r^^^ CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY DC 148.T43"'l89r''">' """^ ^iiMilHllftllte,l.f'^«lut/o„ ,7 3 1924 024 310 579 Date Due ii\ 'iLJr'r -^5srT^ ^v.«— vJ'l^iieSSi. ^PW- 1 ",rfMrisi 5|iS*!Bi \1^MJ.\1 i VS \>3bA 1 it. s«^4 PRINTED IN U. 3. «. f**?' ''''■'• NO. 23233 H^ i ^-^ i -1 - THE HISTORY OF THE FEENOH EEYOLUTION i:i- m '■-ij wii i-- - Wl, N "■ Jn, i- 1 X -' r^^; •" i;' r^) Cornell University Library 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/cu31924024310579 THE HISTORY OF THE FREl^CH REVOLUTION 1789-1800 BY LOUIS ADOLPIIE TIIJEKS TRANSLATED, WITH NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS, FROM THE MOST AUTHENTIC SOURCES, BY FREDERICK SHOBERL NEW EDITION, WITH UPWARDS OF FORTY ILLUSTRATIONS ON STEEL ENGRAVED BY WILLIAM GREATBATCH IN FIVE VOLUMES VOL. I. LONDON RICHARD BENT LEY AND SON Publisfjers in (J^rliinarg to |^cr ilHajcstg tf)e ©uceit 1895 {All rights rescrvcdl PREFACE BY THE AUTHOR I PURPOSE writing the history of a memorable Pevolntion, which has profoundly agitated the minds of men, and which still continues to divide them. I disguise not from myself the difficulties of the undertaking ; for passions which were sup- posed to have been stifled under the sway of military despotism have recently revived. All at once men bowed down by asfe and toil have felt resentments which, according to appearance, were appeased, awaken within them, and they have communi- cated them to us, their sons and heirs. But if we have to uphold the same cause, we have not to defend their conduct, for we can separate liberty from those who have rendered it service or disservice ; whilst we possess the advantage of having observed those veterans, who, still full of their recol- lections, still agitated by their impressions, reveal to us the spirit and the character of parties, and teach us to com- prehend them.* Perhaps the nuunent when the actors are about to expire is the nrost proper for writing this history ; we can collect their evidence without participating in all their passions. Be this as it may, I have endeavoured to stifle within my own bosom every feeling of animosity : I alternately figured to myself that, born in a cottage, animated with a just ambi- tion, I was resolved to acquire 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 property. Thence- forward I could not harbour enmity against either party ; I pitied the combatants, and I indemnified myself by admiring- generous deeds wherever I found them. * U I The people never revolt from fickleness, or the mere desire of change. It is the impatience of suffering Avhich alone has this effect." — Sully's Memoirs. PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION SOME years have elapsed since M. Thiers' " History of the French Revolution " was first introduced to readers in an English translation. The value of such a work can only be tested by time and popularity. The subject, although of the deepest interest, had been so often touched upon by previous writers, that novelty, either in fact or inference, was scarcely to be expected. In France the book was received with enthu- siasm, and adopted without hesitation as the standard authority. This might have been looked fc)r, from the impulsive character of the people, the known abilities of the author, and his political eminence. It was felt at once that he was able to grapple with the question, and examine its minute details with searching fidelity. His mind was practical more than speculative. He was a man of business rather than a dream- ing philosopher ; an adroit, keen, clear-headed, worldly states- man, with no strong passions or prejudices to mislead his judgment, and entirely uninfiuenced by fanciful theories to obscure his meaning. His history is a narrative of facts, seldom interrupted by episodes or parenthetical reflections. He has no tendency to enter into long investigations of causes, which he leaves the reader to discover for himself. In his delineations of character he seizes obvious points and promi- nent features. In this he is directly contrasted with Mignet. who refines with metaphysical nicety, and halts to dissect a feeling when he should hasten on to relate an event. Mignet is subtle, and frequently obscure. Thiers is frank, and always intelligible. Hence the secret of his superior attraction ; and on this ground, independent of others, his work has established itself as a classic, and increases in estimation on repeated perusal. It may justly be pronounced the best that has been ■*= vii viii PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. written on a very momentous period : the safest, as well as the most entertaining ; and when we refer to the long list of eminent authors who have employed their pens in the description of this gigantic moral earthquake, it is no slight commendation to be placed at the head of the phalanx. We have said why we prefer Thiers to Mignet — although in literary composition their merits are equally balanced. In England the reputation of JM. Thiers' History has increased gradually. Received at first with caution, perhaps with distrust, it has made its way by intrinsic weight, and obtains with each suc- ceeding year a wider popularity. A new edition has therefore become necessary, which we now present in a more convenient form, and, as we trust, with some additiorral recommendations. It has been objected that Thiers is a partial historian, and writes with a natrrral bias in favour of his own corrntry. If so, a reasonable allowance mrrst be made for a fault inseparable from humanity. But this tendency, when it occurs, is com- pensated for irr this edition by a series of illustrative notes from the most important authorities on the subject, so tliat the reader is thereby enabled to balance conflictiirg opinioirs, and regulate his own judgment on a comparison of evidence. Lord Byron has said, "It has long been the fashion to ascribe everything to the French Eevolutiorr, and the French Revolrrtion to everything but the real cause. That cause is obvious. The government exacted more than the 23eople could bear, and the people neither could nor would bear any longer." There is truth in this short summary ; but the question is too complicated to be dismissed merely in a sentence. The storm had long been brewing, and many agencies were concerned in bringing it to a head. The catastrophe was foreseen and pre- dicted, not only by profound thinkers, but by casual observers. Many were the warning voices, but all were unheeded until the explosion took place. The successive carrses, immediate and secondary, have been amply discussed; but it is to be re- gretted that an autlror so well versed in the annals of France as M. Thiers has not entered more into detail in his intro- ductory dissertation. After a few brief paragraphs, he breaks at once into his subject, as if he took it for granted that all Ms readers were as well acquainted as himself with the origin PEJEFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. ix of that memorable event. The climax was gradual of approach, and long in preparation. What Dr. Johnson says in his tragedy of "Irene" of the fall of Constantinople, applies strongly to the destruction of the French monarchy : — " A thousand horrid prodigies foretold it ; A feeble government, eluded laws, A factious populace, luxurious nobles, And all the maladies of sinking states." As in more recent times the decay of authority is accom- panied by the outrages of anarchists and the tyi-anny of trades' unions. Foremost in the list, the deficiency of the public revenue, the preposterous salaries of the officers of the Crown, and the unbridled speculations of the Encyclopaedists — brilliant but dangerous sophists, who promulgated visionary doctrines, utterly subversive of religion, law, policy, or morality — were the most formidable pioneers of the Revolution. As soon as they were listened to, the end became certain. They exposed the wrongs and pointed out the privileges of all classes ; but while they did this, they at the same time advocated principles incompatible with the interests of civilized society. The executive energy of Cromwell, and the financial ability of Colbert, might even at a late hour have opposed an effec- tual barrier ; but Bonaparte rose to power too late and Mira- b'eau passed away before his career was completed. The lesson was intended to be taught ; and well will it be for future generations if they lay it to their hearts, and imbibe wisdom from the study. Foremost amongst those whose writings tended to inflame and pervert the public mind were Voltaire and Rousseau. The first of these had every possible requisite for such a task. Shrewd, calculating, and cunning as a fox ; a wit without heart, an innovator Avithout conscience, an expert handler of paradoxes, the light thin soil of whose mind could not nourish the tree of knowledge ; acquainted with society in all its grades, from the highest to the lowest ; a contemner, less from sound conviction than from the instincts of over- weening self-conceit, of all systems of religion, government, and morals — this ready unprincipled satirist was just the X PBEFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. man to precipitate the great crisis of the Revolution. All who read could understand him. There was no affected mysticism in his manner: he was uniformly 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 commencing an attack is by insinuation. He sneers away a moral system in a sentence, and disturbs faith in religion and humanity by a terse and sparkling allegory. That he effected some good in his generation is unquestion- able. He denounced the avarice and negligence of the higher orders of the priesthood ; lashed the insane rage for war, then so general on the continent ; exposed the vices and im- becility of the noblesse ; and did not spare even the throne itself. Had he stopped here, he would have deserved praise ; but his restless intellect spurned all decent restraints, per- versely confounding the distinctions between truth and false- hood, absurdity and common-sense. Cynical by nature, the crimes and utter callousness which he observed amongst 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 festered in its mortal con- sequences ; and 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 influential, was Voltaire's great rival, Rousseau. The object of this insidious sentimentalist was — in politics, to bring about republicanism ; in ethics, to subvert the entire framework of society, and introduce universal licence ; in religion, to do away with faith grounded on the convictions of reason, and to substitute in its stead the cant of instinct and sensi- bility. 