented the Parisians on 
 their courage, and praised them for having converted the zeal for motions 
 into a more active and useful zeal — the zeal for combat. " It appears," 
 added he, " that the plan of the enemy is to march direct to the capital, 
 leaving the fortress behind him. Let him do so. This course will be our 
 salvation and his ruin. Our armies, too weak to withstand him, will be strong 
 enough to harass him in the rear ; and when he arrives, pursued by our bat- 
 talions, he will find himself face to face with our Parisian army, drawn up in 
 battle array under the walls of the capital ; and there, surrounded on all sides, 
 he will be swallowed up by that soil which he had profaned. But, amidst 
 these flattering hopes there is a danger which ought not to be disguised, that 
 of panic terrors. Our enemies reckon upon them, and distribute gold in order 
 to produce them ; and well you know it, there are men made up of so soft a 
 clay as to be decomposed at the idea of the least danger. I wish we could 
 pick out this species without souls, but with human faces, and collect all the 
 individuals belonging to it in one town, Longwy, for instance, which should 
 be called the town of coAvards : and there, objects of general contempt, they 
 would communicate their own fears to their fellow-citizens alone ; they would 
 no longer cause dwarfs to be mistaken for giants, and the dust flying before 
 a company of Hulans, for armed battalions. 
 
 " Parisians, it is higli time to display all your energy ! Why are not the 
 intrenchments of the camp more advanced ? Where are the pickaxes, the 
 spades, which raised the altar of the Federation, and levelled the Champ de 
 Mars ? You have manifested great ardour for festivities : surely you will 
 not show less for battle. You have sung — you have celebrated liberty. You 
 must now defend it. We have no longer to overthrow kings of bronze, but 
 living kings, armed v/itli all their power. I move, therefore, that the National 
 Assembly set the first example, and send twelve commissioners, not to make 
 txhortations, but to labour tliemselves, to wield the spade with their own 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 355 
 
 hands, in the sight of all the citizens." This suggestion was adopted with 
 the utmost enthusiasm. 
 
 Danton followed Vergniaud. He communicated the measures which had 
 been taken, and proposed new ones. " One portion of the people," said he, 
 *' is about to proceed to the frontiers, another is going to throw up intrench- 
 tnents, and the third, with pikes, will defend the interior of our cities. But 
 this is not enough. Commissioners and couriers must be sent forth to all 
 parts, to induce the whole of France to imitate Paris. A decree must be 
 passed, which shall make it obligatory on every citizen to serve in person, or 
 to give up his arms. The gun," added Danton, " which you will presently 
 hear, is not the alarm-gun; it is the charge against the enemies of liie country. 
 What need Ave, in order to conquer — to annihilate them? Courage! again 
 courage, and notldng hut courage y 
 
 The words and gestures of the minister made profound impression on all 
 present. His motion was adopted. He retired and went to the committee 
 of surveillance. All the autliorities, all the bodies, the Assembly, the com 
 mune, the sections, the Jacobins, were sitting. The ministers, who had met 
 at the hotel of the marine, were waiting for Danton to hold a council. The 
 whole city was in motion. Profound terror pervaded the prisons. At the 
 Temple, the royal family, to which any commotion threatened more serious 
 consequences than to the other prisoners, anxiously inquired the cause of 
 all this perturbation. The gaolers at the different prisons betrayed alarm. 
 The keeper of the Abbaye had sent away his wife and children in the morn- 
 ing. The prisoners' dinner had been served up two hours before the usual 
 time, and all the knives had been taken away from their napkins. Struck 
 by these circumstances, they had earnestly inquired the cause of their keep- 
 ers, who would not give any explanation. At length, at two o'clock, the 
 generale began to beat, the tocsin rang, and the alarm-gun thundered in the 
 capital. Troops of citizens repaired to the Champ de Mars. Others sur- 
 rounded the commune and the Assembly, and filled the public places. 
 
 There were at the Hotel de Ville twenty-four priests, who, having been 
 apprehended on account of their refusal to take the oath, were to be removed 
 to the hall of the depot to the prisons of the Abbaye. "Whether purposely 
 or accidentally, this moment was chosen for their removal. They were placed 
 in six hackney-coaches, and escorted by Breton and Marseilles federalists, 
 they were conveyed, at a slow pace, towards the fauxbourg St. Germain, 
 along the quays, over the Pont Neuf, and through the Rue Danphine. They 
 were surrounded and loaded with abuse. " There," said the federalists, 
 *' are the conspirators, who meant to murder our wives and children while 
 we were on the frontiers !" These words increased the tumult. The doors 
 of the coaches were open : the unfortunate persons within strove to shut 
 them, in order to screen themselves from the ill usage to which they were 
 exposed ; but, being prevented, they were obliged to endure blows and abuse 
 with patience. 
 
 At length they reached the court of the Abbaye, where an immense crowd 
 was already collected. That court led to the prisons, and communicated 
 with the hall in which the committee of the section of the Quatre-Nations 
 held its meetings. The first coach, on driving up to the door of the hall, 
 was surrounded by a furious rabble. Maillard was present. The door 
 opened. The first of the prisoners stepped forward to alight and to enter 
 tlie hall but was immediately pierced by a thousand weapons. The 
 second threw himself back in the carriage, but was dragged forth by main 
 "orce, and slaughtered like ihe preceding. The other two shared the same 
 
356 
 
 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 fate ; and their murderers left the first coach to go to those which followed. 
 They came up one after another into the fatal court, and the last of the 
 twenty-four priests,'- was despatched amidst the howls of an infuriated 
 populace. 
 
 At this moment Billaud-Varennesf arrived, a member of the council of tlia 
 commune, and the only one of the organizers of these massacres, who dared 
 with cruel intrepidity to encounter the sight of them, and constantly to de- 
 fend them. He came, wearing his scarf. Walking in the blood, and over 
 the corpses, he addressed the crowd of murderers. " Good people," saic' 
 he, " you sacrifice your enemies ; you do your duty." Another voice was 
 raised after Billaud's. It was that of Maillard. " There is nothing more 
 to do here," cried he ; " let us go to the Carmelites." His band followed 
 him, and away they posted all together towards the church of the Carm^ 
 ites, in which two hundred priests had been confined. They broke into tae 
 church, and butchered the unfortunate priests, who prayed to Heaven, and 
 embraced each other at the approach of death. They called with loud shouts 
 for the Archbishop of Aries ;:j: they sought for, and despatched him with the 
 stroke of a sword upon the skull. After using tlieir swords, they employed 
 fire-arms, and discharged volleys into the rooms and the garden, at the tops 
 of the walls and the trees, where some of the victims sought to escape 
 tlieir fury. 
 
 During the completion of the massacre at the Carmelites, Maillard re- 
 turned with part of his followers to the Abbaye. Covered with blood and 
 perspiration, he went in to the committee of the section of the Quatre-Na- 
 tions, and asked for wine for the brave labourers who were delivering the 
 nation fcotn its enemies. The committee shuddered, and granted them 
 twenty-four quarts. 
 
 The wine was poured out in the court at tables surrounded by the corpses 
 of the persons murdered in the afternoon. After it was drunk, Maillard, of 
 a sudden pointing to the prison, cried, To the Abbaye! At these words, 
 his gang followed him and attacked the door. The trembling prisoners heard 
 the yells — the signal for their death ! The gaoler and his wife disappeared. 
 The doors were thrown open. The first of the prisoners who were me\ 
 with were seized, dragged forth by the legs, and their bleeding bodies thrown 
 
 * With one exception only, the Abb6 Sicard, who miraculously escaped. 
 
 j- " Billaud-Varennes was born at Rochelle, which place he quitted several years before the 
 Revolution, at the age of twenty-three, from vexation that the people there had hissed a the- 
 atrical piece of his composition. He then went to Paris, where he got himself admitted a 
 barrister, and married a natural daughter of M. de Verdun, the only one of the farmers-gene- 
 ral who was not guillotined. In 1792, he was substitute for the attorney of the commune 
 of Paris, and became one of the directors of the September massacres. In 1795, he was 
 sentenced to banishment to Guiana, where he was looked upon by the people as little better 
 than a wild beast. His principal occupation, during his exile, was to breeding parrots. Bil* 
 laud Varennes was the author of many dull pamphlets." — Blngraphie Modeme, E. 
 
 4: " When the assassins got to the chapel, they called, with loud cries, the Archbishop of 
 Aries. ' Are you heV said one of them, addressing this venerable and virtuous prelate. ' Ye», 
 gentlemen, I am.' — 'Ah, wretch,' replied the fellow, 'it is you who caused the blood of the 
 patriots of Aries to be spilt,' and, with these words, Vhe ruffian aimed a blow of his hanger 
 at the prelate's forehead. He received it unmoved, A second dreadful gash was given him 
 in the face. A third blow brought him to the ground, where he rested on his left hand with- 
 out uttering a single murmur. While he lay thus, one of the assassins plunged his pike into 
 •- breast with such violence that the iron part stuck there. The ruffian then jumped on the 
 prelate's palpitating body, trampled upon it, and tore away his watch. Thus fell that amiable 
 archbishop, just within the chapel, at the foot of the altar and of the cross of our Saviour. 
 . reltier E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 357 
 
 into the court. While the first comers were thus indiscriminately slau<Th- 
 tered, Maillard and his band demanded the keys of the different prisons. 
 One of them, advancing towards the door of the wicket, mounted upon a 
 stool and harangued the mob. " My friends," said he, " you wish to destroy 
 the aristocrats, who are the enemies of the people, and who meant to murder 
 your wives and children while you were at the frontiers. You are right, v3 
 doubt; but you are good citizens ; you love justice ; and you would be very 
 sorry to steep your hands in innocent blood." — " Yes, certainly," cried the 
 executioners. — " Well, then, let me ask, when you are determined, without 
 listening to any remonstrance, to rush like furious tigers upon men who are 
 strangers to you, are you not liable to confound the innocent with the guilty ?" 
 The speaker was interrupted by one of the bystanders, who, armed with a 
 sword, cried in his turn, '' What! do you want to lull us to sleep, too? If 
 the Prussians and the Austrians were at Paris, would they strive to distin- 
 guish the guilty ? I have a wife and family, and will not leave them in dan- 
 ger. Give arms, if you please, to these scoundrels. AVe will tight them 
 man to man, and before we set out Paris shall be cleared of them." — " He 
 is right ; we must go in," said the others, and they rushed forward. They 
 were stopped, however, and obliged to assent to a kind of trial. It was 
 agreed that they should take a list of the prisoners, that one of them should 
 act as president, read the names and the causes of detention, and imme- 
 diately pronounce sentence on each prisoner. " MaiLard ! Let Maillard 
 be president !" cried out several voices : and forthwith he assumed the office. 
 This terrible president seated himself at a table, placed before him a list of 
 the prisoners, called around him a few men, taken at random, to give their 
 opinions, sent some into the prison to bring out the inmates, and posted 
 others at the door to consummate the massacre. It was aTced that, in order 
 to spare scenes of anguish, he should pronounce these words, Sir, to La 
 Force! \vhen the prisoner should be taken out at the wicket, and, unaware 
 of the fate which awaited him, be delivered up to the swords of the party 
 posted there. 
 
 The Swiss confined in the Abbaye, and whose officers had been taken to 
 the Concicrgerie, were first brought forward. "It was you," said Maillard, 
 *' who murdered the people on the 10th of August." — " We were attacked," 
 replied tlie unfortunate men, "and we obeyed our officers." — "At any 
 rate," replied Maillard, coldly, " you are only going to be taken to La 
 Force." But the prisoners, who had caught a glimpse of the swords bran- 
 dished on the other side of the wicket, were not to be deceived. They were 
 ordered to go, but halted, and drew back. One of them, more courageous, 
 asked which way they were to go. The door was opened, and he rushed 
 headlong amidst the swords and pikes. The others followed, and met with 
 the same fate ! 
 
 The executioners returned to the prison, put all the women into one room, 
 and brought out more prisoners. Several persons accused of forging assignats 
 were first sacrificed. After them came the celebrated Montmorin, whose 
 acquittal had caused so much commotion without obtaining him his liberty 
 Led before the blood-stained president, he declared that, being in the hands 
 of a regular tribunal, he could not recognise any other. " Well," replied 
 Maillard, " then you must go to La Force, to await a new trial !" The un- 
 suspecting ex-minister applied for a carriage. He was told that he would 
 find one at the door. He also asked for some of his effects, went to the 
 door, and was instantly put to death. 
 
 Thierry, the King's vaict-de-cbambre was then brought. "Like master. 
 
358 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 like man," said Maillard, and the unfortunate prisoner was slaughtered* 
 Next came Buob and Bocquillon, justices of the peace, accused of having 
 belonged to the secret committee of the Tuileries. They were accordinffly 
 murdered. Night, meanwhile, was advancing, and every prisoner, hearing 
 the yells of the assassins, concluded that his last hour was at hand. 
 
 What were the constituted authorities, all the assembled bodies, all the 
 citizens of Paris, about at this moment? In that immense capital, tran- 
 quillity and tumult, security and terror, may prevail at one and the same 
 time, so distant is one part of it from another. It was very late before the 
 Assembly was apprized of the atrocities perpetrating in the prisons ; and, 
 horror-struck, it had sent deputies to appease the people and to save the vic- 
 tims. The commune had despatched commissioners to liberate the prisoners 
 for debt, and to separate what they called the innocent from the guilty. 
 Lastly, the Jacobins, though met, and informed of what was passing, seemed 
 to maintain a preconcerted silence. The ministers, assembled at the hotel 
 of the marine to hold a council, were not yet apprized of what was beincr 
 perpetrated, and awaited Danton, who was attending the committee oi sitr- 
 vcillance. Santerre, the commandant-general, had, so he told the commune, 
 issued orders, but they were not obeyed, and almost all his men were engaged 
 in guarding the barriers. It is certain that unrecognised and contradictory 
 orders were given, and that all the signs of a secret authority, opposed to the 
 public authority, were manifested. In the court of the Abbaye was a post 
 of the national guard, which had instructions to suffer people to enter, but 
 not to go out. Besides, there were posts Availing for orders, and not receiv- 
 ing any. Had Santerre lost his wits, as on the 10th of August, or was he 
 implicated in the plot? While commissioners, publicly sent by the com- 
 mune, came to recommend tranquillity and to pacify the people, other mem- 
 bers of the same commune repaired to the committee of the Quatre-Nations, 
 which was sitting close to the scene of the massacres, and said, '' Is all going 
 on right here as well as at the Carmelites? The commune sends us to offer 
 you assistance if you need it." 
 
 The efforts of the commissioners sent by the Assembly and by the com- 
 mune to put a stop to the murders had proved unavailing. They had found 
 an immense mob surrounding the prison, and looking at the horrid sight 
 with shouts of Vive la nation! Old Busaulx, mounted on a chair, com- 
 menced an address in favour of mercy, but could not obtain a hearing. 
 Basire, possessing more tact, had feigned a participation in the resentment 
 
 * "M. Thierry, the King's head valet, after he was condemned to die, kept crying out, 
 * God save the King,' even when he had a pike run through his body ; and, as if these words 
 were blasphemous, the assassins in a rage, burned his face with two torches. — The Count 
 de St. Mart, a knight of the order of St. Louis, one of the prisoners, had a spear run through 
 both his sides. His executioners then forced him to crawl upon his knees, with his body 
 thus skewered ; and burst out laughing at his convulsive wrilhings. They at last put an end 
 to his agony by cutting offhis head." — Peltier. E. 
 
 "Young Masaubre had hid himself in a chimney. As he could not be found, the assassins 
 were resolved to make the gaoler answerable. The latter, accustomed to the tricks of pri- 
 soners, and knowing that the chimney was well secured at top by bars of iron, fired a gun up 
 several times. One ball hit Masaubre, and broke his wrist. He had sufiicient self-command 
 U» endure the pain in silence. The gaoler then set fire to some straw in the chimney. The 
 smoke suffocated him; he tumbled down on the burning straw; and was dragged out, 
 vvounded, burnt, and half dead. On being taken into the street, the executioners determined 
 to complete his death in the manner in which it had been begun. He remained almost a 
 quarter of an hour, lying in blood, among heaps of dead bodies, till the assassins could pro- 
 cure fire-arms. At last they put an end to his tortures by shooting him through the head 
 five times with pustols." — Feltier. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 359 
 
 of the crowd, but they refused to hsten to him the moment he endeavoured 
 to cxciie sentiments of compassion. Manuel, the procureur of the commune 
 fillea with pity, had run the greatest risks without being able to save a sino-le 
 victim. At this intelligence, the commune, touched more sensibly thali il 
 had been at first, despatched a second deputation, to Jictcifij the people, ana 
 to enlighten their minds as to their true interests. This deputation, as 
 unsuccessful as the first, merely succeeded in setting at liberty a few women 
 and debtors. 
 
 The massacre continued throughout that horrid night ! The murderers 
 succeeded each other at the tribunal and at the wicket, and became by turns 
 judges and executioners. At tlic same time they continued to drink, and set 
 down upon a table their blood-stained glasses. Amidst this carnage, how- 
 ever, they spared some victims, and manifested inconceivable joy in giving 
 them their lives. A young man, claimed by a section and declared pure from 
 aristocracy, was acquitted with sliouts of five la nation! and borne in tri- 
 umph in the bloody arms of the executioners. The venerable Sombreuil, 
 governor of the Invalides, was brought forward in his turn, and sentenced to 
 be transferred to La Force. His daughter perceived him from the pri&on, 
 rushed out among pikes and swords, clasped her father in her arms, clung 
 to him with such tenacity, besought liis murderers with sueli a flood of tears 
 and in such piteous accents, that even their fury was suspended. Tlien, as 
 if to sul)ject that sensibility which overpowered them to a fresh trial, 
 *' Drink," said tliey to this dutiful daughter, "drink the blood of the aristo- 
 crats !" and they handed to her a pot full of blood. She drank — and her 
 father was saved ! The daughter of Cazolte also instinctively clasped her 
 father in her arms. She, too, implored for mercy, and proved as irresistible 
 as the generous Sombreuil ; but, more fortunate than the latter, she saved 
 her father's life without having any horrible condition imposed upon her 
 aflfection. ■■ Tears trickled from the eyes of the murderers, and yet, in a 
 moment after, away they went in quest of fresh victims. 
 
 One of them returned to the prison to lead forth other prisoners to death. 
 Ho was told that the wretches whom he came to slaughter had been kept 
 without water for twenty-two hours, and he resolved to go and kill the 
 gaoler. Another felt compassion for a prisoner whom he was taking to the 
 wicket, because he heard him speak the dialect of his own country. " Why 
 art thou here ?" said he to M. Journiac de St. Meard. " If thou art not a 
 traitor, the president, who is not a fool, will do thee justice. Do not trem- 
 ble, and answer boldly." M. Journiac was brought before Maillard, who 
 looked at the list. " Ah !" said Maillard, " it is you, M. Journiac, who wrote 
 in the Journal de la Cour et de la Ville.'' — " No," replied the prisoner, " it is a 
 calumny. I never wrote in that paper." — "Beware of attempting to de- 
 ceive us," rejoined Maillard, "for any falsehood here is punished widi death. 
 Have you not recendy absented yourself to go to the army of the emi- 
 grants ?" — " That is another calumny. I have a certificate attesting thai for 
 twenty-three months past I have not left Paris." — " Whose is that cerlifi- 
 
 • " After thirty hours of carnage, sentence was passed on Cazotte, The instrument of 
 death was already npUfted. The bloody hands were stretched out to pierce his aged breast 
 His daughter flung herself on the old man's neck, and presenting her bosom to the swords 
 of the assassins exclaimed, 'You shall not get at my father till you have forced your way 
 through my heart.* The pikes were instantly checked in their murderous career ; a shout 
 of pardon is heard ; and is repeated by a thousand voices. Elizabeth, whose beauty was 
 heightened by her agitation, embraces the murderers : and covered with human blood, but 
 Uiumphant, she proceeds to lodge her father safe in the midst of his family — Peltier. E 
 
360 
 
 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 cate ? Is tlie signature authentic ?" Fortunately for M. de Journiac, tliere 
 happened to be among the sanguinary crew a man to whom the signer of the 
 certificate was personally known. The signature was accordingly verified and 
 declared to be genuine. " You see then," resumed M. de Journiac, *' I have 
 been slandered." — "If the slanderer were here," replied Maillard, "he 
 should sufifer condign punishment. But tell me, was there no motive for 
 your confinement?" — " Yes," answered M. de Journiac, " I was known to 
 be an aristocrat." — " An aristocrat !" — " Yes, an aristocrat : but you are not 
 here to sit in judgment on opinions. It is conduct only that you have to try. 
 Mine is irreproachable ; I have never conspired ; my soldiers in the reo-jment 
 which I commanded adored me, and they begged at Nancy to go and take 
 Malseijjne." Struck with his firmness, the judges looked at one another, 
 and Maillard gave the signal of mercy. Shouts of Vive la nation! instantly 
 arose on all sides. The prisoner was embraced. Two men laid hold of 
 him, and, covering him with their arms, led him safely through the threaten- 
 ing array of pikes and swords. M. de Journiac offered them money, but 
 they refused it, and only asked permission to embrace him.* Another pri- 
 soner, saved in like manner, was escorted home with the same attention. 
 The executioners, dripping with blood, begged leave to witness the joy of 
 his family, and immediately afterwards returned to the carnage. In this 
 convulsive state, all the emotions succeeded each other in the heart of man. 
 By turns a mild and a ferocious animal, he weeps and then slaughters. 
 Steeped in blood, he is all at once touched by an instance of ardent affection 
 or of noble firmness. He is sensible to the honour of appearing just, to the 
 vanity of appearing upright or disinterested. If, in these deplorable days of 
 September, some of those savages were seen turning at once robbers and 
 murderers, others were seen coming to deposit on the bureau of the com 
 mittee of the Abbaye the blood-stained jewels found upon the prisoners. 
 
 During this terrific night, the band had divided and carried destruction intp 
 the other prisons of Paris. At the Chiitelet, La Force, the Conciergerie 
 
 * "Ai half-past two o'clock on Sunday, Sept. 2, we prisoners saw three carriages pass bv 
 attended by a crowd of frantic men and women. They went on to the Abbey cloister, which 
 Had been converted into a prison for the clergy. In a moment after, we heard that the mob 
 had just butchered all the ecclesiastics, who, they said, had been put into the fold there. — 
 Near four o^ clock. The piercing cries of a man whom they were hacking into pieces with 
 hangers, drew us to the turret-window of our prison, whence we saw a mangled corpse on 
 the ground opposite to the door. Another was butchered in the same manner a moment 
 afterwards. — Near seven o'chck. We saw two men enter our cell with drawn swords in 
 their bloody hands. A turnkey showed the way with a flambeau, and pointed out to them 
 the bed of the unfortunate Swiss soldier, Reding. At this frightful moment, I was clasping 
 his hand, and endeavouring to console him. One of the assassins was going to lift him up, 
 but the poor Swiss s(op[)ed him, by saying, in a dying tone of voice, 'I am not afraid ol 
 death ; pray, sir, let rac be killed here.' He was, however, borne away on the men's shoulders, 
 carried into the street, and there murdered. — Ten o'clock, Monday morning. The most 
 important matter that nov^ employed our thoughts, was to consider what posture we should 
 put ourselves in, when dragged to the place of slaughter, in order to receive death with the 
 least pain. We sent, from time to time, some of our companions to the turret-window, to 
 inform us of the attitude of the victims. They brought us back word, that those who stretched 
 out their hands, suffered the longest, because the blows of the cutlasses were thereby weakened 
 Defore they reached the head ; that even some of the victims lost their hands and arms, before 
 their bodies fell ; and that such as put their hands behind their backs, mnst have suffered 
 much less pain. We calculated the advantages of this last posture, and advised one another 
 »o adopt it, when it should come to our turn to be butchered. — One o'clock, Tuesday morri' 
 ins;. After enduring inconceivable tortures of mind, I was brought before my judges, pro- 
 "imed innocent, and set free." — Extracted from a Journal entitled ^'My 'Tkiriy-ei^ht 
 rs^ A^ony," by M. Jourgniac de Salnt-Meard. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 361 
 
 the Bernardins, St. Firmiii, La Salpetriere, and the Bicetre, the same mas- 
 Bacres liad been perpetrated, and streams of blood had ilowed, as at the 
 Abbaye.- Next morning, Monday, the 3d of September, day threw a lio-ht 
 npon the horrid carnage of the night, and consternation pervaded all Paris. 
 Billaud-Varennes again repaired to the Abbaye, where, on the precedina 
 evening, he had encouraged what were called the labourers. He again ad- 
 dressed them. " My friends," said he, " by taking the lives of villains you 
 have saved the country. France owes you everlasting gratitude, and the 
 municipality knows not how to remunerate you. It offers you twenty-four 
 livres apiece, and you shall be paid immediately." These words were 
 received with applause, and those to whom they were addressed then fol- 
 lowed Billaud-Varennes to the committee to receive the pay that was pro- 
 mised them. " Where do you imagine," said the president to Billaud, 
 "that we are to find funds for paying?" Billaud then pronounced a fresh 
 eulogy on tlie massacres, and told the president that tne minister of the in- 
 terior must liave money for that purpose. Messengers were sent to Roland, 
 who, on rising, had just received intelligence of the crimes of the night, and 
 who refused the demand with indignation. Returning to the committee, the 
 murderers demanded, upon pain of death, the wages of their horrid labour, 
 and every member was obliged to empty his pockets to satisfy them.t The 
 commune undertook to pay tlie remainder of the debt, and there may still be 
 seen, in the statement of its expenses, the entries of several sums paid to the 
 executioners of September. There, too, may be seen, at the date of Sep- 
 tember the 4th, the sum of one thousand four hundred and sixty-three livres 
 charged to the same account. 
 
 The report of all these horrors had spread tliroughout Paris, and produced 
 the greatest consternation. The Jacobins continued to observe silence. 
 Some symptoms of compassion were shown at the commune ; but its mem- 
 bers did not fail to add that the people had been just; that they had punished 
 criminals only ; and that, in their vengeance, if they had done wrong, it was 
 merely by anticipating the sword of the law. The general council had again 
 sent commissioners '* to allay the agitation, and to bring back to right princi- 
 ples those who had been misled." Such were the expressions of the public 
 authorities ! People were everywhere to be found, who, M'hilst pitying the 
 sufferings of tlie unfortunate victims, added, "If they had been allowed to 
 live, they would have murdered us in a few days." " If," said others, " we 
 \xe conquered and massacred by the Prussians, they will at least have fallen 
 
 * "The populace in the court of the Abbaye, complained that the foremost only got a stroke 
 at *.he prisoners, and that they were deprived of the pleasure of murdering the aristocrats. It 
 was in consequence agreed that those in advance should only strike willi the backs of their 
 sabres, and that the wretched victims should be made to run the gauntlet through a long 
 avenue of murderers, each of whom should have the satisfacticni of striking them before they 
 expired. The women in the adjoining quarter made a formal demand to the commune for 
 lights to see the massacres, and a lamp was in consequence placed near the spot where the 
 victims issued, amid the shouts of the spectators. Benches, under the charge of sentinels, 
 were next arranged, some "Pour les Messieurs," and others "Pour les Dames," to witness 
 the spectacle!" — Alison. 
 
 f "The assassins were not slow in claiming their promised reward. Stained with blood, 
 and t«spaltered with brains, with their swords and bayonets in their hands, they soon 
 thronged the doors of the committee of the municipality, who were at a loss for fund.^ to dis- 
 charge their claims. "Do you think I have only twenty-four francs V said a young baker 
 armed with a massive weapon ; ' why, I have slain forty with my own hands!' At midnight 
 the mob returned, threatening instant death to the whole committee if they were not forthwith 
 paid." — Alison. E. 
 VOL. I. — 4C 
 
362 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 before us." Such are the frightful consequences of the fear which partiea 
 produce in each other, and of the hatred engendered by that fear ! 
 
 The Assembly, amidst these atrocious outrages, was painfully alTected 
 Decree after decree was issued, demanding from the commune an account of 
 the state of Paris ; and the commune replied that it was doing all that lay in 
 its power to restore order and the laws. Still the Assembly, composed of 
 those Girondins, who proceeded so courageously against the murderers of 
 September, and died so nobly for having attacked them — the Assembly did 
 not conceive the idea of repairing in a body to the prisons, and placing itself 
 between the butchers and the victims. If that generous idea did not occur 
 to draw them from their seats and to transfer them to the theatre of the car- 
 nage, this must be attributed to surprise, to the feeling of impotence, perhaps 
 also to that lukewarmness occasioned by danger from an enemy, and lastly, 
 to that disastrous notion shared by some of th^, deputies, that the victims 
 were so many conspirators, at whose hands death might have been expected, 
 had it not been inflicted on themselves. 
 
 One individual displayed on this day a generous character, and exclaimed 
 with noble energy against the murderers. During their reign of three days, 
 he remonstrated on the second. On Monday morning, the moment he was 
 informed of the crimes of the night, he wrote to Petion, the mayor, Avho as 
 yet knew nothing of them : he wrote t© Santerre, who did not act ; and ad- 
 dressed to both the most urgent requisitions. He also sent at the moment a 
 letter to the Assembly, which was received with applause This excellent 
 man, so r.nworthily calumniated by the parties, was Roland. In his letter 
 he inveighed against all sorts of disorders, against the usurpations of the 
 commune, against the fury of the populace, and said nobly that he was ready 
 to die at the post which the law. had assigned to him. If, however, the 
 reader wishes to form an idea of the exciting disposition of minds, of the 
 fury which prevailed against those who were denominated traitors, and of 
 the caution with which it was necessary to speak of outrageous passions, 
 some notion of them may be conceived from the following passage. As- 
 suredly there can be no question of the courage of the man who alone and 
 publicly held all the authorities responsible for the massacres ; and yet 
 observe in what manner he was obliged to express himself on the subject: 
 
 " Yesterday was a day over the events of which we ought perhaps to 
 throw a veil. I know that the people, terrible in their vengeance, exercise 
 a sort of justice in it; they do not take for their victims all whom they en- 
 counter in their fury ; they direct it against those whom they consider as 
 having been too long spared by the sword of the law, and whom the danger 
 of circumstances persuades them that it is expedient to sacrifice without de- 
 lay But I know, too, that it is easy for villains, for traitors, to abuse this 
 excitement, and that it ought to be stopped. I know that we owe to all 
 France the declaration that the executive power could neither foresee nor 
 prevent these excesses. I know that it is the duty of the constituted authori- 
 ties to put an end to them, or to regard themselves as annihilated. I know, 
 moreover, that this declaration exposes me to the rage of certain agitators. 
 Let them take my life. I am not anxious to preserve it, unless for the sake 
 of liberty and equality. If these be violated or destroyed, either by the rule 
 of foreign despots or by the excesses of a misled people, I shall have lived 
 jong enough; but till my latest breath I shall have done my duty. This 
 is the only good which I covet, and of which no power on earth ear. 
 deprive me." 
 
 The Assembly received this letter with applause, and on the motion of 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 363 
 
 Lamourette, ordered the commune to give an account of the state of Paris 
 The commune again replied that tranquillity was restored. On seeino- the 
 courage of the minister of the interior, Marat and his committee were exas- 
 perated, and dared to issue an order for his a-pprehension. Such was their 
 blind fury, that they had the hardihood to attack a minister and a man, who. 
 at the moment, still possessed all his popularity. At this news, Danton 
 vehemently inveighed against those members of the committee, whom he 
 called madmen. Though daily thwarted by the inflexibility of Roland, he 
 was far from harbouring animosity against him. Besides, he dreaded, in 
 his terrible policy, all that he deemed useless, and he regarded it as extrava- 
 gant to seize the minister of state in the midst of his functions. He repaired 
 to the residence of the mayor, hastened to the committee, and launched out 
 indignantly against Marat. Means were nevertheless found to appease him, 
 and to reconcile him with Marat. The order for Roland's apprehension was 
 delivered to him, and he went immediately and showed it to Petion, to whom 
 he related what he had done. " See," said he, " what those madmen are 
 capable of! — but I shall know how to bring them to reason." — " You have 
 done wrong," coolly replied Petion; "this act could not have harmed any 
 but its authors." 
 
 Petion, on his part, though colder than Roland, had displayed not less 
 courage. He had written to Santerre, who, either from impotence, or from 
 being implicated m the plot, replied that his heart was rent, but that he could 
 not enforce the execution of his orders. He had afterwards repaired in per- 
 son to the different theatres of carnage. At La Force he had dragged from 
 their bloody seat two municipal officers in scarfs, who were acting in the 
 same capacity as Maillard had done at the Abbaye. But no sooner was he 
 gone, to proceed to some other place, than the municipal oflicers returned, 
 and continued their executions. Petion, whose presence was everywhere 
 inefficacious, returned to Roland, who was taken ill in consequence of the 
 deep impression that had been made upon him. The only place preserved 
 from attack was the Temple, against the inmates of which the popular fury 
 was particularly excited. Here, however, the armed force had been more 
 fortunate ; and a tricoloured ribbon, extended between the walls and tire 
 populace, had sufficed to keep it off and to save the royal family."*^ 
 
 The monsters who had been spilling blood ever since Sunday, had con- 
 tracted an appetite for it, and a habit Avhich they could not immediately lay 
 aside. They had even established a sort of regularity in their executions. 
 They suspended them for the Durpose of removing the corpses, and taking 
 their meals. Women, carrymg refreshments, even repaired to the prisons, 
 to take dinner to their husbands, who, they said, were at work at the 
 Abb aye ! 
 
 At La Force, the Bicetre, and the Abbaye, the massacres were continued 
 longer than elsewhere. It was at La Force, that the unfortunate Princess 
 de Lamballe was confined. She had been celebrated at court for her beauty, 
 and her intimacy with the Queen. She was led dying to the terrible wicket. 
 " Who are you ?" asked the executioners in scarfs. " Louisa of Savoy, 
 Princess de Lamballe." — "What part do you act at court? Are you ac 
 quainted with the plots of the palace ?" — " I was never acquainted with any 
 
 • " One of the commissioners tolJ me that the mob had attempted to rush in, and to carrj» 
 into the Tower the body of the Princess de Lamballe, naked and bloody as it had been 
 dragged from the prison De la Force to the Temple; but that some municipal officers hail 
 hung a tricoloured ribbon across the principal gate as a bar against them ; and that for six 
 fiours it was very doubtful whether the royal family would be massacred or not.'* — Clery, E 
 
864 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 plot." — " Swear to love liberty and equality ; swear to hate the King, iha 
 Queen, and royalty." — '* I will take the first oath ; the second I canno' 
 take ; it is not in my heart." — " Swear, however," said one of the bystand- 
 ers, who wished to save her. "But the unfortunate lady could no longer 
 either see or hear. "Let Madame be set at liberty,'''' said the chief of the 
 wicket. Here, as at the Abbaye, a particular word had been adopted as the 
 signal of death. The princess was led away, not as some writers assert, to 
 be put to death, but for the purpose of being actually liberated. At the door, 
 however, she was received by wretches eager after carnage. At the first 
 stroke of a sabre on the back of her head, the blood gushed forth. She still 
 advanced, supported by two men, who perhaps meant to save her : but a 
 few paces further, she fell from the effect of a second blow. Her beautiful 
 form was torn in pieces.* It was even mangled and mutilated by the mur- 
 
 * " The Princess de Lamballe, having been spared on the night of the second, flu/ig her- 
 self on her bed, oppressed with every species of anxiety and horror. She closed her eyes, but 
 only to open them in an instant, startled with frightful dreams. About eight o'clock next 
 morning, two national guards entered her room, to inform her that she was going to be re- 
 moved to the Abbaye. She slipped on her gown, and went down stairs into the sessions- 
 room. When she entered this frightful court, the sight of weapons stained vi'ith blood, and 
 of executioners whose hands, faces, and clothes were smeared over with the same red dye, 
 gave her such a shock that she fainted several times. At length she was subjected to a mock 
 examination, after which, just as she was stepping across the threshold of the door, she re- 
 ceived on the back of her head a blow with a hanger, which made the blood spout. Two 
 men then hid fast hold of her, and obliged her to walk over dead bodies, while she was faint- 
 ing every instant. They then completed her murder by running her through with their 
 spears on a heap of corpses. She was afterwards stripped, and her naked body exposed to 
 the insults of the popalace. In this state it remained more than two hours. When any blood 
 gushing from its wounds stained the skin, some men, placed there for the purpose, imme 
 diately washed it off, to make the spectators take more particular notice of its whiteness, i 
 must not venture to describe the excesses of barbarity and lustful indecency with which this 
 corpse was defiled. I shall only say that a cannon was charged with one of the legs! To- 
 wards noon, the murderers determined to cut off her head, and carry it in triumph round 
 Paris. Her other scattered limbs were also given to troops of cannibals who trailed them 
 along the streets. The pike that supported the head was planted under the very windows of 
 the Duke of Orleans. He was sitting down to dinner at the time, but rose from his chair, 
 and gazed at the ghastly spectacle without discovering the least symptom of uneasiness, ter- 
 ror or satisfaction." — Peltier. E. 
 
 " One day when my brother came to pay us a visit, he perceived, as he came along, groups 
 of people whose sanguinary drunkenness was horrible. Many were naked to the waist, and 
 their arms and breasts were covered with blood. Their countenances were inflamed, and 
 their eyes haggard ; in short, they looked hideous. My brother, in his uneasiness about us, 
 determined to come to us at all risks, and drove rapidly along the Boulevard, until he arrived 
 opposite the house of Beaumarchais. There he was stoppetl by an immense mob, composed 
 also of half-naked people, besmeared with blood, and who had the appearance of demons. 
 They vociferated, sang, and danced. It was the Saturnalia of Hell ! On perceiving Albert's 
 cabriolet, they cried out, 'Let it be taken to him; he is an aristocrat.' In a moment, the 
 cabriolet was surrounded by the multitude, and from the middle of the crowd an object seemed 
 to arise and approach. My brother's troubled sight did not at first enable him to perceive long 
 auburn tresses clotted with blood, and a countenance still lovely. The object came nearer and 
 nearer, and rested upon his face. My unhappy brother uttered a piercing cry. He had recog- 
 nised the head of the Princess de Lamballe I" — Duchess (T Abr antes. E. 
 
 " It is sometimes not uninstructive to follow the career of the wretches who perpetrate such 
 crimes to their latter end. In a remote situation on the sea-coast, lived a middle-aged man, 
 ii a solitary cottage, unattended by any human being. The police had strict orders from the 
 First Consul to watch him with peculiar care. He died of suffocation produced by an acci- 
 dent which had beHilIen him when eating, uttering the most horrid blasphemies, and in the 
 midst of frightful tortures. He had been the principal actor in the murder of the Princess do 
 liamballo." — Duchess (TAbrantes. E. 
 
 " Madame de Lamballe's sincere attachment to the Queen was her only crime. In the midst 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 365 
 
 derers, who divided the fragments among them. Her head, her heart, and 
 other parts of her body, v/ere borne through Paris on the point of pikes 
 " AVe must," said the wretclies, in their atrocious language, " carry than to 
 thefout of the tJironcy They ran to the Temple, and with shouts awoke 
 the unfortunate prisoners. Tiiey inquired in alarm what \vas the matter 
 Tlie municipal officers wished to prevent them from seeing the horrible crew 
 under their w^indow, and the bloody head uplifted on the point of a pike. A 
 length one of the national guards said to the Queen, ''It is the head of 
 Lamballe Avhich they are anxious to keep you from seeing." At these 
 words, the Queen fainted. Madame Elizabeth, the King, and Clery, the 
 valet-dc-chambre, carried away the unfortunate princess, and for a considera- 
 ble time afterwards, the shouts of the ferocious rabble rang around the walls 
 of the Temple. 
 
 The whole day of the 3d, and the succeeding night continued to be sullied 
 by these massacres. At the Bicetre, the carnage was longer and more terri^ 
 ble than anywhere else. '' There some thousands of prisoners were confined, 
 2.S everybody knows, for all sorts of misdemeanors. They were attacked, 
 endeavoured to defend themselves, and cannon were employed to reduce 
 them. A member of the general council of the commune even had the 
 audacity to apply for a force to reduce the prisoners, wlio were defending 
 themselves. He was not listened to. Petion repaired again to the Bicetre, 
 but to no purpose. The thirst for blood urged on the multitude. The fury 
 of fighting and murdering had superseded political fanaticism, and it killed 
 for the sake of killing. There the massacre lasted till Thursday, tlie 5th 
 of September.f 
 
 of our commotions she had played no part ; nothing could render her suspected by the people, 
 10 whom she was only known by repeated acts of beneficence. When summoned to the bar 
 of La Force, many among the crowd besought pardon for her, and the assassins for a mo- 
 ment stood doubtful, but soon murdered her. Immediately they cut off her head and her 
 breasts; her body was opened, her heart torn out; and the tigers who had so mangled her, 
 took a barbarous pleasure in going to show her head and heart to Louis XVI. and his family, 
 at the Temple. Madame de Lamballe was beautiful, gentle, obliging, and moderate." — 
 Mercier. E. 
 
 " Marie Therese Louise de Savoie Carignan Lamballe, v/idow of Louis Alexander Joseph 
 Stanislas de Bourbon Penthiere, Prince de Lamballe, was born in September, 1749, and was 
 mistrese of the household to the Queen of France, to whom she was united by bunds of the 
 tenderest affection." — Biographie Muderne. E. 
 
 * "The Bicetre Hospital was the scene of the longest and the most bloody carnage. This 
 prison might be called the haunt or receptacle of every vice; it was an hospital also for the 
 cure of the foulest and most afflicting diseases. It was the sink of Paris. Every creature 
 there was put to death. It is impossible to calculate the number of victims, but I have heard 
 them calculated at six thousand. The work of death never ceased for an instant during eight 
 days and nights. Pikes, swords, and guns, not being sufficient for the ferocity of the mur- 
 derers, they were obliged to have recourse to cannon. Then, for the first time, were prisoners 
 seen fighting for their dungeons and their chains. They made a long and deadly resistance, 
 but were all eventually assassinated." — Pcllier. E. 
 
 \ Subjoined are some valuable details respecting the days of September, which exhibit 
 those horrid scenes under their genuine aspect. It was at the Jacobins that the most im- 
 portant disclosures were made, in consequence of the disputes which had arisen in the Cou 
 vention : 
 
 Sitting of Monday, October 29, 1792. 
 
 " Chahol. — This morning Louvet made an assertion, which it is essential to contradict- 
 He told us that it was not the men of the lOlh of August who were the authors of the 2d ot 
 September, and I, as an eyewitness, can tell you that it was the very same men. He tolJ 
 us that there were not more than two hundred persons acting, and I will tell you that I passed 
 under a steel arch of ten thousand swords. For the truth of this I appeal to Bazire, Colon. 
 
366 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 At length almost all the victims hud perished ; the prisons were tinpty 
 The infuriated wretches gtill demanded blood, but the dark directors of sc 
 
 and the other deputies who were with me : frnm the Cour des Moines to the prison of the 
 Abbaye, people were obliged to squeeze one another to make a passage for us. I recognised 
 for my part one hundred and fifty federalists. It is impossible that Louvet and his adherents 
 should not have been present at these popular executions. Yet a man who can coolly deliver 
 a speech such as Louvet's, cannot have much humanity. At any rate, I know that, since 
 that speech, I would not he down by him for fear of being assassinated. I summon Pelion 
 to declare if it be true that there were not more than two hundred men at that execution i 
 but it was to be expected that intriguers would fall foul of that day, respecting which all France 
 is not yet enlightened They want to destroy the patriots in detail. They want de- 
 crees of accusation against Robespierre, Marat, Danton, and Santerre. They will soon 
 attack Bazire, Merlin, Chabot, Montaut, and even Grangeneuve, if he had not reconciled 
 himself with them ; they will then propose a decree against the whole fauxbourg St. Antoine, 
 and against the forty-eight sections, and there will be eight hundred thousand of us decreed 
 under accusation: but let them beware of miscalculating their strength, since they demand 
 the ostracism." 
 
 Sitting of Monday, November 5. 
 
 " Fabre d'Eglantine made some observations on the events of the 2d of September. He 
 declared that it was the men of the 10th of August who broke into the prisons of the Abbaye, 
 of Orleans, and of Versailles. He said that in these moments of crisis he had seen the same 
 men come to Danton's, and express their satisfaction by rubbing their hands together: that 
 (*ne of them even desired that Morande might be sacrificed : he added, that he had seen in 
 the garden of the minister for foreign affairs, Roland, the minister, pale, dejected, with his 
 head leaning against a tree, demanding the removal of the Convention to Tours or Blois. 
 The speaker added that Danton alone displayed the greatest energy of character on that day; 
 that Danton never despaired of the salvation of the country ; that by stamping upon the 
 ground he made ten thousand defenders start from it; and that he had sufficient moderation 
 not to make a bad use of the species of dictatorship with which the National Assembly had 
 invested him, by decreeing that those who should counteract the ministerial operations should 
 be punished with death. Fabre then declared that he had received a letter from Madame 
 Koland, in which the wife of the minister of the interior begged him to lend a hand to an 
 expedient devised for the purpose of carrying some decrees in the Convention. The speaker 
 proposed that the society should pass a resolution for drawing up an address comprehending 
 all the historical details of the events which had occurred from the acquittal of Lafayette to 
 that day." 
 
 " Chabot. — These are facts which it is of importance to know. On the 10th of August, 
 the people, in their insurrection, designed to sacrifice the Swiss. At that time, the Brissotins 
 did not consider themselves as the men of the 10th of August, for they came to implore us 
 to take pity on them — such was the very expression of Lasource. On that day I was a god, 
 I saved one hundred and fifty Swiss. Single-handed, I stopped at the door of the Feuillanfl 
 the people eager to penetrate into the hall for the purpose of sacrificing those unfortunate 
 Swiss to their vengeance. The Brissotins were then apprehensive lest the massacre should 
 extend to them. After what I had done on the lOlh of August, I expected that, on the 2d 
 of September, I should be deputed to the people. Well, the extraordinary commission under 
 the presidency of the supreme Brissot did not choose me. Whom did it choose 1 Dussaulx, 
 with whom, it is true, Bazire was associated. At the same time, it was well known what 
 men were qualified to influence the people, and to stop the effusion of blood. The deputa- 
 tion was passing me; Bazire begged me to join it, and took me along with him Had 
 
 Dussaulx private instructions 1 I know not ; but this I know, that he would not nllow any 
 one to speak. Amidst an assemblage often thousand men, among whom were one hundred 
 and fifty Marseillais, Dussaulx mounted a chair; he was extremely awkward: he had to 
 address men armed with daggers. When he at length obtained silence, I said hastily to him, 
 ♦If you manage well, you will put a stop to the effusion of blood : tell the Parisians that it 
 is to their interest that the massacres should cease, that the departments may not be alarmed 
 for the safety of the National Convention, which is about to assemble at Paris.' Dussaulx 
 heard me ; but, whether from insincerity or the pride of age, he would not do what I told 
 him ; and this is that M. Dussaulx who is proclaimed the only worthy man in the deputation 
 of Paris ! A second fact not less essential is, that the massacre of the prisoners of Orleans 
 WM not committed by the Parisians. This massacre ought to appear much more odiou% 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 3G7 
 
 many murders began themselves to be accessible to pity. The expressions 
 of the commune assumed a milder tone. Deeply moved, it is said, bv the 
 rigour exercised against the prisoners, it issued fresh orders for stoppincr 
 them; and this time it was better obeyed. There were, however, but very 
 few unliappy individuals left to benefit by its pity ! All the reports of the 
 time differ in their estimate of the number of the victims. That estimate 
 varies from six to twelve thousand in the prisons of Paris. ' 
 
 Butif tlie executions spread consternation, the audacity wliich could avow 
 and recommend the imitation of them, excited not less surprise than tlie exe- 
 cutions themselves. The committee of surveillance dared to address a 
 circular to all the communes of France, which history ought to preserve, 
 togetlier with the names of the seven persons who did not liesitate to sign it. 
 From this document the reader may form some conception of the fanaticism 
 produced by the public danger. 
 
 "Taris, September 2, 1792. 
 " Brethren and friends, 
 
 "A horrid plot, hatched by the court, to murder all tlie patriots of the 
 French empire, a plot in which a great number of members of the National 
 
 because it was farther distant from the 10th of August, and was perpetrated by a smaller 
 number of men. The intriguers, nevertheless, have not mentioned it ; they have not said a 
 word aliout it, and why 1 Because there perished an enemy of Brissot, the minister for fo- 
 reign alfairs, who had ousted his protege, Narbonne If I alone, at the door of the 
 
 Feuillans, stopped the people who wanted to sacrifice the Swiss, how much greater is the 
 probability tlmt the Legislative Assembly might have prevented the effusion of blood ! If, 
 then, there lie any guilt, to the Legislative Assembly it must be imputed, or rather to Brissot, 
 who was then its leader." 
 
 • " Recapitulation of the persons massacred in the different prisons at Paris, from Sunday, 
 the 2d, till Friday, the 7th of September, 1792 : 
 
 214 at the Convent of the Carmelites, and Saint Firmin's Seminary; 
 180 at the Abbey of St. Germain ; 
 73 at the Cloister of the Bernardins; 
 45 at the Hospital of La Salpetricre* 
 85 at the Conciergerie , 
 214 at the Chatelet; 
 164 at the Hotel de la Force. 
 
 1005 
 
 To these should be added the poor creatures who were put to death in the Hospital of Bic^- 
 tre, and in the yards at La Salpetriere ; those who were drowned at thp Hotel de la Force ; 
 and all those who were dragged out of the dungeons of the Conciergo- qnd the Chutelet, 
 to be butchered on the Pont-au-Change, the number of whom it will ever be irnpossible 
 wholly to ascertain, but which may, without exaggeration, be computed at eight thousand 
 individuals!" — Peltier. E. 
 
 "The small number of those who perpetrated these murders in the French capital under 
 the eyes of the legislature is one of the most instructive facts in the history of revolutions. 
 The number actually engaged in the massacres did not exceed 300 ; and twice as many more 
 witnessed and encouraged their proceedings: yet this handful of men governed Paris and 
 France with a despotism, which 300,000 armed warriors afterwards strove in vain to effect. 
 The immense majority of the well disposed citizens, divided in opinion, irresolute in conduct, 
 and dispersed in various quarters, were incapable of arresting the progress of assassination. 
 It is not less worthy of observation, that these atrocities took place in the heart of a city 
 where above fifty thousand men were enrolled in the national guard, and had arms in their 
 hands! When the murders had ceased, the remains of the victims were thrown into 
 trenches previously prepared by the municipality for their reception. They were subso- 
 •juently conveyed to the catacombs, where they were built up; and still remain the monu- 
 ment of crimes unfit to be thought of, and which France would gladly bury in oblivion.'' 
 —Alison.. 
 
308 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Assembly are implicated, having, on the 9th of last month, reduced the com- 
 mune of Paris to the cruel necessit}^ of employing the power of the people 
 to save the nation, it has not neglected anything to deserve well of the coun- 
 try. After the testimonies which the National Assembly itself had just 
 given, could it have been imagined that fresh plots were hatching in secret, 
 and that they would break forth at the very moment when the National As- 
 sembly, forgetting its recent declaration that the commune of Paris had saved 
 the country, was striving to cashier it as a reward for its ardent patriotism? 
 At these tidings, the public clamour raised on all sides rendered the National 
 Assembly sensible of the urgent necessity for joining the people, and restor- 
 ing to the commune, with reference to the decree of destitution, the power 
 with which it had invested it. 
 
 " Proud of enjoying in the fullest measure the national confidence, which 
 it will strive to deserve more and more, placed in the focus of all conspira- 
 cies, and determined to perish for the public welfare, it will not boast of 
 having done its duty till it shall have obtained your approbation, which is 
 the object of all its wishes, and of which it will not be certain till all the 
 departments have sanctioned its measures for the public weal. Professing 
 the principles of the most perfect equality, aspiring to no other privilege 
 than that of being the first to mount the breach, it will feel anxious to reduce 
 itself to the level of the least numerous commune of the empire as soon as 
 there shall be nothing more to dread. 
 
 " Apprized that barbarous hordes arc advancing against it, the commune 
 of Paris hastens to inform its brethren in all the departments that part of the 
 ferocious conspirators confined in the prisons has been put to death by the 
 people — acts of justice which appear to it indispensable for repressing by 
 terror the legions of traitors encompassed by its walls at the moment when 
 they were about to march against the enemy ; and no doubt the nation, after 
 the long series of treasons which have brought it to the brink of the abyss, 
 will eagerly adopt this useful and necessary expedient; and all the French 
 will say, like the Parisians — We are marching against the enemy, and we 
 will not leave beliind us brigands to murder our wives and our children. 
 
 *' (Signed) Duplain, Panis, Sergent, Lenfant, Marat, Lefort, 
 
 JouRDEuiL, Administrators of the Committee of Sur- 
 veillance, constituted at the MairieJ'^ 
 
 Dumouriez, as we have seen, had already held a council of war at Sedan. 
 Dillon had there proposed to fall back to Chalons, for the purpose of placing 
 the Marne in our front, and of defending the passage of that river. Thp 
 disorder prevailing among the twenty-three thousand men left to Dumouriez; 
 their inability to make head against eighty thousand Prussians, perfectly 
 organized and habituated to war ; the intention attributed to the enemy of 
 making a rapid invasion without stopping at the fortresses — these were the 
 reasons which led Dillon to conceive it to be impossible to keep the Prus- 
 sians in check, and that no time should be lost in retiring before them, in 
 order to seek stronger positions which might make amends. The council 
 was so struck by these reasons that it coincided unanimously in Dillon's 
 opinion, and Dumouriez, to wliom, as general-in-chief, the decision belonged, 
 replied that he would consider it. 
 
 This was on the evening of the 28th of August. A resolution was here 
 taken which saved France. Several persons dispute the honour of it. Every- 
 thing proves that it is due to Dumouriez. The execution, at any rate, ren- 
 ders It entirely his own, and ought to earn for him all the glory of it. 
 
FRENXH REVOLUTION. 36!^ 
 
 France, as every reader knows, is defended on the east by the Rhine and the 
 Vos^res, on the north by a cliain of fortresses created by the genius of Vau- 
 ban, and by the Meuse, the Moselle, and various streams, which, combined 
 with the fortified towns, constitute a sum total of obstacles sufiicient to pro- 
 tect that frontier. The enemy had penetrated into France from the north, 
 and had directed his march between Sedan and IMctz, leaving the attack of 
 the fortresses of the Netherlands to the Duke of Saxe-Teschen, and masking 
 Metz and Lorraine by a body of troops. Consistently with this plan, he 
 ought to have marched rapidly, profited by the disorganization of the French, 
 struck terror into them by decisive blov/s, and even taken Lafayette's twenty- 
 three thousand men, before a new general had again given tliem unity and 
 confidence. But the struggle between the presumption of the King of 
 Prussia and the prudence of Brunswick forbade any resolution, and prevented 
 the allies from being either bold or prudent. The reduction of Verdun in- 
 flamed still more the vanity of Frederick-William and the ardour of the 
 emigrants, but without giving greater activity to Brunswick, wlio was far 
 from approving of the invasion, with the means which lie possessed, and 
 with the disposition of the invaded country. After the capture of V"erdun, 
 on the 2d of September, the allied army spread itself for some days over the 
 plains hordering the Meuse, and contented itself with occupying Stenay, 
 without advancing a single step. Dumouricz was at Sedan, and his army 
 encamped in the environs. 
 
 From Sedan to Passavant a forest extends, the name of which ought lo be 
 for ever famous in our annals. This is the forest of Argonne, which covers 
 a space of from thirteen to fifteen leagues, and which, from the inequalities 
 of the ground, and the mixture of wood and water, is absolutely impenetrable 
 to an army, except by some of the principal passes. Through this forest 
 the enemy must have penetrated, in order to reach Chalons and afterwards 
 take the road to Paris. With sucli a plan it is astonishing that he had not 
 yet thought of occupying the principal passes, and thus have anticipated 
 Dumouriez, who, from his position at Sedan, was separated from them by 
 the whole length of the forest. The evening after the council of war, the 
 French general was considering the map with an officer, in whose talents he 
 had the greatest confidence. This was Thouvenot. Pointing with his finger 
 to the Argonne and the tracks by Avhich it is intersected, — '' That," said he, 
 "is the Tliermopylae of France. If I can but get thither before the Prussians, 
 all will be saved." 
 
 Thouvenot's genius took fire at this expression, and both fell to work upon 
 the details of this grand plan. Its advantages were immense. Instead of 
 retreating, and have nothing but the Marne for the last line of defence, Du- 
 mouriez would, by its adoption, cause the enemy to lose valuable time, and 
 oblige him to remain in Champagne, the desolate, muddy, sterile soil of which 
 coukl not furnish supplies for an army: neither would he give up to the in 
 vaders, as would happen if he retired to Chalons, the Trois-Eveches, a rich 
 and fertUe country, where they might winter very comfortably, in case they 
 should not have "forced the Marne. If the enemy, after losing some time 
 before the forest, attempted to turn it, and directed his course towards Sedan, 
 he would meet with the fortresses of the Netherlands, and it was not to be 
 supposed that he could reduce them. If he tried the other extremity^ of the 
 forest, he would come upon Metz and the army of the centre. Dumouriez 
 would then set out in pursuit of him, and, by joining the army of Kellermann, 
 he might form a mass of fifty thousand men, supported by Metz and several 
 other ifortified towns. At all events, this course would disappoint him of the 
 
 VOL. I. 47 
 
370 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 object of his march, and cause him to lose this campaign ; for it was already 
 September, and, at this period, people began at that season to take up winter 
 quarters. This plan was excellent, but the point was to carry it into execu- 
 tion ; and the Prussians ranged along the Argonne, while Dumouriez was at 
 one of its extremities, might have occupied its passes. Thus then the issue 
 of this grand plan and the fate of France depended on accident and a fault of 
 the enemy. 
 
 The Argonne is intersected by five defiles, called Chene-Populeux, Croix- 
 aux-Bois, Grand-Prey, La Chalade and Islettes. The most important are 
 those of Grand-Prey and Islettes; and unluckily these were the farthest from 
 Sedan and the nearest to the enemy. Dumouriez resolved to proceed thither 
 with his whole force. At the same time, he ordered General Dubouquet to 
 leave the department of the Nord, and to occupy the pass of Chene-Populeux, 
 which was of great importance, but very near Sedan, and the occupation of 
 which was less urgent. Two routes presented themselves to Dumouriez for 
 marching to Grand-Prey and Islettes. One was in the rear of the forest, the 
 other in front of it, and in face of the enemy. The first, passing in the rear 
 of the forest, was the safer, but the longer of the two. It would reveal our 
 designs to the enemy, and give him time to counteract them. The other 
 was shorter, but this too would betray our intentions, and expose our march 
 to the attacks of a formidable army. It would in fact oblige the French 
 general to skirt the woods, and to pass in front of Stenay, where Clairfayt* 
 was posted with his Austrians. Dumouriez, nevertheless, preferred the latter 
 route, and conceived the boldest plan. He concluded that, with Austrian 
 prudence, the general would not fail, on the appearance of the French, to 
 intrench himself in the excellent camp of Brouenne, and that he might in the 
 meantime give him the slip and proceed to Grand-Prey and Islettes. 
 
 Accordingly, on the 30th, Dillon put himself in motion, and set out with 
 eight thousand men for Stenay, marching between the Meuse and the forest. 
 He found Clairfayt occupying both banks of the river, with twenty-five 
 thousand Austrians. General Miaczinsky, with fifteen hundred men, attacked 
 Clairfayt's advanced posts, while Dillon, posted in rear, marched to his sup- 
 port with his whole division. A brisk firing ensued, and Clairfayt, imme- 
 diately recrossing the Meuse, marched for Brouenne, as Dumouriez had most 
 happily foreseen. Meanwhile Dillon boldly proceeded between the Meuse and 
 the Argonne. Dumouriez followed him closely with the fifteen thousand men 
 composing his main body, and both advanced towards the posts which were 
 assigned to them. On the 2d Dumouriez was at Beffu, and he had but one 
 march more to make in order to reach Grand-Prey. Dillon was on the same 
 day at Pierremont, and kept advancing with extreme boldness towards 
 Islettes. Luckily for him. General Galbaud, sent to reinforce the garrison 
 of Verdun, had arrived too late and fallen back upon Islettes, which he thus 
 occupied beforehand. Dillon came up on the 4th, with his ten thousand 
 
 • " Count de Clairfayt, a Walloon officer, field-marshal in the Austrian service, and knight 
 of the Golden Fleece, served with great credit in the war with the Turks, and in 1791 was 
 employed against France. He assisted in takinf^ Longwy in August, and in November lost 
 the famous battle of Jemappes. In 1793, the Prince of Coburg took the chief command of 
 the Austrian army, yet its successes were not the less owing to Clairfayt. In 1794 he con* 
 tinned to command a body of men, and met Picbegru in West Flanders, with whom he 
 fought seven important battles before he resigned the victory to him. In 1796 Clairfayt 
 entered the aulic council of war, and died at Vienna in 1798. Military men consider him 
 Ine best general that was ever opposed to the French during the revolutionary war," — Bto 
 graphie Moderne. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. ■ 37 J 
 
 men, established himself there, and moreover occupied La Chalade, another 
 secondary pass, which was committed to his charge. Dumoiiriez, at the 
 same time, reached Grand-Prey, found the post vacant, and took possession 
 of it on the 3d. Thus the third and fourth of the passes were occupied by 
 our troops, and the salvation of France was considerably advanced. 
 
 it was by this bold march, which was at least as meritorious as the idea 
 of occupying the Argonne, that Dumouriez placed himself in a condition to 
 resist the invasion. But this was not enough. It was necessary to render 
 those passes inexpugnable, and to this end to make a great number of dispo- 
 sitions depending on many chances. 
 
 Dillon intrenched himsef at the Islettes. He made abattis, threw np ex- 
 cellent intrenchments, and, skilfully placing the French artillery, which was 
 numerous and excellent, formed batteries which rendered the pass inacces- 
 sible. At the same time he occupied La Chalade, and thus made himself 
 master of the two routes leading to St. Menehould and from St. Menehould 
 to Chalons. Dumouriez established himself at Grand-Prey in a camp, ren- 
 dered formidable both by nature and art. The site of this encampment con- 
 sisted of heights rising in the form of an amphitheatre. At the foot of these 
 heights lay extensive meadows, before which flowed the Aire, forming the 
 Ute du camp. Two bridges were thrown over the Aire, and two very strong 
 advanced guards were placed there, with orders to burn them and to retire 
 in case of attack. The enemy, after dislodging these advanced troops, would 
 have to effect the passage of the Aire, without the help of bridges and under 
 the fire of all our artillery. Having passecl ti.e river, he would then have to 
 advance through a basin of meadows crossed by a thousand fires, and lastly 
 10 storm steep and almost inaccessible intrenchments. In case all these ob- 
 stacles should be overcome, Dumouriez, retreating by the heights which he 
 occupied, would descend the back of them, find at their foot the Aisne, 
 another stream which skirted them on that side, cross two bridges which he 
 would destroy, and thus again place a river between himself and the Prus- 
 sians. This camp might be considered as impregnable, and there the French 
 general would be sufliciently secure to turn his attention quietly to the whole 
 theatre of the war. 
 
 On the 7th, General Dubouquet, with six thousand men, occupied the 
 pass of Chene-Populeux. There was now left only the much less important 
 pass of Croix-aux-Bois, which lay between Chene-Populeux and Grand-Prey. 
 There Dumouriez, having first caused the road to be broken up and trees 
 felled, posted a colonel with two battalions and two squadrons. Placed thus 
 in the centre of the forest, and in a camp that was impregnable, he defended 
 the principal pass with fifteen thousand men. On his right, at the distance 
 of four leagues, was Dillon, who guarded the Islettes and La Chalade with 
 eight thousand. On his left Dubouquet, who occupied the Chene-Populeux 
 with six thousand ; and a colonel with a few companies watched the road 
 of the Croix-aux-Bois, which was deemed of very inferior importance. 
 
 His whole defence being; thus arrano-ed, he had tune to wait for reinfoice 
 ments, and he hastened to give orders apcordingly. He directed Beurnon- 
 ville* to quit the frontier of the Netherlands, where the Duke of Saxe-Teschen 
 
 • *' Pierre Ryel de Beurnonville, was born at Champigneul in 1752, and intended for the 
 church, but was bent on becoming a soldier. He was employed in 1792 as a general under 
 Dumouriez, who called him his Ajax. During the war he was arrested, and conveyed to the 
 head-quarters of the Prince of Coburg, but in 1795 he was exchanged for the daughter of 
 Louis XVL In 1797 Beurnonville was appointed to the command of the French army in 
 Holland ; and in the following year, was made inspector-general by the Directory. He wm 
 
372 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 was not attempting any thing of importance, and to be at Rethel on the 13th 
 of September, with ten thousand men. He fixed upon Chalons as the depot 
 for provisions and ammunition, and for the rendezvous of the recruits and 
 reinforcements which had been sent off to him. He thus collected in hia 
 rear all the means of composing a sufficient resistance. At the same time, 
 he informed the executive power that he had occupied the Argonne. *' Grand- 
 Prey and the Islettes," he wrote, " are our Thermopylae ; but I shall be 
 more fortunate than Leonidas." He begged that some regiments might be 
 detached from the army of the Rhine, which was not threatened, and that 
 they might be joined to the army of the centre, now under the command of 
 Kellermann. The intention of the Prussians being evidently to march upon 
 Paris, because they masked Montmedy and Thionville, without stopping 
 before them, he proposed that Kellermann should be ordered to skirt their 
 left, by Ligny and Barle-Duc, and thus take them in flank and rear during 
 their offensive march. In consequence of all these dispositions, if the Prus- 
 sians should go higher up without attempting to force the Argonne, Dumou- 
 riez would be at Revigny before them, and would there find Kellermann 
 arriving from INIetz with the army of the centre. If they descended towards 
 Sedan, Dumouriez would still follow them, fall in with Beurnonville's tea 
 thousand men, and wait for Kellermann on the banks of the Aisne ; and, in 
 both cases, the junction would produce a total of sixty thousand men, capable 
 of showing themselves in the open field. 
 
 The executive power omitted nothing to second Dumouriez in his excel- 
 lent plans. Servan, the minister at war, though in ill health, attended with- 
 out intermission to the provisioning of the armies, to the despatching of 
 necessaries and ammunition, and to the assemblage of the new levies. From 
 fifteen hundred to two thousand volunteers daily left Paris. A military 
 enthusiasm seized all classes, and people hurried away in crowds to join the 
 army. The halls of the patriotic societies, the councils of the commune, 
 and the Assembly, were incessantly traversed by companies raised sponta- 
 neously, and marching off for Chalons, the general rendezvous of the volun- 
 teers. These young soldiers lacked nothing but discipline and familiarity 
 with the field of battle, in which they were yet deficient, but which they 
 were likely soon to acquire under an able general. 
 
 The Girondins were personal enemies of Dumouriez, and they had given 
 him but little of their confidence ever since he expelled them froih the minis- 
 try. They had even endeavoured to supersede ]iim in the chief command 
 by an officer named Grimoard. But they had again rallied round him as 
 soon as he seemed to be charged with the destinies of the country. Roland, 
 the best, the most disinterested of them, had written him a touching letter to 
 assure him that all was forgotten, and that his friends all wished for nothing 
 more ardently than to have to celebrate his victories. 
 
 Dumouriez had thus vigorously seized upon this frontier, and made him- 
 self the centre of vast movements, till then too tardy and too unconnected. 
 He had happily occupied the defiles of the Argonne, taken a posifion which 
 afforded the armies time to collect and to organize themselves in his rear; 
 he was bringing together all the corps for the purpose of forming an imposing 
 mass ; he had placed Kellermann under the necessity of coming to receive 
 
 one of those who sided with Bonaparte, when the latter brought about a new revolution in 
 1799, and afterwards received from him the embassy to Berlin. He was at a subsequent 
 period sent as ambassador to Madrid ; and in 1805, was chosen a senator. From the year 
 1791 to 1793, Beurnonviile was present in not less than 173 engagements." — Diographu 
 oderne. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 373 
 
 his orders ; he commanded with vigour, he acted with promptness, he kept up 
 the spirits of liis soldiers by appearing in the midst of them, by testifying 
 great confidence in them, and by making them wish for a speedy rencounter 
 with the enemy. 
 
 Such was the state of affairs on the 10th of September. The Prussians 
 passed along all our posts, skirmished on the front of all our intrenchments, 
 and were everywhere repulsed. Dumouriez had formed secret communica- 
 tions in the interior of the forest, by which he sent to the points that were 
 threatened unexpected reinforcements, which caused the enemy to believe 
 our army to be twice as strong as it really was. On the 11th, there was a 
 general attempt upon Grand-Prey ; but General Miranda, posted at INIor- 
 taume, and General Stengel at St. Jouvion, repulsed all the attacks with 
 complete success. On several points, the soldiers, encouraged by their posi- 
 tion and the attitude of their leaders, leaped over the intrenchments and met 
 the approaching assailants at the point of the bayonet. These combats occu- 
 pied the army, which was sometimes in want of provisions, owing to the 
 disorder inseparable from sudden service. But the cheerfulness of the gene- 
 ral, who fared no better than his troops, produced universal resignation ; and 
 though dysentery began to make its appearance, still the camp of Grand- 
 Prey was tolerably healthy. The superior officers only, who doubted the 
 possibility of a long resistance, and the ministry, who had no conception of 
 it either, talked of a retreat behind the Marne, and annoyed Dumouriez with 
 their suggestions. He wrote energetic letters to the ministers, and imposed 
 silence on his officers, by telHng them that, wlien he wanted their advice, he 
 would call a council of war. 
 
 It is impossible for a man to escape the disadvantages incident to his 
 qualities. Thus the extreme promptness of Dumouriez's mind frequently 
 hurried him on to act without due reflection. In his ardour to conceive, it 
 had already happened that he had forgotten to calculate the material obsta- 
 cles to his plans ; especially when lie ordered Lafayette to proceed from 
 Metz to Givet. Here he committed a capital fault, which, had he possessed 
 less energy of mind and coolness, might have occasioned the loss of the cam- 
 paign. Between the Chcne Populeux and Grand-Prey, tliere Avas, as we 
 have stated, a secondary pass, which had been deemed of very inferior con- 
 sequence, and was defended by no more than two battalions and two squad- 
 rons. Wholly engrossed by concerns of the highest importance, Dumouriez 
 had not gone to inspect that pass with his own eyes. Having, moreover, 
 but few men to post there, he had easily persuaded himself that some hun- 
 dreds would be sufficient to ffuard it. To crown the misfortune, the colonel 
 whom Dumouriez had placed there persuaded him that part of the troops at 
 that post might be withdrawn, and that, if the roads were broken up, a few 
 volunteers would suflice to maintain the defensive at that point. Dumouriez 
 sufTered himself to be misled by this colonel, an old officer, whom he deemed 
 worthy of confidence. 
 
 Meanwhile, Brunswick had caused our different posts to be examined, 
 and for a moment he entertained the design of skirting the forest as far as 
 Sedan, for the purpose of turning it towards that extremity. It appears that, 
 during this movement, the spies discovered the negligence of the French 
 general. The Croix-aux-Bois was attacked by the Austrians and the emi- 
 grants commanded by the Prince de Ligne. The abattis had scarcely been 
 made, the roads were not broken up, and the pass was occupied without 
 resistance on the morning of the 13th. No sooner had the unpleasant tidings 
 reached Dumouriez, than he sent General Chasot a very brave officer, wi 
 
S74 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 two brigades, six squadrons, and four eight pounders, to recover possession 
 of the pass, and to drive the Austrians from it. He ordered them to be at- 
 tacked as briskly as possible with the bayonet, before they had time to 
 intrench themselves. The 13th and 14th passed before General Chasot could 
 execute the orders which he had received. At length on the 15th, he attacked 
 with vigour, and repulsed the enemy, who lost the post, and their com- 
 mander, the Prince de Ligne. But, being attacked two hours afterwards by 
 a very superior force, before he could intrench himself, he was in his turn 
 repulsed, and entirely dispossessed of the Croix-aux-Bois. Chasot was, 
 moreover, cut off from Grand-Prey, and could not retire towards the main 
 army, which was thus weakened by all the troops that he had with him. 
 He immediately (A\ back upon Vouziers. General Dubouquet, command- 
 ing at the Chene-Populeux, and thus far successful in his resistance, seeing 
 himself separated from Grand-Prey, conceived that he ought not to run the 
 risk of being surrounded by the enemy, who, liaving broken the line at the 
 Croix-aux-Bois, was about to debouch en masse. He resolved, therefore, to 
 decamp, and to retreat by Attigny and Somme-Puis, upon Chalons. Thus 
 the fruit of so many bold combinations and lucky accidents was lost. The 
 only obstacle that could be opposed to the invasion, the Argonne, was sur- 
 mounted, and the road to Paris was thrown open. 
 