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 profound ; and his studied indecency Avas received as tlie prompting of a healthy and impassioned temperament. We who live in more enlightened times, when the public PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. xi mind is able to detect the true from tlie false, and if crazed for a season by some pet crotchet, never fails soon to right itself, can scarcely imagine the effect which Voltaire and Rousseau, assisted by the Encyclopasdists, produced in their day. That a convulsion would have taken place, even without 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 wild specula- tions of the unworldly Girondins, the republican cant of the Dantonists, and the unblushing atheism of the worshippers of the Goddess of Reason. The radical defect of all Rousseau's writings was the substi- tution 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 U23 of inconsistencies. While he professed to inculcate a system of the purest ethics, he 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 ! That he was actuated throughout his literary career by no better feeling than a mere morbid craving for notoriety, is evident from one of his published conversations with Burke, wherein he observes, that finding that 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 w^ere the means which he employed for that purpose. Voltaire and Rousseau lived and wrote exclusively for effect. Yet it has been urged by those who, seduced by their talents, would fain make excuses for their sophistries, that both 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 unequivocally in the police-offices, people the vast pasturages of Australia, and form — says the quaint old Spanish proverb — the pavement of hell itself ! While these and other malign influences were at work. xii PREFACE TO THE ENGLISH EDITION. the grand struggle for independence took place in America. This event staitled France like a thunder-clap. Adieu now to all hope of escape from revolution ! The heather is on fire, and nothing can check the progress of the conflagration. Within the precincts of the palace, in the salons of fashion, and universally among the tiers-Mat^ nothing is talked of but the gallantry of the transatlantic patriots. Washington is the hero — Franklin the 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 des- perate resolution of supplying the revolted colonies with funds and troops. It was the misfortune of this Prince, who possessed many excellent private and public quali- ties, to do everything 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, will go wavering cameleon-like, changing colour and purjiose with the colour of his environment — good for no kingly use." This is well observed of Louis. He was as " infirm of purpose " as Macbeth, swayed now by the counsels of the Queen, now by those of the Assembly, and giving a tenacious adhesion to neither. In assisting the American insurgents he took the most suicidal step that it was possible for monarch, situated as he was, to take ; for when his troops returned home — and they constituted the flower of the young noblesse and the army — they brought back with them opinions and feelings until then proscribed in France ; talked loudly of the duty of resistance to de- spotic authority ; and thus communicated an irreparable shock to the tottering throne of Louis. The final blow, however, was given by the collapse of the national finances, the annual deficit of which, 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 revolution. PREFACE TO THE E NO LIS If EDITION. xiii And now the work appeared to be complete. The mon- archy was abolished, the aristocracy annihilated ; religious and moral responsibility was denounced as an empty chimera, and the new system universally proclaimed. But the ele- ments of which it was compounded were discordant, and already, like the armed men produced by the dragon's teeth of Cadmus, they had begun to war on each other. There was hope 3^et if the disciples of liberty and equality, who refused to fraternize, had been left to themselves. Nothing could give them strength and permanence but unity ; and unity could only come by a pressure from without. In evil hour that pressure was resorted to. The invasion of France by the Duke of Brunswick, and subsequently by the allied armies of Austria and England, under Prince Cobourg, with the avowed objects of conquest and parti- tion, settled the question definitively, and combined all parties in one blended feeling of national patriotism. From that moment the restoration of the monarchy became im- possible, and the republic was firmly consolidated. A struggle of twenty years was the consequence of this fatal mistake 1 LOUIS ADOLPHE THIERS Born at Marseilles, April 15, 1797, Educated at the Lycee at Marseilles, .4. VOCA T, Started the National Newspafer, January 1830, CONSEILLER d'EtAT, Minister of the Interior, Minister op Commerce and Public Works, Minister of Foreign Affairs, President of the Council, President of the French Kerublic, 1871-1873, Died at Saint Germain, September 3, 1877. ILLUSTEATIONS VOLUME I. Attack on the Bastille Portrait of the Due d'Orleans (Egalite) Portrait of Mirabeau Portrait of Lafayette Orgies of the Gardes-du-Corps . Portrait of Marie Antoinette Return op the Royal Family from Varennes Portrait of Marat The Mob at the Tliileries . Attack on the Tuileries to face Title \o 26 62 90 96 162 :io 248 318 o H o I-l-l > 1— ( H <^ w w r% >n ^< 2. r- S O O ?: H II - - •(H O >^> 1-e O r^O) bD S 0) >> W Pi o rt g " § ^ S 3 M o Hi o3 ft irl^oti W -< Z cS [3 M 3 - O t^ s :-i 3 o^°3 o r^ <1 2 "^ " CO ,d-|'^ -a o [^ o ^ lyj t< O .rt ij~, II 'S t^ o m 00 -< ^0 ->- fcH CO a ^ 55 1-1 !> a " ? H o- " p <^ a S ™ f i w S c4 Jr; o .2 ^^ E^ o 11^ -^ I CI -1- ( CO w r < H CO J P> ■ '-co g ail ^BSoo-5 o a -•«-' (-4 P -^^ „ *=» .^ -W' < "IMS pd S rt ^ . . S 6H O O j^ H ^ K 2 -< r~ Hl^ H -' t- S - H H t^ ® rt "^ M K S &S |C! « K 2 a q U" 5^5o . ^ - to 4> o O CHEONOLOGY OF THE FEENCH EEVOLUTION 1789. May 5. Opening of the States-general at Versailles — The tiers-6tat, 661 deputies; nobles, 2S5 ; clergy, 308; total, 1254. 6. Division between the different orders respecting the mode of veri- 1 ' fying their powers. 10. The electors of Paris declare themselves in permanent session. 23. Notwithstanding the remonstrances of the tiers-dtat, the different orders meet separately. The clergy and nobility communicate to the ticrs-ctat the renunciation of their privileges, and submit to pay their proportion of the public burdens. June 17. The deputies of the tiers-itat, already joined by some of the clergy, declare their 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 pro- visionally, only till the day of its first separation, from whatever cause that separation may proceed. 20. The oath of the tennis-court. 23. Royal 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. July 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 di-agoons charges the populace in the Tuileries. Camilla 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 militia of Paris. The barriers attacked and burnt. 14. Storming of the Bastille. Massacre of the governor de Launay and Flesselles, ^^re'roi 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. Tho troops collected round Paris dismissed. Approval of the institu- tions of the national guard. The electors nominate Bailly mayor of Paris, and Lafayette general-in-chief of the national guard. xvii ^ xviii CHRONOLOGY OF Julyi6. Recall of Necker— Comte d'Artois and the Prince de Conde emi- grate. 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 people ; the people have reconquered their King." The assembled multitude applauded this address; the King assumed the red and blue cockade. His presence quiets the tumult. 22. Fresh disturbances on account of 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. Aug. I. The cannon of Chantilly and of the He-Adam taken possession of and brought to Paris. 4. The National Assembly decrees that the constitution shall be pre- ceded by the declaration 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. 23. Decree proclaiming liberty of opinions, religious as well as political. 31. Suppression and dissolution of 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 chamber. Oct. I. 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. 14. The Due d'Orleans quits Paris for a time and goes to England, 19. The first sitting of the National Assembly at the archbishop's palace. 21. Decree conferring upon the tribunal of the Chatelet the cogniz- ance of the crime of high treason against the nation. Martial law introduced. Nov. z. Ecclesiastical property declared national property. The Abbe Maury, being threatened with death (>. la lantcrne, escapes by saying to those who have come to attack him, "Well, and shall you see any the 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 transfers 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. THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. xix 1790. Jan. 15. Di%'ision 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 xolicn oppres- sion renders a revolution necessary, insurrection is the most sacred of duties. Mar. 16. Abolition of "Icttres de cachet." 17. Appropriation of ecclesiastical property to the repayment of the assignats. 28. Suppression of the salt-tax. April I. Publication of the " Eed Book." The secret expenses of the Court had annually been at the lowest, in 17S7, 82,000,000 livres, at the highest, in 17S3, 145,000,000 livres. 29. Free trade in corn. 30. Institution of the jur3^ May 10. Massacre of the patriots at Montauban. 12. Institution, by Lafayette and Bailly, of the Society of 1789 (after- wards 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 in Martinique. 9, 10. The civil list fixed at 25,000,000 li\Tes. 19. Abolition of nobility. July 10. Decree restoring to the heirs of dissenters expelled by the Edict of Nantes their confiscated property not yet sold. 14. First National Federation. Aug. 6. Abolition of the droits cVaubaine (seizing the property of aliens). 16. Justices of the peace instituted. 31. Kevolt of the Swiss soldiers of 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 of France. 27. Civil constitution of the clergy. Institution of the Tribunal of Cassation. Dec. 30. Institution of patents for inventions. XX CHRONOLOGY OF 179I. Jan. 2S. The French army is increased to the war establishment. Feb. 12. Abolition of the monopoly for the cultivation of tobacco, 19. Monsieur (afterwards Louis XVII I.) gratifies the populace who sur- round his palace by assuring them that he will never emigrate. 28. The leaders of the populace proceed to Vincennes and attempt to massacre the prisoners. The day of the Daggers. The nobles with concealed arms assemble at the Tuileries. 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 op Mirabeau. 23. Louis apprizes the Foreign Courts that he has taken the oath to observe t\ie future constitution. 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. June z. Louis XVI., being intimidated, gives bis consent to many decrees from which he 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. I'LIGHT TO AND RETURN PROM Varennes. 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 deliverance of Louis XVI. 7. Louis XVI. disavows the armaments equipping by the emigrants. 11. Petition for the King's dethronement. The remains of Voltaire 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 Pilnitz intended to consolidate the coalition. Sept. 3-13. Completion and presentation of the constitution to the King. 14. Louis XVI. accepts the constitution and swears to maintain it. 29. Decree relative 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. I. First Sitting op 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. THE FRENCH BEVOLUTION. xxi Oct. 14. The King- issues a proclamation to the emigrants eshortiDg 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 at war announces that 1900 officers have left their regiments and emigrated. 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 procitreur- syndic of the commune. 14. The King announces to the Assembly that he wall 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 emigrants collected in his States. 31. The Assembly suppresses the ceremony usual on New Year's Day. 1792. Jan. I. The King's brothers, as emigrants, are decreed under accusation. 23, 24. First pillage of the grocers of Paris. Feb. 7. Treaty between Austria and Prussia to quell the disturbances in France. 9. The property of emigrants sequestrated. Mar. I. Death of Leopold II. 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. 28. Decree admitting men of colour and free negroes to the exercise of political rights. 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 his soldiers. xxii CHRONOLOGY OF May 3. Decrees of accusation passed against Koyou, author of L'Ami du Hoi, and Marat, author of VAmi du Peuplc. 29, The King's paid guard disbanded. The National Assembly consti- tutes itself in permanent session. June S. 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. 9. All the ministers of Louis XVI. resign. II. Decree declaring the country in danger. 14. Third Federation. 30. Arrival of the Marseillais in Paris. Aug. 10. The Tuileries attacked and stormed. II. Suspension of the Royal Authority. An executive council formed, 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 iVssembly, after passing, between the ist of October 1791 and this date, 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 administrative, municipal, and judicial bodies, as sus- pected of being gangrened ivith royallsm. 23. Entry of the French into Chambery. Conquest of Savoy. 28. Nice taken. 