 Dumouriez, separated from Chasot and Dubouquet, was reduced to fifteen 
 thousand men ; and if the enemy, debouching rapidly by the Croix-aux- 
 Bois, should turn the position of Grand-Prey, and occupy the passes of the 
 Aisne, which, as we have said, served for an outlet to the rear of the camp, 
 the French general would be undone. Having forty thousand Prussians in 
 front, twenty-five thousand Austrians in his rear, hemmed in with fifteen 
 thousand men, by sixty-five thousand, by two rivers, and by the forest, he 
 could do nothing but lay down his arms, or cause his soldiers to the very 
 last man to be uselessly slaughtered. The only army upon which France 
 relied, would thus be annihilated, and the allies might take without impedi- 
 ment the road to the capital. 
 
 In this desperate situation, the geneml was not discouraged, but maintained 
 an admirable coolness. His first care was to think the very same day of 
 retreating, for it was his most urgent duty to save himself from the Caudine 
 forks. He considered that on his right he was in contact with Dillon, who 
 was yet master of the Islettes and the road to St. Menehould ; that, by retiring 
 upon the rear of the latter, and placing his back against Dillon's, they should 
 both face the enemy, the one at the Islettes, the other at St. Menehould, and 
 thus present a double intrenched front. There they might await the junction 
 of the two generals Chasot and Dubouquet, detached from the main body, 
 that of Beurnonville, ordered from Flanders to be at Rethel on the 13th; and 
 lasdy, that of Kellermann, who, having been more tlian ten days on his march, 
 could not fail very soon to arrive with his army. This plan was the best 
 and the most accordant with the system of Dumouriez, which consisted in 
 not falling back into the interior, towards an open country, but in maintain- 
 ing his ground in a difficult one, in gaining time there, and in placing himself 
 in a position to form a junction with the army of the centre. If, on the con- 
 trary, he were to fall back on Chfilons, he would be pursued as a fugitive; he 
 would execute with disadvantage a retreat which he might have inade more 
 beneficially at first ; and above all he would render it impossible for Keller- 
 mann to join him. It showed great boldness, after such an accident as had 
 befallen him at the Croix-aux-Bois, to persist in his system ; and it required 
 at the moment as much genius as energy not to give way to the oft-repeated 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 375 
 
 advice to retire bclaiul the Marne. But then again, how many lucky acci- 
 dents does it not require to succeed in a retreat so difficult, so closely watched, 
 and executed with so small a force in the presence of so powerful an enemy !* 
 
 He immediately sent orders to Beurnonville, who was already proceeding 
 towards llethel, to Chasot, from whom he had just received favourable 
 tidings, and to Dubouquet, who had retired to Attirny, to repair all of them 
 to St. Mencliould. At the same time he despatch., d fresli instructions to 
 Kellermann to continue his march ; for he was afraid lest Kellermann, on 
 hearing of the loss of the defiles, should determine to return to INIetz. Hav- 
 ing made these arrangements, and received a Prussian ofiicer, who demanded 
 a parley, and shown him the camp in the best order, he directed tlie tents to 
 be struck at midnight, and the troops to march in silence towards the two 
 bridges wliich served for outlets to the camp of Grand-Prey. Luckily for 
 him, the enemy had not yet thought of penetrating by the Crois-aux-Bois, 
 and overwhelming the French positions. The weather was stormy, and 
 covered the retreat of the French with darkness. They marched all night 
 on the most execrable roads, and the army, which, fortunately, had not hac' 
 time to take alarm, retired without knowing- the motive of this change of 
 position. 
 
 By eight in the morning of the next day, the 16lh, all the troops had 
 crossed the Aisne. Dumouriez had escaped, and he halted in order of battle 
 on the heights of Autry, four leagues from Grand-Prey. He was nOt pur- 
 sued, considered himself saved, and was advancing towards Dammartin-sur- 
 Hans, with the intention of there choosing an encampment for the day, when 
 suddenly a number of runaways came up shouting that all was lost, and that 
 the enemy, falling upon our rear, had put the army to the rout. On hearing 
 this clamour, Dumouriez hastened to the spot, returned to his rear-guard, 
 and found Miranda, the Peruvian,t and old General Duval, rallying the fugi- 
 tives, and with great firmness restoring order in tlie ranks of the army, which 
 some Prussian hussars had for a moment surprised and broken. The inex- 
 perience of these young troops, and the fear of treachery which then filled 
 all minds, rendered panic terrors both very easy and very frequent. All, 
 however, was retrieved, owing to the efforts of the three generals, Miranda, 
 Duval, and Stengel, who belonged to the rear-guard. The army bivouacked 
 at Dammartin, with the hope of soon backing upon the Islettes, and thus 
 happily terminating this perilous retreat. 
 
 Dumouriez had been for twenty hours on horseback. He alighted at six 
 in the evening, Avhen, all at once, he again heard shouts of Saiive (jiii pent! 
 and imprecations against the generals who betrayed the soldiers, and espe- 
 
 • "Never was the situation of an army more desperate than at this critical period. France 
 was within a hair's-breadlh of destruction." — Dumouriez's Memoirs. E. 
 
 ■j- " Dumouriez says that Miranda was born in Peru ; others, that he was a native of 
 Mexico, He led a wandering life for some years, traversed the greatest part of Europe, lived 
 much in England, and was in Russia at the time of the French Revolution ; which event 
 opening n career to him, he went to Paris, and there, protected by Potion, soon made his 
 way. He had good natural and acquired abilities, and was particularly skilful as an engineer. 
 In 1792 he was sent to command the artillery in Champagne under Dumouriez, whom he 
 afterwards accompanied into the Low Countries. While there, he intrigued against that 
 general in the most perlidious manner, atid was brought liefore the revolutionary tribunal, by 
 whom, however, he was acquitted. In 1803 he was arrested at Paris, on suspicion of form- 
 ing plots against the consular government, and was sentenced to transportation. The battle 
 of Nerwinde, in 1793, was lost entirely by the folly or cowardice of Miranda, who withdrew 
 ilraost av the beginning of the action, and abandoned all his artillery." — Biographie 
 Moderne E. 
 
376 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 cially ag^ninst the commander-in-chief, who, it was said, had just gone over 
 to the enemy. The artillery had put horses to the guns and were about to 
 seek refuge on an eminence. All the troops were confounded. Dumourioi 
 caused large fires to be kindled, and issued orders for halting on the spot all 
 night. Thus they passed ten hours more in mud and darkness. More than 
 fifteen hundred fugitives running off* across the country, reported at Paris and 
 throughout France that the army of the North, the last hope of the country, 
 was lost and given up to the enemy. 
 
 By the following day all was repaired. Dumouriez wrote to the National 
 Assembly with his usual assurance. "I have been obliged to abandon the 
 camp of Grand-Prey. The retreat was accomplished, when a panic terror 
 seized the army. Ten thousand men fled before fifteen hundred Prussian 
 hussars. The loss amounts to no more than fifty men and some baggage. 
 All is retrieved, and I make myself responsible for evluything." 
 Nothing less was requisite to dispel the terrors of Paris and of the executive 
 council, which was about to urge tlie general afresh to cross the Marne. 
 
 St. Menehould, whither Dumouriez was marching, is situated on the 
 Aisne, one of the two rivers which encompassed the camp of Grand-Prey. 
 Dumouriez had therefore to march along that river against the stream ; but, 
 before he reached it, he had to cross three deep rivulets which fall into it,— 
 Tourbe, the Bionne, and the Auve. Beyond these rivulets was the camp 
 which he intended to occupy. In front of St. Menehould rises a circular 
 range of heights, three-quarters of a league in length. At their foot extend 
 low grounds, in which the Auve forms marshes before it falls into the Aisne. 
 These lov/ grounds are bordered on the right by the heights of the Hyron, 
 faced by those of La Lune, and on the left by those of Gisaucourt. In the 
 centre of the basin are several elevations, but inferior to those of St. Mene 
 hould. The hill of Valmi is one, and it is immediately opposite to the hills 
 of La Lune. The high-road from Chfilons to St. Menehould passes through 
 this basin, almost in a parallel direction to the course of the Auve. It was 
 at St. Menehould and alDOve this basin that Dumouriez posted himself He 
 caused all the important positions around him to be occupied, and, support- 
 ing his back against Dillon, desired him to maintain his ground against the 
 enemy. He thus occupied the high-road to Paris upon three points — the 
 Islettes, St. Menehould, and Chalons. 
 
 The Prussians, however, if they advanced by Grand-Prey, might leave 
 him at St. Menehould and get to Chalons. Dumouriez therefore ordered 
 Dubouquet, of whose safe arrival at Chiilons he had received intelligence, to 
 place himself with his division in the camp of L'Epine, and there to collect 
 all the recently-arrived volunteers, in order to protect Chalons from a coup- 
 de-mcdn. He was afterwards joined by Chasot, and, lastly, by Beurnonville. 
 The latter had come in sight of St. Menehould on the 15th. Seeing an army 
 in good order, he had supposed that it was the enemy, for he could not sup- 
 pose that Dumouriez, who was reported to be beaten, had so soon retrieved 
 the disaster. Under this impression, he had fallen back upon Chalons, and» 
 haviufT there learned the real state of the case, he had returned, and on the 
 
 TT 
 
 19th taken up the position of MalTrecourt, on the right of the camp. He 
 had brought up these ten thousand brave fellows, whom Dumouriez had 
 excK.ised for a month in the camp of Mflulde, amidst a continual war of 
 posts. Reinforced by Beurnonville and Chasot, Dumouriez could number 
 thirty-five thousand men. Thus, owing to his firmness and presence of mind, 
 he again found himsslf placed in a very strong position, and enabled to 
 temporize f'r^r a considerable time to come. But if the enemy, getting the 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 377 
 
 Start and leaving him behind, should hasten forward to Chalons, what then 
 would become of his camp of St. Menehould ? There was ground, therefore, 
 for the same apprehensions as before, and his precautions in the camp of 
 L'Epine were far from being capable of preventing such a danger. 
 
 Two movements were very slowly operating around liim. That of Bruns- 
 wick, who hesitated in his march, and that of Kellermann, Avho, having set 
 out on the 4th from Metz, had not yet arrived at the specified point, though 
 he had been a fortnight on the road. But if the tardiness of Brunswick was 
 serviceable to Dumouriez. that of Kellermann compromised him exceedingly. 
 Kellermann, prudent and irresolute, though very brave, had alternately ad- 
 vanced and retreated, according to the movements of the Prussian army; 
 and again on the 17th, on receiving intelligence of the loss of tlie defiles, he 
 had made one march backward. On the evening of the 19th, however, he 
 had sent word to Dumouriez, that he was no more than two leagues from 
 St. Menehould. Dumouriez had reserved for him the lici£;hts of Gisaucourt, 
 situated on liis left, and commanding the road to Chiilons and tlie stream of 
 the Auve. He had sent him directions that, in case of a battle, he might 
 deploy on the secondary heights, and advance upon Valmi, beyond the Auve. 
 Dumouriez had not time to go and place his colleague himself, Kellermann, 
 crossing the Auve on the night of the 19th, advanced to Valmi, in the centre 
 of the basin, and neglected the heights of Gisaucourt, whicli formed the left 
 of the camp of St. Menehould, and commanded those of LaLune, upon which 
 the Prussians were arriving. 
 
 At this moment, in fact, the Prussians, debouching by Grand-Prey, had 
 come in sight of the French army, and ascending the heights of La Lune, 
 already discovered the ground on tlie summit of wliich Dumouriez was sta- 
 tioned. Relinquishing the intention of a rapid march upon Clialons, they 
 rejoiced, it is said to find the two French generals together, conceiving that 
 they could capture both at once. Their object was to make themselves 
 masters of the road to Chalons, to proceed to Vitry, to force Dillon at the 
 Islcttcs, thus to surround St. Menehould on all sides, and to oblige the two 
 armies to lay down their arms. 
 
 On the morning of the 20th, Kellermann, who, instead of occupying the 
 heights of Gisaucourt, had proceeded to the centre of the basin, to the mill 
 of Valmi, found himself commanded in front by the heights of La Lune, occu- 
 pied by the enemy. On one side he had the Hyron, wliich the French held, 
 but which they were liable to lose. On the other, Gisaucourt, which he had 
 not occupied, and where the Prussians were about to establish themselves. 
 In case he should be beaten, he would be driven into the marshes of the 
 Auve, situated behind the mill of Valmi, and he might be utterly destroyed, 
 before he could join Dumouriez, in the bottom of this amphitheatre. He 
 immediately sent to his colleague for assistance. But the King of Prussia,* 
 seeino- a orcat bustle in the French army, and conceiving that the generals 
 designed to proceed to Chalons, resolved immediately to close the road to it, 
 and gave orders for the attack. On the road to Chalons, the Prussian ad- 
 vanced guard met that of Kellermann, who was with his main body on the 
 
 • "In the course of one of the Prussian marches, the King of Prussia met a young soldier 
 with his knapsack on his back, and an old musket in his hands. ♦ Where are you going ? 
 asked his majesty. 'To fight,' replied the soldier. ' By that answer,' rejoined the monarch, 
 'I recognise the noblesse of France.' He saluted him, and passed on. The soldier's name 
 has since become immortal. It was F. Chateaubriand, then returning from his travels in 
 North America, to share in the dangers of the throne in his native country." — ChaUaubrx 
 end's Memoirs. E. 
 
 VOL. T. — 48 
 
378 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 hill of Valmi. A brisk action ensued, and the Frencli, who were at first 
 repulsed, were rallied, and afterwards supported by the carbineers of Gene- 
 ral Valence. From the heights of La Lune, a cannonade was kept up 
 against the mill of Valmi, and our artillery warmly returned the fire of the 
 Prussians. 
 
 Kellermann's situation, however, was extremely perilous. His troops 
 were confusedly crowded together on the hill of Valmi, and too much incom- 
 moded to fight there. They were cannonaded from the heights of La Lune; 
 their left suffered severely from the fire of the Prussians on those of Gisau- 
 court ; the Hyron, which flanked their right, was actually occupied by the 
 French, but Clairfayt, attacking this post, with his twenty-five thousand 
 Austrians, might take it from them. In this case, Kellermann, exposed to 
 a fire from every side, might be driven from Valmi into the Auve, whilst it 
 might not be in the power of Dumouriez to assist him. The latter imme- 
 diately sent General Stengel with a strong division to support the French on 
 the Hyron, and to protect the right of Valmi. He directed Beurnonville 
 to support Stengel with sixteen battalions, and he sent Chasot with nine 
 battalions, and eight squadrons, along the Chalons road, to occupy Gisau- 
 court, and to flank Kellermann's left. But Chasot, on approaching Valmi, 
 sent to Kellermann for orders, instead of advancing upon Gisaucourt, and 
 left the Prussians time to occupy it, and to open a destructive fire from that 
 point upon us. Kellermann, however, supported on the right and the left, 
 was enabled to maintain himself at the mill of Valmi. Unluckily a shell, 
 falling on an ammunition-wagon, caused it to explode, and threw the infantry 
 into disorder. This was increased by the cannon of La Lune, and the first 
 line began already to give v/ay. Kellermann, perceiving this movement, 
 hastened through the ranks, rallied them, and restored confidence. Bruns- 
 wick conceived this to be a favourable moment for ascending the height and 
 overthrowing the French troops with the bayonet. 
 
 It was now noon. A thick fog which had enveloped the two armies had 
 cleared off. They had a distinct view of each other, and our young soldiers 
 beheld the Prussians advancincf in three columns with the assurance of 
 veteran troops habituated to warfare. It was the first time that they found 
 themselves to the number of one hundred thousand men on the field of battle, 
 and that they were about to cross bayonets. They knew not yet either 
 themselves or. the enemy, and they looked at each other with uneasiness. 
 Kellermann went into the trenches, disposed his troops in columns with a 
 battalion in front, and ordered them, when the Prussians should be at a cer- 
 tain distance, not to wait for them, but to run forward and meet them with 
 the bayonet. Then raising his voice, he cried Vive la nation! His men 
 might be brave or cowards. The cry of Vive la nation! however, roused 
 their courage, and our young soldiers, catching the spirit of their commander, 
 marched on, shouting Vive la nation! At this sight, Brunswick, who ha- 
 zarded the attack with repugnance, and with considerable apprehension for 
 the result, hesitated, halted his columns, and finally ordered them to return 
 lo the camp. 
 
 This trial was decisive. From that moment people gave credit for valour, 
 to those coblers and those tailors of whom the emigrants said that the French 
 army was composed. They had seen men, equipped, clothed, and brave ; 
 they had seen officers decorated and full of experience ; a General Duval, 
 whose majestic stature and gray hair inspired respect; Kellermann, and 
 af'tly, Dumouriez, displaying the utmost firmness and skill in presence of si 
 Kiipcrior an enemy. At this moment the French Revolution was appreciated 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 379 
 
 and that chaos, till then ridiculous, ceased to be regarded in any other licrli 
 than as a terrible burst ot' energy. 
 
 At four o'clock, Brunswick ventured upon a new attack. The firnniess 
 ■>f our troops again disconcerted him, and again he withdrew his columns. 
 Marching from one surprise to another, and finding all that he had been told 
 false, the Prussian general advanced with extreme circumspection ; and» 
 thoug1\ fault lias been found with him for not pushing the attack more briskly, 
 and overthrowing Kellermann, good judges are of opinion that he was in tlie 
 right.. Kellermann, supported on the right and left by the whole French 
 army, was enabled to resist; and if Brunswick, jammed in a gorge, and in 
 an execrable country, had chanced to be beaten, he might have been utterly 
 destroyed. Besides, he had, by the result of that day, occupied the road to 
 Chalons. The French were cut off from their depot, and he hoped to 
 oblige them to quit their position in a few days. He did not consider that, 
 masters of Vitry, they were merely subjected by this circumstance to the 
 inconvenience of a longer circuit, and to some delay in the arrival of their 
 convoys. 
 
 Such was the celebrated battle of the 20th of September, 1792, in which 
 more than twenty thousand cannon-shot were fired, whence it has been since 
 called the " Cannonade of Valmi." ■■ The loss was equal on both sides, and 
 amounted to eight or nine hundred men for each. But gaiety and assurance 
 reigned in the French camp, reproach and regret in that of the Prussians. 
 It is asserted that on the very same evening the King of Prussia addressed 
 the severest remonstrances to the emigrants, and that a great diminution was 
 perceived in the influence of Calonne, the most presumptuous of the 
 emigrant ministers, and the most fertile in exaggerated promises and false 
 information. 
 
 That same night Kellermann recrossed the Auve with little noise, and 
 encamped on the heights of Gisaucourt, which he should have occupied at 
 first, and by which the Prussians had profited in the conflict. The Prus- 
 sians remained on the heights of La Lune. At tlie opposite extremity was 
 Dumouriez, and on his left Kellermann upon the heights, of which he had 
 just taken possession. In this singular position the French, with their faces 
 towards France, seemed to be invading it, and the Prussians, witli their backs 
 to it, appeared to be defending the country. Here commenced, on the part 
 of Dumouriez, a new line of conduct, full of energy and firmness, as well 
 against the enemy as against his own officers and against the French author- 
 ity. With nearly seventy thousand men, in a good camp, in no want, or 
 at least but rarely in want of provisions, he could afford to wait. The Prus- 
 sians, on the contrary, ran short. Disease began to thin their army, and in 
 this situation they would lose a great deal by temporizing. A most incle- 
 ment season, amidst a wet country and on a clayey soil, did not allow them 
 to make any long stay. If, resuming too late the energy and celebrity of the 
 
 * "It is with an invading army as with an insurrection. An indecisive action is equiva- 
 lent to a defeat. The affair of Valmi was merely a cannonade; the total loss on both sides 
 did not exceed eight hundred men ; the bulk of the forces on neither were drawn out; yet it 
 produced upon the invaders consequences equivalent to the most terrible overthrow. 'J'he 
 Duke of Brunswick no longer ventured to despise an enemy who had shown so much steadi' 
 ness under a severe fire of artillery ; the elevation of victory, and the self-confidence which 
 insures it, had passed over to the other side. Gifted with an uncommon d<^grce of intelli- 
 gence, and influenced by an ardent imagination, the French soldiers are easily depressed by 
 defeat, but proportionally raised by success ; they rapidly make the transition from one state 
 of feeling to the other. From the cannonade of Valmi may be dated the commencement of 
 that career of victory which carried their armies to Vienna and the Kremlin." — Alison. £ 
 
380 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 .nvasion, they attempted to marcli for Paris, Dumouriez was in force to pur* 
 sue and to surround them, when they should have penetrated farther. 
 
 These views were replete with justice and sagacity: but in the camp, 
 where the officers were tired of enduring privations, and where Kellermami 
 was dissatisfied at being subjected to a superior authority; at Paris, where 
 people found themselves separated from the principal army, where they could 
 perceive nothing between them and the Prussians, and within fifteen leao-ues 
 of which Hulans were seen advancing, since the forest of Argonne had been 
 opened, they could not approve of the plan of Dumouriez. The Assembly, 
 the council, complained of his obstinacy, and wrote him the most imperative 
 letters to make him abandon his posidon and recross the Marne. The camp 
 of Montmarte and an army between Chfilons and Paris, were the double 
 rampart required by their terrified imaginations. " The Hulans annoy you," 
 wrote Dumouriez ; " well then, kill them. That does not concern me. I 
 shall not change my plan for the sake of nous ardoilles.^' Entreaties and 
 orders nevertheless continued to pour in upon him. In the camp, the officers 
 did not cease to make observations. The soldiers alone, cheered by the 
 high spirits of the general, who took care to visit their ranks, to encouraore 
 them, and to explain to them the critical position of the Prussians, patiently 
 endured the rain and privations. Kellermann at one time insisted on depart- 
 ing, and Dumouriez, like Columbus, soliciting a few days more for his 
 equipment, was obliged to promise to decamp if, in a certain number of days, 
 the Prussians did not beat a retreat. 
 
 The fine army of the allies was, in fact, in a deplorable condition. It was 
 perishing from want, and still more from the destructive effect of dysentery. 
 To these afflictions the plans of Dumouriez had powerfully contiabuted. 
 The firing in front of the camp being deemed useless, because it tended to 
 no result, it was agreed between the two armies that it should cease ; but 
 Dumouriez stipulated that it should be suspended on the front only. He 
 immediately detached all his cavalry, especially that of the new levy, to scour 
 the adjacent country in order to intercept the convoys of the enemy, who, 
 having come by the pass of Grand-Prey and proceeded along the Aisne to 
 follow our retreat, was obliged to make his supj^lies pursue the same circuit- 
 ous route. Our horse took a liking to this lucrative warfare, and prosecuted 
 it with great success. 
 
 The last days of September had now arrived. The disease in the Prus- 
 sian army became intolerable, and officers were sent to the French camp to 
 parley.* They confined themselves at first to a proposal for the exchange 
 of prisoners. The Prussians had demanded the benefit of this exchange for 
 the emigrants also, but this had been refused. Great politeness had been 
 observed on both sides. From the exchange of prisoners the conversaUon 
 turned to the motives of the war, and on the part of the Prussians it was 
 almost admitted that the war was impolitic. On this occasion the character 
 
 * " Tfie proposals of (he King of Prussia do not appear to offer a basis for a negotiation, 
 but they demonstrate that the enemy's distress is very great, ii fact sufTiciently indicated by 
 the wretchedness of their bread, the multitude of their sick, and the langour of their attacks. 
 I am persuaded that the King of Prussia is now heartily sorry at being so far in advance, and 
 would readily adopt any means to extricate himself from his embarrassment. He keeps so 
 near me, from a wish to engage us in a combat as the only means he has of escaping; for if 
 I keep within my intrenchments eight days longer, his army will dissolve of itself from wnni 
 of provisions. I will undertake no serious negotiation without your authority, and withoui 
 receiving from you the basis on which it is to be conducted. All that I have hitherto done 
 is to gain time, and commit no one."— Dumourjez's Despatch to the French Govern 
 mem. E 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 3S1 
 
 >f Dumouriez was strikingly displayed. Having no longer to fight, he drew 
 up memorials for the King of Prussia, and demonstrated how disadvantage 
 ous it was to him to ally himself with the house of Austria against France. 
 At the same time he sent him a dozen pounds of coffee, being all that was 
 left in both camps. His memorials, which could not fail to be appreciated, 
 nevertheless met, as might naturally be expected, with a most unfavourable 
 reception. Brunswick replied, in the name of the King of Prussia, by a 
 declaration as arrogant as the first manifesto, and all negotiation was broken 
 -^if. The Assembly, consulted by Dumouriez, answered, like the Roman 
 senate, that they .vould not treat with the enemy till he had quitted 
 Frnnce. 
 
 These negotiations had no other effect than to bring calumny upon the 
 general, who was thenceforth suspected of keeping up a secret correspond- 
 ence with foreigners, and with a haughty monarch, humbled by the result 
 of the war. But such was Dumouriez. With abundant courage and intel- 
 ligence, he lacked that reserve, that dignity, which overawes men, while 
 genius merely conciliates them. However, as the French general had fore- 
 seen, by the 15th of October the Prussian army, unable to struggle longer 
 against want and disease, began to decamp. To Europe it was a subject of 
 profound astonishment, of conjectures, of I'ables, to see so mighty, so vaunted 
 an army, retreating before those raw artisans and tradesmen, who were to 
 have been led back with drums beating to their towns, and punished for hav- 
 ing quitted them. The sluggishness with which the Prussians were pursued, 
 and the kind of impunity which they enjoyed in repassing the defiles of the 
 Argonne, led to the supposition of secret stipulations and even a bargain with 
 the King of Prussia. The military facts will account for the retreat of the 
 allies better than all these suppositions. 
 
 It was no longer possible for them to remain in so unfortunate a position. 
 To continue the invasion in a season so far advanced and so inclement, would 
 be most injudicious. The only resource of the allies then was to retreat 
 towards Luxemburg and Lorraine, and there to make themselves a strong 
 base of operations for recommencing the campaign in the following year. 
 There is, moreover, reason to believe that at this moment Frederick William 
 was thinking of taking his share of Poland ; for it was then that this prince, 
 after exciting the Poles against Russia and Austria, prepared to share the 
 spoil. Thus the state of the season and of the country, disgust arising from 
 a foiled enterprise, regre .it having allied himself with the house of Austria 
 against France, and lastly, new interests in the North, were, with the King 
 of Prussia, motives sufficient to determine his retreat. It was conducted in 
 the best order, for the enemy wdio thus consented to depart was nevertheless 
 very strong.* To attempt absolutely to cut ofi' his retreat, and to oblige him 
 
 • "The force with which the Prussians retired, was about 70,000 men, and their retreat 
 was conducted throughout in the most imposing- manner, taking position, and facing about 
 on occasion of every halt. Verdun and Longwy were successi%'ely abandoned. On getting 
 possession of the ceded fortresses, the commissaries of the Convention took a bloody revenge 
 on the royalist party. Several young women who had presented garlands of flowers to the 
 King of Prussia during the advance of his army, were sent to the revolutionary tribunal, an J 
 condemned to death. The Prussians left behind them on their route most melancholy proofs 
 of the disa^iters of the campaign. All the villages were filled with the dead and dying. With- 
 out any coiisiderable fighting, the allies had lost by dysentery and fevers more than a fourth 
 of their numbers." — Alison. E. 
 
 "The Prussians had engaged in this campaign as if it had been a review, in which lighl 
 it bad been represented to them by the emigrants. They were unprovided with stores ot 
 provislnns; instead of an unprotected country, they found daily a more vigorous lesistaiico, 
 
382 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 to open himself a passage by a victory, would have been an imprudence 
 which Dumouriez would not commit. He was obliged to content himself 
 with harassing him, but this he did with too little activity, through his own 
 fault and that of Kellermann. 
 
 The danger was past, the campaign was over, and each reverted to hira 
 self and his projects. Dumouriez thought of his enterprise against the 
 Netherlands, Kellermfjin of his command at Metz, and the two generals did 
 not pa)'' to the pursuit of the Prussians that attention which it deserved. Du- 
 mouriez sent General d'Harville to the Chene-Populeux to chastise the emi 
 grants ; ordered General Miaczinski to wait for them at Stenay as they issued 
 from the pass, to complete their destruction ; sent Chasot in the same direc- 
 tion to occupy the Longwy road ; placed Generals Beurnonville, Stengel, 
 and Valence, with more than twenty-five thousand men, on the rear of the 
 grand army, to pursue it Avith vigour ; and at the same time directed Dillon, 
 who had continued to maintain his ground most successfully at the Islettes, 
 to advance by Clermont and Varennes, in order to cut ofT the road to Verdun. 
 
 These plans were certainly excellent, but they ought to have been executed 
 by the general himself. He ought, in the opinion of a very sound and com- 
 petent judge, M. Jomini, to have dashed straightforward to the Rhine, and 
 then to have descended it with his whole army. In that moment of success, 
 overthrowing everything before him, he would have conquered Belgium in a 
 single march. But he was thinking of returning to Paris, to prepare for an 
 invasion by way of Lille. The three generals, Beurnonville, Stengel, and 
 Valence, on their part, did not agree very cordially together, and pursued the 
 Prussians but fainli)^ Valence, who Avas under the command of Kellermann, 
 all at once received orders to return, to rejoin his general at Chiilons, and 
 then to take the road to Metz. This movement, it must be confessed, was 
 a strange conception, since it brought Kellermann back into the interior, to 
 make him thence resume the route to the Lorraine frontier. The natural 
 route would have been forward by Vitry or Clermont, and it would have 
 acconled Avith the pursuit of the Prussians, as ordered by Dumouriez, No 
 sooner Avas the latter apprized of the order given to Valence than he enjoined 
 him to continue his march, saying that, so long as the armies of the North 
 and c(mtre Avere united, the supreme command belonged to himself alone. 
 He remonstrated very warmly Avith Kellermann, Avho relinquished his first 
 determination, and consented to take his route by St. Menehould and Cler- 
 mont. The pursuit, hoAvever, Avas continued Avith as little spirit as before. 
 Dillon alone harassed the Prussians Avith impetuous ardour, and, by pursuing 
 them too vigorously, he had very nearly brought on an engagement. 
 
 The dissension of the generals, and the particular views Avhich occupied 
 their minds after the danger had passed, Avere evidently the only cause that 
 procured the Prussians so easy a retreat. It has been alleged that their de- 
 parmre Avas purchased ; that it was paid for by the produce of a great robbery, 
 of Avhich Ave shall presently give an account ; that it Avas concerted Avith Du- 
 mouriez ; and that one of the stipulations of the bargain Avas the free retreat of 
 the Prussians; and lastly, that Louis XVI. had, from the recesses of his pri- 
 son, insisted upon it. We have seen Avhat very sufficient reasons must have 
 occasioned this retreat; but, besides these, there are other reasons. It is not 
 credible that a monarch Avhose vices Avere not those of a base cupidity would 
 submit to be bought. We cannot see Avhy, in case of a convention, Dunvou- 
 
 the continual rains haJ laid open the roads; the soldiers marched in mud up to their knees 
 and for four days together they had no other nourishment than boiled corn." - Mignei. « 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 383 
 
 riez should not have justified himself in the eyes of military men, for not 
 having pursued tlie enemy, by avowing a convention in Avliich there was 
 nothing disgraceful to himself: lastly, Clery, the King's valet-de-chambrc, 
 asserts that nothing like the letter said to have been addressed by Louis XVL 
 to Frederick William, and transmitted by Manuel, the prociireur of the com- 
 mune, was ever written and delivered to the latter.* All this then is a false- 
 hood ; and the retreat of the allies was but a natural effect of the war. 
 Diimouriez, notwithstanding his faults, notwithstanding his distractions at 
 Grand-Prey, notwithstanding his negligence at the moment of the retreat, 
 was still the saviour of France, and of a revolution which has perliaps ad- 
 vanced Europe several centuries. It was he who, assuming the command 
 of a disorganized, distrustful, irritated army, infusing into it harmony and 
 confidence, establishing unity and vigour along that whole frontier, never 
 despairing amidst the most disastrous circumstances, holding forth, after the 
 loss of the defiles, an example of unparallelled presence of mind, persisting 
 in liis first ideas of temporizing, in spite of the danger, in spite of his army, 
 and in spite of his government, in a manner which demonstrates the vigour 
 of his judgment and of his character — it was he, we say, who saved our 
 country from foreign foes and from counter-revolutionary resentment, and 
 set the magnificent example of a man saving his fellow-citizens in spite of 
 themselves. Conquest, however vast, is neither more glorious nor more 
 moral. 
 
 * "It has been reported that Manuel came to the Temple, in the month of September, in 
 order to prevail upon his majesty to write to the King of Prussia, at the time he marched hig 
 army into Champagne. I can testify that Manuel came but twice to the Temple while I was 
 there, first on the 3d of September, then on the 7lh of October ; that each lime he was ao 
 companied by a great number of municipal officers ; and that he never had any private cosi* 
 versation with the King." — Ckry. E, 
 
S84 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 THE NATIONAL CONVENTION. 
 
 ASSEMBLING AND OPENING OF THE NATIONAL CONVENTICN— 
 
 INVASION OF BELGIUM. 
 
 While the French armies were stopping the march of the alhes, Paris 
 was still the theatre of disturbance and confusion. We have already wit- 
 nessed the excesses of the commune, the prolonged atrocities of September, 
 the impotence of the authorities, and the inactivity of the public force, during 
 those disastrous days. We have seen with what audacity the committee of 
 surveillance had avowed the massacres, and recommended the imitation of 
 them to all the other communes in France. The commissioners sent by the 
 commune had, however, been everywhere repelled, because France did not 
 participate in that fury which danger had excited in the capital. But in the 
 environs of Paris, all the murders were not confined to those of wliich we 
 have already given an account. There had been formed in that city a band 
 of assassins, whom the massacres of September had familiarized with blood, 
 and who were bent on spilling more. Some hundreds of men had already 
 set out with the intention of taking out of the prisons of Orleans the persons 
 accused of hi^h treason. A recent decree had directed that those unfortunate 
 prisoners should be conveyed to Saumur. Their destination was, however, 
 changed by the way, and they were brought towards Paris. 
 
 On the 9th of September, intelligence was received that they were to ar- 
 rive on the 10th at Versailles. Whether fresh orders had been given to the 
 band of murderers, or the tidings of this arrival was sufficient to excite their 
 sanguinary ardour, they immediately repaired to Versailles on the night be- 
 tween the 9th and 10th. A rumour was instantly circulated that fresh 
 massacres were about to be committed. The mayor of Versailles took every 
 precaution to prevent new atrocities. The president of the criminal tribunal 
 hastened to Paris, to inform Danton, the minister, of the danger which 
 threatened the prisoners ; but to all his representations he obtained no other 
 answer than, "Those men are very guilty." — "Granted," rejoined Alquier, 
 the president, "but the law alone ought to punish them." — "Do you not 
 see," resumed Danton, "that I would have already have answered you in 
 another manner if I could ? Why do you concern yourself about these 
 prisoners ? Return to your functions, and trouble your head no more with 
 them." 
 
 On the following day the prisoners arrived at Versailles. A crowd of 
 strange men rushed upon the carriages, surrounded and separated them from 
 the escort, knocked Fournier, the commandant, from his horse, carried oft' 
 the mayor, who had nobly determined to die at his post, and slaughtered the 
 unfortunate prisoners to the number of fifty-two. There perished Delessart, 
 and D'Abancour, placed under accusation as ministers, and Brissac, as com- 
 mander of the constitutional guard, disbanded in the time of the Legislative 
 A.8sembly. Immediately after this execution, the murderers ran to the prison 
 
% 
 
 {•) .A.;^I '"'I' u 1:^1 , 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 355 
 
 of the town, and renewed the scenes of tlie first days of September, employ- 
 ing the same means, and copying, as in Paris, the judicial forms.* This 
 event, happening wilhin hve days of tlic first, increased the consternation 
 which already pre\ailed. In Paris, the committee of surveillance did not 
 abate its activity. As the prisons had been just cleared by deatli, it began to 
 fill them again by issuing fresh orders of arrest. These orders were so nu- 
 merous, that Roland, minister of the interior, in denouncing to the Assembly 
 these new arljitrary acts, had from five to six hundred of them to lay on the 
 bureau, some signed by a single individual, others by two or tln-ee at most, 
 the greater part of them without any alleged motives, and many founded on 
 the bare suspicions o( hicivism. 
 