29. Louis XVI. separated from his family and removed to the great tower of the Temple. Oct. 8. The siege of Lille raised, after an heroic defence by its inhabi- tants. 9. Law ordaining the immediate death of every emigrant taken in arms. 10. The titles of citoyen and citoyennc adopted instead of monncur and madame, 15. Suppression o the order of St. Louis. 22. Entire evacuation of the Frencli territory by the allies. THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. xxiii Oct. 23. Law banishing: the emigTants in mass and for ever, and decreeing the penalty of death against all, without distinction of age or sex, who shall return to France. Confiscation of their property. Nov. 6. Victory of Jeuaappes. 7. Decree for putting Louis XVI. upon his trial. 19. The Convention, by a decree, promises aid and succour to all those 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 to restore royalty in France. II. First examination of Louis XVI. 16. Decree banishing the Bourbons, with the exception of the prisoners in the Temple and Philip Egalitd (the Due d'Orleans), respecting whom the Convention reserves to itself the right of deciding hereafter. Philip Egalite continues to sit in the Convention. 25. Louis XVI. writes his will. 26. Defence of Louis XVI. delivered by Des^ze. 27. Commencement of the debates in the National Convention. 31. England refuses to recognize the minister of the French republic. 1793- Jan. 13. Basseville murdered at Eome. 14. End of the debates in the Convention relative to Louis XVI. 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 interview 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 Louis XVII. King. 31. Incorporation of the county of Nice with France. B'eb. I. 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. Mar. 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 coa- lition 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 of surveillance established in Paris. U-15. Insurrection in La Vendee. Cholet taken by the insurgents. xxiv CHRONOLOGY OF Mar. 1 8. 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. April I. Defection of Dumouriez. 6. The committee of public welfare instituted b}" a law. 9. Apprehension of the Due d'Orleans (Egalite), and imprisonment at Marseilles of all the members of the family of the Bourbons not confined in the Temple. Representatives of the people sent to the republican armies. 13. Marat decreed under accusation by the Convention. 17. 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 Tiiileries. iS. The Girondins obtain the institution of the commission of the twelve to watch the motions of agitators. 20. Forced loan of 1000 millions imposed upon the rich. 26. Insurrection in Corsica. 29. Insurrection in Lyons against the Jacobins, •^ ' ^ ■ I Revolution of May 31. Downfall of the Girondins. June I, 2. ] 5. Federalist insurrection at Marseilles and Caen. 8. Blockade of the ports of France by England. 9. Protest of 73 deputies against the acts of the Convention on the 31st of May and the 2nd of June. 10. Saumur taken by the Vendeans. A decree that absolute necessaries 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 Chaelotte 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. I. 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 com- munes of the 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. Sept. 5. Decree enacting that a revolutionar}^ army shall travel over the departments with artillery and a guillotine. 7, 8. Victory gained over the English at Hondschoote, THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. xxv Sept.ii. Establishment of the maximum for corn and flour. 15. Investment and siege of Toulon. 17. Law of the suspected. Oct. 10. Lyons taken by the army of the Convention. The government declared revolutionary till a peace. 15, 16. Victory of Wattignies. The blockade of Maubeuge raised. 16. Maiiie Antoinette condemned and executed. 17-19. Defeat of the Vendeans at Chollet. Passage of the Loire. 31. The Girondins executed. Nov. 6. The Due d'Orleans (Philip Egalite) executed. 10. The Catholic worship superseded by that of Keason. Revolutionary massacres at Lyons. 11. Bailly executed. 16. Lotteries suppressed. Dec. 4. Organization of the revolutionary government. 12. 13. 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. I. Decree enacting that every condemned general shall be executed at the head of his army. 4. Noirmoutiers taken. D'Elb^e executed. 16. Marseilles declared rebellious and to have lost its name. 21. Decree enacting that the anniversary of the execution of Louis XVL shall be celebrated as a national festival. Drownings {noyadcs) 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. Mar. 5. Danton, Camille-Desmoulins, &c., executed. 22, Decree proclaiming justice and integrity the order of the day. April 1. The executive council suppressed and succeeded by twelve com- missions composed of members of the Convention, and subordinate to the committee of public welfare. 4. DecreeTenacting that accused persons brought before the revolu- tionary tribunal loho resist the national justice shall not be allowed to plead, and sentenced forthwith. 5. Decree that every member of the Convention shall give an account of his conduct, moral and political, and of his circumstances. 14, Decree that the remains of J. J. Rousseau shall be removed to the Pantheon, xxvi CHRONOLOGY OF April i6. Decree that all those who live without doing anything, and complain of the Revolution, shall be transported to Gniana. May 7. The Convention acknowledges the existence of the Supreme Being. 10. Madame Elizabeth, Sister of Louis XVI., Executed. iS. Victory of Turcoing. 22. Execution of young women at Verdun. 26. Decree that no quarter be given to the English and Hanoverians. Collioure, St. Elme, and Port-Vendres retaken. June I. Establishment of the School of Mars 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 that corn and forage of this year's growth be put in requisi- tion. Victory of Fleurus. 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 (Sth of Thermidor). Robespierre at the Jacobin club. 27. 28 (9th and loth of Thermidor). Downfall op Robespierre. 29. Execution of eighty-three members of the general council of the commune outlawed on the 27th. Aug. I. 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 Grenelle, by which fifteen hun- dred 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. Barrere, Billaud-Varennes, and Collot-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 Aldenhoven. 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 their collective name. 20. The Normal School instituted. 23. The School of Mars suppressed. THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. xxvii Nov. I, 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, Dugommier and La Union, are slain. Dec. 2. Amnesty offered to the Vendeans and Chouans who shall lay down their arms within n month. 8. The deputies proscribed on the 31st of May 1793, readmitted into the Convention. 9. Decree that in future the secreci/ of letters shall not he violated in the interior. 16, 17. Carrier condemned and executed. 24. The laws of the maxinvum repealed. 30. The decree enacting that no quarter shall be given to the English and Hanoverians repealed. 1795- Jan. 19. Declaration of Russia that "there is no longer either a kingdom or republic of Poland." 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 re- public. 9. Treaty of peace between France and Tuscany. 15. First pacification of La Vendee, called the pacification of La Jaunaie. Mar. 2. The late members 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 u, pound and a half. 21. Institution of the Central School of Public Works (afterwards the Polytechnic School). Law against seditious assemblies. April I (i2th Germinal). Transportation of the late members of the com- mittee of public welfare. 5. Treaty of peace between the French republic and the King of Prussia. 7. Establishment of the uniformity of weights, measures, and coins, uyjon the decimal system. 4. Massacres in the prisons of Lyons. xxviii CHRONOLOGY OF May 7. Execution of Fouquier-Tinville and fifteen jurors of the revolutionary tribunal. 16. Alliance between the French and the Batavian republics. 17-19. Jacobin insurrection at Toulon. 20. Disturbances of the ist of Prairial. 22. Insurrection of the Faubourg St. Antoine. 24. Disarming of the Faubourg St. Antoine and the sections of Paris. 30. The public exercise of the Catholic religion authorized. 31. The extraordinary revolutionary criminal tribunal suppressed. June 1-5. Insurrection at Tonlon quelled. 2. Funeral honours paid to Feraud, the deputy, murdered on the ist 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 Legis- lative Assemblies shall 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. I. Belgium and all the conquered countries on the left bank of the Rhine incorporated with the republic. 2. Landing of Comte 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. I. Formation of the Dieectory. Lardveill^re-Lepaux Ic Tourneur, Rewbel, Barras, 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. Dec. 26. The daughter of Louis XVI. exchanged for — (i) The representa- tives and General Beurnonville, delivered up to the Austrians by Duraouriez ; (2) Maret and Semonville, diplomatic envoys, seized by the Austrians in 1793 ; (3) Drouet, the ex-conventionalist, made prisoner in 1792. THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. xxix 1796. Jan. I. Institution of the ministry of the police. Feb. 2. The twelve municipalities of Paris installed. 24. Stofliet, again in arms in La Vendue, taken and shot. Mar. 29. Charette shot at Nantes. April 2-9. Insurrection in Berry, which is quelled immediately. II, 12. Battle of Montcnotte. 13, 14. Battle of Millessimo. 22. Battle of Mondovi. May 10. Battle at 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. Moreau crosses the Rhine at Kehl. 29. The castle of Milan taken. July 9. Battle of Ettlingen gained by Moreau. Aug. 5. Victory of Castiglione. 15. Definitive pacification of La Vendee. 18. Offensive and defensive alliance between France and Spain. Sept. 5. The French enter Trent. 8. Battle of Bassano. 15. Battle of St. George. Wurmser blockaded in Mantua. Oct. 2. Battle of Biberach gained by Moreau. 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. Eupture of the conferences opened at Paris with Lord Malmes- bury. 24-27. Expedition to Ireland ; productive of no result. 1797. Jan. 9. Capitulation of Kehl, after the trenches had been opened forty-eight hours. 14, 15. Battle of Rivoli. 16. Battle of La Favorita. Capitulation of Provera. Feb. 2. Mantua taken. 5. Surrender of the tete de -pont of Huninguen. 19. Treaty of peace of Tolentino between the French republic and the Pope. XXX CHRONOLOGY OF Mar. 1 6. Passage of the Tagliamento. April 15. Preliminaries of peace between France and Austria signed at Leoben. iS. Battle of Neuwied gained by Hoche. 20, 21. Passage of the Rhine at Diersheim, by Moreau. May 16. The French enter Venice. Overthrow of the old Venetian govern- ment. 31, Revolution at Genoa. Creation of the Ligurian republic. June2S. 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 proceeding of the iSth 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 only is consolidated. Oct. 17. Treaty of peace signed at Campo Formic between France and Austria. Dec. 9. Opening of the congress of Rastadt. 10. Solemn reception of General Bonaparte by the Directory. 18. Riot at Rome. Murder of General Duphot — The French legation leaves the Papal territories. 1798. Jan. I. Law concerning the constitutional organization of the colonies. 5. Forced loan of eighty millions to defray the espense of the prepara- tions for an invasion of England. 27. Invasion of Switzerland. Feb. 10. Abolition of the Papal government. The Roman republic pro- claimed. Mar. I. 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 Ostend : 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. I, 2. Sea-fight of Abonkir. 21. Creation of the Institute of Egypt. THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. xxxi Aug-. 22. Landing in Ireland of 1 150 French under the command of Humbert, to join the Irish rebels. Sept. 5. Establishment of the conscription. 5. Humbert, attacked by the English army, is forced to surrender. 1 2, 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 Hel- vetic republics. 8-10. Occupation of Turin by General Joubert. The King of Sardinia cedes Piedmont to France. 15. Reoccupation of Rome by Championnet. 18. Treaty of alliance between England and Russia against France. 1799. Jan. 23. Naples taken by Championnet. Mar. 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. 27. 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 Legislative Body. 17-19. Defeat of the French at the 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 VI., 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. xxxii CHRONOLOGY OF FRENCH REVOLUTION Oct. 1 6. Arrival of Bonaparte in Paris. 1 8. Capitulation of Anglo-Kussians at Alkmaer. Nov. 9, 10. Eevolution of the iSth Brumaire— Bonaparte proclaimed pro- visional Consul. Dec. 1 6. Law organizing the Polytechnic School. 26. Constitution of the year VIII.— BoNArARTE nominated First Consul, Cambace'res and Lebrun associated with him as Second and Third Consuls. THE HISTORY OF THE FRENCH EEYOLUTION. EVERYBODY is acquainted with the revolutions of the French monarchy. It is well known that the Greeks, and afterwards the Romans, introduced their arms and their civili- zation among the half savage Ganls; that subsequently the Barbarians established their military hierarchy among them ; that this hierarchy, transferred from persons to lands, struck root, as it were, and grew up into the feudal system. Autho- rity was divided between the feudal chief called king, and the secondary chiefs called vassals, who in their turn were kings over their own dependents. In our times, when the necessity for preferring mutual accusations has caused search to be made for reciprocal faults, abundant pains have been taken to teach us that the supreme authority was at first disputed by the vassals, which is always done by those who are nearest to it ; that this authority was afterwards divided among them, which constituted feudal anarchy ; and that at length it reverted to the throne, where it concentrated itself into despotism under Louis XL, Richelieu, and Louis XIV. The French population had progressively enfranchised itself by industry, the primary source of wealth and liberty. Though originally agricultural, it soon devoted its attention to com- merce and manufactures, and acquired an importance that affected the entire nation. Litroduced 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 parliaments, booted and whip in hand. Thenceforth were seen at the head of the State a King clothed with a power ill defined in theory, ^O VOL. J. I * 2 HISTORY OF 17 1 5 but absolute in practice ; grandees who had rehnquished their feudal dignity for the favour of the monarch, and who disputed by intrigue what was granted to them out of tlie substance of the people ; beneath them an immense population, having no other relation to the Court and the aristocracy than habitual submission and the payment of taxes. Between the Court and the people were parliaments invested with the power of ad- ministering justice, and registering the royal decrees. Authority 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 King was weak, but in entire submission when the 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 Regent afforded the parliaments occa- sion to revenge themselves for their long nullity. The will of the monarch, so profoundly respected in his lifetime, was violated after his death, and his last testament was cancelled. Authority was then thrown into litigation, and a long struggle commenced between the parliaments, the clergy, and the Court, in sight of a nation worn out with long wars, and exhausted by suppl}dng 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 appl}^ its intelli- gence to its own benefit and the examination of its interests. The human mind is incessantly passing from one object to another. From the theatre and the pnlpit, French genius turned to the moral and political sciences : all then became changed. Figure to yourself, during a wliole century, the usurpers of all the national rights quarrelling about a worn-out authority ; the parliaments i^ersecuting the clergy, the clergy persecuting the parliaments ; the latter disputing the authority of the Court ; the Court, careless and calm amid this struggle, squandering the substance of the peo-jile in the most profligate debauchery ; the nation, enriched and roused, watching these disputes, arming itself with the allegations of one party against the other, deprived of all political action, dogmatizing boldly and ignorantly because it was confined to theories ; aspiring. 1774 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 3 above all, to recover its rank in Europe, and offering in vain its treasure and its blood to regain a place which it had lost through the weakness of its rulers. Such was the eie'hteenth century.* The scandal had been carried to its height when Louis XVI., an equitable prince, moderate in his propensities, carelessly educated, but naturally of a good disposition, ascended the throne at a very early ao-e. He called to his side an old courtier, and consigned to him the care of his kingdom, and divided his confidence between Maurepas and the Queen, an Austrian princess, young, lively, and amiable, f who possessed a complete ascendency over him. Maurepas and the Queen were not good friends. The King, sometimes gi\dng way to his minister, at others to his consort, began at an early period the long career of his vacillations. Aware of the state of his kingdom, he believed the reports of the philoso^^hers on that subject ; but brought up in the most Christian sentiments, he felt the utmost aversion for tliem. The public voice, which was loudly expressed, called for Turgot, one of the class of economists, an honest, virtuous man, endowed with firmness of character, a slow genius, but obstinate and profound. Con- vinced of his probity, delighted witli his plans of reform, Louis XVI. frecpiently 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 interested in maintaining all kinds of abuses, which the austere minister proposed to suppress. Louis XVI. dismissed him Avith regret. During his whole life, which was only a long martyrdom, he had the mortification to discern what was right, to wish it sincerely, but to lack the energy- requisite for carr^dng it into execution.^ The King*, placed between the Court, the parliaments, and * "Since tlie reign of the Roman emperors profligacy had never been con- ducted in so open and undisguised a manner as under Louis XY. and the Regent Orleans. The reign of Louis XV. is the most deplorable in French history. If we seek for the cliaracters who governed the age, Ave must search the ante- chambers of the Due de Choiseul, or the boudoirs of JMadame Pompadour or Du Barri. The whole frame of society seemed to be discomposed. Statesmen were ambitious to figure as men of letters ; men of letters as statesmen ; the great seigneurs as bankers ; the farmers-general as great seigneurs. The fashions were as ridiculous as the arts were misplaced." — Alisons French Revolution. t " It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France at Versailles, 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 cheering the elevated sphere she just began to move in, glittering like the morning star, full of life, splendour, and joy." — Burke's Reflections. X "Turgot, of whom Malesherbes said, 'He has tiie head of Bacon and the heart of L'Hopital,' aimed at extensive reforms, and laboured to effect that which the Revolution ultimately completed, the suppression of every species of 4 HISTORY OF 17 7 7 the people, exposed to intrignes 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 department Necker, a native of Geneva, who had amassed wealth as a banker, a partisan and discij^le of Colbert, as Turgot was of Sully ; an economical and upright financier, but a vain man, fond of setting himself up for arbitrator in everything — philosophy, religion, liberty ; and misled 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.* Keeker re-established order in the finances, and found means to defray the heavy expenses of the American war. With a mind more comprehensive but less flexible than that of Turgot, 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 the embarrassments of the exchequer, and he had recourse to refoim. He found the higher orders not less adverse to him than they had been to Turgot ; the parliaments, apprized of his plans, combined against him and obliged him to retire. The conviction of the existence of abuses was universal ; everybody admitted it ; the King knew and was deeply grieved at it. The courtiers, who derived advantage from these abuses, would have been glad to see an end put to the embarrassments of the exchequer, but without its costing them a single sacri- fice. They descanted at Court on the state of affairs, and there retailed philosophical maxims ; they deplored, whilst 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 youug Frenchmen who returned from the New World. f The parliaments also talked of the interests of the people, loudly insisted on the sufferings of the ^ioor, servitude and exclusive privilege. But he liad excited the jealousy of the cour- tiers by his reforms, of the parliaments by the abolition of the corvccs, and of Maure}ias by his ascendency over the monarch." — Mignct. * .See Ap[iendix A. t " The American war was the great change wliich blew into a flame the embers of innovation. Such was the universal enthusiasm which seized upon France at its commencement, that nobles of the highest rank, princes, dukes, and marquises, solicited with im[)atient zeal commissions in the regiments destined to aid the insurgents. The passion for republican institutions increased with the successes of the American war, and at length rose to such a height as to infect even the courtiers of the palace. The philosophers of France used every method of flattery to bring over the young nobles to their side ; and the profes- sion of liberal opinions became as indispensable a passport to the saloons of fashion as to the favour of the people." — Alison's French Revolution, AUG. 1787 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 5 and yet opposed the equalization of the taxes, as well as the abolition of the remains of feudal barbarism. All talked of the public weal, few desired it ; and the people, not yet know- ing who were its true friends, applauded all those who resisted power, its most ob\dous 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 have 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 supplv the profusion of the Ccun^t. 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 e\'ery evil injudiciously neglected. The Court liesitated, 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 witli the public, because he had 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 apathy. It was his opinion that one ought not to be alarmed beforehand, or to discover an evil till the day before that on which 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 everybody else some happier moments, and dispelled tlie most gloomy presages by a gleam of prosperit}^ and blind confidence.* That future which had been counted upon now approached ; it became necessary at leng'th to adopt decisive measures. It was impossible to burden the people with fresh imposts, and yet the coffers were empty. There was but one remedy which could be applied — that Avas, to reduce the expenses by the sup- pression of grants ; and if this ex]:>edient should not suffice, to extend the taxes to a greater number of contributors, that is, to the nobility and clerg}^ These plans, attempted successively by Turgot and Necker, and resumed by Calonne, appeared to the latter not at all likely to succeed unless the consent of the 231'ivileged classes themselves could be obtained. Calonne therefore ]3roposed 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 * "To all the requests of the Queen, M. Calonne would answer, 'If what your Majesty asks is possible, the thing is done ; if it is impossible, it shall be done.' " — Weber, Mevwirs. 