 While the commune was exercising its power in Paris, it despatched com- 
 missioners to the departments, for the purpose of justifying its conduct, ad- 
 vising the imitation of its example, recommending to the electors deputies 
 of its own choice, and decrying those who were averse to it in tlie Legislative 
 Assembly. It afterwards secured immense funds for itself, by seizing the 
 money found in die possession of Septeuil, tlie treasurer of the civil list, the 
 plate of the churclies, and the rich moveables of the emigrants, and lasdy, 
 by drawing considerable sums from the exchequer, under tlie pretext of 
 keeping up the fund of aids, (^caisse. dc sccours,) and completing the works 
 of the camp. All the effects of the unfortunate persons murdered in the 
 prisons of Paris, and on the road to Versailles, had been sequestrated, and 
 deposited in the extensive halls of the committee of .yurvei/lance. Never 
 would tlie commune furnish any statement either of those articles or their 
 value, and it c\en refused to give any answer concerning them, either to the 
 minister of the interior, or to the directory of the department, wliich, as we 
 have seen, had been converted into a mere commission of contributions. It 
 went still further, and began to sell on its own authority the furniture of the 
 great mansions, to which seals had been affixed ever since the departure of 
 the owners. To no purpose did the superior administration issue prohi- 
 bitions. The whole class of the subordinate functionaries charged with the 
 execution of its orders either belonged to the municipality, or Avas too weak 
 to act. The orders, therefore, were not carried into execution. 
 
 The national guard, composed anew under the denomination of armed 
 sections, and fulfof all sorts of men, was in a state of complete disorganiza- 
 tion. Sometimes it lent a hand to mischief, and at otliers sufli'ered it to be 
 committed by neglect. Posts were totally abandoned, because the men on 
 duty, not being relieved even at the expiration of forty-eight hours, retired, 
 worn out with fatigue and disgust. All the peaceable citizens had with- 
 
 * "As soon as the prisoners reached the grand square at Versailles, ten or twelve men laid 
 hold of the reins of the horses in the first wagon, crying out, "Off with their heads!" There 
 were a few curious spectators in the streets, but the whole escort was under txrms. Fifteen 
 assassins surrounded and attacked the first wagon, renewing the cries of death. The public 
 functionary, who had taken this wagon under his care, was the mayor of Versailles. He 
 attempted, but in vain, to harangue the murderers ; in vain did he get up into the wagon, and 
 use some efforts to guard and cover with his own person the two first of the prisoners who 
 were killed. The assassins, masters of the field of slaughter, killed, one after another, with 
 their swords and hangers, forty -seven out of fifty-three of the prisoners. This massacre lasted 
 for at least an hour and a quarter. The dead bodies experienced the same indignities as those 
 of the persons who had been massacred at the Abbey prison, and in the Tuileries. Theii 
 heads and limbs were cut off, and fixed upon the iron rails round the palace of Versaille* 
 When the assassins thought they had despatched all those who were accused of treast\n 
 against the state, they betook themselves to the prison at Versailles, where they killed about 
 twelve persons." — Peltier. E. 
 
 VOL. I. — 49 
 
386 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 drawn from that body, once so regnlar and so useful ; and Santerre, iti 
 commander, possessed neidier energy nor intelligence sufficient to or 
 ganize it. 
 
 The safety of Paris was thus abandoned to chance, and the commune on 
 one hand, and the populace on the other, had full scope to do what they 
 pleased. Among the spoils of royalty, the most valuable, and consequently 
 the most coveted, were those kept at the Garde Meuble, the rich depot of all 
 the effects which formerly contributed to the splendour of the throne. Ever 
 since the iOth of August, it had excited the cupidity of the multitude, and 
 more than one circumstance had sharpened the vigilance of the inspector of 
 the establishment. He had sent requisition after requisition for the purpose 
 of obtaining a sufficient guard ; but, whether from disorder, or from the diffi- 
 culty of supplying all the posts, or, lastly, from wilful negligence, he had not 
 been furnished with the force that he demanded. 
 
 One night, the Garde Meuble was robbed, and the greater part of its con- 
 tents passed into unknown hands, which the authorities afterwards made 
 useless efforts to discover. This new event was attributed to the persons 
 who had secretly directed the massacres. In this case, however, they could 
 not have been impelled either by fanaticism or by a sanguinary pohcy ; and 
 the ordinary motive of theft can scarcely be ascribed to them, since they had 
 in the stores of the commune wherewithal to satisfy the highest ambition. 
 It has been said, indeed, that this robbery was committed for the purpose of 
 paying for the retreat of the King of Prussia, which is absurd, and to defray 
 the expenses of the party, which is more probable, but by no means proved. 
 At any rate, the robbery at the Garde Meuble is of very little consequence 
 in regard to the judgment that must be passed upon the commune audits 
 leaders. It is not the less true that the commune, as the depository of pro- 
 perty of immense value, never rendered any account of it; that the seals 
 affixed upon the closets were broken without the locks being forced, which 
 indicates a secret abstraction and not a popular pillage ; and that all these 
 valuables disappeared for ever. Part was impudently stolen by subalterns, 
 such as Sergent, surnamed Agate^ from a superb jewel with which he 
 adorned himself; and another part served to defray the expense of the extra- 
 ordinary government which the commune had instituted. It was a war 
 waged against the old order of things, and every such war is sullied with 
 murder and pillage. 
 
 Such was the state of Paris while the elections for the National Conven- 
 tion were going forward. It was from this new assembly that the upright 
 citizens expected the means and energy requisite for restoring order. They 
 hoped that the forty days of confusion and crimes which had elasped since 
 the 10th of August, would be but an accident of the insurrection — a deplor- 
 able but transitory accident. The very deputies, sitting with such feebleness 
 in the National Assembly, deferred the exercise of energy till the meeting 
 of thac Convention — the common hope of all parties. 
 
 A warm interest was taken in the elections throughout France. The clubs 
 exercised a powerful influence over them. The Jacobins of Paris had 
 printed and distributed a list of all the votes given during the legislative ses- 
 sion, that it might serve as a guide to the electors. The deputies who had 
 voted against the laws desired by the popular party, and those in particular 
 who had acquitted Lafayette, were especially distinguished. In the pro- 
 vinces, however, to which animosities of the capital had not yet penetrated, 
 Girondins, and even such of them as were most odious to the agitators of 
 Paris, were chosen on account of the talents which they had displayed, 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 387 
 
 A^lmost all the members of the late Assembly were re-elected. Many of the 
 constituents, whom the decree of non-re-election had excluded from the first 
 legislature, were called to form part of this Convention. In the number were 
 distinguished Buzot and Petion. Among the new members naturally fio-ured 
 men noted in their departments for their energy or their violence, or writers 
 who, like Louvet, had acquired reputation by thSir talents both in the capital 
 and in the provinces. 
 
 In Paris, the violent faction which had domineered ever since the 10th of 
 August, seized the control over the elections, and brought forward all the 
 men of its choice. Robespierre and Danton were the first elected. The 
 Jacobins and the council of the commune hailed this intelligence with ap- 
 plause. After them were elected Camille Desmoulins, celebrated for his 
 writings ; David, for his pictures ;* Fabre-d'Eglantine,t for his comic works 
 and an active participation in the revolutionary disturbances ; Legendre, 
 Panis, Sergent, and Billaud-Varennes for their conduct at the commune. To 
 these were added Manuel, the procureur syndic; the younger Robespierre, 
 brother of the celebrated MaximiHen; Coliot-d'Herbois,J formerly an actor; 
 
 "J. L. David, a celebrated painter, elector of Paris in 1792, was one of the warmest 
 friends of Robespierre. He voted for the death of Louis XVL He contrived the Mountain 
 on which Robespierre gave a public festival in the field of Mars. In 1794 he presided in the 
 Convention. In 1800 the consuls made him the national artist, when he painted for the 
 Hospital of the Invalids a picture of General Bonaparte. In 1805 he was appointed to paint 
 the scene of the emperor's coronation. David was unquestionably the first French painter 
 of the modern school; and this consideration had some weight in obtaining his pardon in 
 1794, when he had been accused of being a Terrorist. A swelling which David had in his 
 cheeks rendered his features hideous. He was a member of the Legion of Honour; and his 
 daughter, in 1805, married a colonel of infantry." — Bioaraphie Moderne. E. 
 
 f " Fabre-d'Eglanline was a nati%'e of Carcassone. He was known at the commencement 
 of the Revolution by works which had little success, and since that time, by comedies not 
 destitute of merit; but, above all, by criminal conduct both as a public and a private man. 
 Of low birth, he possessed a vanity which rendered him intolerable. He could not endure 
 the nobility. While he was obliged to bend before it, he was content with abusing it, as he 
 could do no more : but when the course of events had placed him in a position to crush those 
 he hated, he rushed on them with the rage of a tiger, and tore them to pieces with delight. I 
 have heard him say, nearly like Caligula, that he wished the nobles had but one head, that 
 he might strike it off at a single blow. In 1793, during the trial of Louis XVI., he was soli- 
 cited to be favourable to that unfortunate prince. 'You will enjoy the pleasure of doing a 
 good action,' said the applicant. ' I know a pleasure far superior to that,' replied Fabre; 
 *it is the pleasure felt by a commoner in condemning a king to death.' " — Memoirs of a Peer 
 of France. E. 
 
 i " J, M. Collot-d'Herbois first appeared on the stage, and had little success. He played 
 at Geneva, at the Hague, and at Lyons, where, having been often hissed, he vowed the most 
 cruel vengeance against that town. The line of acting in which he played best was that of 
 tyrants in tragedies. He went to Paris at the beginning of the Revolution, and embiaced the 
 popular cause. Possessed of a fine face, a powerful voice, and great boldness, he became one 
 of the oracles at the Jacobin Club. He was no stranger to the September massacres. During 
 the King's trial he sat at the top of the Mountain, by Robespierre's side, and voted for the 
 monarch's death. It has been said of this man, who was surnamed the Tiger, that he 'vas 
 the most sanguinary of the Terrorists. In 1793 he took his departure for Lyons, protests 'd 
 that the South should soon be purified. It is from the time of this mission that his horrible 
 celebrity takes its rise. He sent for a column of the revolutionary army, and organized the 
 demolitions and the employment of cannon in order to make up for the slowness of the ^uil 
 lotine at Lyons. The victims, when about to be shot, were bound to a cord fixed to trees, 
 and a picket of infantry marched round the place, firing successively on the condemned. Tho 
 mitral Hades, the executions by artillery, took place in the Brotteaux. Those who were 
 destined for this punishment were ranged two by two on the edge of the ditches that nad 
 been dug to receive their bodies, and cannons, loaded with small bits of metal, were fired upon 
 them; after which, some troops of the revolutionary army despatched the wounded witk 
 
3Sb HISTORY OF THE 
 
 and the Duke of Orleans, who had relinquished his titles and called himself 
 Philippe Egalite. Lastly, after all these names there was seen with astonish* 
 ment that of old Dussaulx, one of the electors of 1789, who had so strongly 
 opposed the fury of the mob, and shed so many tears over its atrocities, and 
 who was re-elected from a last remembrance of 89, and as a kind inoffensive 
 creature to all parties. • 
 
 In this strange list there was only wanting the cynical and sanguinary 
 Marat. This singular man had, from the boldness of his writings, some- 
 thing about him that was surprising even to those who had just witnessed 
 the events of September. Chabot, the Capuchin, who by his energy bore 
 sway at the Jacobins, and there sought triumphs which were refused him in 
 the Legislative Assembly, was obliged to step forth as the apologist of Ma- 
 rat ; and as everything was discussed beforehand at the Jacobins, his election 
 proposed there was soon consummated in the electoral assembly. Marat, 
 Freron,'- another journalist, and a few more obscure individuals, completed 
 
 swords or bayonets. Two women and a young girl having solicited the pardon of their husr 
 banJs and brothers, CoIlot-d'Herbois had them bound on the scaffold where their relation* 
 expired, and their blood spouted out on them. On his return to Paris, being denounced to 
 the National Convention by petitioners from Lyons, he answ^ered, that ' the cannon had been 
 fired but once on sixty of the most guilty, to destroy them with a single stroke/ The Con- 
 vention approved of his measures, and ordered that his speech should be printed. In the year 
 1794, returning home at one o'clock in the morning, Collot was attacked by Admiral, who 
 fired at him twice with a pistol, but missed his aim. The importance which this adventure 
 gave him, both in the Convention of which he was nominated president, and elsewhere, 
 irritated the self-love of Robespierre, whom Collot afterwards denounced. In 1795 he was 
 transported to Guiana, where he endeavoured to stir up the blacks against the whites. Ho 
 died in the following year of a violent fever, which was increased by his drinking a bottle of 
 brandy. Collot published some pamphlets and several theatrical pieces, but none of them 
 deserve notice." — Biographic Moderne. E. 
 
 * " L, S. Freron was son of the journalist Freron, the antagonist of Voltaire and of the 
 philosophic sect. Brought up at the college Louis-le-Grand with Robespierre, he became in 
 the Revolution his friend, his emulator, and, at last, his denouncer. In 1789 he began to 
 edit the 'Orator of the People,' and became the coaJjutor of Marat. Being sent with Barras 
 on a mission to the South, he displayed extreme cruelty and activity. On their arrival at 
 Marseilles, in 1793, they published a proclamation announcing that Terror was the order of 
 the day, and that to save Marseilles, and to rase Toulon, were the aims of their labours. 
 ' Things go on well here,' wrote Freron to Moses Bayle ; we have required twelve thousand 
 masons to rase the town ; every day since our arrival we have caused two hundred heads to 
 fall, and already eight hundred Toulonese have been shot. All the great measures have been 
 neglected at Marseilles ; if they had only shot eight hundred conspirators, as has been done 
 here, and had appointed a committee to condemn the rest, we should not have been in the 
 condition we now are." It was at first intended to put to death all who had accepted any 
 office, or borne arras, in the town during the siege. Freron consequently signified to them 
 thikt they must all go, under pain of death, to the Champ de Mars. The Toulonese, thinking 
 to obtain pardon by this submission, obeyed, and eight thousand persons were assembled at 
 the appointed place. All the representatives (Barras, Salicetti, Ricord, Robespierre the 
 younger, &c.) were shocked at the sight of this multitude ; Freron himself, surrounded by a 
 formidable train, saw these numerous victims with terror; at last, by the advice of Barras, a 
 jury was appointed, and a great number of the most guilty instantly shot. The shooting 
 with muskets being insufficient, they had afterwards recour.se to the mitraillade; and it was 
 in another execution of this nature, that Freron, in order to despatch the victims who had 
 liot perished by the first discharge, cried out, ' Let those who are still living, rise ; the republic 
 pardons them.' Some unhappy creatures trusting to this promise, he caused them to be im- 
 mediately fired upon. On quitting Toulon, Freron went with his coadjutors to finish the 
 depopulation of Marseilles, which they declared a commune without a name, and where they 
 destroyed more than 400 individuals, by means of a criminal tribunal, and afterwards of a 
 military committee. At the same time they caused the finest edifices of the city to be der 
 fctroyed. Returning from his proconsulship, Freron soon became an object of suspicion to 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 389 
 
 that famous deputation, which, embracing mercantile men, a butcher, an 
 actor, an engraver, a painter, a lawyer, three or four writers, an^^ an abdicated 
 prince, correcdy represented the confusion and the various classes which 
 were struggling in the immense capital of France. 
 
 The deputies arrived successively in Paris, and, in proportion as their num 
 ber increased, and the days which had produced such profound terror became 
 more remote, people began to muster courage, and to exclaim against the 
 excesses of the capital. The fear of the enemy was diminished by the atti- 
 tude of Dumouriez in the Argonne. Hatred of the aristocrats was converted 
 into pity, since the horrible sacrifice of them at Paris and Versailles. These 
 atrocities, which had found so many mistaken approvers or so many timid 
 ccnsurcrs — these atrocities, rendered still more hideous by the robbery which 
 had just been added to murder, excited general reprobation. The Girondins, 
 indignant at so many crimes, and exasperated by the personal oppression to 
 which they had been subjected for a whole month, became more firm and 
 more energetic. Resplendent by their talents and courage in the eyes of 
 France, invoking justice and humanity, they could not but have public opinion 
 in their favour, and they already began loudly to threaten thejr adversaries 
 with its influence. 
 
 If, however, all alike condemned the outrages perpetrated in Paris, they 
 did not all feel and excite those personal resentments which imbitter party 
 animosities. Possessing intelligence and talents, Brissot produced consider 
 able efTect, but he had neither suflrcient personal consideration nor sufficient 
 ability to be the leader of a party, and the hatred of Robespierre aggrandized 
 him by imputing to him that character. When, on the days preceding the 
 insurrection, the Girondins wrote a letter to Bose, the King's painter, the 
 rumour of a treaty was circulated, and it was asserted that Brissot was going 
 to set out for London laden with money. The rumour Avas unfounded ; but 
 Marat, with whom the slightest and even tlie falsest reports were a sufll- 
 cient ground for accusation, had nevertheless issued an order for the appre- 
 hension of Brissot, at the time of the general imprisonment of the alleged 
 conspirators of the 10th of August, A great sensation Avas the consequence, 
 and the order had not been carried into effect. The Jacobins, nevertheless, 
 persisted in asserting that Brissot had sold himself to Brunswick. Robes- 
 pierre repeated and believed this, so disposed was his warped judgment to 
 believe those guilty who were hateful to him. Lou vet had equally excited 
 his hatred for making himself second to Brissot at the Jacobins and m tlie 
 Journal de la Scnfincllc, Louvet, possessing extraordinary talent and bold- 
 ness, made direct attacks upon individuals. His virulent personalities, re- 
 newed every day tlirough the channel of a journal, made him the most dan- 
 gerous and the most detested enemy of Robespierre's party, 
 
 Roland, the minister, had displeased the whole Jacobin and municipal party 
 by his courageous letter of the 3d of September, and by his resistance to the 
 encroachments of the commune ; but he had never been the rival of any 
 individual, and excited no other anger than that of opinion. He had person- 
 
 Kobespierre, whom he attacked in return, and contributed greatly to his ruin. From this 
 period he showed himself the enemy of the Terrorists, and pursued (hem with a fury worthy 
 of a former companion. He proposed in the Convention that death should no longer be 
 inflicted for revolutionary crimes, except for emigration, promotion of the royal cause, and 
 military treason, and that transportation should be substituted instead. At the time ot tha 
 expedition to St. Domingo in 1802, Freron was appointed prefect of the South, and vveiil 
 with General Leclerc; but he sunk under the influence of the cUmate, after an illness of aix 
 days." — Biographic Modtrne. E. 
 
300 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 ally offended none but Danton, by opposing him in the council, and there 
 was but little danger in so doing, for, of all men living, Danton was the one 
 whose resentment was least to be dreaded. But in the person of Roland it 
 was his wife who was principally detested — his wife, a proud, severe, cou- 
 rageous, clever woman, rallying around her those highly-cultivated and bril- 
 liant Girondins, animating them by her looks, rewarding them with her 
 esteem, and keeping up in her circle, along with republican simplicity, a 
 politeness hateful to vulgar and obscure men. These already strove to make 
 Roland the butt of their low ridicule. His wife, they said, governed for him, 
 directed his friends, and even recompensed them with her favours. Marat, 
 in his ignoble language, styled her the Circe of the party.* 
 
 Guadet, Vergniaud, and Gensonne, though they had shed great lustre on 
 the Legislative Assembly, and opposed the Jacobin party, had, nevertheless, 
 not yet roused all the animosity which they subsequently excited. Guadet 
 had even pleased the energetic republicans by his bold attacks upon Lafayette 
 and the court. Guadet, ardent, and ever ready to dash forward, could dis- 
 play at one moment the utmost vehemence, and in the next, the greatest 
 coolness ; and, master of himself in the tribune, he distinguished himself 
 there by his seasonable and spirit-stirring harangues. Accordingly, he, like 
 all other men, could not but delight in an exercise in which he excelled, nay, 
 even abuse it, and take too much pleasure in launching out against a party 
 which was soon destined to stop his mouth by death. 
 
 Vergniaud had not gained so much favour with violent spirits as Guadet, 
 because he had not shown such hostility to the court ; but, on the other 
 hand, he had run less risk of offending them, because, in his ease and care- 
 lessness, he had not jostled others so much as his friend Guadet. So little 
 was this speaker under the sway of the passions, that they allowed him to 
 take his nap quietly amidst the contentions of parties ; and, as they did not 
 urge him to outstrip others, they exposed him but little to their hatred. He 
 was, however, by no means indifferent. He had a noble heart, a sound and 
 lucid understanding, and the sluffg-ish fire of his being", kindling it at times, 
 warmed and elevated him to the most sublime energy. He had not the same 
 briskness of repartee as Guadet, but he became animated in the tribune, 
 where he poured forth a torrent of eloquence ; and, owing to the flexibihty 
 of an extraordinary voice, he delivered his thoughts with a facility and a 
 fecundity of expression unequalled by any other member. The elocution 
 of Mirabeau was, like his character, coarse and unequal; that of Vergniaud, 
 always elegant and noble, became, with circumstances, grand and energetic. 
 But all the exhortations of Roland's wife were not always capable of rousing 
 this champion, frequently disgusted with mankind, frequently opposed to the 
 imprudence of his friends, and, above all, by no means convinced of the uti- 
 lity of words against force. 
 
 Gensonne, full of good sense and integrity, but endowed with a moderate 
 facility of expression, and capable only of drawing up good reports, had not 
 as yet distinguished himself in the tribune. Strong passions, however, and 
 
 * " To a very beautiful person, Mailame Roland united great powers of intellect; herrepu- 
 •■ation stood very high, and her friends never spoke of her but with the most profound respect. ' 
 In character she was a Cornelia ; and, had she been blessed with sons, would have edu- 
 cated them nice the Gracchi. The simplicity of her dress did not detract from her natural 
 grace and elegance : and, while her pursuits were more adapted to the other sex, she adorned 
 them with all the charms of her own. Her personal memoirs are admirable. They are 
 tn imitation of Rousseau's Confessions, and often not unworthy of the original." — Dtt 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 391 
 
 an obstinate character, could not but gain him considerable influence amono 
 his friends, and from his enemies that hatred which is always excited more 
 by a man's character than by his talents. 
 
 Condorcet, once a marquis, and always a philosopher, a man of elevatec' 
 mind, an unbiassed judge of the faults of his party, unqualified for tha 
 terrible agitations of democracy, and who had taken no pains to push himself 
 forward, had as yet no direct enemy on his own account, and reserved him- 
 self for all those kinds of labour which required profound meditation. 
 
 Buzot,' endued with good sense, elevation of soul, and courage, combining 
 a firm and simple elocution with a handsome face, awed the passions by the 
 nobleness of his person, and exercised the greatest moral ascendency on all 
 around him. 
 
 Barbaroux, elected by his fellow-citizens, had just arrived from the South 
 with one of his friends, like himself a deputy to the National Convention. 
 The name of this friend was Rebecqui. With a mind but little cultivated, 
 he was bold and enterprising and wholly devoted to Barbaroux. It will be 
 recollected that the latter worshipped Roland and Petion, that he looked 
 upon Marat as an atrocious maniac, and Robespierre as an ambitious man, 
 especially ever since Petion had proposed the latter to him as an indis- 
 pensable dictator. Disgusted with the crimes committed during his absence, 
 he was ready to impute them to men whom he already detested, and he 
 spoke out, immediately after his arrival, with an energy which rendered 
 reconciliation impossible. Inferior to his friends in the qualities of mind, 
 but endued with intelligence and facility, handsome, heroic, he vented him- 
 self in threats, and in a few days drew upon himself as much hatred as 
 those who, during the whole existence of the Legislative Assembly, had 
 never ceased to wound opinions and their holders. 
 
 The person around whom the whole party rallied, and who then enjoyed 
 universal respect, was Petion. Mayor during the legislature, he had, by his 
 struggle with the court, gained immense popularity. He had, it is true, on 
 the 9th of August, preferred deliberation to combat; he had since declared 
 against the deeds of September, and had separated himself from the com- 
 mune, as did Bailly, in 1790 ; but tliis quiet and silent opposition, without 
 embroiling him still more with the faction, had rendered him formidable to 
 it. Possessing an enlarged understanding, and a calm mind, speaking but 
 seldom, and never pretending to rival any one in talent, he exercised over 
 all, and over Robespierre himself, the ascendency of a cool, equitable, and 
 universally respected reason. Tliough a reputed Girondin, all the parties 
 were anxious for his suifrage. All feared him, and in the new Assembly he 
 had in his favour not only the right side, but the whole central mass, and 
 even many of the members of the left side. 
 
 Such then was the situation of the Girondins in presence of the Parisian 
 
 • "F. N. L. Buzot was born at Evreux in 17G0, and was an advocate in that city at the 
 time of llie Revolution, which he embraced with ardour. In 1792 he was deputed by the 
 Eure to the National Assembly. At the time of the King's trial he voted for his death, 
 though not for his immediate execution, and he was even one of those who most warmly 
 solicited a reprieve for him. In the March following, he more than once gave warning of 
 the despotism of the mob of Paris, and ended one of his speeches by threatening tliat city 
 with the sight of the grass growing in the streets if confusion should reign there much longer, 
 In April he contended against the Jacobins, who, he said, were influenced by tuen of blood. 
 Having been denounced as a Girondin, he made his escape from Paris, and after wandering 
 about some time, was found, together with Pelion, dead in a field, and half-eaton by evolves/ 
 — Biographie Moderne. E 
 
392 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 faction. They possessed the public opinion, which condemned the lata 
 excesses ; they had gained a great part of the deputies who were daily 
 arriving in Paris ; they had all the ministers, excepting Danton, who fre- 
 quently governed the council, but did not employ his power against them ; 
 lastly, they could boast of having at their head the mayor of Paris, than 
 whom none was at the moment more highly respected. But in Paris they 
 were not at home. They were in the midst of their enemies, and they had 
 to apprehend the violence of the lower classes, which were agitated beneath 
 them, and, above all, the violence of the future, which was soon to increase 
 along with the revolutionary passions. 
 
 The first reproach levelled at them was, that they wanted to sacrifice Paris. 
 A design of seeking refuge in the departments and beyond the Loire had 
 already been imputed to them. The wrongs done them by Paris, having 
 been aggravated since the 2d and 3d of September, they were, moreover, 
 accused of an intention to forsake it ; and it was alleged that they wished to 
 assemble the Convention in some other place. These suspicions, gi-adually 
 arranging themselves, assumed a more regular form. It was pretended thai 
 the Girondins were desirous to break the national unity, and to form out of 
 the eighty-three departments as many states, all equal among themselves, 
 and united by a mere federative compact. It was added that by this mea- 
 sure they meant to destroy the supremacy of Paris, and to secure for them- 
 selves a personal domination in their respective departments. Then it was, 
 that the calumny of federalism was devised. It is true, that when France 
 was threatened with invasion by the Prussians, they had thought of intrench- 
 ing themselves, in case of necessity, in the southern departments ; it is 
 likewise true that, on beholding the atrocities and tyraimy of Paris, they had 
 sometimes turned their eyes to the departments : but between this point and 
 the plan of a federative system, there v/as a very great distance. And, 
 besides, as all the difference between a federative government and a single 
 and central government consists in the greater or less energy of the local 
 institutions, the crime of such an idea was extremely vague, if it had any 
 existence. 
 
 The Girondins, perceiving nothing culpable in this idea, did not disavow 
 it ; and many of them, indignant at the absurd manner in which tliis system 
 was condemned, asked if, after all, the new American States, Holland, and 
 Switzerland, were not free and happy under a federative government, and 
 if there would be any great error, any mighty crime, in preparing a similar 
 lot for France. Buzot, in particular, frequently maintained this doctrine : 
 and Brissot, a warm admirer of the Americans, likewise defended it, rather 
 as a philosophic opinion than as a project applicable to France. These con- 
 versations being divulged, gave greater weight to the calumny of federalism. 
 At the Jacobins, the question of a federal system was gravely discussed, and 
 a thousand furious passions were kindled against the Girondins. It was 
 alleged that they wished to destroy the fasces of the revolutionary power, to 
 take from it that unity which constituted its sti-ength : and this for the pur- 
 pose of making themselves kings in their respective provinces. 
 
 The Girondins, on their part, replied by reproaches in which there was 
 more reality, but which unfortunately were likewise exaggerated, and which 
 lost in force, in proportion as they lost in truth. They repx-oached the com- 
 mune with having made itself the supreme authority, with having by its 
 usurpations encroached on the national sovereignty, and with liaving arro- 
 gated to itself alone a power which belonged only to entire France. They 
 loproiche.d it with a design to rule the Convention, in the same manner as 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 393 
 
 it had oppressed the Legislative Assembly. They declared that it would be 
 unsafe for the national representatives to sit beside it, and that they would 
 be sitting amidst the murderers of September. They accused it o( havin» 
 dishonoured tlie Revolution during the forty days succeeding the lOlh oi 
 August, and with having selected for deputies of Paris none but men who 
 had signalized themselves during those horrible saturnalia. 
 
 So far all was true. But they added reproaches as vague as those whicl) 
 (Lie federalists addressed to themselves. Marat, Danton, and RobespieiTe, 
 were loudly accused of aspiring to the supreme power : Marat, because he 
 was daily urging in his writings the necessity for a dictator, who should lop 
 off fr(n'n society the impure members who corrupted it ; Robespierre, because 
 he had dogmatized at the commune and spoken with insolence to the Assem 
 bly, and because, on the evening before tlie 10th of August, Panis had pro- 
 posed him to Barbaroux as dictator; lastly, Danton, because he exercised 
 over the ministry, over the people, and wherever he appeared, the influence 
 of a mighty being. They were called the triumvirs, and yet they had no 
 sort of connexion with each other. Marat was but a S3^stematic madman. 
 Robespierre was as yet but a jealous, for he had not the greatness of mind 
 to be an ambitious man. Danton, finally, was an active man, zealously 
 intent on promoting the aim of the Revolution, and who meddled Avith 
 everything rather from ardour than from personal ambition. But in none of 
 these men was there yet either a usurper, or a conspirator, in understanding 
 with the others ; and it was imprudent to give to adversaries already stronger 
 than the accusers, the advantage of being accused unjustly. The Girondins, 
 however, showed much less bitterness against Danton, because there had 
 never been any thing personal between themselves and him, and tliey despised 
 Marat too much to attack him directly ; but they fell foul of Robespierre 
 •without mercy, because they were more exasperated by the success of Avhat 
 was called his virtue and his eloquence. Against him they entertained that 
 resentment wliich is felt by real superiority against proud and too highly 
 extolled msdiocrit}'-. 
 
 An attempt to brinir about a better understanding was nevertheless made 
 before the opening of the National Convention, and several meetings were 
 held, in which it was proposed that the different parties should frankly ex- 
 plain themselves and put an end to mischievous disputes. Danton entered 
 sincerely into this arrangement, because he carried with him no pride, and 
 desired above all thing's the success of the Revolution. Petion showed grreat 
 coolness and sound reason ; but Robespierre was peevish as an injured man; 
 the Girondins were haughty and severe as innocent persons, who feel that 
 they have been offended, and conceive that they hold in their hands the sure 
 power of revenge. Barbaroux said that any alliance between crime and 
 virtue was utterly impossible ; and all the parties were much further from a 
 reconciliation when they separated, than before they met. All the Jacobins 
 rallied around Robespierre ; the Girondins, and the prudent and moderate 
 mass around Petion. It was recommended by the latter and by all sensible 
 persons to drop all accusation, since it was impossible to discover the authors 
 of the massacres of September and of the robbery at the Garde-Meubie ; to 
 say no more about the triumvirs, because their ambition was neither sufP 
 ciently proved, nor sufficiently manifested to be punished; to despise tho 
 Bcore of bad characters introduced into the Assembly by the elections of 
 Paris ; and lasdy, to lose no time in fulfilling the object of the Convention, 
 by forming a constitution and deciding the fate of Louis XVL 
 
 Such Avere the sentiments of men of cool minds ; but others less calm de- 
 
 voL. I. — 50 
 
394 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 vised, as usual, plans which, as they could not yet be put in execution, wer« 
 attended with the danger of warning and irritating their adversaries. Thev 
 proposed to cashier the municipality, to remove the Convention in case of 
 need, to transfer its seat from Paris to some other place, to constitute it a 
 court of justice for the purpose of trying the conspirators without appeal, 
 and lastly, to raise a particular guard for it, selected from the eighty-three 
 departments. These plans led to no result, and served only to irritate the 
 passions. The Girondins relied upon the public feeling, which, in their 
 opinion, would be roused by the strain of their eloquence and by the recital 
 of the crimes which they should have to denounce. They appointed the 
 tribune" of the Convention for their place of rendezvous, for the purpose of 
 crushing; their adversaries. 
 
 At length, on the 20th of September, the deputies to the Convention met 
 at tlie Tuileries, in order to constitute the new Assembly. Their number 
 being sufficient, they constituted themselves ad interim, verified their powers, 
 and immediately proceeded to the nomination of tlie bureau. Petion was 
 almost unanimously proclaimed president, Brissot, Condorcet, Rabaud St. 
 Etienne, Lasource, Vergniaud, and Camus, were elected secretaries. These 
 appointments prove what influence the Girondin party then possessed in the 
 Assembly. 
 
 The Legislative Assembly, which had sat permanently ever since the 10th 
 of August, was apprized on the 21st by a deputation that the National Con- 
 vention was formed and that the Legislature was dissolved. The two 
 assemblies had but to blend themselves into one, and the Convention took 
 possession of the hall of the Legislative Assembly. 
 
 On the 21st, Manuel, procureur syndic of the commune, suspended after 
 the 20th of June with Petion, wlio had become highly popular in conse- 
 quence of this suspension, and who had then enlisted among the fnrious 
 spirits of the commune, but afterwards withdrawn from them and joined the 
 Girondins at the sight of the massacres at the Abbaye — Manuel made a mo- 
 tion which excited a strong sensation among the enemies of the Gironde. 
 *' Citizens representatives," said he, " in this place everything ought to be 
 stamped with a character of such dignity and grandeur as to fill the world 
 with awe. I propose that the president of France have the national palace 
 of the Tuileries assigned for his residence, that he be preceded by the public 
 force and the insignia of the law, and that the citizens rise at his appear- 
 ance." At these words, Chabot the Jacobin, and Tallien, secretary of the 
 commune, inveighed with vehemence against this ceremonial, borrowed from 
 royalty. Chabot said that the representatives of the people ought to assimi- 
 late themselves to the citizens from whose ranks they issued, to the sans- 
 culottes who formed the majority of the nation. Tallien added that they 
 ought to go to a fifth story in quest of a president, for it was there that genius 
 and virtue dwelt. Manuel's motion was consequently rejected, and the 
 enemies of the Gironde allege that that party wished to decree sovereign 
 honours to Petion, its chief. 
 
 This proposition was succeeded by a gre: it number of others without in- 
 terruption. In all quarters there was a desire to ascertain by authentic 
 declarations the sentiments which animated the Assembly and France. It 
 was required that the new constitution should have absolute equality for its 
 foundation ; that the sovereignty of the people should be decreed ; that 
 natred should be sworn to royalty, to a dictatorship, to a triumvirate, to every 
 individual authority ; and that the penalty of death should be decreed againsi 
 811V one who should propose such a form of government. Danton put an 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 395 
 
 end to all the motions by causing a decree to be passed, declaring that the 
 new constitution should not be valid till it had been sanctioned by the people. 
 It was added that the existing laws should continue in force ad interim, that 
 the authorities not superseded should be meanwhile retained, and that the 
 taxes should be '•aised as heretofore, till new systems of contribution were 
 introduced. After these motions and decrees, Manuel, Collot-d'Herbois, and 
 Gregoire, brought forward the question of royalty, and insisted that its abo- 
 lition should be forthwith pronounced. The people, said they, has just been 
 declared sovereign, but it will not be really so till you have delivered it from 
 a rival authority — that of kings. The Assembly, the tribunes, rose to express 
 their unanimous reprobation of royalty. Bazire, however, wished, he said, 
 for a solemn discussion of so important a question. "What need is there 
 for discussion," replied Gregoire, " when all are agreed? Courts are the 
 hotbed of crime, the focus of corruption ; the history of kings is the martyr- 
 ology of nations. Since we are all equally penetrated with these truths, 
 what need is there for discussion?" 
 
 The discussion was accordingly closed. Profound silence ensued, and 
 by the unanimous desire of the Assembly, the president declared that royalty 
 was abolished in France. This decree was hailed with universal applause ; 
 it was ordered to be published forthwith, and sent to the armies and to all 
 the municipalities.* 
 
 When this institution of the republic was proclaimed, the Prussians were 
 still threatening the French territory. Dumouriez, as we have seen, had 
 proceeded to St. Menehould, and the cannonade of the 21st, so favourable 
 to our arms, was not yet known in Paris. On the following day, the 22d, 
 Billaud-Varennes proposed not to date any longer the year 4 of liberty, but 
 the year 1 of the republic. This motion was adopted. The year 1789 
 was no longer considered as having commenced liberty, and the new repub- 
 lican era began on that very day, the 22d of September, 1792. 
 