6 HISTOBT OF aug. 1787 con\dction. The Assembly was composed of distinguished members of the nobility, clergy, and magistracy, of a great number of masters of requests, and some magistrates 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. Public opinion bore him a grudge for occu^^ying the place of Turgot and Necker. Delighted in particular that the minister was obliged to render an account, it supported the resistance of the Notables. Very warm discussions ensued. Calonne did wrong in throw- ing upon his predecessors, and partly on Necker, tlie existing state of tlie exchequer. Necker replied, was exiled, and the opposition became the more obstinate. Calonne met it with presence of mind and composure. He caused M. de Miromel, keeper of the seals, who was conspiring with the parliaments, to be dismissed. But liis triumph lasted only two days. The King, wlio was attached to him, had, in engagiiig to support him, promised more than he could perform. He was shaken by the representations of the Notables, who promised to sanc- tion the plans of Calonne, but on condition that a minister more moral and more deserving of confidence should be ap- pointed to carry them into execution. The Queen, at the sug- gestion of the Abbe de Vermont, pro]30sed 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 contributed most to the ruin of Calonne, in hopes of suc- ceeding him. The Archbishop of Toulouse, a man of weak mind and obsti- nate 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 influ- ence of women, whom he strove to please, and in which he succeeded. He caused his administration of Languedoc to be everywhere extolled. If, on attaining the ])ost 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 superseding Calonne. At first he was not prime minister, but he soon became so. Seconded b}^ M. de Lamoignon, keeper of the seals, an inveterate enemy to the parliaments. Ju^ commenced his career with considerable advantages. The Notables, bound by the promises whicli they had made, readily consented to all that they had at first refused : land-tax, stamp-duty, suppres- sion of the gratuitous services of vassals {corv4cs), provincial AUG. 1787 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 7 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 the public suffrage, nevertheless regretted an honour gained at the cost of the gi'eatest sacrifices. Had M. de Brienne known how to profit by the advantages of his ^Dosition ; had he actively proceeded with the execution of the measures assented to by the Notables ; had he submitted 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, pressed on all sides, would have consented to everj^hing, and this concession, though partial and forced, would probably have retarded for a long time the struggle which afterwards took place. Nothing of the kind, however, was done. By imprudent delays occasion was furnished for relapses ; the edicts were submitted only one after another ; the parliament had time to discuss, to gain courage, and to recover from the sort of sur- prise by which the Notables had been taken. It registered, after long discussions, the edict enacting the second abolition of the corv6es, and another permitting the free exportation 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 selfish. It hesitated, when it was spared this embarrassment by the simultaneous presentation of the edict on the stamp-duty and the land-tax, and especially by opening the deliberations with the former. The parliament had thus an opportunity of re- fusing the first without entering into explanations respecting the second ; and in attacking the stamp-duty, which affected the majority of the payers of taxes, it seemed to defend the interest of the public. At a sitting which was attended by the peers, it denounced the abuses, the profligacy, and the pro- digality of the Court, and demanded statements of expenditure. A councillor, punning upon the etats (statements), exclaimed, " Ce ne sont 'pas des etats, mais des ^tats-g&iUraux qu'il nous fantr " It is not statements, but States-general that we want." This unexpected demand struck ever}^ one with astonishment. Hitherto people had resisted because they suffered ; 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 infliuence over the government, 8 HISTORY OF aug. 1787 they had been so habituated to confine themselves to complaints, that tliey complained without conceiving the idea of acting, or of bringing about a revolution. The utterance of a single word presented an unex^^ected direction to the public mind : it was repeated 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 (Jonstituent Assembly — d'Espremenil showed himself on this occasion one of the most violent ^Darliamentary declaimers. But the opposition was secretly conducted by Duport, a young man of extraordinary abilities, and of a firm and persevering character, the only one perhaps who amid these disturbances had a s^^ecific object in view, and was solicitous to lead his company, the Court, and the nation to a very different 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 tlie State, yet without overturning the political system under which they were born. The parliament made an important admission : it declared that it had not the power to grant imposts, and that to the States-general alone belonged the right of establishing them ; and it required the King to com- municate to it statements of the revenues and the expenditure. This acknowledgment of incompetence and usurpation — for the parliament had till then arrogated to itself the right of sanctioning taxes — could not but excite astonishment. The prelate minister, irritated at this opposition, instantly summoned the parliament to A'ersailles, and caused the two edicts to be registered in '' a bed of justice." The parliament, on its return to Paris, remonstrated, and ordered an inquiry into the prodi- galities of Calonne. A decision in council instantly annulled its decrees, and exiled it to Troyes. Such was the state of affairs on the I5tli of August 1787. The King's two brothers, Monsieur and the Comte d'Artois, were sent, the one to the Court of Accounts, and the other to the Court of Aids, to have the edicts registered there. The former, who had become po]>ular on account of the opinions which he had expressed in the Assembly of the Notables, w^as hailed with acclamations by an immense multitude, and conducted back to the Luxembourg ainidst universal plaudits. The Comte d'Artois, who was known to have supported Calonne, was AUG. 1787 THE FBENCH REVOLUTION. 9 received with murmurs ; his attendants were attacked, and it was found necessary to have recourse to the armed force. The parUaments had around them numerous dependents, composed of lawyers, persons holding situations in the palace, clerks, and students ; an active, bustling class, ever read)^ 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 multitude, which always sides with agitators. Serious disturbances took place, and the supreme authority had great difficulty to suppress them. The parliament 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 pre- ceding century. ]\[eanwhile the magistrates became weary of their exile, and M. de Brienne was without money. He boldly maintained that he did not want any, and trancpiillized the Court, uneasy on this single point ; but destitute of supplies, and incapable of putting an end to his difficulties by an ener- getic resolution, he entered into negotiation with some of the members of the parliament. His conditions were a loan of four hundred and forty millions (of livres), ]iayable by instalments in four years, at the expiration of which the States-general should be convoked. At this rate Brienne was willing to renounce the two imposts, the objects of so much discord. Ha^TLng made sure of some members, he imagined that he was sure of the whole company, and the parliament was recalled on the loth of September. A royal sitting was held on the 20th of the same month. The King went in person to present the edict enacting the creation of the successive loan, and the convocation of the States-general in five years. No explanation had been given respecting the nature of this sitting-, and it was not known whether it was "a bed (if justice" or not. The looks of the members were gloomy, and a profound silence prevailed, when the Due d'Orleans rose with agitated countenance and all the signs of strong emotion : he addressed the King, and asked him if this sitting were " a bed of justice "' or a free deliberation. '"It is a royal sitting," replied the Iving. The councillors Fre- teau, Sabatier, and d'Espremenil spoke after the Due d'Orleans, and declaimed with their usual violence. The registration was immediately enforced : Freteau and Sabatier were exiled to the Hieres Islands, and the Due d'Orleans to A'illers-Cotterets. The States-general were postponed for five years. Such were the principal events of the year 1 787. The year 10 HISTORY OF jan. 1788 1788 commenced with fresli hostilities. On the 4th of January the parliament passed a decree against lettres de cachet, and for the recall of exiled persons. The King cancelled this decree ; the parliament confirmed it anew. Meanwhile the Due d'Orleans, banished to Villers-Cotterets, could not endure his exile. This prince, in quarrelling with the Court, had reconciled himself with public opinion, which was at first unfavourable to him. Destitute alike of the dignity of a prince and the firmness of a tribune,* he was incapable of enduring so slight a punishment, and in order to obtain his recall, he descended to solicitations even to the Queen, his personal enemy. Brienne was exasperated by obstacles, without possessing energy to overcome them. Feeble in Europe against Prussia, to which he sacrificed Holland, feeble in France against the parliament and the grandees of the State, he had now no sup- porter but the Queen, and, moreover, was frequently checked in his operations by ill health. He neither knew how to suppress insurrection, nor how to enforce the retrenchments decreed by the King; and notwithstanding the rapidly approaching exhaus- tion of the exchequer, he affected an inconceivable security. Meanwhile, amidst all these difficulties, he did not neglect to obtain new benefices for himself, and to heap new dignities upon his family. Lamoignon, the keeper of the seals, a man of a stronger mind, 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 importance to keep it secret. Everything was prepared in silence : private letters were sent to the commandants of the provinces ; the office where the edicts were printed was sur- rounded with guards. It was intended that the plan should not be known till the moment of its communication of the parlia- ments. That moment approached, and it was rumoured that an important political act was 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, sum- moned his colleagues to assemble, and boldly denounced the plan 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 haillages in its jurisdiction. The power of judging without appeal, and of registering the laws and edicts, was to be transferred to a plenary court, composed of peers, prelates, * See Appendix B. LS> iDr igTj.