 In the evening the news of the cannonade of Valmi arrived and diffused 
 general joy. On the petition of the citizens of Orleans, who complained of 
 their magistrates, it was decreed that there should be a new election of 
 
 * " On the 2 1st of September, at four o'clock in the afternoon, Lubin, a municipal office/, 
 attended by horsemen and a great mob, came before (he Tower to make a proclamation. 
 Trumpets were sounded, and a dead silence ensued. Lubin's voice was of the stentorian 
 kind. The royal family could distinctly hear the proclamation of the abolition of royalty, 
 and of the establishment of a republic. Hebert, so well known by the name of Pere-Duchene, 
 and Destournelles, since made minister of the public contributions, were then on guard over 
 the family. They were sitting at the time near the door, and rudely stared the King in the 
 face. The monarch perceived it, but, having a book in his hand, continued to read, without 
 suffering the smallest alteration to appear in his countenance. The Queen displayed equal 
 resolution. At the end of the proclamation, the trumpets sounded again, and I went to the 
 window. The eyes of the populace were immediately turned upon me; I was taken for my 
 royal master, and overwhelmed with abuse. The same evening, I informed the King that 
 curtains and more clothes were wanting for the dauphin's bed, as the weather began to be 
 cold. He desired me to write the demand for them, which he signed. I used the same ex- 
 pressions that I had hitherto done — 'The King requires for his son,' and so forth. 'It is a 
 great piece of assurance in you,' said Destournelles, 'thus to persist in a title, abolished by 
 the will of the people, as you have just heard.' I replied, that I had heard a proclamation, 
 but was unacquainted with the object of it. ' It is,' rejoined he, 'for the abolition of royalty; 
 and you may tell the gentleman — pointing to the King — 'to give over taking a title, no 
 ionger acknowledged by the people.' I told him I could not alter this note, which was already 
 signed, as the King would ask me the reason, and it was not my part to tell him. ' Vo» 
 will do as you like,' continued Destournelles, * but I shall not certify the demand.' "- 
 Ckry. E. 
 
3^6 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 members of the adm.inistrative bodies and of the tribunals, and that the con« 
 ditions of eligibility fixed by the constitution of 1791 should be considered 
 as null. It was no longer necessary to select judges from among the law- 
 yers, or administrators from a certain class of proprietors. The Legislative 
 Assembly had already abolished the marc of silver, and extended the electo 
 ral qualificaiion to all citizens who had attained the age of majority. 
 
 The Convention now removed the last demarcations, by calling all the 
 citizens to all the functions of every kind. Thus was introduced the system 
 of absolute equality.* 
 
 On the 23d, all the ministers were' heard. Cambon, the deputy, made a 
 report on the state of the finances. The preceding assemblies had decreed 
 the issue of assignats to the amount of two thousand seven hundred millions ; 
 two thousand five hundred millions had been expended ; there remained twc 
 hundred millions, of which one hundred and seventy-six were yet to be 
 made, and the other twenty-four were still in the exchequer. The taxes 
 were withheld by the departments for the purchase of corn ordered by the 
 last Assembly ; fresh extraordinary resources were required. The mass of 
 the national property being daily increased by emigration, the Convention 
 was not afraid to issue paper representing that property, neither did it hesi- 
 tate to do so. A new creation of assiofnats was therefore ordered. 
 
 Roland was heard on the state of France and of the capital. Equally 
 severe and still bolder than on the 3d of September, he expatiated with 
 energy on the outrages in Paris, their causes, and the means of preventing 
 them. He recommended the prompt institution of a strong and vigorous 
 government, as the only guarantee of order in free states. His report, 
 listened to with favour, was followed by applause, but nevertheless excited 
 no explosion among those who considered themselves as accused where it 
 treated of the disturbances in Paris. 
 
 But scarcely was this first survey taken of the state of France, when 
 news arrived of the breaking out of commotions in certain departments. 
 Roland addressed a letter to the Convention, denouncing these fresh outrages 
 and demanding their repression. As soon as this letter was read, the depu- 
 ties Kersaint and Buzot rushed to the tribune to denounce the acts of vio- 
 lence of all sorts that began to be everywhere committed. " The murders,' 
 said they, " are imitated in the departments. It is not anarchy that must be 
 accused of them, but tyrants of a new species, who are raising themselves 
 above scarcely-emancipated France. It is from Paris that these fatal 
 exhortations to crime are daily emanating. On all the walls of the capital 
 are posted bills instigating to murder, to conflagration, to pillage, and lists 
 of proscriptions, in which new victims are daily pointed out. How are the 
 people to be preserved from the most abject wretchedness, if so many 
 citizens are doomed to keep themselves concealed ? How make France 
 
 * " The name of citizen was now the universal salutation among all classes. Even when 
 a deputy spoke of a shoeblack, that symbol of equality was regularly exchanged between 
 them ; and in the ordinary intercourse of society, there was a ludicrous affectation of repub* 
 lican brevity and simplicity. ' When thou conquerest Brussels,' said CoIlet-d'Herbois, the 
 actor, to General Duniouricz, ' my wife, who is in that city, has permission to reward thee 
 with a kiss.' Three weeks afterwards the general took Brussels, but he was ungallant 
 enough not to profit by this flattering permission. His quick wit caught the ridicule of such 
 on ejaculation as that which Camus addressed to him. * Citizen-general,' said the deputy, 
 ' thou dost meditate the part of Cresar, but remember, I will be Brutus, and plunge a poniard 
 into thy bosom.' — ' My dear Camus,' replied the lively soldier, who had been in worse dan- 
 gers than were involved in this classical threat, ' I am no more like Csesar than you are lik« 
 Brutus ; and an assurance that I should live till you kill me would be equal to a brevet of 
 immortality." — Scott's Life of Napoleon. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 391 
 
 hope for a constitution, if the Convention, which ought to decree it, delibe- 
 rates under uplifted daggers ? A stop must, for the honour of the Revolution, 
 be put to all these excesses, and a distinction made betv/een the civic bravery 
 which defied despotism on the 10th of August, and the cruelty which, on 
 the 2d and 3d of September, obeyed a mute and hidden tyranny." 
 
 The speakers, in consequence, proposed the establishment of a committeo 
 for the purpose — 
 
 1. Of rendering an account of the state of the republic, and of Paris 
 in particular; 
 
 2. Of presenting a projet de loi against the instigators of murder and 
 assassination ; 
 
 3. Of reporting on the means of placing at the disposal of the National 
 Convention a public force raised in the eighty-three departments. 
 
 On this motion, all the members of the left side, on which were ranged 
 the most ardent spirits of the new assembly, set up tumultuous shouts. The 
 evils prevailing in France were, according to them, exaggerated. The 
 hypocritical complaints, which they had just heard, issued from the depths 
 of the dungeons in which were justly immured those suspected persons 
 who, for three years, had been invoking civil war upon their country. 
 The evils complained of were inevitable. The people were in a state of re- 
 volution, and it was their duty to take energetic measures for their welfare. 
 Those critical moments were now past, and the declarations just issued 
 by the Convention would suffice to allay the disturbances. Besides, where- 
 fore an extraordinary jurisdiction? The old laws were still in force, and 
 were suflicient for provocations to murder. Was it a new martial law that 
 members were desirous of establishino"? 
 
 By a contradiction very common among parties, those who had demanded 
 tlie extraordinary jurisdiction of the 17th of August, those who were about 
 10 demand that of the revolutionary tribunal, inveighed against a law which, 
 they said, was a law of blood. "A law of blood!" exclaimed Kersaint; 
 " when it is, on the contrary, the spilling of blood that I wish to prevent !" 
 An adj*rurnment, however, was vehemently called for. "To adjourn the 
 repression of murders," cried Vergniaud, "is to order them. The foes of 
 France are in arms upon our territory, and you would have the French citizens, 
 instead of fighting them, slaughter one another like the soldiers of Cadmus !" 
 
 At length the motion of Kersaint and Buzot was adopted entire. A decree 
 was passed that laws should be prepared for the punishment of instigators to 
 murder, and for the organization of a departmental guard. 
 
 This sitting of the 24th had caused a great agitation in the public mind ; 
 yet no name had been mentioned, and the charges brought forward were but 
 general. Next day, the deputies met with all the resentments of the preced- 
 ing day rankling within them, the one party murmuring against the decrees 
 that had been passed, the other regretting that it had not said enough against 
 what it termed the disorganizing faction. While some thus attacked aj.d 
 others defended the decrees, Merlin, formerly usher and municipal officer of 
 Thionville, afterwards a member of the Legislative Assembly, where he 
 signalized himself among the most determined patriots — Merlin, famous for 
 his ardour and his intrepidity, demanded permission to speak. " The order 
 of the day," said he, " is to ascertain if, as Lasource yesterday assured me, 
 there exists in the bosom of the National Convention a faction desirous of 
 establishing a triumvirate or a dictatorship. Let all suspicions cease, or let 
 Lasource point out the guilty persons, and I swear to stab them before the 
 facB of the Assembly." Lasource, thus pointedly called upon to expjaip 
 
398 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 liimself, reported his conversation with Merlin, and again designated, but 
 without naming them, tlie ambitious men who wished to exalt themselves 
 upon the ruins of demolished royalty. *' It is they who have instigated to 
 murder and plunder, who have issued orders of arrest against members of 
 the Legislative Assembly, who point the dagger against the courageous 
 members of the Convention, and who impute to the people the excesses 
 perpetrated by themselves." He added that, when the time should arrive, 
 he would tear off the veil which he had only lifted, were he even to perish 
 under their blows. 
 
 Still, however, the triumvirs were not named. Osselin ascended the tri- 
 bune, and mentioned the deputation of Paris of which he was a member. 
 He said that it was against that body that jealousy was so studiously excited, 
 but that it was neither profoundly ignorant enough, nor profoundly wicked 
 enough, to have conceived plans of a triumvirate or a dictatorship ; that he 
 would take his oath to the contrary ; and he called for ignominy and death 
 against the first who should be caught meditating such plans. " Let every 
 one," added he, " follow me to the tribune, and make the same declaration." 
 ■ — -" Yes," exclaimed Rebecqui, the courageous friend of Barbaroux; "yes, 
 that party charged with tyrannical projects exists, and I will name it — it is 
 Robespierre's party. Marseilles knows this, and has sent us hither to 
 oppose it." 
 
 This bold apostrophe produced a strong sensation in the Assembly. All 
 eyes turned towards Robespierre. Danton hastened to speak, for the pur- 
 pose of healing divisions, and of preventing accusations which he knew to 
 be in part directed against himself. *' That day," said he, *' will be a glo- 
 rious one for the republic, on which a frank and brotherly explanation shalj 
 dispel all jealousies. People talk of dictators, of triumvirs ; but that charge 
 is vague, and ought to be signed." — "I will sign it!" again exclaimed Re- 
 becqui, rushing to the bureau. "Good," rejoined Danton; "if there be 
 guilty persons, let them be sacrificed, even though they were my dearest 
 friends. For my part, my life is known. In the patriotic societies, on the 
 10th of August, in the executive council, I have served the cause of liberty, 
 without any private view, and with the energy of my disposition. For my 
 own person, then, I fear no accusations , out I wish to save everybody else 
 from them. There is, I admit, in the deputation of Paris, a man who might 
 be called the Royou of the republicans — that is Marat. I have frequently 
 been charged with being the instigator of his placards ; but I appeal to the 
 president, and beg him to declare if, in the communes and the committees, 
 he has not seen me frequently at variance with Marat. For tlie rest, that 
 writer, so vehemently accused, has passed part of his life in cellars and pri- 
 sons. Suffering has soured his temper, and his extravagances ought to be 
 excused. But let us leave mere individual discussions, and endeavour to 
 render them subservient to the public welfare. Decree the penalty of death 
 against any one who shall propose either a dictator or a triumvirate." This 
 motion was hailed with applause. 
 
 " That is not all," resumed Danton ; " there is another apprehension dif- 
 fused among the public. That, too, ought to be dispelled. It is alleged that 
 part of the deputies are meditating the federative system and the division of 
 France into a great number of sections. It is essential that we should form 
 one whole. Declare, then, by another decree, the unity of France and of 
 its government. These foundations laid, let us discard our jealousies, let us 
 be united, and push forward to our goal." 
 
 "Buzot, in reply to Danton, observed that the dictatorship was a thing that 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 399 
 
 might be assumed and was not likely to be demanded ; and that to enact 
 laws against such a demand was illusory ; that as for the federative system, 
 nobody dreamt of it ; that the plan of a departmental guard was a mean of 
 unity, since all the departments would be called upon in common to cniard 
 the national representation ; that, for the rest, it might be well to make a law 
 on that subject, but that it ought to be maturely weighed, and in consequence 
 the propositions of Danton ought to be referred to the committee of six de- 
 creed on the preceding day. 
 
 Robespierre, personally accused, asked leave to speak in his turn. He 
 set out with declaring that it was not himself that he was going to defend, 
 but the public weal, attacked in his person. Addressing Rebecqui, " Citi- 
 zen," said he, " who have not been afraid to accuse me, I thank you. In 
 your courage I recognise the celebrated city which has deputed you. The 
 country, you, and myself, will be gainers by this accusation. 
 
 "A party," he continued, "has been pointed out as meditating a new 
 tyranny, and I have been called its chief. The charge is vague ; but, thanks 
 to all that I have done for liberty, it will be easy for me to reply to it. It 
 was I, who, in the Constituent Assembly, for three years combated all the 
 factions, Avhatever name they borrowed. It was I who combated the court, 
 
 and disdained its gifts. It was I " — "That is not the question," 
 
 exclaimed several deputies. " Let him justify himself," replied Tallien. 
 " Since I am accused of treason against the country," resumed Robespierre, 
 '* have I not a right to rebut the charge by tlie evidence of my whole life ?" 
 He then ben^an ao^ain to enumerate his two-fold services ag-ainst the aristo- 
 cracy, and the false patriots Avho assumed the mask of liberty. As he uttered 
 these words, he pointed to the right side of the Convention. Osselin, him- 
 self tired of this enumeration, interrupted Robespierre, and desired him to 
 give a frank explanation. " The question," said Lecointe-Puiravaux, "does 
 not relate to what you have done, but to what you are charged of doing at 
 the present moment." Robespierre then fell back upon the liberty of opinion, 
 upon the sacred right of defence, upon the public weal, equally compromised 
 with himself in this accusation. Ao-ain he was exhorted to be brief, but he 
 proceeded with the same diffuseness as before. Referring to the famous 
 decrees passed on his motion against the re-election of the Constituents, and 
 against the nomination of deputies to places in the gift of the government, 
 he asked if those were proofs of ambition. Then, recriminating on his ad- 
 versaries, he renewed the accusation of federalism, and concluded by de- 
 manding the adoption of the decrees moved by Danton, and a serious 
 investigation of the charge preferred against himself. Barbaroux, out of 
 patience, hastened to the bar. " Barbaroux of Marseilles," said he, " comes 
 to sign the denunciation made against Robespierre by Rebecqui." He then 
 related a very insignificant and oft-repeated story, namely, that before the 
 10th of August, Panis took him to Robespierre's, and that, on leaving, after 
 this interview, Panis presented Robespierre to him as the only man, the only 
 dictator, capable of saving the public weal ; and that, upon this, he, Barba- 
 roux, replied that the Marsellais would never bow their heads before either 
 a king or a dictator. 
 
 We have already detailed these circumstances, and the reader has had an 
 opportunity of judging whether these vague and trivial expressions of Robes- 
 pierre's friends furnished sufficient ground for an accusation. Barbaroux 
 reviewed, one after another, the imputations thrown out against the Giron 
 dins. He proposed that federalism should be proscribed by a decrep and 
 that all the members of the National Convention should swear to suffer thnm- 
 
400 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 selves to be blockaded in the capital, and to die there, rather than leave it 
 A-fter prolonged plaudits, Barbaroux resumed, and said that, as for the design 
 of a dictatorship, it could not be disputed ; that the usurpations of the com- 
 mune, the orders issued against members of the national representation, the 
 commissioners sent into the departments, all proved a project of domination; 
 but that the city of Marseilles watched over the safety of its deputies ; that, 
 ever prompt to anticipate beneficial decrees, it despatched the battalion of 
 federalists, in spite of the royal veto, and that now it was sending off eight 
 hundred of its citizens, to whom their fathers had given a brace of pistols, a 
 sword, a musket, and an assignat of tive hundred livres ; that to these it had 
 joined two hundred cavalry, well equipped, and that this force would serve 
 to commence the departmental guard proposed for the safety of the Conven- 
 tion. As for Robespierre," added Barbaroux, "I deeply regret having 
 accused him, for I once loved and esteemed him. Yes, we all loved and 
 esteemed him, and yet we liave accused him. Let him acknowledge his 
 faults, and we will desist. Let him cease to complain, foi, if he has saved 
 liberty by his writings, we have defended it with our persons. Citizens, 
 when the day of peril shall arrive, then people will be able to judge us; 
 then we shall see if the writers of placards have the courage to die along 
 with us !" 
 
 Numerous plaudits accompanied Barbaroux to his seat. At the word pla- 
 cards, Marat demanded permission to speak. Cambon also asked it and 
 obtained the preference. He then denounced placards in which a dictator- 
 ship was proposed as indispensable, and which were signed with Marat's 
 name. At these words, every one moved away from him, and he replied 
 with a &mile to the aversion that was manifested for him. Cambon was fol- 
 lowed by otlier accusers of Marat and of the commune. Marat long strove 
 to obtain permission to speak; but Panis gained it befofe him in order to an- 
 swer the allegations of Barbaroux. Panis, in a clumsy manner, denied real 
 acts, but w^hich proved little, and which it would have been better to admit, 
 and to insist on their insignificance. He was then interrupted by Brissot, 
 who asked him the reason of the order of arrest issued against liimself. 
 Panis appealed to circumstances, which, he said, had been too readily for- 
 gotten, to the terror and confusion which then overwhelmed men's minds, to 
 the multitude of denunciations against the conspirators of the 10th of August, 
 to the strong rumours circulated against Brissot, and the necessity for inves- 
 tiffatinff them. 
 
 After these long explanations, every moment interrupted and resumed, 
 Marat, still insisting on being heard, at length obtained permission to speak, 
 when it was no longer possible to refuse it. It was the first time that he had 
 appeared in the tribune. The sight of him produced a burst of indignation, 
 and a tremendous uproar was raised against him. "Down! down !" was 
 the general cry. Slovenly in his dress, wearing a cap, which he laid down 
 upon the tribune, and surveying his audience with a convulsive and con- 
 temptuous smile, " I have," said he, " a great number of personal enemies 
 in this Assembly.". . . " All ! all !" cried most of the deputies. " I have in 
 this Assembly," resumed Marat, with the same assurance, " a great number 
 of personal enemies. I recall them to modesty. Let them spare their 
 ferocious clamours against a man who has served liberty and themselves 
 more than they imagine. 
 
 " People talk of a triumvirate, of a dictatorship — a plan which they attri- 
 bute to the deputation of Paris. Well ; it is due to justice to declare that 
 lay colleagues, and especially Robespierre and Dan ton, have always bee.n 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 401 
 
 hostile t/D it, and that I have always had to combat them on this point. I 
 was the first and the only one among all the political writers of France, who 
 thought of this measure as the only expedient for crushing traitors and con- 
 spirators. It is I alone who ought to be punished; but, before you punish, 
 you ought to hear." These words were followed by some plaudits from a 
 few members. Marat continued; "Amidst the everlasting machinations of 
 a perfi..Uous King, of an abominable court, and of false patriots, who, in 
 both Assemblies, sold the public liberty, will yon reproach me for having 
 devised the only means of salvation, and for having called down vengeance 
 upon guilty heads ? No ; for the people would condemn you. It has felt 
 that it had but this expedient left, and it is by making itself dictator that it 
 has delivered itself from traitors. 
 
 *' I have shuddered more than any other at the idea of these terrible move- 
 ments, and it is that they might not prove for ever vain that I should have 
 wished them to be directed by a just and firm hand. If, at the storming of 
 the Bastille, the necessity of that measure had been understood, five hundred 
 guilty heads would have fallen at my bidding, and peace would have been 
 insured from that time. But, for want of the display of this energy, equally 
 wise and necessary, one hundred thousand patriots have been slaughtered, 
 and one hundred thousand more are threatened with slaughter. As a proof 
 that it was not my wish to convert this dictator, tribune, triumvir — the name 
 is of no consequence — into a tyrant such as stupidity might conceive, but a 
 victim devoted to the country, whose lot no ambitious man would have 
 envied, is, that I proposed at the same time that his authority should last for 
 a few days only, that it should be limited to the power of condemning 
 traitors, and even that a cannon-ball should, during that time, be fastened to 
 his leg, that he might always be in the power of the people. My ideas, 
 revolting as may appear to you, tended only to the public welfare.* If you 
 were yourselves not enlightened enough to comprehend me, so much the 
 worse for you !" 
 
 The profound silence which had prevailed thus far was interrupted by 
 some bursts of laughter, which did not disconcert the speaker, who was far 
 more terrible than ludicrous. He resumed. " Such was my opinion, writ- 
 ten, signed, and publicly maintained. If it were false, it would have been 
 right to combat it, to enlighten me, and not to denounce me to despotism. 
 
 " I have been accused of ambition ; but look at and judge me. Had I 
 but condescended to set a price upon my silence, I might have been gorged 
 with gold — and I am poor. Persecuted without ceasing, I wandered from 
 cellar to cellar, and I have preached truth from a wood-pile. 
 
 " As for you, open your eyes. Instead of was'tiug time in scandalous 
 discussions, perfect the declaration of rights, establish the constitution, and 
 lay the foundations of the just and free government which is the real object 
 of your labours." 
 
 A general attention had been paid to this strange man, and the Assembly, 
 stupified by a system so alarming and so deeply calculated, had kept silence. 
 
 • "There is no kind of folly which may not come into the head of man, and, what is 
 worso, which may not for a moment be realized. Marat had several ideas which were unal- 
 terable. The Revolution had its enemies, and, according to him, in orJer to insure its Jura 
 tion, these were to be destroyed ; he thought no means more obvious than to exterminate 
 Ihem ; and to name a dictator, whose functions should be limited to proscription ; he preached 
 openly these two doctrines without cruelty, but with an air of cynicism equally regardless 
 of the rules of decency and the lives of men ; and despising as weak-minded all who styled 
 [lis projects atrocious instead of regarding them as profound." — Mignet. '^ 
 
 VOL. I. 51 
 
402 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Eml)oI(lened by this silence, some partisans of Marat had applauded ; but 
 their example was not followed, and Marat resumed his place without 
 plaudits, but without any demonstrations of hostility. 
 
 Vergniaud, the purest, the most prudent, of the Girondins, deemed it 
 right to speak, in order to rouse the indignation of the Assembly. He de- 
 plored the misfortune of having to answer a man who had not cleared him- 
 self from the decrees issued against him, — a man all dripping with calumnies, 
 gall, and blood. The murmurs were renewed ; but he proceeded with 
 firmness, and, after having distinguished in the deputation of Paris, David, 
 Dussaulx, and some other members, he took in hand the famous circular of 
 the commune, which we have already quoted, and read the whole of it. 
 As, however, it was already known, it did not produce so much effect asr 
 another paper which Boileau, the deputy, read in his turn. It was a hand- 
 bill printed by Marat that very day, in which he said, " A single reflection 
 oppresses me ; namely, that all my efforts to save the people, will end in 
 nothing without a fresh insurrection. From observing the temper of most 
 of the deputies to the National Convention, I despair of the public welfare. 
 If the bases of the constitution are not laid in the first eight sittings, expect 
 nothing more from this Assembly. Fifty years of anarchy await you, and 
 you will not emerge from it except by means of a dictator, a true patriot and 
 statesman O prating people! if thou didst but know hoiv to actP^ 
 
 The reading of this paper was frequently interrupted by bursts of indig- 
 nation. As soon as it was finished, a great number of members fell foul of 
 Marat. Some threatened him, and cried, " To the Abbaye ! to the guillo- 
 tine !" * while others loaded him with contempt. A fresh smile was his 
 only answer to all the attacks levelled at him. Boileau demanded a decree 
 ef accusation, and the greater part of the assembly was for putting the ques- 
 tion to vote. Marat coolly insisted on being heard. They refused to hear 
 him unless at the bar. At length he obtained the tribune. According to 
 his usual expression, he recalled his enemies to modesty. As for the decrees 
 which members had not been ashamed to throw in his teeth, he gloried in 
 them, because they were the price of his courage. Besides, the people, in 
 sending him to this national assembly, had annulled the decrees, and decided 
 between his accusers and himself. As for the paper which had just been 
 read, he would not disown it; for falsehood, he said, never approached his 
 lips, and fear was a stranger to his heart, 
 
 " To demand a recantation of me," added he, " is to require me not to 
 see what I do see, not to feel what I do feel, and there is no power under 
 the sun capable of producing this reversal of ideas. I can answer for the 
 purity of my heart, but I cannot change my thoughts. They are what the 
 nature of things suggests to me." Marat then informed the Assembly that 
 this paper, printed as a placard ten days before, had been reprinted against 
 his will by his bookseller ; but that he had given, in the first number of the 
 
 • This fatal instrument was named after its inventor, of whom the Biographie Moderm 
 gives the following account: — " M. Guillotin, a physician at Paris, born in 1738, was 
 appointed a member of the National Assembly, and attracted attention chiefly by his 
 great gentleness of disposition. In 1789 he made a speech on the penal code, wherein a 
 tone of great humanity was perceptible, and which terminated by a proposal for substituting, 
 as less cruel than the cord, that fatal machine, the guillotine, which in the end received so 
 many victims. Some persons, carried away by the horror which this machine has excited, 
 have considered as a monster one of the gentlest and at the same time most obscure men of 
 llie Revolution. Nobody deplored more bitterly than M. Guillotin the fatal use that has 
 n made of his invention." E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 403 
 
 Journal de la Repuhliqiie, a new exposition of his principles, with which he 
 was sure the Assembly would be satisfied if it would but listen to it. 
 
 The Assembly actually consented to the reading- of the article, and 
 appeased by the moderate expressions of Marat in this article, entitled his 
 " New March," it treated him with less severity ; nay, he even obtained 
 some tokens of approbation. But he again ascended the tribune witli his 
 usual audacity, and presumed to lecture his colleagiies on the danger of giving 
 way to passion and prejudice; saying that, if his journal had not appeared 
 that very day to exculpate him, they would have sent him blindly to prison. 
 " But," added he, showing a pistol which he always carried in his pocket, 
 and which he pointed to his forehead, " I had wherewithal to remain free ; 
 and, had you decreed my accusation, I would have blown out my brains in 
 this very tribune. Such is the fruit of my labours, my dangers, my suffer- 
 ings ! Well, I shall stay among you to defy your fury !" At these con- 
 cluding words, his colleagues, whose indignation was rekindled, cried out 
 that he was a madman, a villain, and a long tumult ensued. 
 
 The discussion had lasted several hours, and what had been elicited ? 
 Nothing whatever concerning the alleged plan of a dictatorship for the benefit 
 of a triumvirate, but much relative to the character of the parties and their 
 respective strength. The Assembly had beheld Danton easy and full of 
 good-will for his colleagues, on condition that he should not be annoyed on 
 account of his conduct ; Robespierre, full of spleen and pride ; Marat, asto- 
 nishing by his cynicism and boldness, repelled even by his party, but 
 striving to accustom minds to his atrocious systems ; all three, in short, suc- 
 ceeding in the Revolution by different faculties and vices, not agi-eeing 
 together, reciprocally disowning each other, and evidently actuated solely 
 by that love of influence, which is natural to all men, and which is not yet 
 a project of tyranny. The Assembly united with the Girondins in proscrib- 
 ing September and its horrors ; it decreed them the esteem due to their 
 talents and their intergrity ; but it deemed their accusations exaggerated and 
 imprudent, and could not help perceiving in their indignation some personal 
 feelings. 
 
 From that moment, the Assembly divided itself into a right side and a left 
 side, as in the first days of the Constituent. On the right side were ranged 
 all the Girondins, and those who, without being also personally connected 
 with their party, yet participated in their generous indignation. To the 
 centre resorted, in considerable numbers, those upright and peaceable depu- 
 ties, who, not being urged either by character or talent to take any other 
 share in the struggle of parties than by their vote, sought obscurity and 
 safety by mixing with the crowd. Their numerical influence in the Assem- 
 bly, the respect, still very great, that was paid them, the anxiety shown by 
 the Jacobin and municipal party to justify itself in their opinion — all served 
 to encourage them. They fondly believed that the authority of the Conven 
 tion would suffice in time to daunt the agitators ; they were not sorry to 
 checiv the energy of the Girondins, and to be able to tell them that their 
 accusations were rash. They were still but reasonable and impartial ; at 
 times somewhat jealous of the too frequent and too brilliant eloquence of the 
 right side ; but they were soon destined to become weak and cowardly in 
 the presence of tyranny. They were called the Plain, and by way of oppo- 
 sition the name of Mountain was given to the left side, where all the Jaco- 
 bms were crowded together. On the benches of this Mountain were seen 
 the de])uties of Paris, and the deputies of the departments who owed theii 
 nomination to correspondence with the clubs, or who had been gained since 
 
404 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 their arrival by the idea that no quarter ought to be given to the enemies oi 
 the Revolution. It comprehended, moreover, some distinguished, but exact, 
 severe, positive minds, who condemned tlie theories and the philanthropy 
 of the Girondins as vain abstractions. The Mountaineers, however, were 
 still far from numerous. The Plain, united with the right side, composed 
 an immense majority, which had conferred the presidency on Petion, and 
 which approved of the attacks of the Girondins on September, excepting 
 the personalities, which seemed too premature and too unfounded. 
 
 The Assembly had passed to the order of the day upon the reciprocal 
 accusations of the two parties ; but the decree of the preceding day was 
 upheld, and three points were determined upon: 1. To demand of the 
 minister of the interior an exact and faithful report of the state of Paris ; 
 
 2. To draw up uprojet de hi against the instigators of murder and pillage; 
 
 3. To devise means for collecting round the Convention a departmental 
 guard. As to the report on the state of Paris, it was known with what 
 energy and in what spirit that task would be performed, since it was com- 
 mitted to Roland. As for the commission charged with the two projets 
 against written instigations, and for the raising of a guard, the like hopes 
 were conceived of its labours, because it was entirely composed of Giron- 
 dins. Buzot, Lasource, and Kersaint, formed part of it. 
 
 It was to these tv/o latter measures that the Mountaineers were most hos- 
 tile. They asked if the Girondins meant to renew martial law and the 
 massacres of the Champ de Mars ; and if the Convention intended to sur- 
 round itself with satellites and life-guards, like the last King. They again 
 brought forward — so the Girondins alleged — all the reasons urged by the 
 court against the camp near Paris. 
 
 Many, even of the most ardent members of the left side, were themselves, 
 in their quality of members of the Convention, decidedly adverse to the 
 usurpations of the commune ; and, setting aside the deputies of Paris, none 
 of them defended it when attacked, as it was every day. Accordingly, 
 decrees briskly followed decrees. As the commune deferred renewing itself, 
 in execution of the decree prescribing the re-election of all the administra- 
 tive bodies, the executive council was ordered to superintend its renewal, 
 and to report on the subject to the Assembly within three days. A commis- 
 sion of six members was appointed to receive the declaration signed by all 
 those who had deposited effects at the Hotel de Ville, and to investigate the 
 existence of those effects, or the use to which they had been applied by the 
 municipality. The directory of the department, which the insurrectional 
 commune had reduced to the title and duties of a mere administrative com- 
 mission, was reinstated in all its functions, and resumed its title of directory. 
 The communal elections, for the appointment of the mayor, the municipality, 
 and the general council, which, by the contrivance of the Jacobins, were to 
 have taken place viva voce, for the purpose of intimidating the weak, were 
 again rendered secret by a confirmation of the existing law. The elections 
 already made in this illegal manner were annulled, and the sections pro- 
 ceeded to new ones in the prescribed form. Lastly, all prisoners confined 
 without any mandate of arrest were ordered to be forthwith liberated. This 
 was a severe blow given to the committee of surveillance, which was parti- 
 cularly inveterate against persons. 
 
 All these decrees had been passed in the first days of October; and the 
 eommune, being closely pressed, found itself obliged to yield to the ascend- 
 ency of the Convention. The committee of surveillance, however, would 
 Dot suffer itself to be beaten without resistance. Its members repaired tc 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 405 
 
 the Assembly, saying that they came to confound their enemies. Having in 
 their custody the papers found in the house of Laporte, intendant of^he 
 ctVil list, condemned, as the reader will recollect, by the tribunal of the 17th 
 of August, they had discovered, tiiey said, a letter, containing a statement 
 of the sums which certain decrees passed by the preceding Assemblies had 
 cost. They came to unmask the deputies sold to the court, and to prove the 
 falseness of their patriotism. " Name them," cried the Assembly with 
 indignation. " We cannot name them yet," replied the members of the 
 committee. In order to repel the calumny, a commission of twenty-four 
 deputies, w^ho had not been members of the Constituent and Leo-islativt 
 Assemblies, was immediately appointed to examine the papers, and to make 
 their report on the suliject. Marat, the inventor of this device, boasted in 
 his journal that he had repaid the Bolandisls, the accusers of the commune, 
 in their own coin; and he proclaimed the pretended discovery of a treason 
 of the Girondins. On the examination of the papers, however, none of the 
 existing deputies were found to be compromised, and the committee of sur- 
 veillance was declared guilty of calumny. The papers being too voluminous 
 for the twenty-four deputies to prosecute the examination at the Hotel de 
 Ville, they were removed to one of the committee-rooms of the Assembly. 
 Marat, Iinding himself thus deprived of rich materials for his daily accusa- 
 tions, was higfaly incensed, and alleged in his journal that there was a design 
 to destroy the evidences of all the treasons. 
 
 The Assembly, having thus repressed the excesses of the commune, 
 directed its attention to the executive power, and decided that the ministers 
 could no longer be taken from among its members. Danton, obliged to 
 choose between the functions of minister of justice and those of member of 
 the Convention, preferred, like Mirabeau, those whicli insured the tribune 
 to him, and quitted the ministry without rendering any account of the secret 
 expenditure, saying that he had delivered that account to the council. The 
 fact w^as not exactly so : but the Assemlily, without looking too closely into 
 the matter, suffered the excuse to pass. On tlie refusal of Francois de 
 Neufchateau, Garat,' a distinguislied writer, a clever metaphysician, and 
 who had acquired reputation by the ability w^ith which he edited the Jour- 
 nal de. Paris, accepted the post of minister of justice. Servan, weary of 
 a laborious administration, which was above, not his faculties, but his 
 strength, preferred the command of the army of observation that was form- 
 ing along the Pyrenees. Lebrun was therefore directed to take, ad interim, 
 the portfolio of war, in addition to that of foreign affairs. Lasth^ Roland 
 offered his resignation, being tired of an anarchy so contrary to his integrity 
 and his inflexible love of order. The Girondins proposed to the Assembly 
 to request him to retain the portfolio. The Mountaineers, and Danton in 
 particular, wdiom he had greatly tliwarted, opposed this step as not consistent 
 with the dignity of the Assembly. Danton complained that he was a weak 
 man. and under the government of his wife. In reply to this charge of 
 weakness, his opponents referred to Roland's letter of the 3d of September ; 
 and they might, moreover, have adduced the opposition which he, Danton, 
 
 * " D. J. Garat, the younger, was a man of jotters, a member of the institute, and profes- 
 ior of history in the Lyceum of Paris. In 1792 he was appointed minister of justice, and 
 commissioned to inform Louis of his condemnation. In the following year he became minister 
 of the interior. Garat survived all the perils of the Revolution, and, in 1806, he pronounceJ 
 in the senate one of the most eloquent speeches that were ever made on the victories of 
 the Emperor Napoleon. Garrxt published several works on the Revolution," — Biographu 
 Modcrne. E. 
 
406 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 had experienced in the council. The Assembly, however, passed to thu 
 order of the day. Being pressed by the Girondins, and by all good Lien; 
 Roland continued in the ministry. " I remain in it," he nobly wrote to tha 
 Assembly, " since calumny attacks me there, since dangers there await me, 
 since the Convention has appeared to wish me still to be there. It is too 
 glorious," he added, at the conclusion of his letter, " that no worse reproach 
 can be brought against me than my union with courage and virtue." 
 
 The Assembly then divided itself into various committees. It appointed 
 a committee of surveillance, composed of thirty members ; a second, of war, 
 consisting of twenty-four ; a third, of accounts, of fifteen ; a fourth, of crimi- 
 nal and civil legislation, of forty-eight ; a fifth, of assignats, specie, and 
 finances, of forty-two. A sixth committee, more important than all the others, 
 was added to the preceding. It was to direct its attention to the principal 
 object for which the Convention had assembled ; namely, the preparation of 
 a plan of constitution. It was composed of nine members, celebrated in 
 different ways, and almost all holding the sentiments of the right side. 
 Philosophy had its representatives there in the persons of Sieyes, Condorcet, 
 and Thomas Payne, the American, recendy elected a French citizen and a 
 member of the National Convention ; the Gironde was particularly repre- 
 sented by Gensonne, Vergniaud, Petion, and Brissot: the centre by Bar- 
 rere,* and the Mountain by Danton. The reader will doubtless be sur- 
 prised to see this tribune so restless, but so far from speculative, placed in a 
 committee so thoroughly philosophical ; and we should think that the 
 character of Robespierre, if not his talents, ought to have gained him this 
 appointment. It is certain that Robespierre coveted this distinction much 
 more, and that he was severely mortified because he failed to obtain it. It 
 was conferred in preference on Danton, whose natural talents fitted him for 
 anything, and whom no deep resentment had yet separated from his col- 
 leagues. It was this composition of the committee that so long delayed the 
 completion of the plan of the constitution. 
 
 After having thus provided for the restoration of order in the capital, for 
 the organization of the executive power, for the formation of committees and 
 for the preparatives of the constitution, there was yet left a last subject, one 
 of the most serious to which the Assembly had to direct its attention — the 
 fate of Louis XVI. and his family. On this point the most profound silence 
 had been observed in the Assembly : it was talked of everywhere, at the 
 Jacobins, at the commune, in all places, public and private, with the single 
 exception of the Convention. Some emigrants had been taken in arms ; and 
 they were on their way to Paris for the purpose of being made amenable to 
 the criminal laws. On this subject, one voice was raised — and this was the 
 first — and inquired if, instead of punishing subaltern culprits, the Assembly 
 did not intend to think of the more exalted ones confined in the Temple.t 
 
 • " I used to meet Barrere at a table d'hote. I consijered him of a mild and amiable 
 temper. He was very well bred, and seemed to love the Revolution from a sentiment of 
 benevolence. His association with Robespierre, and the court which he paid to the different 
 parties he successively joined, and afterwards deserted, were less the effect of an evil disposi- 
 tion, than of a timid and versatile character, and the conceit which made it incumbent on him 
 to appear as a public man. His talents as an orator were by no means of the first order. 
 He was afterwards surnamed the Anacreon of the guillotine; but when I knew him, he was 
 only the Anacreon of the Revolution, upon which, in his ' Point du Jour,' he wrote some very 
 amorous strains." — Durmont. E. 
 
 ■\ " The small tower of the Temple in which the King was then confined, stood with its 
 back against the great tower, without any interior communication, and formed a long square, 
 flanked by two turrets. In one of these turrets there was a narrow staircase, that led from 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 407 
 
 \.t this question profound silence pervaded the Assembly. Barbiiroux was 
 the first to speak ; and insisted that, before it shoukl be determined whether 
 the Convention was to try Louis XVI., it ought to be decided whether the 
 Convention sliould be a judicial body, for it had other culprits to try besides 
 those in the Temple. In raising this question, Barbaroux alluded to the 
 proposal for constituting the Convention an extraordinary court for tryiui 
 hsel( the agitators, the triumvirs, Slc. After some discussion, the proposi 
 tion was referred to the committee of legislation, that it might examine the 
 queslions to which it gave rise. 
 
 At this moment the military situation of France was much changed. It 
 was nearly tlie middle of October. The enemy was already driven out of 
 Champagne and Flanders, and the foreign territory was invaded on three 
 points, the Palatinate, Savoy, and the county of Nice. 
 
 We have seen the Prussians retiring from the camp of La Lune, retreating 
 towards the Argonne, strewing the defdes witli the sick and the dead, and 
 escaping total destruction solely through the negligence of our generals, who 
 
 the first floor to a gallery on the platform ; in the other were small rooms answering to each 
 story of the tower. The body of the building was four stories high. 'J'lie first consisted of 
 an antecliamber, a dining-room, and a small room in the turret, where there was a liltrary 
 containing from twelve to fifteen hundred volumes. The second story was divided nearly 
 in the same manner. The largest room was the Queen's bedchamber, in which the dauphin 
 also slept ; the second, which was separated from the Queen's by a small antechamber 
 almost without light, was occupied by Madame Royale, and Madame Elizabeth. This cham- 
 ber was the only way to the turret-room in this story, and the turret-room was the only place 
 of office for this whole range of building, being in common for the royal family, the munici- 
 pal officers, and the soldiers. The King's apartments were on the third story. He slept in 
 the great room, and made a study of the turret-closet. There was a kitchen separated from 
 the King's chamber by a small dark room, which had been successively occupied by M. do 
 Chamilly and M. de Hue, and on which the seals were now fixed. The fourth story was 
 shut up ; and on the ground floor, there were kitchens of which no use was made. The 
 King usually rose at six in the morning. He shaved himself, and I dressed his hair; he 
 then went to his reading-room, which being very small, the municipal oflicer on duty remained 
 in the bed-chamber with the door open, that he might always keep the King in sight. His 
 majesty continued praying on his knees till five or six o'clock, and then read till nine. 
 During that interval, after putting his chamber to rights, and preparing the breakfast, I went 
 down to the Queen, who never opened her door till I arrived, in order to prevent the muni- 
 cipal ollicer from going into her apartment. At nine o'clock, the Queen, the children, and 
 Madame Elizabeth, went up to the King's chamber to breakfast. At ten, the King and his 
 family went down to the Queen's chamber, and there passed the day. He employed him- 
 self in educating his son, made him recite passages from Corneille and Racine, gave him 
 lessons in geography, and exercised him in colouring the maps. The Queen, on her part, 
 was employed in the education of her daughter, and these diiferent lessons lasted till eleven 
 o'clock. The remaining time till noon was passed in needlework, knitting, or making 
 tapestry. At one o'clock, when the weather was fine, the royal family were conducted to 
 the garden by four municipal officers, and a commander of a legion of the national guards. 
 At two we returned to the tower, where I servet'. the dinner, at which time Santerre regularly 
 came to the Temple, attended by two aides-de-camp. The King sometimes spoke to him — 
 the Queen, never. In the evening, the family sat round a table, while the Queen read to 
 them from books of history, or other works proper to instruct and amuse (he children. 
 Madame Elizabeth took the book in her turn, and in this manner they read till eight o'clock. 
 After the dauphin had supped, I undressed him, and the Queen heard him say his prayers. 
 At nine the King went to supper, and afterwards went for a moment to the Queen's cham- 
 ber; shook hands with her and her sister for the night; kissed his children; and theu 
 retired to the turret-room, where he sate reading till midnight. 
 
 The Queen and the princesses locked themselves in, and one of the municipal office • 
 remained in the little room which parted their chamber, where he passed the night ; the othei 
 followed his majesty. In this manner was the time passed as long as the King remained ir. 
 ttie small tower." — Cler}/. E. 
 
408 
 
 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 severally pursued the enemy with a different object. The Duke of Saxe, 
 Teschen had not been more successful in his attack on the Netherlands. 
 While the Prussians were marching upon the Argonne, that prince was not 
 willing to be left behind, and had deemed it his duty to attempt some bril. 
 iiant enterprise. Though, however, our northern frontier had not been put 
 mto a state of defence, he was almost as destitute of means as ourselves, 
 and had great difficulty in collecting a scanty materiel and fifteen thousand 
 men. Then, feigning a false attack upon our whole line of fortresses, he 
 occasioned the breaking up of one of our little camps, and suddenly moved 
 towards Lille, to attempt a siege which the greatest generals could not have 
 carried on without powerful armies and a considerable materiel. 
 
 In war, nothing but the possibility of success can justify cruel enterprises. 
 The duke was only able to approach one point of the fortress, and there 
 established batteries of howitzers, which bombarded it for six successive 
 days, and burned more than two hundred houses. It is said that the Arch- 
 duchess Christine insisted on witnessing this horrible scene. If this were 
 the case, slie could not Avitness anything but the heroism of the besieged 
 and the uselessness of Austrian barbarity. The people of Lille, resisting 
 with noble obstinacy, would not consent to surrender ; and, on the 8th of 
 October, while the Prussians were abandoning the Argonne, Duke Albert 
 was obliged to quit Lille. General Labourdonnais, arriving from Soissons, 
 and Beurnonville, returning from Champagne, forced him to retreat rapidly 
 from our frontiers, and the resistance of the people of Lille, published 
 throughout all France, served to increase the general enthusiasm. 
 
 Nearly about the same time, Custine* was attempting bold enterprises, 
 but with results more brilliant than solid, in the Palatinate. Attached to 
 Biron's army, which was encamped along the Rhine, he was placed, with 
 seventeen thousand men, at some distance from Spire. The grand invading 
 army had but feebly protected its rear, whilst advancing into the interior of 
 France. Weak detachments covered Spire, Worms, and Mayence. Cus- 
 tine, perceiving this, marched for Spire, and entered it without resistance 
 on the 30th of September. Emboldened by success, he penetrated on the 
 5th of October into Worms, Avithout encountering any greater difficulties, and 
 obliged a garrison of two thousand seven hundred men to lay down their 
 arms. He then took Frankenthal, and immediately directed his attention 
 to the strong fortress of Mayence, which was the most important point of 
 retreat for the Prussians, and in which they had been so imprudent as to 
 leave but a moderate garrison. Custine, with seventeen thousand men and 
 destitute of materiel, could not attempt a siege ; but he resolved to try a 
 coup de main. The ideas which had roused France were agitating all Ger- 
 
 • " Count Adam Phillippe Custine, born at Metz in 1740, served as captain in the seven 
 years' war. Through the influence of the Duke of Choiseul, he obtained, in 1762, a regi- 
 ment of dragoons, which was called by his name. In 1780 he exchanged this for the regi- 
 ment of Saintonge, which was on the point of going to America, to the aid of the colonies. 
 On his return, he was appointed marechal de camp. In 1789 he was deputy of the nobility 
 of Metz, and was one of the first who declared for ihe popular party. He subsequently 
 entered the army of the North, and, 1792, made himself master of the pass of Porentruy. 
 He then received the command of the army of the Lower Rhine, and opened the campaign 
 hy taking possession of Spire. He next took Worms, then the fortress of Mentz, and then 
 Frankfort-ori-the-Maine, on which he laid heavy contributions. In 1793 he was denounced, 
 and received his dismissal, but the Convention afterwards invested him with the command 
 of the Northern army. But he had hardly time to visit the posts. Marat and Varennei 
 were unceasing in their accusations against him, and the revolutionary tribunal soon after* 
 w<»rds condemned him to death." — Encyclopaedia Americana. E 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION 409 
 
 many, and especially those cities which had univprsities. Mayence was 
 one of these, and Cusline contrived to establish a correspondence there. He 
 approached the walls, wiUidrew on tlie false report of the arrival of ai 
 Austrian corps, returned, and, makiuj^ great movements, deceived the cnemj' 
 as to the strength of his army. Deliberations were held in the fortress. 
 The design of capitulation was strongly supported by the partisans of the 
 French, and on the 21st of October the gates were opened to Custine. The 
 g^arrison laid down its arms, Avith the exception of eight hundred Austrians, 
 who rejoined the grand army. The intelligence of these brilliant successes 
 spread rapidly and caused an extraordinary sensation. They had certainly 
 cost but little : at the same time, tliey were far less meritorious than the 
 firmness of the people of Lille, and the magnanimous coolness displayed at 
 St. Mcnehould ; but people were delighted with the transition from mere 
 resistance to conquest. Thus far all would have been right on Custine's 
 part, if, appreciating his position, he had possessed the skill to terminate 
 the campaign by a movement, whicli would have been practicable and 
 decisive. 
 
 At this moment the three armies of Dumouriez, Kellermann, and Custine, 
 were by the most fortunate chance so placed that they mioht have destroyed 
 the Prussians, and conquered by a single march the whole line of the Rhine 
 to the sea. If Dumouriez, less preoccupied by another idea, had kept Kel- 
 lermann under liis command and pursued the Prussians with his eighty 
 thousand men ; if," at the same time, Custine, descending the Rhine from 
 Mayence to Coblentz, had fallen upon their rear, they must infallibly have 
 been overpowered. Then, descending the Rhine to Holland, they might 
 have taken Duke Albert in the rear, and o])liged him either to lay down his 
 arms or to fight his way through tliem, and the whole Netherlands would 
 have been subdued. Treves and Luxemburg, comprised within the line 
 which we have described, would fall of course. All would be France as far 
 as the Rhine, and the campaign would be over in a month. Dumouriez 
 abounded in genius, but his ideas had taken a difierent course. Impatient 
 to return to Belgium, he thought of nothing but hastening thither imme- 
 diately, to relieve Lille and to push Duke Albert in front. He left Keller- 
 mann, therefore, alone to pursue tlie Prussians. The latter general might 
 still have marched upon Coblentz, passing between Luxemburg and Trevei', 
 while Custine would be descending from Mayence. But Kellermann, who 
 was not enterprising, had not sufficient confidence in the capabihties of his 
 troops, which appeared harassed, and put them into cantonments around 
 Metz. Custine, on his part, desirous of rendering himself independent, and 
 of making brilliant incursions, had no inclination to join Kellermann and to 
 confine himself within the limit of the Rhine. He never thought, there- 
 fore, of descending to Coblentz. Tbus this admirable plan was neglected, 
 60 ably seized and developed by the greatest of our military historians.^ 
 
 Custine, though clever, was haughty, passionate, and inconsistent. His 
 chief aim was to make himself independent of Biron and every other 
 general, and he entertained the idea of conquering around him. If he were 
 to take Manheim, he should violate the neutrality of the elector-palatine, 
 which the executive council had forbidden him to do. He thought, there- 
 fore, of abandoning the Rhine, for the purpose of advancing into Germany. 
 Frankfort, situated on the Mayne, appeared to him a prize worth seizuig, 
 and thitlier he resolved to proceed. Nevertheless, this free commercial city. 
 
 • Jomini. 
 TOL. 1 — 52 
 
410 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 always neuter m the different wars, and favourably disposed towaids the 
 French, did not deserve this mischievous preference. Being defenceless, 
 it was easy to enter, but difficult to maintain one's-self there, and conse- 
 quently it was useless to occupy it. This excursion could have but one 
 object, that of levying contributions ; and there was no justice in imposing 
 them on a population habitually neuter, and meriting by its very disposition 
 the good-will of France, whose principles it approved and to whom it 
 wished success. Custine committed the fault of entering the city. This 
 was on the 27th of October. He levied contributions, incensed the inhabit- 
 ants, whom he converted into enemies of the French, and ran the risk, 
 while proceeding towards the Mayne, of being cut off from the Rhine, either 
 by the Prussians, if they had ascended as far as Bingen, or by the elector- 
 palatine, if, breaking the neutrality, he had issued from Manheim. 
 
 The tidings of these incursions into the enemy's territory continued to 
 excite great joy in France, who was astonished to find herself conquering, a 
 few days only after she had been afraid of being conquered. The Prussians, 
 being alarmed, threw a flying bridge across the Rhine, for the purpose of 
 ascending along the right bank and driving away the French. Fortunately 
 for Custine, they were twelve days in crossing the river. Discouragement, 
 disease, and the separation of the Austrians, had reduced that army to fifty 
 thousand men. Clairfayt, with his eighteen thousand Austrians, had fol- 
 lowed the general movement of our troops towards Flanders, and was pro- 
 ceeding to the aid of Duke Albert. The corps of emigrants had been 
 disbanded, and the brilliant soldiery which composed it had either joined the 
 corps of Conde or passed into foreign service. 
 
 During these occurrences on the frontier of the North and of the Rhine, 
 we were gaining other advantages on the frontier of the Alps. Montesquieu, 
 who commanded the army of the South, invaded Savoy, and detached one 
 of his officers to occupy the county of Nice. Tliis general, who had dis- 
 played in the Constituent Assembly all the abilities of a statesman, and who 
 had not had time to exhibit the qualities of a military commander, which he 
 is asserted to have possessed, had been summoned to the bar of the Legisla- 
 tive to account for his conduct, which had been deemed too dilatory. He had 
 found means to convince his accusers that the want of means and not of zeal 
 was the cause of his tardiness, and had returned to the Alps. He belonged, 
 however, to the first revolutionary generation, and this was incompatible 
 with the new one. Again he was sent for, and he was on the point of being 
 strapped of his command, when news arrived that he had entered Savoy. 
 His dismissal was then suspended, and he was left to continue his conquest. 
 
 According to the plan conceived by Dumouriez, when, as minister of 
 foreign affairs, he superintended the departments both of diplomacy and war, 
 France was to push her armies to her natural frontiers, the Rhine, and the 
 lofty chain of the Alps. To this end, it was necessary to conquer Belgium, 
 Savoy, and Nice. France had thus the advantage, in confining herself to 
 natural principles, of despoiling only the two enemies with whom she was 
 at war, the house of Austria and the court of Turin. It was this plan, which 
 failed in April in Belgium, and was deferred till now in Savoy, that Montes- 
 quieu was about to execute his portion of He gave a division to General 
 Anselme, with orders to pass the Var and to proceed for Nice upon a given 
 Kignal : he himself, with the greater part of his army, advanced from Greno- 
 ble upon Chambery ; he caused the Sardinian troops to be threatened by St 
 Genies, and, marching himself from the fort Barraux upon Mont-Melian, he 
 f?ucceeded in dividing and driving them back into the valleys. While hii 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION 411 
 
 lieutenants were pursuing them, he advanced upon Chamhery, on the 28tb 
 of September, and made his triumphal entry into that city, to the great satis 
 faction of the inhabitants, who loved liberty like true sons of the mountams, 
 and France like men speaking the same language, having the same manners, 
 and belonging to the same basin. He immediately convoked an assembly 
 of Savoyards, for the purpose of deliberating upon a question which could 
 uot be doubtful — the union of Savoy with France. 
 
 At the same moment, Anselme, reinforced by six thousand Marseillais, 
 whom he had demanded as auxiliaries, had approached the Var, an unequal 
 torrent, like all those which descend from lofty mountains, alternately savoI- 
 len and dry, and incapable even of receiving a permanent bridge. Anselmo 
 boldly crossed the Var, and occupied Nice, which the Count St. Andre had 
 just abandoned, and wliich the magistrates had pressed him to enter, in order 
 to put a stop to the excesses of the populace, who were committing frightful 
 depredations. The Sardinian troops retired towards the upper valleys ; 
 Anselme pursued them ; but he halted before a formidable post, that of 
 Saorgio, from which he could not drive the Piedmontese. 
 
 Meanwhile, the squadron of Admiral Truguet, combining its movements 
 with those of General Anselme, had obtained the surrender of Villafranca 
 and borne away for the litUe principality of Oneglia. A great number of 
 privateers were accustomed to take refuge in that port, and lor this reason it 
 would be of service to reduce it. But, while a French boat was advancing 
 to parley, the right of nations was violated, and several men were killed by 
 a general discharge. The admiral, laying his ships athwart the harbour, 
 poured upon it an overwhelming tire, and then landed some troops, which 
 sacked the town and made a great carnage among the monks, who were very 
 numerous there, and who were said to be the instigators of this act of treachery. 
 Such is the rigour of military law, which was inflicted without mercy on the 
 unfortunate town of Oneglia. After this expedition, the French squadron 
 returned olT Nice, where Anselme, separated by the swelling of the Var from 
 the rest of his army, was in a dangerous predicament. By carefully guarcU 
 ing himself, however, against the post of Saorgio, and by treating the 
 inhabitants better than he had done,* he rendered his position tenable, and 
 was enabled to retain his conquest. 
 
 Montesquieu was, meanwhile, advancing from Chambery towards Geneva, 
 and was likely soon to find himself in presence of Switzerland, which enter- 
 tained extremely adverse feelings towards tlie French, and pretended to dis- 
 cover in the invasion of Savoy a danger to its neutrality. 
 
 The sentiments of tlie cantons in regard to us were widely different. All 
 the aristocratic republics condemned our Revolution. Berne, in particular, 
 and its avoyer, Stinger, held it in profound detestation ; and the more so, 
 because it furnished a subject of high gratiiication to the oppressed Pays ds 
 Vaud. The Helvetic aristocracy, excited by Stinger and the English am- 
 bassador, called for war against us, and laid great stress on the massacre of 
 the Swiss guards on the 10th of August, the disarming of a regiment at Aix, 
 and, lastly, the occupation of the gorges of Porentruy, which belonged to the 
 bishopric of Basle, and which Biron had caused to be occupied, for the pur- 
 
 • <i 
 
 The republicans made a cruel use of their victory. The inhabitants of Nice and the 
 neighbouring country were rewarded for the friendly reception they had given them, by 
 plunder and outrages of every description. A proclamation issued by General Anselmo 
 against these excesses met with no sort of attention ; and the commissioners appoirted by 
 the Convention to inquire into the disorders were unable to make any effectual reparalion."- 
 
 inquire 
 Alison. £. 
 
412 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 pose of closing the Jura. The moderate party, nevertheless, gained thd 
 ascendency, and an armed neutrality was determined upon. The canton of 
 Berne, still more irritated and distrustful, sent a corps rrarmee to Nyon, and, 
 under the pretext of an application from the magistrates of Geneva, placed a 
 garrison in that city. 
 
 According to ancient treaties, Geneva, in case of a war between France 
 and Savoy, was not to receive a garrison from either power. Our envoy 
 immediately quitted the place, and the executive council, instigated by 
 Clavieres, who had formerly been banished from Geneva, and was jealoug 
 of introducing the Revolution there, ordered Montesquiou to enforce the 
 execution of the treaties. He was instructed, moreover, to put a garrison 
 into the place, that is to say, to commit the same fault with which the Ber- 
 nese were reproached. Montesquiou, sensible, in the first, place, that he 
 had not at the moment the means of taking Geneva, and in the next, that, 
 by violating the neutrality and involving himself in a war with Switzerland, 
 he should throw open the east of France and expose the right flank of our 
 defensive, resolved, on the one hand, to intimidate Geneva, while, on the 
 other, he would endeavour to make the executive council listen to reason. 
 He therefore loudly insisted on the departure of the Bernese troops, and 
 strove to persuade the French ministry that this was all that could be re- 
 quired. His design was, in case of extremity, to bombard Geneva, and to 
 proceed, by a bold march, towards the canton of Vaud, for the purpose of 
 producing a revolution. Geneva consented to the departure of the Bernese 
 troops, on condition that Montesquiou should retire to the distance of ten 
 leagues, which he immediately did. This concession, however, was cen- 
 sured at Paris; and Montesquiou, posted at Carouge, where he was sur- 
 rounded by Genevese exiles, who were desirous of returning to their country, 
 was worried between the fear of embroiling France with Switzerland, and 
 the fear of disobeying the executive council, which was incapable of appre- 
 ciating the soundest military and political views. This negotiation, pro- 
 longed by the distance of the places, was not yet brought near to a close, 
 though it was the end of October. 
 
 Such, then, was the state of our arms in October, 1792, from Dunkirk to 
 Basle, and from Basle to Nice. The frontier of Champagne was delivered 
 from the grand invasion ; the troops were proceeding from that province to- 
 wards Flanders, to relieve Lille, and to invade Belgium. Kellermann took 
 up his quarters in Lorraine. Custine, escaped from the control of Biron, 
 master of Mayence, and marching imprudently into the Palatinate and to the 
 Mayne, rejoiced France by his conquests, affrighted Germany, and indis- 
 creetly exposed himself to the risk of being cut off by the Prussians, who 
 were ascending the Rhine, in sick and beaten, but numerous bodies, and still 
 capable of overwhelming the litde French army. Biron was still encamped 
 along the Rhine. Montesquiou, master of Savoy, in consequence of the 
 retreat of the Piedmontese beyond the Alps, and secured from fresh attacks 
 by the snow, had to decide the question of Swiss neutrality either by arms 
 or by negotiations. Lastly, Anselme, master of Nice, and supported by a 
 squadron, was enabled to resist in his position, in spite of the swelling of 
 the Var, and of the Piedmontese collected above him at the post of Saorgio. 
 
 While the war was about to be transferred from Champagne to Belgium, 
 Dumouriez had solicited permission to go to Paris for two or three days only, 
 '"or the purpose of concerting with the ministers the invasion of the Nether 
 lands, and ihe general plan of all the military operations. His enemies re 
 Ported that he was coming to gain applause, and that he was leaving tht 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 413 
 
 duties of his command for the sake of a frivolous gratification of vanity 
 These reproaches were exaggerated, for Dumouriez's command siilTereC 
 nothmg by his absence, and mere marches of troops could be performec 
 without him. His presence, on the contrary, was likely to be very useful 
 to the council for the determination of a general plan; and, besides, he might 
 be forgiven an impatience of glory, so general among men, and so excusable 
 when it does not interfere with duties. 
 
 He arrived in Paris on the 11th of October. His situation was perplex- 
 ing, for he could not stand well with either of the two parties. He disliked 
 the violence of the Jacobins, and he had broken with the Girondins by expel- 
 ling them a few months before from the ministry. Very favourably received, 
 however, throughout all Champagne, he was still more warmly welcomed 
 in Paris, especially by the ministers, and by Roland himself, who discarded 
 all personal resentments when the public Vvelfare was at stake. He present- 
 ed himself before the Convention on the 12th. No sooner was he announced 
 than mingled acclamations and applause arose on all sides. In a simple, 
 energetic speech, he gave a brief sketch of the whole campaign of the Ar- 
 gonne, and bestowed the highest commendations on his troops, and on 
 Kellermann himself. His staff then brouglit forward a standard taken 
 from the emigjants, and offered it to the Assembly as a monument of the 
 vanity of their projects. Immediately afterwards the deputies hastened to 
 surround him, and the sitting was closed, in order to afford a free scope for 
 their congratulations. It was more esipecially the numerous deputies of the 
 Plain, the impar/ials, as they were termed, who, having neither rupture nor 
 revolutionary indifl'erence to lay to his charge, gave him the warmest and 
 most cordial welcome. The Girondins were not behindhand; yet, whethei 
 it was dicir fault or his, the reconciliation was not complete, and a lurking 
 relic of coolness was perceptible between them. The Mountaineers, who 
 had reproached him with a momentary attachment to Louis XVI., and who 
 found him, in his manners, his merit, and his elevation, already too like the- 
 Girondins, grudged him the testimonies paid to him in that quarter, and 
 supposed these testimonies to be more significant than they really wove. 
 
 After tlie Convention, he had yet to visit the Jacobins, and this power had 
 then become so imposing, that the victorious general could not omit paying 
 them his homage. It was there that opinion in fermentation formed all itj 
 plans and issued its decrees. If an important law, a high political question, 
 a great revolutionary measure was to be brought forward, the Jacobins, 
 always more prompt, hastened to open the discussion and to give their opi- 
 nion. Immediately afterwards, they thronged to the commune and to the 
 sections ; they wrote to all the affiliated clubs ; and the opinion whicli they 
 had expressed, the wish which they had conceived, returned in the form of 
 addresses from every part of France, and in the form of armed petitions from 
 all the quarters of Paris. AVhen, in the municipal councils, in the sections, 
 and in all the assemblies invested witli any authority whatever, tliere was 
 still some hesitation on a question, from a last respect for legality, tlie Jaco- 
 bins, who esteemed themselves free as thought, boldly cut the knot, and 
 every insurrection was proposed among them long beforehand. They had 
 for a whole month deliberated on that of the 10th of August. Besides 
 Ihis initiative in every question, they had arrogated to themselves an inex 
 orable inquisition into all the details of the government. If a minister, the 
 head of a public oflice, a contractor, was accused, commissioners sent by 
 the Jacobins went to the ofBces and demanded exact accounts, which were 
 
414 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 delivered to thtm without haughtiness, without disdain, and without iiTipa* 
 tience. Every citizen who had to complain of any act whatever, had only to 
 apply to the society, and officious advocates were appointed to obtain justice 
 for him. One day perhaps soldiers would complain of their officers, work- 
 men of their employers ; the next, an actress might be seen demanding justice 
 against her manager ; nay, once a Jacobin came to demand reparation for 
 adultery committed with his wife by one of his colleagues. 
 
 Every one was anxious to have his name entered in the register of the 
 society, in order to attest his patriotic zeal. Almost all the deputies who 
 had recently arrived in Paris had hastened to present themselves at the Jaco- 
 bins for that purpose ; there had been counted one hundred and thirteen of 
 them in one week, and even such as never meant to attend the meeting's of 
 the club nevertheless applied for admission. The affiliated societies wrote 
 from the extremities of the provinces, inquiring if the deputies of their de- 
 partments had got themselves enrolled, and if they were assiduous members. 
 The wealthy of the capital strove to gain pardon for their wealth by goincr 
 to the Jacobins to put on the red cap, and their equipages blocked up the 
 entrance to that abode of equality. While the hall was filled with its nume- 
 rous members, and the tribunes were crowded with people, an immense 
 concourse, mingled with carriages, waited at the door, and with loud shouts 
 demanded admission. Sometimes this multitude became irritated when rain, 
 so common under the sky of Paris, aggravated the wearisomeness of waiting, 
 and then some member demanded the admission of the good j)eople, who 
 were suffering at the doors of the hall. Marat had frequently claimed this 
 privilege on such occasions ; and when the admission was granted, some- 
 times even before, an immense multitude of both sexes poured in and min- 
 gled with the members. 
 
 It was in the evening that they met. Anger, excited and repressed in the 
 Convention, here vented itself in a free explosion. Night, the multitude of 
 auditors, all contributed to heat the imagination. The sitting was frequently 
 prolonged till it degenerated into a tremendous tumult, and there the agitators 
 gathered courage for the most audacious attempts on the following day. 
 Still this society, so imbued with a demagogue spirit, was not what it sub- 
 sequently became. The equipages of those who came to abjure the inequa- 
 lity of conditions were still suffered to wait at the door. Some members 
 had made ineffectual attempts to speak with their hats on, but they had been 
 obliged to uncover themselves. Brissot, it is true, had just been excluded 
 by a solemn decision ; but Petion continued to preside there, amidst applause. 
 Chabot, CoUot-d'Herbois, and Fabre-d'Eglantine were the favourite speakers. 
 Marat still appeared strange there, and Chabot observed, in the language of 
 the place, that Marat was " a hedgehog which could not be laid hold of 
 anywhere." 
 
 Duraouriez was received by Danton, who presided at the sitting. He 
 was greeted with numerous plaudits, and the sight of him gained forgiveness 
 for the supposed friendship of the Girondins. He made a short speech ap- 
 propriate to his situation, and promised to march before the end of the month 
 at the head of sixty thousand men, to attack kings, and to save the people 
 from tyranny. 
 
 Danton, replying in similar style, said that, in rallying the French at the 
 camp of St. Menehould, he had deserved well of the country, but that a new 
 career was opening for him; that he must now make crowns fall before the 
 !ed cap with which the society had honoured him, and that his name would 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 415 
 
 Ihen shine among the most glorious names of France. Collot-d'Herhois then 
 addressed him in a speech which shows both the language of that period 
 and the feelings of the moment in regard to the general. 
 
 "It was not a king who appointed thee, O Dumouriez ; it was thy fellow- 
 citizens. Bear in mind that a general of the republic ought to serve none 
 but the republic. Thou hast heard of Themistocles : he had just saved 
 Greece at Salamis ; but, calumniated by his enemies, he was forced to seek 
 an asylum among tyrants. They wanted him to serve against his country 
 His only answer was to plunge his sword into his heart. Dumouriez, tJioii 
 hast enemies ; thou wilt be calumniated: remember Themistocles ! 
 
 " Enslaved nations are awaiting thy assistance. Thou wilt soon set them 
 free. What a glorious mission ! . . Thou must nevertheless guard thyself 
 against any excess of generosity towards thine enemies. Thou hast con- 
 ducted hack the King of Prussia rather too much in the French manner. 
 But Austria, we hope, will pay doubly. 
 
 " Thou art going to Brussels, Dumouriez. ... I have nothing to say to 
 thee. . . If, hoAvever, thou shouldst there find an execrable woman, who 
 came beneath the walls of Lille to feast her ferocity with the sight of red- 
 hot balls ! . . . But no, that woman will not wait for thy coming. 
 
 "At Brussels, liberty will again spring up under thy feet. Citizens, 
 maidens, matrons, children, will throng around thee — O what happiness art 
 thou about to enjoy, Dumouriez ! My wife is from Brussels ; she, too, will 
 embrace thee !"* 
 
 * The report of the speech addressed by ColIot-d'Herbois to Dumouriez, as given in the 
 Journal des Jacobins, is as follows ; 
 
 " I meant to speak of our armies, and I congratulated myself on having to speak of them 
 in the presence of the soldier whom you have just heard. I meant to censure the answer 
 of the president ; I have already said several times that the president ought never to reply to 
 the members of the society ; but he has replied to all the soldiers of the army. This answer 
 gives to all a signal testimony of your satisfaction : Dumouriez will share it with all his 
 iarcthren in arms, for he knows that without them his glory would be nothing. We must 
 accustom ourselves to this language. Dumouriez has done his duty. This is his best 
 recompense. It is not because he is a general that I praise him, but because he is a French 
 soldier. 
 
 " Is it not true, general, that it is a glorious thing to command a republican army 1 that 
 thou hast found a great dift'erencc between this army and those of despotism 1 The French 
 are not possessed of bravery only ; they have something beyond the mere contempt of death; 
 for who is there that fears death 7 But those inhabitants of Lille and Thionville, who coolly 
 await the red-hot balls, who continue immoveable amid the burstmg of bombs and the 
 destruction of their houses — is not this the development of all the virtues 1 Ah, yes, those 
 virtues are above all triumphs! A new manner of making war is now invented, and our 
 enemies will not find it out: tyrants will not be able to do anything so long as freemen 
 shall be resolved to defend themselves. 
 
 "A great number of our brethren have fallen in the defence of liberty ; they are dead, but 
 their memory is dear to us. They have left examples which live in our hearts — but do they 
 live who have attacked us 1 No: they are crushed, and their cohorts are but heaps of car- 
 casses, which are rotting on the spot where they fought; they are but an infectious dunghill, 
 which the sun of liberty will have great difficulty to purify. . . . That host of walking 
 skeletons closely resembles the skeleton of tyranny ■ and like it they will fail to succumb. . 
 What is become of those old generals of high renown ? Their shadow vanishes before the 
 almighty genius of liberty ; they flee, and they have but dungeons for their retreat, for dun 
 gcons will soon be the only palaces of despots : they flee because the nations are rising. 
 
 "It was not a king who appointed thee, Dumouriez ; it was ihy fellow-citizens- recollect 
 that a general of the republic ought never to treat with tyrants; recollect that such generals 
 as thyself ought never to serve any but liberty. Thou hast heard of Themistocles ; he had 
 saved Greece by the battle of Salamis; he was calumniated— thou hast thy enemies, Dumou- 
 riez ; thou shalt be calumniated, and that is the reason I talk to thee— Themistocles wa* 
 
416 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Danton then retired with Dumouriez, whom he seized upon, and to whonj 
 he did, as it were, the honours of the new republic. Danton having shown 
 at Paris as firm a countenance as Dumouriez at St. Menehould, they were 
 regarded as the two saviours of the Revolution, and they were applauded 
 together at all the public places where they made their appearance. A cer- 
 tain instinct drew these two men towards one anotlier, notwithstanding the 
 difference of their habits. They were the rakes of the two systems, who 
 united with the like genius the like love of pleasure, but with a different sort 
 of corruption. Danton had that of the people, Dumouriez that of courts; 
 but, more lucky than his colleague, the latter had only served generously 
 and sword in hand, while Danton had been so unfortunate as to sully a great 
 character, by the atrocities of September. 
 
 Those brilliant saloons where the celebrated men of former days enjoyed 
 their glory ; where during the whole of the last century, Voltaire, Diderot, 
 d'Alembert, Rousseau, had been listened to and applauded — those saloons 
 no longer existed. There was left the simple and select society of Madame 
 Roland, which brought together all the Girondins, the handsome Barbaroux, 
 the clever Douvet, the grave Bazot, the brilliant Guadet, the persuasive 
 Vergniaud, and where still a pure language prevailed, conversations replete 
 with interest, and elegant and polished manners. The ministers met there 
 twice a week, and dined together off a single course. Such was the new 
 republican society, which joined to the graces of old France the gravity of 
 the new, and which was so soon to be swept away by demagogue coarseness. 
 