^; '^j. w (I !) M J [ 1 1 i^' i^ir 'i ^, f ega/jteJ ' lie 5 MAY 1 788 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 1 1 magistrates, and military officers ; all appointed by the King. Even the captain of the guard was to have a deliberative voice in it. This plan attacked the judicial autliority of the parlia- ment, and utterly annihilated its political power. The company, struck with consternation. kneAv 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 suffer itself to be taken by surprise. In this embarrassment it had recourse to an expedient at once firm and adroit — that of recapitulating and confirming in a decree all that it called constitutional laws of the monarchy, taking care to include in the number its own existence and rights. By this general measure it by no means forestalled the supposed projects of the government, and secured all that it wished to secure. ' In consequence, it was declared, on the 5th of May, by the parliament of Paris : — • " That France was a monarchy governed by a King, according to the la\vs ; and that among these laws several, which were fundamental, embraced and consecrated: i. The right of the reigning house to the throne, from male to male, in the order of primogeniture ; 2. The right of the nation to grant subsidies freely through the organ of the States-general, regularly con- voked and composed ; 3. The customs and capitulations of the provinces; 4. The irremovability of the magistrates; 5. The right of the courts to verify in each pro\T.nce the edicts of the King, and not to order the registration of them, unless they were conformable to the constitutive laws of the province, as well as to the fundamental laws of the State ; 6. The right of each citizen not to be tried in any manner by other than his natural judges, wlio 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 judges. The said court protested against all attacks which might be made upon the principles above expressed." To this energetic resolution the minister replied in the usual way, always injudicious and ineffectual : he adopted violent measures against some of the members of the parliament. D'Espremenil and Goislart de Monsalbert. being apprized that they were threatened, sought refuge amidst the assembled parliament. An officer, Vincent d'Agoult, repaired thither at the head of a company ; and not knowing the persons of the magistrates designated, he called them by their names. The deepest silence at first pervaded the Assembly : all the councillors then cried out that they were d'Espremenil. At 12 HISTORY OF MAY 1788 length the real d'Espremenil declared who he was, and followed the officer ordered to arrest him. The tumult was then at its height 5 the populace accompanied the magistrates, hailing them with shouts of applause. Three days afterwards the King, in a bed of justice, caused the edicts to be registered, and the assembled princes and peers exliibited an image of tliat plenary court which was to succeed the parliaments. The Ohatelet immediately issued a decree against the edicts. The parliament of Rennes declared all who should belong to the plenary court infamous. At Grenoble the inhabitants de- fended their magistrates against two regiments. The troops themselves, excited to disobedience by the military noblesse, soon refused to act. When the commandant of Dauphint^ 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 reliance 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 it in 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-6tat (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 investigations respecting the mode of their assembling ; it called upon writers and learned bodies to give their opinions ; and whilst the assembled clergy declared on its part that a speedy convoca- tion was desirable, the Court, accepting the challenge, sus- pended at the same time the meeting of the plenary court, and fixed the opening of the States-general for the ist of May 1789. Then followed the retirement of the Archbishop of Toulouse, who, by bold plans feebly executed, had pro- voked a resistance which he ought either not to have excited or to have overcome. And on quitting office he left the exchequer in distress — the payment of the rentes of the Hotel de Ville suspended — all the authorities in hostility — all the pro^dnces in arms. As for himself, possessing an income of eight hundred thousand francs from benefices, the 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 recall Necker to the ministry of the finances, that he might fortify himself with his popularity against oppositions which had become unconquerable. DEC. 1788 TEE FRENCH RE VOL UTIOK 1 3 It was during 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. After the clergy, it had attacked the Court, condemned its abuses of power, and denounced its extravagance. Threatened with reprisals, and attacked, in its turn, in its existence, it had at leng*th just restored to the 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 fomenting the disobedience of the troops, had joined their efforts to those of the magistracy, and summoned the people to arms in behalf of their privileges. 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 abolished some abuses, rather for the benefit of the exchequer than of the people, and then sunk again into inactivity. At length, finding itself attacked on all sides, observing that the higher orders were calling the people into the lists, it resolved to introduce them there itself by convoking the States-general. Hostile during the whole of the century to the philosophic spirit, it now appealed to the latter, and submitted the con- stitutions of the kingdom to its investigation. Thus the first authorities of the State exhibited the singular spectacle of usurpers disputing the possession 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 re- stored ; the most urgent diflficulties were removed. He pro- vided, by means of expedients, for indispensable expenses till the meeting of the States-general, the remedy that was univer- sally called for. The great cpiestions relative to their org'anisation began to be discussed. It was asked what part the Hers-^tat would have to act there ; whether it would appear as an equal or a suppli- cant ; whether it would obtain a representation equal in number to that of the two higher orders ; whether the discussions would be carried on by individuals or by orders ; and whether 14 HISTORY OF dec. 1788 the tiers wonld not have merely a single voice against the two voices of the nobility and clergy. The first question discussed was that relative to the number of the deputies. Never had philosophic controversy of the eighteenth century excited such agitation. People's minds became warmed by the positive importance of the cpiestion. 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 Si(^yes, in a book which gave a powerful impulse to the public mind, asked this question, ''What is the ticrs-6tatV And he answered, " Nothing." " What onght it to be ? " '' Everything." * The States of Dauphin^ assembled in spite of the Court. The two higher orders, more adroit and more popular in that country than anysvhere else, decided that the representation of the third estate should be equal to that of the nobility and the clergy. The parliament of Paris, foreseeing already the consequence of its improvident provocations, perceived plainly that the ticrs-4tat 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 16 14, which reduced the third order to a mere cipher. Having already rendered itself unpopular by the difficulties which it had thrown in the way of the edict that restored civil rights to Protestants, 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 period the nation might appear ungrateful towards chiefs whonr it for- sook one after another, on this occasir>n 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 * "Bonaparte said to nie one day, 'That fool Siej^es is as credulous as a Cassandra.' In the intercourse, not very frequent certainly, which I had with him, he appeared to be far beneath the reputation which he had acquired. He reposed a blind confidence in a multitude of agents, whom he had sent into all parts of France. Sit;yes had written in his countenance, 'Give me money.' I recollect that I one day alluded to this expression in the anxious face of Si^yes to the First Consul. 'You are right,' observed ho to me, smiling, 'when money is in question, Si^yes is quite a matter-of-fact man. He sends his ideology to the right-about, and thus becomes easily manageable. He readily abandons his constitutional dreams for a good round sum, and that is very convenient.' M. de Talleyrand, who is so capable of estimating men, and whose admirable sayinc^s well deserve to occupy a place in history, had long entertained an indilTerent opinion of Si5yes. One day when he was conversing with the Second Consul concerning him, Cambaceres said, ' Sieyes, however, is a very profound man.' ' Profound I ' said Talleyrand, ' yes, he is a cavity, a perfect cavity as you would say.' " — Bourrienne'a Memoirs of Napoleon. DEC. 1788 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTIOK 1 5 itself, or rather desirous of depriving the two higher orders of their popularity for its own benefit, asked their opinion, with the intention of not adopting it, as it was probable that opinion should be unfavourable to the ticrs~dat. It sum- moned, therefore, a new Assembly of Notables, in which all the questions relative to the holding of States-general were brought 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 16 14 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 pro- vinces, not by orders ; frequently the deputies of the tiers had equalled in number 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 vanquished and de- spoiled, raising itself again with the aid of the people, and again uniting all the powers in its own hands, exhibited a peqDetual 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 deputa- tion ; the parliaments themselves, that they were but unfaith- ful officers of royalty ; lastly, all were assured that the French constitution had been but one long revolution, during which each power had successively predominated ; that eveiything had been innovation, and that amid this vast conflict it was for reason alone to decide. The tiers-dat comprehended nearly the whole nation, all the useful, industrious, enlightened classes. If it possessed but a portion of the lands, at least it wrought them all ; and accord- ing to reason, it 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 govern- ment offices, that over which Monsieur, tlie King's brother, presided, voted for this doubling.* The Court then taking, as it said, into consideration the opinion of the minority, the * "This resolution was carried hy the single castino; vote of Monsieur, who was afterwards Louis XVIII. When it was reported to Louis XVI., he observed ' Let them add mine ; I give it willingly.' " — Labaume. 1 6 HIS TOR Y OF dec. 1788 sentiments expressed by several princes of the blood, the wishes of the three orders of DauphinL-, the demand of the provincial assemblies, the example of several countries of the kingdom, the ojnnion of various public 'ivr iters, and the recommendations contained in a great number of addresses — the Court ordained that the total number of the deputies should be at least a thousand ; that it should be formed in a ratio comjoosed of the population and the amount of taxes paid by each baillagc, and that the number of tlie de23uties of the tiers-6tat should be equal to that of the other two orders united. This declaration excited universal enthusiasm. As it was 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 they w^ere not to be counted ; and it left the tiers-Mat to seize by main force what was refused to it at the moment. It therefore conveyed an idea of the weakness of the Court, and of Necker himself. That Court included an assemblage of inclinations which rendered any decisive result impossible. The King was moderate, equitable, studious, and too distrustful of his own abilities ; loving the people, and readily listening to their complaints. He was nevertheless seized at times with superstitious terrors, and fancied that he beheld anarchy and impiety marching hand in hand with liberty and toleration. The philosophic spirit in its first flights could not but commit extravagances, and a timid and religious King could not help being alarmed at them. Over- come 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 indulgence for the Court, of his con- descension 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 plea- sure, dazzling all around her by her charms, was desirous that her husband should enjoy tranquillity, that the exchequer should be full, that the Court and her subjects should adore her.l * "The concessions of Necker were those of a man ignorant of the first prin- ciples of the government of mankind. It was lie who overturned the monarchy, and brou,i,fht Louis XVI. to tlie scalfohl. ]\Iarat, Danton, Robespierre himself, did less mischief to France. Necker was the author of all tlie evils which desolated France durini,' the lu'volution : all the blood that was shed rests on liis head. "— i^oi(rrjm/?e'.s Memoirs of Napoleon. t Madame le Brun, the celelirated painter, in her Memoirs^ written by herself, draws the following picture of this princess ;— DEC. 1788 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION, 17 tSometimes she concurred with the King for the purpose of effecting reforms, when the necessity for them appeared urgent ; at othei s, on the contrary, when she conceived the supreme authority to be threatened, and her Court friends de- spoiled, she stop])ed the King, removed the popular ministers, and destroyed at once the means and the hopes of improve- ment. 81ie yielded more especially to the inlluence of a portion of the injljility wdio lived around the throne, fattening on favours and abuses. This Court nobility was solicitous, no doubt, like the Queen herself, that the i\ing should have wherewithal to supply a lavish profusion ; and from this motive it was inimical to the parliaments when they refused taxes, but became their ally when they defended its privileges, by refusing, under specious pretexts, the territorial impost. Amidst these contrarv inhuences the Kine*, iiot darinp- to face difficulties, to condemn abuses, or to suppress them authorita- tively, ga\'e way l^y turns to the Court and to public opinion, without satisfviuff eitlu-r. If during the course c)f the eighteenth century, when the philosophers, assembled in an alley of the Tuileries, wished success to Frederick and the Americans, to Turgot and Necker — if when they did not yet as]nre t(.