 Dumouriez attended one of these simple repasts, felt an unpleasant sensa- 
 tion at first in the presence of those former friends whom he had driven 
 from the ministry, and of that woman who appeared to him too austere, and 
 
 calumniated ; he was unjustly punished by his fellow-citizens ; he found an asylum among 
 tyrants, but still he was Themistocles. He was asked to bear arms against his country. *My 
 sword,' said he, * shall never serve tyrants !* and he plunged it into his heart. I will also 
 remind thee of Scipio. Antiochus endeavoured to bribe that great man by offering him a 
 most valuable hostage, his own son. ' Thou hast not wealth enough to purchase my con- 
 science,' replied Scipio, • and nature knows no love superior to the love of country.' 
 
 " Nations are groaning in slavery. Thou wilt soon deliver them. What a glorious mis- 
 sion ! Success is not doubtful ; the citizens who are waiting for thee, hope for thee; and 
 those who are here urge thee on. We must, however, reproach thee with some excess of 
 generosity towards thine enemies ; thou hast conducted back the King of Prussia rather too 
 much in the French manner — in the old French manner, that is to say. (Applause.) But 
 let us hope that Austria will pay double ; she has money; don't spare her; thou canst not 
 make her pay too much for the outrages which her race has committed upon mankind. 
 
 " Thou art going to Brussels, Dumouriez (applause); thou wilt pass through Courtrai. 
 There the French name has been profaned ; the traitor Jarry has burned houses. Thus fat 
 I have spoken only to thy courage. I now speak to thy heart. Be mindful of those unfor* 
 tunate inhabitants of Courtrai ; disappoint not their hopes this time ; promise them the jus- 
 fice of the nation ; the nation will stand by thee. 
 
 " When thou shalt be at Brussels . . , I have nothing to say to thee concerning the con- 
 duct which thou hast to pursue ... If thou there lindest an execrable woman, who came 
 to the foot of the walls of Lille to feast her ferocity with the sight of red-hot balls ... but 
 that woman will not await thee ... If thou shouldst find her, she would be thy prisoner; 
 we have others belonging to her family . . . thou wouldst send her hither ... let her be 
 shaved in such a manner that she never again could wear a wig. 
 
 "At Brussels, liberty will revive under thy auspices. A whole nation will give itself up 
 to joy ; thou wilt restore children to their fathers, wives to their husbands ; the sight of thy 
 happiness will be a recreation to thee after thy labours. Boys, citizens, girls, women, will 
 thronjr around thee, will all embrace thee as their father ! Ah ! how happy wilt thou be, 
 Dumouriez ! . . My wife, she comes from Brussels ; she will embrace thee, too." 
 
 This speech was frequently interrupted by vehement applause. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 417 
 
 to whom he nppeared too licentious : but he supported this situation witn 
 his accustoiY 3(1 spirit, and was touched in particular by tlie sincere cordialitv 
 of Roland. Besides the society of the Girondins, that of tlie artists wa's 
 the only ono which had survived the dispersion of the ancient aristocracy 
 Almost all the artists had warmly embraced a revolution, which aveno-ec 
 them of l\igh-born disdain and promised favour to genius alone. They wel- 
 comed Dumouriez, in their turn, and gave him an entertainment at which 
 all the talents that the capital contained were assembled. But, in the very 
 midst of this entertainment, a strange scene occurred to interrupt it, and to 
 produce as much disgust as surprise. 
 
 Marat, ever prompt to outstrip revolutionary suspicions, was not satisfied 
 with the general. The merciless denouncer of all those who enjoyed the 
 public favour, he had always anticipated by his disgusting invectives the 
 disgrace incurred by the popular leaders. Mirabeau, Bailly, Lafayette, 
 Petion, the Girondins, had been assailed by his abuse, while yet in posses- 
 sion of all tlieir popularity. Since the 10th of August, in particular, he had 
 indulged all the extravagances of his mind; and, though re^olting to upright 
 and reasonable men, and strange at least to hot-headed revolutionists, lie had 
 been encouraged by success. He faded not, therefore, to consider himself 
 as in some measure a public man, essential to the new order of tilings. He 
 spent part of liis time in collecting reports, in circulating them in his paper, 
 and in visiting tlie bureaux for the purpose of redressing the wrongs com- 
 mitted by administrators against the people. Communicating to the public the 
 particulars of Ins life, he declared in one of his numbers ■■ that liis avocations 
 were overwhelming; that, out of his twenty-four hours in the day, he allowed 
 but two for sleep, and one only to the table and to his domestic concerns ; 
 that, besides the hours devoted to his duty as a deputy, he regularly spent 
 six in collecting the complaints of a multitude of unfortunate and oppressed 
 persons, and in endeavouring to obtain redress for them ; that lie passed the 
 remaining hours in reading and answering a multitude of letters, in writing 
 nis observations on public events, in receiving denunciations, in ascertaining 
 the veracity of the denounce s: lastly, in editing his paper and superintend- 
 mg the printing of a great work. For three years, he said, he had not taken 
 a quarter of an liour's recreation ; and it makes one shudder to think what 
 60 inordinate a mind, coupled with such unceasing activity, is capable of 
 producing in a revolution. 
 
 Marat pretended to discover in Dumouriez nothing but an aristocrat of 
 dissolute manners, who was not to be trusted. As an addition to his motives, 
 he had been informed that Dumouriez had recently proceeded with the utmost 
 severity against two battalions of volunteers, who had slaughtered some emi- 
 grant deserters Repairing immediately to the Jacobins, he denounced the 
 general in their tribune, and asked for two commissioners to go with him and 
 question liim concerning his conduct. Montaut and BentaboUe were instandy 
 appointed, and away lie went with them. Dumouriez was not at liome. 
 Marat hurried to the different theatres, and at length learned that Dumouriez 
 was attending an entertainment given to him by the artists at tlie house of 
 Mademoiselle Candeille, a celebrated woman of that day. Marat scrupled 
 not to proceed thither notwithstanding his disgusting costume. Tlie car- 
 riages, the detachments of the national guard, which he found at tlie door of 
 the house where the dinner was given, the presence of Santerre, the com- 
 mandant, and of a great number of deputies, and the arrangements of \he 
 
 • Journal de la R^publique Franjaise, No. iciii., Jan. 9, 1793. 
 VOL. I. — 53 
 
113 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 entertainment, excited his spleen. He boldly went forward and asked foi 
 Dumouriez. A sort of murmur arose at his approach. The mention of hig 
 name caused the disappearance of a number of faces, which, he said, could 
 not endure his accusing looks. Proceeding straightforward to Dumouriez, 
 he loudly accosted him, and demanded an explanation of his treatment of the 
 two battalions. The general eyed him, and then said with a contemptuous 
 curiosity : "Aha! so you are the man they call Marat !" He then surveyed 
 him again from head to foot, and turned his back upon him, without saying 
 another word. As, however, the Jacobins who accompanied Marat appeared 
 milder and more respectable, Dumouriez gave them some explanations, and 
 sent them away satisfied. Marat, who was far from being so, made a great 
 noise in the ante-rooms, abused Santerre, who, he said, acted the part of 
 lackey to the general ; inveighed against the national guard, which contributed 
 to the splendour of the entertainment, and retired, threatening vengeance 
 against all the aristocrats composing the assembly. He instantly hastened 
 to describe in his journal this ridiculous scene, which so correctly delineates 
 the situation of Dumouriez, the fury of Marat, and the manners of that 
 period. ■■ 
 
 * The following account of the visit paid by Marat to Dumouriez at Mademoiselle Can- 
 deille's is extracted from the Journal de la Rcpublique Fran^aise ; it was written by 
 Marat himself, and published in his paper of Tuesday, October 17, 1792 
 
 " Declaration of the Friend of the People. 
 
 "Less surprised than indignant at seeing former valets of the court, placed by the course 
 of events at the head of our armies, and, since the 10th of August, kept in their places by in- 
 fluence, intrigue, and stupidity, carry their audacity so far as to degrade and treat as crimi- 
 nals two patriot battalions, upon the ridiculous and most probably false pretext that some 
 individuals had murdered four Prussian deserters; I presented myself at the tribune of the 
 Jacobins, to expose this odious proceeding, and to apply for two commissioners distinguished 
 for their civism, to accompany me to Dumouriez, and to be witnesses of his answers to my 
 questions. I repaired to him with citizens Bentabolle and Monteau, two of my colleagues 
 in the Conveution. We were told that he was gone to the play and was to sup in town. 
 
 " We knew that he had returned from the Varietes; we went in quest of him to the club 
 of D. Cypher, where we were told that he was expected to be. Labour lost. At length 
 we learned that he was to sup at the little house of Talma, in the Rue Chantereine. A file 
 of carriages and brilliant illuminations pointed out to us the temple where the children of 
 Thalia were entertaining » son of Mars. We were surprised to find Parisian national 
 guards within and without. After passing through an antechamber full of servants, intermixed 
 with heiduks, we arrived at a saloon containing a numerous company. 
 
 " At the door was Santerre, general of the Parisian army, performing the office of lackey, 
 or gentleman-usher. He announced me in a loud voice the moment he saw me, which dis- 
 pleased me exceedingly, inasmuch as it was likely to drive away certain masks which one 
 would like to be acquainted with. However, I saw enough to gain a clue to the intrigues. 
 [ shall say nothing of half a score of fairies destined to grace the entertainment. Politics 
 were probably not the object of their meeting. Neither shall I say anything of the national 
 olficers who were paying their court to the great general, or of the old valets of the court who 
 formed his retinue, in the dress of aides-de-camp. — And lastly, I shall say nothing of tha 
 master of the house, who was among them in the costume of a player. But I cannot help 
 declaring, in iliustratiun of the operations of the Convention, and of the character of the 
 jugglers of decrees, that, in the august company were Kersaint, the great busy-body Lebiun, 
 Roland, Lasource, . . . Chenier, all tools of the faction of the federative republic, anJ Duiaare 
 and Gorsas, their libelling errand-boys. As there was a large party, I distinguished three 
 conspirators only ; perhaps they were more numerous ; and, as it was now still early, it ia 
 probable that they had not all arrived, for tlic Vergniauds, the Buzots, the Camuses, the 
 Rabauts, the Lacroix, the Guadets, the Barbaroux, and other leaders were no doubt of the 
 party, since they belong to the secret conclave. 
 
 " Before I proceed to our conversation with Dumouriez, I shall here pause a moment, 
 .0 make with the judicious reader some observations that will not be misplaced. Ls it to I* 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 419 
 
 Dumouriez had spent four days at Paris, and during that time he had not 
 been able to come to a good understanding with tlie Girondins, tliough he 
 
 conceived that this generalissimo of the republic, who has suffered the Kin^ of Prussia to 
 escape from Verdun, and who has capitulated with the enemy, whom he miijht have cooped 
 up in his camps, and forced to lay down his arms, instead of favouring his retreat, should 
 have chosen so critical a moment to abandon the armies under his command, to run to play- 
 houses, to get himself applauded, and to indulge in orgies at an actor's with nymphs oi" the 
 opera 1 
 
 " Dumouriez has disguised the secret motives which call him to Paris under the pretext ol 
 concerting with the ministers the plan of the operations of the campaign. What! with a 
 Roland, d frere coupe-choux and petty intriguer, acquainted only with the mean ways of 
 lying and low cunning! with a Lepage, a worthy disciple of his patron, Roland ! with a 
 Clavieres, who knows nothing but the terms of stock-brokering ! with a Garat, who compre- 
 hends nothing but the alTectcd phrases and the tricks of an academic parasite. I shall say 
 nothing of Monge ; he is deemed a patriot ; but he is just as ignorant of military operations 
 as his colleagues, who know nothing at all about them. Dumouriez is come to concert with 
 the leaders of the party which is caballing for the establishment of a federative republic. 
 That is his errand. 
 
 " On entering the saloon where the entertainment was given, I perceived plainly that my 
 presence damped the gaiety of the guests, which is not to be wondered at, when it is consi- 
 dered that I am a bugbear to the enemies of the country. Dumouriez, in particular, appeared 
 disconcerted. I begged him to step with me into another room, as I wished to converse with 
 him a few moments in private. I addressed him, and our conversation was word for v.'ord as 
 follows : ' We arc memljcrs of the National Convention, and we come, sir, to beg you to give 
 us some explanation relative to the affair of the two batttalions, the Mauconseil and the Re- 
 publican, accused by you of having murdered four Prussian deserters in cold blood. We 
 have searched the offices of the military committee and those of the war department ; we 
 cannot there find the least proof of the crime; and nobody can furnish information on all 
 these points but yourself.' — ' Gentlemen, I have sent all the documents to the minister.' — 
 'We assure you, sir, that we have in our hands a memorial, drawn up in his office and in 
 his name, purporting that there are no facts whatever for pronouncing upon this alleged 
 crime, and that for such we must address ourselves to you.' — 'But, gentlemen, I have in- 
 formed the Convention, and to it I refer you.' — ' Permit us, sir, to observe, that the informa- 
 tion furnished is not suflicient, since the committees of the Convention, to which this matter 
 has been referred, have declared in their report that it was impossible for them to pronounce 
 for want of particulars and proofs of the crime denounced. We beg you to say whether you 
 know all the circumstances of this affair.' — 'Certainly, of my own knowledge ' — ' Then it is 
 not merely a confidential denunciation made by you on the faith of M. Duchascau V — ' But, 
 gentlemen, when I assort a thing, I think I ought to be believed.' — ' Sir, if we thought as you 
 do on that point, we should not have taken the step that has brought us hither. We have 
 great reasons to doubt ; seveial members of the military committee have informed us that 
 these pretended Prussians were four French emigrants.' — ' Well, gentlemen, if that were the 
 case?' — 'Sir, that would absolutely change the state of the matter, and, without approving 
 beforehand the conduct of the battalions, perhaps they are absolutely innocent: it is the cir- 
 cumstances which provoked the murder that it is important to know. Now, letters from the 
 army state that these emigrants were discovered to be spies sent by the enemy, and that they 
 even rose against the national guards.' — ' What, sir, do you then approve the insubordination 
 of the soldiers V — ' No, sir, I do not approve the insubordination of the soldiers, but I detest 
 the tyranny of the oflicers ; I have too much reason to believe that this is a machination of 
 Duchaseau against the patriot battalions, and the manner in which you have treated them is 
 revolting.' — ' Monsieur Marat, you are too warm ; I cannot enter into explanations with you.' 
 Here Dumouriez, finding himself too closely pressed, extricated himself from the dilemma by 
 leaving us. My two colleagues followed him, and, in the conversation which they had with 
 him, he confined himself to saying that he had sent the documents to the minister. While 
 they were talking, I found myself surrounded by all the aides-de-camp of Dumouriez, and by 
 the officers of the Parisian guard. Santerre strove to appease me: he talked to me about the 
 necessity of subordination in the troops. ♦ I know that as well as you,' I replied ;' but I am 
 disgusted at the manner in which the soldiers of the country are treated : I have still at heart 
 the massacres at Nancy and in the Champ de Mars.' Here some aides-de-canip of Dumou- 
 riez began to declaim against agitators. ' Cease those ridiculous exclamations I' I exclaimed ; 
 there are no agitators in our armies but ttie infamous officers, their spies, and the perfidious 
 
420 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 had among them an intimate friend in the person of Gensonne. He had 
 merely advised tlie latter to reconcile himself with Danton, as with the 
 most powerful man, and the one who, notwithstanding his vices, might 
 become most serviceable to the well-meaning. Neither was Dumouriez on 
 better terms with the Jacobins, with whom he was disgusted, and to whom 
 he WPS an object of suspicion, on account of his supposed friendship with 
 the Girondiiis. His visit to Paris had, therefore, not served him much with 
 either of the parties, but it had proved more beneficial to him in a military 
 respect. 
 
 According to his custom, he had drawn up a general plan, which had been 
 adopted by the executive council. Agreeably to this plan, Montesquiou* 
 was to maintain his position along the Alps, and to secure the great chain 
 as a boundary by completing the conquest of Nice, and striving to keep up 
 the neutrality of Switzerland. Biron was to be reinforced, in order to 
 guard the Rhine from Basle to Landau. A corps of twelve thousand men, 
 under the command of General Meusnier, was destined to move to the rear 
 of Custine, in order to cover his communications. Kellermann had orders 
 to leave his quarters, to pass rapidly between Luxemburg and Treves, to 
 hasten to Coblentz, and thus to do what he had already been advised, and 
 what he and Custine had so long neglected to do. Then, taking the offen- 
 sive with eighty thousand men, Dumouriez was to complete the French 
 territory by the projected acquisition of Belgium. Keeping thus the defen- 
 sive on all the frontiers protected by the nature of the soil, the French would 
 boldly attack only on the open frontier, that of the Netherlands, where, 
 according to the expression of Dumouriez, a man could defend himself only 
 by gaining battles. 
 
 He obtained, by means of Santerre, compliance with his suggestions that 
 
 courtiers, whom we have had the folly to leave at the head of our troops.' I spoke to Moreton 
 Chabrillant and to Bourdoin, one of whom was formerly a valet of the court, and the other a 
 spy of Lafayette. 
 
 "I was indignant at all that I heard, and at all the atrocity that I suspected in the odious 
 conduct of our generals. As I could not bear to stay any longer, I left the party, and I beheld 
 with astonishment in the adjoining room, the doors of which were ajar, several of Dumouriez's 
 heiduks, with drawn swords at their shoulders. I know not what could be the object of this 
 ridiculous farce; if it was contrived for the purpose of intimidating me, it must be admitted 
 that the valets of Dumouriez entertain high notions of liberty. Have patience, gentlemen, 
 we will teach you to know it. Meanwhile be assured that your master dreads the point of 
 my pen much more than I fear the swords of his ragamuffins." 
 
 * "Anne Pierre Montesquiou Fezenzac, born in 174 i, was a major-general, a member 
 of the French Academy, and deputy from the nobility of Paris to the States-general. In 
 1791, at the time of the King's flight, he declared himself devoted to the Assembly, and, 
 renewing his civic oath, was sent into the departments of the Moselle, the Meuse, and the 
 Ardennes, in order to dispose the minds of the people in favour of the Assembly. Soma 
 time after he was appointed commander-in-chief of the army of the South ; he was soon 
 afterwards denounced by Barrere as having sought to favour the King of Sardinia, and hurt 
 the interest of the patriots in his treaty with the republic of Geneva. A decree of accusa- 
 tion was then passed against him, but when the commissioners appointed to seize him 
 arrived at the gates of Geneva, they learned that he was gone into Switzerland, and had 
 carried with him the military chest, to compensate for the property he had left in France. 
 A decree of 1795 left Montesquiou at liberty to return to France; and, in 1797, he reap- 
 peared in the constitutional circle, which the Directory then endeavoured to oppose to the 
 Clichyan party. He died at Paris in 1798." — Biographit Mudenu, E. 
 
 " Montesquiou wrote, in 1798, a work entitled ' On the Administration of Finance in a 
 Kepublic,' which shows a true zeal for the government under which he lived, and a degree 
 of talent well calculated to serve it. Never was he heard to utter a word that could betray 
 .he faintest regret for his station before the Revolution ; and yet he was, perhaps, one of 
 Ibose who had lost by it most power, most honours, and most wealth." — Roiderer. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 421 
 
 the absurd idea of a camp near Paris should be relinquished ; that the men^ 
 artillery, ammunition, provisions, and necessaries for encamping collected 
 there, should be despatched to Flanders for the use of his army, which was 
 in want of everything ; that to these should be added shoes, great-coats, and 
 six millions in cash to supply the soldiers with ready money, till they should 
 enter the Netherlands, after which lie hoped to be able to pro\ide for him- 
 self. He set out, about the 16th of October, with somewhat different notions 
 of what is called public gratitude, on rather worse terms with the parties 
 than before, and at the utmost indemnified for his journey by certain military 
 arrangements made with the executive council. 
 
 During this interval, the Convention had continued to act ao;ainst the 
 commune, by urging its renewal and closely watching all its proceedings. 
 Petion had been elected mayor by a majority of 13,899 votes, while Robes- 
 pierre had obtained but twenty-three, Billaud-Varennes fourteen, Panis 
 eighty, and Danton eleven. The popularity of Robespierre and Petion 
 must not, however, be measured according to this difierence in the number 
 of votes ; because people were accustomed to see in the one a mayor, and in 
 the other a deputy, and did not care to make anything else of either; but 
 this immense majority proves the popularity which the principal chief of the 
 Girondin party still possessed. We should not omit to mention that Bailly 
 obtained two votes — a singular memento bestowed on that worthy magistrate 
 of 1789. Petion declined the mayoralty, weary of the convulsions of the 
 commune, and preferring the functions of deputy to the National Con- 
 vention. 
 
 The three principal measures projected in the famous sitting of the 24th 
 were a law against instigations to murder, a decree relative to the formation 
 of a departmental guard, and, lastly, an accurate report of the state of Paris. 
 The two former, intrusted to the commission of nine, excited a continual 
 outcry at the Jacobins, at the commune, and in the sections. The commis- 
 g.'on of nine nevertheless proceeded with its task ; and from several depart- 
 ments, among others Marseilles and Calvados, there arrived, as before the 
 10th of August, battalions which anticipated the decree respecting the de- 
 partmental guard. Roland, to whom the third measure, namely, the report 
 on the state of the capital, was allotted, performed his part without weakness 
 and with the strictest truth. He described and excused the inevitable con- 
 fusion of the first insurrection ; but he delineated with energy, and branded 
 with reprobation, the crimes added by the 2d of September to the revolution 
 of the 10th of August. He exposed all the excesses of the commune, its 
 abuses of power, its arbitrary imprisonments, and its immense peculations. 
 He concluded with these words : 
 
 '« A wise department, but possessing litde power ; an active and despotic 
 commune ; an excellent population, but the sound part of which is intimi- 
 dated or under constraint, while the other is wrought upon by flatterers and 
 inflamed by calumny; confusion of powers; abuse and contempt of the 
 authorities; the public force weak or reduced to a cipher by being badly 
 commanded ; — such is Paris !" 
 
 His report was received with applause by the usual majority, though, 
 durino- the reading of it, some murmurs had been raised by the Mountain. 
 A letter, written by an individual to a magistrate, communicated by that ma- 
 gistrate to the executive council, and unveiling the design of a new 2d of 
 September against a part of the Convention, excited great agitation. In thai 
 letter there was this expression relative to the plotters ; " They are deter- 
 mined to let none speak but Robespierre." At these words, all eyes were 
 
422 HISTORl OF THE 
 
 tixed upon him. Some expressed their indignation, others m-ged him to 
 speak. He accordingly addressed the Assembly, for the purpose of counter 
 acting the impression produced by Roland's report, which he termed a 
 defamatory romance ; and he insisted that publicity ought not to be given to 
 that report, before those who were accused, and himself in particular, had 
 been heard. Then, expiating on so much as related to him personally, he 
 began to justify himself; but he could not gani a hearing on account of the 
 noise which prevailed in the hall. Robespierre, havnig succeeded in quell- 
 ing the uproar, recommenced his apology, and challenged his adversaries to 
 accuse him to his face, and to produce a single positive proof against him 
 At this challenge, Louvet started up. " It is I," said he ; "I who accused 
 tliee." He was already at the foot of the tribune when he uttered these 
 words, and Barbaroux and Rebecqui had followed him thither to support the 
 accusation. At this sight Robespierre was agitated, and his countenance 
 betrayed his emotion. ■■' He proposed that his accuser should be heard, and 
 that he should then have leave to reply. Danton, who succeeded him in the 
 tribune, complained of the system of calumny organized against the com- 
 mune and the deputation of Paris, and repeated, concerning Marat, who was 
 the principal cause of all these accusations, what he had already declared, 
 namely, that he disliked him, that he had experienced his volcanic and un- 
 sociable temper, and that all idea of a triumviral coalition was absurd. He 
 concluded by moving that a day should be fixed for discussing the report. 
 The Assembly ordered it to be printed, but deferred its distribution among 
 the departments till Louvet and Robespierre should have been heard. 
 
 Louvet was a man of great boldness and courage. His patriotism was 
 sincere, but his hatred of Robespierre was blended with resentment occa 
 sioned by a personal quarrel, begun at the Jacobins, continued in La Senti 
 nelle, revived in the electoral assembly, and rendered more violent since he 
 was face to face with his jealous rival in the National Convention. With 
 extreme petulance of disposition, Louvet united a romantic and credulous 
 imagination, which misled him and caused him to suppose concerted plans 
 and plots, where there was nothing more than the spontaneous effect of the 
 passions. He firmly believed in his own suppositions, and strove to force 
 his friends also to put faith in them. But in the cool good sense of Roland 
 and Petion, and in the indolent impartiality of Vergniaud, he had to encoun- 
 ter an opposition which mortified him. Buzot, Barbaroux, Guadet, without 
 being equally credulous, without supposing such complicated machinations, 
 believed in the wickedness of their adversaries, and seconded Louvet's 
 attacks from indignation and courage. Salles, deputy of La Mcurthe, an 
 inveterate enemy to anarchists in the Constituent Assembly and in the Con- 
 vention — Salles, endowed with a sombre and violent imagination, was alone 
 accessible to all the suggestions of Louvet, and, like him, was a believer in 
 vast plots, hatched in the commune, and extending to foreign countries. 
 Passionate friends of liberty, Louvet and Salles could not consent to impute 
 to it so many evils, and they were fain to believe that the party of the Moun- 
 tain, and Marat in particular, were paid by the emigrants and England to 
 urge on the Revolution to crime, to dishonour, and to general confusion. 
 More uncertain relative to Robespierre, they saw in him at least a tyrant 
 
 • " Robespierre, whose countenance haJ till then been firm, and his manner composed, 
 flras now profoundly agitateJ. He had once measured his powers at the Jacobins with thii 
 redoubtable adversary, whom he knew to be clever, impetuous, and regardless of conse" 
 ^uences.'' — Mignet. E. 
 
FREXCH REVOLUTION 423 
 
 actuated b)- pride and ambition, and aspiring, no matter by what means, to 
 the supreii/ 3 power. 
 
 Louvet, having resolved to attack Robespierre boldly, and to allow him 
 no rest, had liis speech in readiness, and had brought it with him on the day 
 when Roland was to present his report Thus he Avas quite prepared to 
 support the accusation when he obtained permission to speak. He instantly 
 availed liimself of it, and immediately after Roland. 
 
 Tlie Girondins were already sufficiendy disposed to form false notions of 
 events, and to find a plot where nothing but violent passions really existed : 
 but to the credulous Louvet tlie conspiracy appeared much more evident and 
 more intimately combined. In the growing exaggeration of the Jacobins, 
 and in tlie favour which Robespierre's superciliousness had found witli them 
 during the year 1792, he beheld a plot framed by the ambitious tribune. He 
 pictured him surrounded by satellites to whose violence he gave up liis op- 
 ponents ; erecting himself into the object of aii idolatrous worship ; causing 
 it to be iTunoured before the 10th of ^Vugust, tliat he alone could save liberty 
 and France, and, when the 10th of August arrived, hiding himself from the 
 light, coming forth again two days after the danger, proceeding direct to the 
 commune, notwithstanding his promise never to accept any place, and, of 
 his sole authority, seating himself at the bureau of the general council ; there, 
 seizing the control over a blind bourgeoisie, instigating it at pleasure to all 
 sorts of excesses, insulting for its sake the Legislative Assembly, and demand- 
 ing decrees of tliat Assembly upor. penalty of the tocsin ; directing, but without 
 showing himself, the massacres and the robberies of September, in order to 
 uphold the municipal authority by terror ; and afterwards despatching emis- 
 saries over all France to recommend the same crimes and to induce the pro- 
 vinces to acknowledge the supremacy and the authority of Paris. Robes- 
 pierre, added Louvet, wished to destroy the national representation, in order 
 to substitute for it the commune which he swayed, and to give us the govern- 
 ment of Rome, where, under the name of jnimicipia, the pro\ inccs were 
 subject to the sovereignty of the metropolis. Thus, master of Paris, which 
 would have been mistress of France, he would have become the successor 
 of overthrown royalty. Seeing, however, the meeting of a new assembly 
 near at bond, he had passed from the general council to tlie electoral assem- 
 bly, and directed the votes by terror, in order to make himself master of the 
 Convention by means of the deputation of Paris. 
 
 It was he, Robespierre, who had recommended to the electors that man 
 ^f blood whose incendiary placards had filled France with surprise and hor- 
 ror. That libeller, with whose name Louvet would not, he said, soil his 
 lips, was but the spoiled chUd of murder, who possessed a courage for 
 preacliing up crime and calumniating the purest citizens, in which the cau- 
 tious Robespierre w^as deficient. As tor Danton, Louvet excluded him from 
 the accusation, nay, he was astonished that he siiould have ascended the 
 tribune to repel an attack which was not directed against him. He did not, 
 however, separate him from the perpetrations of September, because, in 
 those disastrous days, when all the authorities, the Assembly, the ministers, 
 the mayor, spoke in vain to stop the massacres, the minister of justice alone 
 did not speak: because, lasUy, in the notorious placards, he alone was ex- 
 cepted from the calumnies poured forth upon the purest of the citizens. 
 "And canst thou," exclaimed Louvet, "canst thou, O Danton, clear thyself 
 in the eyes of posterity from this dishonouring exception?" These words, 
 equally generous and imprudent, were loudly cheered. 
 
 This accusation, continually applauded, had not, however, been heard 
 
424 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 without many murmurs. " Procure silence for me," Louvet had said to the 
 president, '■'■for J am going to touch the sore, and the patient will cry out." 
 " Keep your word," said Danton ; " touch the sore." And whenever mur- 
 murs arose, there were cries of " Silence ! silence, sore ones V^ 
 
 Louvet at last summed up his charges. " I accuse thee, Robespierre," 
 he exclaimed, '* of having calumniated the purest citizens, and of having done 
 so on the day when calumnies were proscriptions. I accuse tliee of having 
 put thyself forward as an object of idolatry, and of having spread abroad that 
 thou wert the only man capable of saving France. I accuse thee of having 
 vilified, insulted, and persecuted the national representation, of having tyran- 
 nized over tlie electoral assembly of Paris, of having aimed at the supreme 
 power by calumny, violence, and terror — and I demand a committee to in- 
 vestigate thy conduct." Louvet then proposed a laAV condemning to banish- 
 ment every one who should make his name a subject of division among the 
 citizens. He proposed that to the measures the plan of which the commis- 
 sion of nine was preparing, should be added a new one, for placing the armed 
 force at the disposal of the minister of the interior. " Lastly," said he, "I 
 demand on the spot a decree of accusation against Marat ! . . . Heavens !" 
 he exclaimed, " O heavens! I have named him !" 
 
 Robespierre, stunned by the applause lavished on his adversary, desired 
 to be heard. Amidst the uproar and murmurs excited by his presence, he 
 hesitated ; his features were distorted, his voice faltered. He nevertheless 
 obtained a hearing and demanded time to prepare his defence. He was 
 allowed time, and his defence was adjourned to the 5th of November. This 
 delay was fortunate for the accused, for the Assembly, excited by Louvet, 
 was filled with strong indig-nation. 
 
 In the evening, there was great agitation at the Jacobins, where all the 
 sittings of the Convention were reviewed. A great number of members 
 hurried in dismay to relate the horrid conduct of Louvet, and to demand 
 the erasure of his name. He had calumniated the society, inculpated Dan- 
 ton, Santerre, Robespierre, and Marat. He had even demanded an accusa- 
 tion against the two latter, proposed sanguinary laws, which attacked the 
 liberty of the press, and lastly, proposed the Athenian ostracism. Legendre 
 said that it was a concerted trick, since Louvet had his speech ready pre- 
 pared, and that Roland's report had evidently no other object than to furnish 
 an occasion for this diatribe. 
 
 Fabre d'Eglantine complained that scandal was daily increasing, and that 
 people were bent on calumniating Paris and the patriots. " By connecting," 
 said he, "petty conjectures with petty suppositions, people make out a vast 
 conspiracy, and yet they will not tell us either where it is, or who are the 
 agents and wliat the means. If there were a man who had seen everything, 
 appreciated everything, in both parties, you could not doubt that this man, 
 a friend to truth, would be the very person to make known the truth. That 
 man is Petion. Force his virtue to tell all that he has seen, and to speak 
 out concerning the crimes imputed to the patriots. Whatever delicacy he 
 may feel for his friends, I dare affirm that intrigues have not corrupted liim. 
 Petion is still pure and sincere. He wanted to speak to-day. Force him 
 to explain himself."* 
 
 • Among the coolest and most impartial minds of the Revolution must be placed Petion. 
 No one has formed a sounder judgment of the two parties which divided the Convention 
 Flls equity was so well known, that both sides agreed to choose him for their umpire. The 
 accusations which took place at the very opening of the Assembly excited warm disputes 
 «t the Jacobins. Fabre d'Eglantine proposed that the matter should be referred to Pe 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 425 
 
 Merlin disapproved of making Petion judge between Robespierre and 
 Louvet because it was violating equality thus to set up one citizen as the 
 
 lion's decision. On this subject he thus expressed himself in the sittinc; of October 29 
 1792: * ' 
 
 "There is another way which I think useful and which will produce a greater effect. 
 Almost always when any vast intrigue has been on foot, it has had need of power. It hag 
 been obliged to make great efforts to attach a great personal credit to itself. If there existed 
 a man who had seen everything, who had appreciated everything in both parties, you could 
 nDt doubt that this man, a friend to truth, would be most fit to make it known. Well, 
 I propose that you invite this man, a member of your society, to pronounce upon the crimes 
 that are imputed to the patriots. Force his virtue to tell all that he has seen — that man ia 
 Petion. Whatever partiality a man may have for his friends, I venture to assert that 
 intriguers have not corrupted Petion ; he is still pure, still sincere. I say so here. I fre- 
 quently talk to him in the Convention, in moments of agitation, and he always tells me 
 that he grieves. I see that he does grieve — inwardly. 'J'his morning he determined to 
 ascend the tribune. He cannot refuse to write you his opinion, and we sl«ll see if intriguerg 
 can divert him from it. 
 
 " Observe, citizens, that this step of itself will prove that you seek noming but the truth. 
 It is an homnge which you pay to the virtue of a good patriot, with the more urgent motives, 
 since liars have wrapped themselves up in his virtue to give themselves consequence. I 
 demand that the motion be put to the vote." {Applause.) 
 
 Legendre then spoke. " The thing was contrived, that is evident. The distribution of 
 Brissot's speech, the report of the minister of the interior, the speech of Louvet, brought in 
 his pocket, all proved that the matter wus concerted. The speech of Brissot on the erasure 
 contains all that Louvet has said. The report of Roland was intended to furnish Louvet 
 with an opportunity for speaking. I approve of Fabre's motion; the Convention will soon 
 pronounce; Robcsfiiorre is to be heard on Monday. I beg the society to suspend the deci- 
 sion. It is impossible that in a free country virtue should succumb to crime.'' 
 
 After this quotation, I think it right to introduce the paper written liy Petion, relative to 
 the dispute between Louvet and Robespierre. 'J'his paper and the extracts given elsewhere 
 from Garat, contain the most valuable particulars res])ceting the conduct and character of the 
 men of that time, and they arc documents which history ought to preserve as most capable 
 of conveying just ideas of that epoch. 
 
 " Citizens, I had determined to observe the most absolute silence relative to the events 
 which have occurred since the 10th of August; motives of delicacy and solicitude foi ihe 
 public welfare decided me to use this reserve. 
 
 "But it is impossible to be silent any longer: on both sides my testimony is called for, 
 every one urges me to declare my sentiments ; I will tell with frankness what I know of 
 men, what I think of things. 
 
 " I have been a near spectator of the scenes of the Revolution. I have seen the cabals, 
 the intrigues, the tumultuous struggles between tyranny and liberty, between vice and 
 virtue. 
 
 " When the working of the human passions is laid bare, when we perceive the secret 
 springs which have directed the most important operations, when we know all the perils 
 which liberty has incurred, when we penetrate into the abyss of corruption which threatened 
 every moment to ingulf us, we ask ourselves with astonishment by what series of prodigies 
 we have arrived at the point where we this day are ! 
 
 "Revolutions ought to be seen at a distance ; this veil is highly necessary to them ; ages 
 efface the stains which darken them; posterity perceives only the results. Our descendants 
 will deem us great. Let us render them better than ourselves. 
 
 " I pass over the circumstances anterior to that ever-memorable day^, which erected liberty 
 upon the ruins of tyranny, and changed the monarchy into a republic. 
 
 " The men who have attributed to themselves the glory of that day are the men to whom it 
 least belongs: it is due to those who prepared it; it is due to the imperious nature of things; 
 it is due to the brave federalists, and to their secret directory, which had long been concerting 
 the plan of the insurrection ; it is due to the people ; lastly, it is due to the guardian spirit 
 which has constantly presided over the destinies of France ever since the first assembly ot 
 her representatives. 
 
 "Success, it must be admitted, was for a moment uncertain; and those who are really 
 acquainted with the particulars of that day know who were the intrepid defenders of the 
 country, that prevented the Swiss and all the satellites of despotism from remaining masters 
 
 VOL. I. — 5-i 
 
426 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Bupreme judge of others. "Besides," said he, " Petioii is no doubt a 
 respectable man, but, should he swerve ! ... is he not man ? Is not Petion 
 
 of the field of battle, and who they were that rallied the civic legions, which v/ere for a mo- 
 ment staggered. 
 
 " That day had been brought about too without the concurrence of the commissioners 
 of several sections assembled at the house of the commune. The members of the old 
 municipality, who had not separated the whole night, were still sitting at half-past nine in 
 the morning. 
 
 " These commissioners conceived, nevertheless, a grand idea, and took a bold step by pos« 
 sessing themselves of all the municipal powers, and in stepping into the place of a general 
 council, of whose weakness and corruption they were apprehensive. They courageously 
 risked their lives in case success should not justify the enterprise. 
 
 " Had these commissioners been wise enough to lay down their authority at the right time, 
 to return to the rank of private citizens after the patriotic action which they had performed, 
 they would have covered themselves with glory ; but they could not withstand the allurement 
 of power, and the ambition of governing took possession of them. 
 
 " In the first intoxicating moments of the triumph of liberty, and after so violent a com- 
 motion, it was impossible that everything should be instantly restored to tranquillity and to 
 its accustomed order; it would have been unjust to require this: the new council of the 
 commune was then assailed with reproaches that were not well founded, and that proved an 
 ignorance both of its situation and of circumstances; but these commissioners began 
 to deserve them, when they themselves prolonged the revolutionary movement beyond the 
 proper time. 
 
 " The National Assembly had spoken out ; it had assumed a grand character ; it had 
 passed decrees which saved the empire ; it had suspended the King ; it had effaced the line 
 of demarcation which divided the citizens into two classes ; it had called together the Con- 
 vention. The royalist party was cast down. It was necessary thenceforth to rally round 
 it, to fortify it with opinion, to environ it with confidence ; duty and sound policy dictated 
 this course. 
 
 " The commune deemed it more glorious to vie with the Assembly. It began a struggle 
 likely only to throw discredit on all that had passed, to induce a belief that the Assembly 
 was under the irresistible yoke of circumstances; it obeyed or withstood decrees according 
 as they favoured or thwarted its views; in its representations to the legislative body it used 
 imperious and irritating language; it affected power, and knew not either how to enjoy ita 
 triumphs or to cause them to be forgiven. 
 
 " Pains had been successfully taken to persuade some that, so long as the revolutionary 
 state lasted, power had reverted to its source, that the National Assembly was without cha- 
 racter, that its existence was precarious, and that the communal assemblies were the only 
 legal depositories of authority. 
 
 " To others it had been insinuated that the leaders of opinion in the National Assembly 
 entertained perfidious designs, and intended to overthrow liberty, and to deliver the republic 
 into the hands of foreigners. 
 
 " Hence a great number of members of the council conceived that they were exercising a 
 legitimate right when they usurped authority, that they were resisting oppression when they 
 opposed the law, and that they were performing an act of civism when they were violating 
 their duties as citizens; nevertheless, amidst this anarchy, the commune from time to time 
 passed salutary resolutions. 
 
 "I had been retained in my office; but it was now merely an empty title; I sought its 
 functions to no purpose ; they were dispersed among a thousand hands, and everybody exer- 
 cised them. 
 
 " I went during the first days to the council. I was alarmed at the tumult which prevailed 
 in that assembly, and still more at the spirit by which it was swayed. It was no longer an 
 administrative body, deliberating on the communal affairs ; it was a political assembly, deem- 
 ing itself invested with full powers, discussing the great interests of the state, examining the 
 laws enacted, and promulgating new ones ; nothing was there talked of but plots against tha 
 public liberty; citizens were denounced; they were summoned to the bar, they were publicly 
 examined, they were tried, they were dismissed, acquitted, or confined ; the ordinary rules 
 were set aside. Such was the agitation of the public mind, that it was impossible to contro' 
 this torrent ; all the deliberations were carried on with the impetuosity of enthusiasm ; they 
 followed one another with frightful rapidity ; night and day there was no interruption ; the 
 council was continually sitting. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 427 
 
 a friend of Brissot, and of Roland? Does not Petion admit to his house La- 
 source, Verii:niaud, Barbaroux, all the intriffuers who are compromising 
 liberty?" - ' ' ^ f ^ 
 
 " I would not have my name attached to a multitude of acts so irregular, so contrary to 
 Bound principles. 
 
 " I \vas equally sensible how wise and how useful it would be not to approve, not to 
 sanction by my presence, all that was done. Those members of the council who were 
 airaid to see me there, who were annoyed at my attendance, strongly desired that the people, 
 whoso confidence I retained, should believe that I presided over its operations, and that no- 
 thmg was done but in concert with me; my reserve on this point increased their enmity ; 
 but they durst not display it loo openly, for fear of displeasing the people, whose favour they 
 coveted. 
 
 " I rarely attended ; and the conduct which I pursued in this very delicate situation between 
 the old municipality, which complained of its removal, and the new one which pretended to 
 be legally instituted, was not unserviceable to the public tranquillity ; for, if I had then pro- 
 nounced decisively for or against, I should have occasioned a rupture that might have been 
 attended with most mischievous consequences. In everything there is a point of maturity 
 which it is requisite to know how to seize. 
 
 "The administration was neglected ; the mayor was no longer a centre of unity ; all the 
 threads that I held in my hand were cut; the power was dispersed; the action of superin- 
 tendence was destitute of power; the restraining action was equally so. 
 
 " Robespierre assumed, then, the ascendency in the council, and it could scarcely have 
 been otherwise under the circumstances in which we were, and with the temper of his mind. 
 I heard him deliver a speech, which grieved me to the soul ; the decree for opening the bar- 
 riers was under discussion, and on this topic he launched out into extremely animated decla- 
 mations, full of the extravagances of a gloomy imagination: he saw precipices beneath hia 
 feet, plots for the destruction of liberty ; he pointed out the alleged conspirators ; he ad- 
 dressed himself to the people, heated their minds, and produced in his hearers the strongest 
 ferment. 
 
 " I replied to this speech for the purpose of restoring calmness, dispelling those dark illu- 
 sions, and bringing back the discussion to the only point that ought to occupy the attention 
 of the assembly. 
 
 "Robespierre and his partisans were thus hurrying the commune into inconsiderate pro- 
 ceedings — into extreme courses. 
 
 " I was not on this account suspicious of the intentions of Robespierre. I found more fault 
 with his head than with his heart; but the consequences of these gloomy visions excited in 
 me not the less apprehension. 
 
 "The tribunes of the council rang every day with violent invectives. The members could 
 not persuade themselves that they were magistrates, appointed to carry the laws into execu- 
 tion and to maintain order. They always considered themselves as forming a revolutionary 
 association. 
 
 " I'he assembled sections received this influence, and communicated it in their turn, so that 
 all Paris was at once in a ferment. 
 
 " The committee of surveillance of the commune filled the prisons. It cannot be denied 
 that, if several of its arrests were just and necessary, others amounted to a stretch of the law 
 The chiefs were not so much to he blamed for this as their agents ; the police had bad ad' 
 visers; one man in particular, whose name has become a by-word, whose name alone strikea 
 terror into the souls of all peaceable citizens, seemed to have seized the direction of its movo- 
 ments. Assiduous in his attendance at all conferences, he interfered in all matters; he 
 talked, he ordered, like a master. I complained loudly of this to the commune, and I con- 
 cluded my opinion in these words : ' Marat is either the most wrongheaded or the most wicked 
 of men.' From that day I have never mentioned him. 
 
 "Justice was slow in pronouncing upon the fate of the prisoners, and the prison became 
 more and more crowded. On the 23d of August, a section came in deputation to the council 
 of the commune, and formally declared that the citizens, tired of and indignant at the delay 
 of judgment, would break open the doors of those asylums, and sacrifice the culprits confined 
 
 in them to their vengeance This petition, couched in the most furious language, met 
 
 with no censure ; nay, it received applause ! 
 
 " On the 25th, from one thousand to twelve hundred armed citizens set out from Paiia ia 
 -emove the stat£ prisoners confined at Orleans to other places. 
 
42S HISTORY OF THE 
 
 Fabre's motion was withdrawn, and Robespierre the younger, assuming 
 a lugubrious tone, as the relatives of accused persons were accustomed to do 
 
 " Disastrous intelligence arrived to increase still more the agitation of the public mind ; the 
 treason of Longwy became known, and some days afterwards, the siege of Verdun. 
 
 " On the 37th, the National Assembly invited the department of Paris, and those contig joua 
 to it, to furnish thirty thousand armed men, to be despatched to the frontiers. This decree 
 excited a fresh sensation, which combined with that already prevailing. 
 
 "On the 31st, the acquittal of Montmorin produced a popular commotion. It was ru- 
 moured that he had been saved through the perfidy of an emissary of the King, who had led 
 the jurors into error, 
 
 " At the same moment a revelation of a plot made by a condemned person was published 
 •^a plot tending to eflfect the escape of all the prisoners, who were then to spread themselves 
 through the city, to commit all sorts of excesses, and to carry off the King. 
 
 *'x\gitation was at its height. The commune, in order to excite the enthusiasm of the 
 citizens, and to induce them to enrol themselves the more freely, had resolved that they should 
 assemble with great parade in the Champ de M,irs amidst the discharge of cannon. 
 
 " The 2d of September arrived. Oh, day of horror ! The alarm-gun was fired, the tocsin 
 rang. At this doleful and alarming sound, a mob collected, broke into the prisons, murder- 
 ing and slaughtering. Manuel and several deputies of the National Assembly repaired to 
 those scer^es of carnage. Their efforts were useless; the victims were sacriticed in their very 
 arms ! I was, meanwhile, in a false security ; I was ignorant of these cruelties ; for some 
 time past, nothing whatever had been communicated to me. At length I was informed of 
 them, but how ? in a vague, indirect, disfigured manner. I was told at the same time that 
 all was over. The most afflicting particulars afterwards reached me ; but I felt thoroughly 
 convinced that the day which had witriessed such atrocious scenes could never return. They 
 nevertheless continued: I wrote to the commandant-general. I required him to despatch 
 forces to the prisons; at first he gave me no answer, I wrote again. He told me that he 
 had given his orders ; nothing indicated that those orders were attended to. Still they con- 
 tinued : I went to the council of the commune ; thence I repaired to the hotel of La Force 
 with several of my colleagues. The street leading to that prison was crowded with very 
 
 peaceable citizens; a weak guard was at the door; I entered Never will the spectacle 
 
 that I there beheld be effaced from my memory. I saw two municipal officers in their scarfs; 
 I saw three men quietly seated at a table, with lists of the prisoners lying open before them: 
 these were calling over the names of the prisoners. Other men were examining them, others 
 performing the office of judges and jurors; a dozen executioners, with bare arms, covered 
 with blood, some with clubs, others v/ilh swords and cutlasses dripping with gore, were 
 executing the sentences forthwith; citizens outside awaiting these sentences — with impa- 
 tience observing the saddest silence at the decrees of death, and raisiing shouts of joy at those 
 of acquittal. • 
 
 " And the men who sat as judges, and those who acted as executioners, felt the same 
 security as if the law had called them to perform those functions. They boasted to me of 
 their justice, of their attention to distinguish the innocent from the guilty, of the services 
 which they had rendered. They demanded — will it be believed 1 — they demanded pay- 
 ment for the time they had been so employed !....! was really confounded to hefir them ! 
 
 " I addressed to them the austere language of the law. I spoke to them with the feeling 
 of profound indignation with which I was penetrated. I made them all leave the place 
 before me. No sooner had I gone myself than they returned; I went back to the places to 
 drive them away; but in the night they completed their horrid butchery. 
 
 "Were these murders commanded — were they directed, by any persons'? I have had 
 lists before me, I have received reports, and I have collected particulars. If I had to pro- 
 nounce as judge, I could not say. This is the culprit. 
 
 " It is my opinion that those crimes would not have had such free scope, that they might 
 have been stopped, if all those who had power in their hands and energy had viewed them 
 with horror; but I will afTirm, because it is true, that several of these public men, of these 
 defenders of the country, conceived that those disastrous and disgraceful proceedings were 
 necessary, that they purged the empire of dangerous persons, that they struck terror intd 
 the souls of the conspirators, and that these crimes, morally odious, were politically 
 serviceable. 
 
 " Yes this is what cooled the zeal of those to whom the law had committed the mainte 
 nance of order — of those to whom it had assigned the protection of persons and property. 
 
 "It is obvious how the 2d, 3d, 4th, and 5th of September may be connected with the im 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 429 
 
 at Rome, complained that he was not calumniated like his brother. «' It is 
 a moment," said he, "of the greatest danger. All the people are not for 
 
 mortal lOlh of August; how the former may be representeJ as a sequel to the revolutionary 
 movement imf-arted on that day, the first in the annals of the republic; but I cannot bring 
 myself to confound glory with infamy, and to stain the 10th of August with the atrocities of 
 the 2d of September. 
 
 "The committee of surveillance actually issued an order for the arrest of Roland, the 
 minister. This was on the 4th, and the massacres still continued. Danton was informed 
 of it; he came to the mairie .■ he was with Robespierre; he warmlv inveighed against this 
 arbitrary, this mad act ; it would have ruined, not Rolaiid, but those 'who decreed it ; Danton 
 obtained its revocation ; it was buried in oblivion. 
 
 " I had an explanation with Robespierre ; it was very warm. To his face I have never 
 spared those reproaches which friendship has tempered in his absence. I said to him, ' Ro- 
 bespierre, you are doing a great deal of mischief. Your denunciations, your alarms, your 
 animosities, your suspicions, agitate the people. But come, explain yourself. Have you 
 facts? have you proofs ] I am ready to meet you ; I am attached to truth alone; I want but 
 liberty.' 
 
 " ' YoQ suffer yourself to be surrounded, you suffer yourself to be prepossessed,' said he ; 
 'you are kasaed against me; you see my enemies every day; you see Brissot and his 
 party.' 
 
 " • You are mistaken, Robespierre, No man is more on his guard than myself against 
 prepossessions, or judges more coolly of men and things. I see Brissot, it is true, though 
 very rarely : but you do not know him, whereas I have known him from a boy. I have 
 seen him in those moments when the whole souf exhibits itself to view, when it abandons 
 itself without reserve to friendship and confidence. I know his disinterestedness, I know his 
 principles, and I protest to you that they are pure. Those who make a party leader of him 
 have not the slightest idea of his character! he possesses intelligence, and knowledge, but 
 he has neither the reserve, nor the dissimulation, nor the insinuating manners, nor that 
 spirit of sequence, which constitute a party leader, and what will surprise you is that, instead 
 of leading others, he is very easily misled himself.' 
 
 " Robespierre persisted in his opinion, but confined himself to generalities. ' Do let U3 
 understand one another,' said I: ' tell me frankly what you have upon your mind, what you 
 know.' 
 
 " ' Well, then,' he replied, ' I believe that Brissot is with Brunswick.' 
 
 " ' What an egregious mistake !' I exclaimed : ' nay, it is truly insanity : that is the way 
 In which your imagination misleads you: would not Brunswick be the first to cut off his 
 head 1 Brissot is not silly enough to doubt it. Which of us seriously can capitulate] which 
 of us does not risk his lifel Let us banish unjust suspicions.' 
 
 " I return to the events of which I have given you a faint sketch. These events, and some 
 of those which preceded the celebrated 10th of August, an attentive consideration of the facts 
 and of a multitude of circumstances, have induced a belief that intriguers were striving to 
 make a tool of the people, in order with the people to make themselves masters of the 
 supreiTie authority. Robespierre has been openly named; his connexions have been exa- 
 mined, his conduct analyzed ; an expression dropped, it is said, by one of his friends, has been 
 caught up, and it has been inferred that Robespierre cherished the mad ambition of becoming 
 the dictator of his country. 
 
 "The character of Robespierre accounts for his actions. Robespierre is extremely suspi- 
 cious and distrustful. He everywhere perceives plots, treasons, precipices. His bilious 
 temperament, his splenetic imagination, present all objects to him in gloomy colours. Impe- 
 rious in his opinion, listening to none but himself, impatient of contradiction, never forgiving 
 any one who may have hurt his self-love, and never acknowledging himself in the wrong; 
 denouncing on the slightest grounds and irritating himself on the slightest suspicion, always 
 conceiving that people are watching and designing to persecute him; boasting of himself 
 and talking without reserve of his services; an utter stranger to decorum, and thus injuring 
 the cause which he defends ; coveting above all things the favour of the people, continually 
 paying court to them, and earnestly seeking their applause ; it is this, it is, above all, this 
 last weakness that, mixing itself up with all the acts of his public life, has induced a belief 
 that Robespierre aspired to high destinies, and that he wanted to usurp the dictatorial power. 
 
 " For my part, I cannot persuade myself that this chimera has seriously engaged his 
 thoughts, that it has been the object of his wishes and the aim of his ambition. 
 
 *• He is, nevertheless, a man who has intoxicated himself with this fantastic notion, wha 
 
430 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 us. It is OTily the citizens of Paris who are sufficiently enlightened : tha 
 others are so but in a very imperfect degree. It is possible, therefore, that 
 innocence may succumb on Monday ; for the Convention has heard out the 
 long lie of Louvet. "Citizens!" he exclaimed, "I have had a terrible 
 fright. Methought assassins were going to butcher my brother. I have 
 heard men say that he would perish by such hands only. Another told me 
 that he would gladly be his executioner."* At these words, several mem- 
 bers rose, and declared that they too had been threatened, that it was by 
 Barbaroux, by Rebecqui, and by several citizens in the tribunes ; that those 
 who threatened them said, "We must get rid of Marat and Robespierre." 
 The members then thronged around the younger Robespierre and promised 
 to protect his brother; and it was determined thaft all those who had friends 
 or relatives in the departments should write for the purpose of enlighteninof 
 the public opinion. Robespierre the younger, on leaving the tribune, did 
 not fail to add a calumny. Anacharsis Clools, he said, had assured him that 
 he was every day brcakhig lances at Roland's against federalism. 
 
 Next came the fiery Chabot. What particularly offended him in Louvet's 
 speech was, that he attributed the 10th of August to himself and his friends, 
 and the 2d of September to two hundred murderers. " Now," said Chabot, 
 " I myself well remember that, on the evening of the 9th of August, I 
 addressed myself to the gentlemen of the right side, to propose the insurrec- 
 tion to them, and that they replied by curling up their lips into a smile. I 
 know not then what right they have to attribute to themselves the 10th of 
 August. As for the 2d of September, its author is also that same populace 
 which produced the 10th of August in spite of them, and which, after the 
 victory, wished to avenge itself. Louvet asserts that there were not two 
 hundred murderers, and I can assure him that I passed with the commis- 
 sioners of the Legislative Assembly, under an arch of ten thousand swords. I 
 recognised more than one hundred and fifty federalists. There are no 
 crimes in revolutions. Marat, so vehemently accused, is persecuted solely 
 for revolutionary acts. To-day Marat, Danton, Robespierre, are accused. 
 To-morrow it will be Santerre, Chabot, Merlin," &c. 
 
 Excited by this audacious harangue, a federalist present at the sitting 
 did what no man had yet publicly dared to do. He declared that he was 
 at work with a great number of his comrades in the prisons, and that he 
 believed he was only putting to death conspirators and forgers of false 
 assignats, and saving Paris from massacre and conflagration. He added that 
 he thanked the society for the kindness which it had shown to them all, 
 that they should set out the next day for the army, and should carry with 
 them but one regret, that of leaving patriots in such great dangers. 
 
 This atrocious declaration terminated the sitting. Robespierre had not 
 made his appearance, neither did he appear during the whole Aveek, being 
 engaged in arranging his answer, and leaving his partisans to prepare the 
 public opinion. The commune of Paris persisted meanwhile in its conduct 
 
 has never ceased to call for a dictatorship in France, as a blessing, as the only govenimeni 
 that could save us from the anarchy tliat he preached, that could lead us to liberty and hap- 
 piness ! He soliciied this tyrannical power, for whom "? You would never beheve it; you 
 are not aware of the. full extent of the delirium of his vanity ; he solicited it for whom, yes^ 
 for whom, but Marat! If his folly were not ferocious, there wouUl be nothing so ridiculous 
 as that creature on whom Nature seems purposely to have set the seal of reprobation." 
 
 • *' Young Robespierre was, what might be called, an agreeable young man, animated by 
 no bad sentiments, and believing, or feigning to beUeve, that his brother was led on by a 
 parcel of wretches, every one of whom he would banish to Cayenne, if he were in his 
 |)lace." — Duchens cfAbranles. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 431 
 
 and ils system. It was alleged that it had taken not less than ten millions 
 from the cliest of Septeuil, treasurer of the civil list ; and at that very mo- 
 ment it was circulating a petition to the forty-four municipalities against the 
 plan for giving a guard to the Convention. Barbaroux immediately pro- 
 posed four formidable and judiciously conceived decrees : 
 
 By the first, the capital was to lose the right of being the seat of the na- 
 tional representation, when it could no longer find means to protect it from 
 insult or violence. 
 
 By the second, the federalists and the national gendarmes were, conjoindy 
 with the armed sections of Paris, to guard the national representation and 
 the public establishments. 
 
 By the third, the Convention was to constitute itself a court of juslice for 
 the purpose of trying the conspirators. 
 
 By the fourth and last, the Convention was to cashier the municipality 
 of Paris. 
 
 These four decrees were pcrfccdy adapted to circumstances, and suitable 
 to the real dangers of the moment, but it would have required all the power 
 that could only be given by the decrees themselves in order to pass them. 
 To create energetic means, energy is requisite ; and every moderate party 
 which strives to check a violent parly is in a vicious circle, wliich it can 
 never get out of. No doubt the majority, inclining to the Girondiiis, might 
 have been able to carry the decrees ; but it was its moderation tliat made it 
 incline to tliem, and this very moderation counselled it to wait, to temporize, 
 to trust to the future, and to avoid all measures that Avere prematurel) ener- 
 getir-,. Tlic Assembly even rejected a much less rigorous decree, tlio first 
 of those wliich the commission of nine had been charged to draw up. It 
 was proposed by Buzot, and related to the instigators of murder and confla- 
 gration. All direct instigation was to be punished with death, and nidirect 
 instigation with ten years' imprisonment. The Assemldy considered the 
 penalty for direct instigation too severe, and indirect instigation too vagi>oly 
 defined and too difficult to reach. To no purpose did Buzot insist that 
 revolutionary and consequently arbitrary measures were required against the 
 adversaries who were to be combated. He was not listened to, neither 
 could he be, when addressing z. majority which condemned revolutionary 
 measures in the violent party itself, and was therefore very unlikely to employ 
 them against it. The law was consequendy adjourned; and the commission 
 of nine appointed to devise means of maintaining good order, became, in a 
 mauTicr, useless. 
 
 The Assembly, however, manifested more energy, when the question of 
 checkinof the excesses of the commune came under discussion. It seemed 
 then to defend its authority with a sort of jealousy and energy. The gene- 
 ral council of die commune, summoned to the bar on occasion of tlie petition 
 against the plan of a departmental guard, came to justify itself. It was not 
 the same body, it alleged, as on the 10th of August. It had contained pre- 
 varicators. They had been jusdy denounced and were no longer among 
 its members. "Confound not," it added, "the innocent with the guilty. 
 Bestow on us the confidence which Ave need. We are desirous of restor- 
 ing the tranquillity necessary for the Convention, in order to the enactment 
 of^good \a\\ s. As for the presentation of this petition, it was the sections 
 that insisted upon it ; we are only dieir agents, but we wdl persuade them 
 to withdraw it." 
 
 This submission disarmed the Girondins themselves, and, at the request 
 of Gensonne, the honours of the sitting were granted to the general council 
 
432 HISTORY OF THE 
 
 This docility of the administrators might well gratify the pride of the As» 
 eembly, but it proved nothing as to the real disposition of Paris. The tumult 
 increased, as the 5th of November, the day fixed for hearing Robespierre^ 
 approached. On the preceding day there were outcries in a contrary spirit. 
 Bands went through the streets, some shouting : " To the guillotine, Robes- 
 pierre, Danton, Marat!" — others, "Death to Roland, Lasource, Guadet!" 
 Complaints were made on this subject at the Jacobins, but no notice was 
 taken, except of the cries against Robespierre, Danton, and Marat. These 
 cries were laid to the charse of dragoons and federalists, who at that time 
 were still devoted to the Convention. Robespierre the younger again 
 appeared in the tribune, deplored the dangers \vhich beset innocence, con- 
 demned a plan of conciliation proposed by a member of the society, saying 
 that tlie opposite party was decidedly counter-revolutionary, and tliat neither 
 peace nor truce ought to be made with it; that no. doubt innocence would 
 perish in the struggle, but it was requisite that it should be sacrificed, and 
 Maxiniilien Robespierre must be suffered to fall, because the ruin of one 
 individual would not be attended with that of liberty. All the Jacobins 
 applauded these fine sentiments, assuring the younger Robespierre that 
 nothing of the sort would happen, and that his brother should not perish. 
 
 Complaints of a contrary kind were preferred to the Assembly, and there 
 the shouts against Roland, Lasource, and Guadet, were denounced. Roland 
 complained of the inefficacy of his requisitions to the department and to the 
 commune, to obtain an armed force. Much discussion ensued, reproaches 
 were exchanged, and the day passed without the adoption of any measure. 
 At length, on the following day, November the 5th, Robespierre appeared 
 in the tribune. 
 
 The concourse was great, and the result of this solemn discussion was 
 awaited with impatience. Robespierre's speech was very long and care- 
 fully composed. His answers to Louvet's accusations were such as a man 
 never fails to make in such a case. "You accuse me," said he, "of aspir 
 ing to tyranny; but, in order to attain it, means are required; and where 
 are my ti-easures and my armies ? You allege that I have reared at the 
 Jacobins the edifice of my power. But what does this prove ? Only that 
 I have been heard with more attention, that I appealed perhaps more forci- 
 bly than you to the reason of that society, and that you are but striving 
 here to reveng? the wounds inflicted on your vanity. You pretend that this 
 celebrated society has degenerated ; but demand a decree of accusation 
 against it, I will then take care to justify it, and we shall see if you will 
 prove more successful or more persuasive than Leopold and Lafayette 
 You assert that I did not appear at the commune till two days after the lOth 
 of August, and that I then, of my own authority, installed myself at the 
 bureau. But, in the first place, I was not called to it sooner, and when I 
 did appear at the bureau, it was not to instal myself there, biii to have my 
 powers verified. You add that I insulted the Legislative Assembly, that I 
 threatened it with the tocsin. The assertion is false. Some one placed 
 near me accused m3 of sounding the tocsin. I replied to the speaker that 
 they were the ringers of the tocsin, who by injustice soured people's minds ; 
 and then onj of my colleagues, less reserved, added that it would be sounded. 
 Such is the simple fact on which my accuser has built this fable. In the 
 electoral assembly, I have spoken, but it was agreed upon that this libertj 
 might be taken. I made some observations, and several others availed ihera 
 flclves of the same privilege. I have neither accused nor recommended any 
 one. That man, whom you charge me with making use of, was nevej 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 
 
 433 
 
 either my friend, or recommended by me. Were I to judge him by those 
 who attack him, he would stand acquitted, but I decide not. I shall merely 
 fiay that he has ever been a stranger to me ; that once he came to my house, 
 .when I made some observations on his wrilinors, on their exacrireration, and 
 on the regret felt by the patriots at seeing him compromise our cause by the 
 violence of his opinions ; but he set me down for a politician having narrow 
 views, and published this the very next day. It is a calumny then to sup- 
 pose nie to be the instigator and the ally of this man." 
 
 Passing from these personal accusations to the general charges directed 
 against the commune, Robespierre repeated, with all his defenders, that the 
 2(1 of September was the sequel to the 10th of August ; that it is impossible, 
 si'ter the event, to mark the precise point where the billows of popular insur- 
 rection must have broken ; that the executions were undoubtedly illegal, but 
 that without illegal measures despotism could not be shaken off; that the 
 whole Revolution was liable to the same reproach ; for everything in it was 
 illegal, both the overthrow of the throne and the capture of tin; Bastille. 
 He then described the dangers of Paris, the indignation of the citizens, 
 their concourse around the prisons, and their irresistible fury, on thinking 
 that they should leave behind them conspirators who would butcher their 
 families. " It is affirmed that one innocent man has perished," exclaimed 
 the speaker with emphasis, *' one only, and that one a great deal too much, 
 most assuredly. Lament, citizens, this cruel mistake ! We have long 
 lamented it ; this was a good citizen ; he was one of our friends ! Lament 
 even the victims who ought to have been reserved for the vengeance of the 
 la\fs, but who fell beneath the sword of popular justice ! But let your 
 gi-ief have an end, like all human things. Let us reserve some tears for 
 more touching calamities. Weep for one hundred thousand pati-iots immo- 
 lated by tyranny ! Weep for our citizens expiring beneath their blazing 
 roofs, and the children of citizens slaughtered in their cradles or in the 
 arms of their mothers ! Weep humanity bowed down beneath the yoke of 
 tyrants ! . . . But cheer up, if, imposing silence on all base passions, you 
 are resolved to insure the happiness of your country, and to prepare that 
 
 of the world ! 
 
 *' I cannot help suspecting that sensibility which mourns almost exclu- 
 sively for the enemies of liberty. Cease to shake before my face the bloody 
 robe of the tyrant, or I shall believe that you intend to rivet Rome's fetters 
 
 upon her again !" 
 
 It was with this medley of subtle logic and revolutionary declamation, that 
 Robespierre contrived to captivate his auditory and to obtain unanimous ap- 
 plause. All that related to himself personally was just, and it was impnident 
 on the part of the Girondins to stigmatize as a plan of usurpation that which 
 was as yet but an ambition of influence, rendered hateful by an envious dis- 
 position. It was imprudent to point out in the acts of the commune the 
 proofs of a vast conspiracy, when they exhibited nothing but the agitation of 
 popular passions. The Girondins thus furnished the Assembly with an 
 occasion to charge them with wronging their adversaries. Flattered, as it 
 were to see the alleged leader of the conspirators forced to justify himself, 
 delighted to see all the crimes accounted for as the consequence of an insiir- 
 rectlon thenceforward impracticable, and to dream of a happier future, the 
 Convention deemed it more dignified, more prudent, to put an end to dll 
 Uiese personalities. The order of the day was therefore moved. Louvel 
 rose to oppose it, and demanded permission to reply. A great number of 
 members presented themselves, desirous of speaking for, on, or against, the 
 
 VOL. I. — 55 
 
^34 HISTORY OF THF 
 
 Drder of the day. Barbaroux, hopeless of gaining a heari ig, rushed to tlie 
 bar that he might at least address the Assembly as a petitioner. Lanjuinais 
 proposed that the important questions involved in Roland's report should be 
 taken into consideration. At length, Barrere*^" obtained permission to speak. 
 " Citizens," said he, " if there existed in the republic a man born with the 
 genius of Caesar or the boldness of Cromwell, a man possessing the dan- 
 gerous means together with the talents of Sylla : if there existed here any 
 legislator of great genius, of vast ambition, or of a profound character ; a 
 general, for instance, his brow wreathed with laurels, and returning among 
 you to dictate laws or to violate the rights of the people, I should move for 
 a decree of accusation against him. But that you should do this honour to 
 men of a day, to petty dabblers in commotion, to those whose civic crowns 
 are intwined with cypress, is what I am incapable of comprehending." 
 
 This singular mediator proposed to assign the following motive for the 
 order of the day: " Considering that the National Convention ought not to 
 occupy itself with any other interests than those of the republic." — " I 
 oppose your order of the day," cried Robespierre, if it contains a preamble 
 injurious to me." The Assembly adopted the pure and simple order of thf 
 day. 
 
 The partisans of Robespierre hastened to the Jacobins to celebrate this 
 victory, and he was himself received as a triumphant conqueror.! As soon 
 as he appeared, he was greeted with plaudits. A member desired that he 
 miglit be permitted to speak, in order that lie miglit relate the proceedings 
 of the day. Another declared tliat his modesty wovdd prevent his compli- 
 ance, and that he declined speaking. Robespierre, enjoying this enthusiasm 
 in silence, left to another the task of an adulatory harangue. He was called 
 Aristides. His natural and manly eloquence was lauded with an affectation 
 which proves how well known was his fondness for literary praise. The 
 Convention was reinstated in the esteem of the society, and it was asseited 
 that the triumph of truth had begun, and that there was now no occasion to 
 despair of the salvation of the republic. 
 
 Barrere was called to account for the manner in which he had expressed 
 himself respecting petty dabblers in commolion: and he laid bare his 
 character most completely by declaring that he alluded in those words not 
 to the ardent patriots accused with Robespierre, but to their adversaries. 
 
 Such was the result of that celebrated accusation. It was an absolute im- 
 
 * "Barrere is a sort of utulefinable creature — a species of coffee-house wit. He used to 
 go every day, after leaving the committee, to visit a female with whom Champcenetz lived. 
 He would remain with her till midnight, and would frequently say, ' To-morrow we shall get 
 rid of fifteen, twenty, or thirty of them.' When the woman expressed her horror of these 
 murders, he would reply, ' We must grease the wheels of the Revolution,' and then depart, 
 (aughing." — Monlgaillurd. E. 
 
 {■ "Robespierre, who afterwards played so terrible a part in jur Revolution, began from this 
 memorable day to figure among its foremost ranks. This man, whose talents were but of an 
 ordinary kind, and whose disposition was vain, owed to his inferiority his late appearance on 
 the stage, which in revolutions is always a great advantage. Robespierre had all the quali- 
 ties of a tyrant; a mind which was without grandeur, but which, nevertheless, was not 
 vulgar. He was a living proof that, in civil troubles, obstinate mediocrity is more powerful 
 than the irregularity of genius. It must also be allowed that Robespierre possessed the sup- 
 port of an immense fanatical sect, which derived its origin from the eighteenth century. It 
 took for its political symbol the absolute sovereignly of the ' Contrat Social' of J. J. Rousseau; 
 and in matters of l)elief the deism contained in the Savoyard Vicar's confession of faith; anil 
 succeeded for a brief space in realising them in the constitution of 1793, and in the worship 
 of the Supreme Being. There were, indeed, in the various epochs of the Revolution, more 
 egotism, and more fanaticism than is generally believed," — Migncl. E. 
 
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 435 
 
 prudence. The whole conduct of the Girondins is characterized by this 
 step. They felt a generous indignation ; they expressed it with talent, but 
 they mixed up with it so many personal animosities, so many false conjec- 
 tures, so many chimerical suppositions, as to famish those who loved to 
 deceive themselves with a motive for disbelieving them, tliose who dreaded 
 an act of energy with a motive for concluding that there was no immediate 
 danger, and, lastly, those who affected impartiality Avith a motive for refusing 
 to adopt their conclusions : and these classes comprehended the whole Plain. 
 Among them, however, the wise Petion did not participate in their exagge- 
 rations : he printed the speech which he had prepared, and in which all 
 circumstances were duly appreciated. Vergniaud, whose reason and dis- 
 dainful indolence raised him above the passions, was likewise exempt from 
 their inconsistencies, and he maintained a profound silence. At the moment 
 the only result for the Girondins \vas that they had rendered reconciliation 
 impossible ; that they had even expended on a useless combat their most 
 powerful and only means, words and indignation ; and that they had aug- 
 mented the hatred and the fury of their enemies without gaining for them- 
 Eclves a single additional resource.* 
 
 •"The Girondins flattered ihemsch'cs that a simple passing to the order of the day- 
 would extinguish Robespierre's influence as completely as exile or death ; and they actually 
 joined with the Jacobins in preventing the reply of Louvet — a fatal error, which France had 
 cause to lament in tears of blood! It was now evident that the Girondins were no match 
 for their terrible adversaries. The men of action on their side in vain strove to rouse thera 
 to the necessity of vigorous measures. Their constant reply was, that they would not be 
 >he first to commence the shedding of blood. Their whole vigour consisted in declamation 
 — their whole wisdom in abstract discussion. They were too honourable to believe in thi 
 wickedness of their opponents; too scrupulous to adopt the means requisite to crush ihem ' 
 — Alison. E. 
 
 END OF VOL. L 
 

 I