> govern tlie State, but merely to enligliten princes, and foresaw at most the distant revolutions which the signs of disquiet and the absurdity of " It was iu tlic year 1779 tliat 1 [jaiuted for the lirst time the portrait of tlie Queen, then iu the llower of her youtli and l.)eauty, ]\Iarie Antoinette was tall, exquisitely well made, sufficiently plump without Ijeing too much so. Her arms were superb, her hands small, perfect in lorm, and her feet charming. Her gait was more graceful than that of au}'^ woman in France ; she held her head very erect, with a majesty which enabled you to distinguish the sovereign amidst all lier Court, and yet that majesty did not in tlie least detract from the extreme kind- ness and benevolence of her look. In short, it is extremely difficult to convey to any one who has not seen the (^>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 peculiar to the Austrian nation. Her eyes Avere not large, their colour was nearly blue, and they had an intellectual and mild ex[tression ; her nose was thin and handsome, her mouth not too large, though the lips were rather thick. But the most remarkable thing about her lace was the brilliancy of her complexion. I never saw any so brilliant — yes, brilliant is the word — for her skin was so transparent that it took no shade. Hence 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 conversation, it would be difficult for me to describe all its grace, all its bene- volence. I do not think that Queen i\Iaric Antoinette ever missed an occasion to say an agreeable thing to those who had the honour to approach her. During the hrst sitting that I had of her ilajesty on her return from Fontainebleau, I ventured to remark to the Queen how much the erectness of her head 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 T " VOL. I. 2 * 1 8 IIISTOIi Y OF DEC. 1788 existing institutions fully antliorized tliem to expect — it" the King liad spontaneously established some ecpiahtyin the official appointments, and given some guarantees, all discontent would have been appeased for a long time, and Louis XVI. would have been as mucli adored as was Marcus iVurelius.''^ -But when all the authorities iiad been debased by a long struggle, and all tln^ abuses unveiled by an Assembly of Notables ; when the nation, called into the cjuarrel, Imd conceived the hope and the will to be something, that will became imperative. The (States-general was promised to the nation, it demanded that an early time should be jSxed for their convocation ; when that time was near at hand, it insisted on the pre]3onderance in them : this Avas refused ; but in the doubling of the repre- sentation it was furnished with the means of conquering that preponderance. Thus the government never yielded but parti- ally, and w]ien it could no longer resist ; but then the strength of the nation had increased ; it was aware of its power, and required all that it conceived itself capable of accomplishing. A continual resistance, irritating its ambition, must soon have the effect of rendering it insatiable. But even then, if a great minister, communicating somewhat of energy to the King, conciliating the Queen, bridling the privileged classes, had anticipated and satisfied at once the national expectations by giving of his own accord a free constitution ; if he had gratified the impulse to act which the nation then felt, by summoning it immediatelv. not to reform the State, but to discuss its annual interest in a ready constituted State — perhaps the conflict would not have taken place. But it would have been abso- lutely necessary to meet the difficulty instead of giving way to it, and, above all, to sacrifice numerous pretensions. It would have required a man of a strong conviction, and pos- sessing a resolution equal to his conviction ; and this man, no doul)t, bold, energetic, perhaps passionate, would have alarmed the Court, which desired 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. He selected, as we have seen, a half-plulosophic, half-energetic minister, and who possessed immense popularity, because at that time demi- popular intentions in an agent of power surpassed all the * "The life of Marcus Aurelius was the noblest commentary on the precepts of Zeno, He was severe to himself, indulgent to the imperfection of others, just and beneficent to all mankind. War he detested, as the disgrace and calamity of human nature. His memory was revered by grateful posterity, and above a century after his death many persons preserved his image among those of their household gods." — Gibbon'.^ Rome, DEC 1788 THE FBENCH BEVOLUTION. 19 liopes and excited the entliusiasm of a pectple wliom the demagogne spirit of its leaders was ^ ery soon afterwards in- capable of satisfying. J\Ien"s minds were in a universal ferment. Assembhes were formed throughout France, Hke those of England, and called by the same name, that of clubs. Nothing was discussed in them but tlu' abuses to be abolished, the reforms tt> be effected, and the constitution to be established. A rigid inquiry into the state of the country produced irritation. Its state, political and economical, w^as in truth intolerable. There was nothing but pri\ileges belonging to individuals, towns, provinces, and to trades themselves ; nothing but shackles upon the industry and genius of man. Civil, ecclesiastical, and military dignities were exclusively resei'ved for certain classes, and in those classes for certain individuals, A man could not embrace a profession unless upon certain titles and certain pecuniary conditions. The towns possessed their privileges for the apportioning, the assess- ment, and the lev^ang of taxes, and for the choice of magis- trates. The very pensions, converted by the survivors into family ^oroperties, scarcely allowed the monarch to show any preferences. He had nothing left at his disposal but a few pecuniary gifts, and he had even been obliged to quarrel with the Due de Coigny about the abolition of a useless place.* All w^as therefore monopolized by a few hands, and the burdens bore upon a single class. Tlie nobility and the clergy possessed nearl}^ twr)-tliirds of the landed property. The other third, belonging to the people, paid taxes to the King, a multitude of feudal dues to the nobilitv, the tithe to the clero'v, and was, moreover, liable to the devastations of noble S])ortsmen and their game. The taxes on consumption weighed heavily on the great mass, and consequentl}^ on the people. The mode in which they were levied was vexatious : the gentry might be in arrear with impunity ; the people, on the other hand, ill- treated and imprisoned, were doomed to suffer in body, in default of e'oods. It subsisted therefore by the sweat of the brow ; it defended wdth its blood the upper classes of society, without being able to subsist itself. The bourgeoisie, indus- trious, enlightened, less miserable certainly than the peasantry, but enriching the kingdom hj its industry, reflecting lustre upon it by its talents, obtained none of the advantages to which it had a rio-]it. Justice, administered in some of the provinces by the gentry, in the royal jurisdictions by magis- trates who purchased their offices, w^as slow, frequently paitial, * See Bouille's Memolres. 2 o HISTOB Y OF may 1 7 8 9 always ruinous, and particularly atrocious in criminal cases. Individual liberty was violated l)y Icttrcs dc cachet, and the libert}^ of the press by the royal censors. Lastly, the State, ill-defended abroad, betrayed by the mistresses of Louis XV., compromized bv the weakness of t\\Q. ministers of Louis XVI., had recently been dishonoured in Europe by the disgraceful sacrifice of Holland and Poland. The po])uhar 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 Archbisho]) of Toulouse. That minister had been burned in effigy ; tlie armed force had been insulted and even attacked ; the magistracy had l3een backward in j^rosecuting the rioters, who supported their cause. The ]nil)lic mind, agitated by these e\"ents, full of the confused idea of a speedy revolution, was in a continual ferment. The ]3arliaments and the liigher orders alreadv saw the arms wliich they had o-h-en to the people directed against themselves. In Bretagne tlie nobility had o])posed the doubling of the third estate, and had refused to elect deputies ; the bourgeoisie, who had so powerfully served against the Court, tlien turned against them, and sanguinary conflicts ensued. The Court, conceiving itself not sufficiently revenged on the Bi-eton nobility,* refused tliem its aid, and, on the contrar}', imprisoned some of tlieir number wlio came to Paris for the ]">urpose of remonstrating. The elements tlieraseh'es seemed to ])e let loose. A hail- storm on the 13th of Jiity had made liavoc among tlie crops, and was likely to increase the difficulty of sup])lying ]^aris, especially amidst the troubles that were preparing. All the activity of commerce was scarcely sufficient to collect the quantity of provisions necessary for that great capital ; and it might naturally be ex])ected that it would soon be very difficult to subsist it, when coiffidence should be shaken, and the communications interrupted by political disturbances. Ever since the cruel winter which had succeeded the disasters of Louis XI A'^., and immortalized the charity of Penelon, so severe a season had not been knoAvn as that of 1 788-1789. The bene- ficence wliich was then dis])layed in the most affecting manner was not sufficient to alleviate the wretchedness of the peo-i)le. A great number of vagabonds, without profession and without resources, thronged from all parts of France, and paraded their indigence and their nakedness from A'ersailles to Paris. At the slightest rumour they eagerly came forward to profit bv * Sec Bouille's Mcmoircs. MAY 1 7 8 9 THE FBENCIT BE VOL UTION. 2 1 chances, which are always favourable to those who have every- thmg to gam, even to the subsistence for the passing day.* Thus everytliing concurred to produce a revolution. An entire century had contributed to un\eil abuses and to carry them tf) excess ; two years, to stir u]) insurrection and to exasperate the popular masses by making them interfere in the quarrel of tlie privileged orders. In sliort, natural disasters, and a fortuitous concurrence of various circinnstances, brought on the catastrophe, the epoch of which might have been de- ferred, but which was sure to happen sooner or later. It was amidst these circinnstances that the elections took place. They were tumultuous in some provinces, active every- where, and very quiet in Paris, where great unanimity pre- vailed. Lists were distributed, and people strove to promote concord and a good understanding. Tradesmen, lawyers, literary men, astonished to find themselves assembled together for the first time, raised themselves up by degrees to liberty. In Paris they reappointed themselves the bureaux formed by the King, and without changing the persons, asserted their power by confirming them. The learned Bailly quitted his retreat at Chaillot : a stranger to intrigues, and deeply impressed with his noble mission, he proceeded alone and on foot to the Assembly. He paused by the way on the terrace of the Feuillans. A young man, whom he did not know, respectfully accosted him. '^ You will be returned," said he. "I cannot tell," replied Bailly; "that honour ought neither to be solicited nor refused." The modest academician resumed his walk, repaired to the Assembly, and was chosen successively elector and deputy. The election of the Comte de Mirabeau was stormy : rejected by the nobility, supported l^y the tiers-Mat, he agitated Pro- vence, his native country, and it was not long before he showed himself at Versailles. The Court had no wish to influence the elections. It was not displeased to see a great number of cures returned, reckon- ing u]:)on their opposition to the high ecclesiastical dignitaries, and at the same time upon their respect for the throne. It is true that it did not foresee all that was to happen ; and in the * "The charity of FeiiLJlon, wliicli iniinortalizecl the disastrous epoch of Louis XIV., was now equalled by the humane beneficence of the clergy of Paris ; but all their ellbrts could not keep pace with the imniense m:i.ss of indi,2;ence, whicli was swelled by the coniluence of dissolute and abandoned characters from every part of France. These wretches assembled round the throne, like the sea-birds round the wreck, which are the liarbin,r,^ers of death to the sinkin.;:,' mariner, and already appeared in fearful numbers in the streets on occasion of the slightest tumult. They were all in a state of destitution, and for the most part owed their life to the charity of the ecclesiastics, whom tliey afterwards massacred iu cold blood in the prison of Carmes. " — Alison's French Revolutivn. 2 2 HIS TOE Y OF MAY 1789 deputies of the tiers it perceived rather adversaries to the nobility than to itself. The Dnc d'Orleans was accused of taking active steps to procure the nomination of himself and his partisans. Already numbered among the enemies of the Court, the ally of the parliaments, and called for as leader, with or without his consent, by the popular party, he was accused of various underhand practices. A deplorable scene took place in the Faubourg St. Antoine, and as people are fond of giving an author to all events, it was laid to his charge. Keveillon, a manufacturer of stained paper, who had an extensive manufactory, improving our industry, and furnishing emplo}^- ment to three hundred workmen, was accused of an intention to reduce their wag*es to one-half. The populace threatened to burn his house. Means were found to disperse them ; bat they returned on the following day ; the house was broken into, set on fire, and destroyed. Notwithstanding the threats held out on the first day by the assailants, notwithstanding the 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 them- selves 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 of trigands. All the parties which were already formed accused each other; the Court was reproached with its at first. tardy and afterwards cruel proceedings ; it was supposed that it Avished to leave the people time to act that it might make an example and exercise its troo]3S. 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 were urged on by a secret hand. The enemies of the popular party accused the Due d'Orleans of a wish to try his revolutionary bands. That prince had been endowed with excellent Cjualities. He had inherited immense wealth ; but addicting himself to dissolute habits, he had abused all these gifts of nature and of fortune. Without consistency 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. When ]:)arties began to form themselves, he liad suffered 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 accusation on himself, though MAY 1789 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION, 23 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 of the convocation at leng-th 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 gentle- men, and in their absence they ridiculed their clownishness. The clergy endeavoured to gain over the ^^lebeians of its order, and the military noblesse those belonging to the same class with itself. The parliaments, which had expected to play the prin- cipal ]3art in the States-general, began to apprehend that their ambition had miscalculated. The deputies of the ticrs-^tat, strong in the superiority of their talents, in the energetic elocpience of their speeches, encouraged by continual intercom- munication, nay, spurred on by the doubts which many had conceived respecting the success of their efforts, had taken the firm resolution not to yield. The King alone, who had not enjoyed a moment's repose since the commencement of his reign, regarded the States- general as the termination of his embarrassments. Jealous of his authority, rather for the sake of his children, to whom he deemed it his duty to transmit this patrimony intact, than for his own, he was not displeased to restore a portion of it to the nation, and to throw u]30n it the difficulties of the 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 ui^on, and an humiliating badge had been imposed on the tiers-Mat . Men are not less jealous of their dignity than of their rights : wdth a very jiist 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 S3"mbols when the realities had ceased to exist. It could not but pro- duce a deep irritation at a moment when, before attacking, the parties began to measure one another with their eyes. On the 4th of May, the day of the opening, a solemn pro- cession took place. The King, the three orders, all the great dignitaries of the State, repaired to the church of Notre-Dame. The Court had displayed extraordinary magnificence. The two higher orders were splendidly dressed. Princes, dukes and peers, gentlemen, prelates, were clad in purple, and wore hats with plumes of feathers. The deputies of the tiers-etat, covered with plain black cloaks, came next ; and notwithstanding their modest exterior, they seemed strong in their number and their 24 HISTORY OF may 1789 prospects. It was remarked that the Due crOrleans, 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 import- ance of the event — deeply moved all hearts. The discourse delivered by tlie Eishop of Nanci, full of generous sentiments, was enthusiastically ap])lauded, notwithstanding the sacredness of the place, and the presence of the King. Great assemblages elevate us. The}^ detach us from ourselves, and attach us to others. A general intoxication was diffused, and all at once manv a heart felt its animosities subside, and became filled for a moment with humanity and patriotism.* The opening of the States-general took place on the following- day, May 5, 1789. The King was seated on an elevated throne, the Queen beside him, the Court in stalls, the t^vo higher orders on both sides, the tiers-6tat at the farther end of the hall, and on lower seats. A movement arose at the sight of the Comte de Mirabeau ; but liis look, his step, awed the Assembh^-f- The ticrs-dtat remained covered like the other orders, notwithstand- ing the established custom. The King delivered an address, in which he recommended disinterestedness to some, prudence to others, and professed to all his love for his people. Barentin, the keeper of the seals, then spoke, and was followed by Necker, who read a memorial on the state of the kingdom, in which he treated at great leng*th of the finances, admitted a * See Ap|iendix C. t "Excluded from the rank to wliicli liis birth entitled liiin, Mirabeau deter- mined to recover it at any price. He vowed vengennce against his enemies, and with this bitterness of feeling did IMirabeau take liis seat in the Assembly of the States-general. As lie entered the liall he cast a threatening glance on the ranks which he was not allowed to approach. A bitter smile played on his lips, which were habitually contracted by an ironical and scornful expression. He proceeded across the hall, and seated liimself on those benches from which he was to hurl the thunderbolts which shook the throne. A gentleman strongly attached to the Court, but likewise a friend of Mirabeau, who had observed the rancorous look Avhich he darted round liim when he took his seat, entered into conversation witli him, and pointed out to him that his peculiar ^^osition in the world closed agauist him the door of every salon 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 impatience ; but when his friend used the word 'pardon,' he could contain himself no longer, but started up and stamped with violence on the floor. His bushy hair seemed to stand on end, his little piercing eyes Hashed lire, and his lips turned pale and quivered. This was always the. way with Mirabeau when he was strongly excited. 'I am come hither,' cried ho, \n a voice of thunder, 'to be asked, not to ask, pardon.' " — Mciunirs of the Jhiclwasc cV Ahrantes. " Hardly any of the de])uties had liitherto ac([uircd great ])Opular reputation. One alone attracted general attention. Dorn ot nolde ])arcnts, he had warmly espoused the popular side, without losing the pride of aristocratic connection. MAY 1789 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 2 5 deficit of fifty-six millions, and wearied by his prolixity those whom he did not offend by his lessons. On the next da}- the deputies of each order were directed to the place allotted to them. Besides the common hall, which was sufficiently spacious to hold the three orders united, two other halls had been erected for the nobility and the clergy. The common hall was assio'ned to the tiers ; and it thus had the advantage, whilst in its r>wn place of meeting, of being in that of the States. The first business was the verification of the powers of the members. It became 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 the two others, insisted on the verification in common. The nobility and the clergy, desirous of keeping up the di\dsion 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 ]:>rodiiced a di^dsion, which it was easy to foresee, and which might have been as easily prevented by putting an end to the dispute beforehand. But the Court never had the courage either to deny or to grant what was just, and besides, it hoped to reign by di^■iding. The deputies of the tiers-ctat remained assembled in the general hall, abstaining from taking any measure, and waiting, as they said, to be joined by their colleagues. The nobility and the clergy, retiiing to their res])ective halls, proceeded to de- liberate on the verification. The clergy voted the separate verification by a majority of 133 to 114, and the nobility by a majority of 188 to 1 14. The ticrs-dtat. persisting in its inaction, pursued on the morrow the same course as on the preceding day. It made a point of avoiding any measure which could His talents, universally known, tmd liis integrity, generally suspected, rendered him the object of painful anxiety ; liarsli and disagreeable features, a profusion of black hair, and a commanding air, attracted the curiosity even of those who Avere unacquainted with his reputation. His name was IMirareau, future leader of the Assembly ! Two ladies of rank, from a gallery, with very different feel- ings, beheld the spectacle. The one was Madame de ]\lontmorin, wife of the Minister of Foreign Alfairs ; the other, the illustrious daughter of M. Necker, ]\[adame de Stael. The latter exulted in the boundless prospect of national felicity which seenied to be opening under the auspices of her father. ' You are wrong to rejoice,' said ]\radame de Montmorin ; * this event forebodes much misery to France and to ourselves.' Her presentiment turned out too well founded : she herself perished on the scaffold with one of her sons ; another was drowned ; her husband was massacred in the ])risons on September 2nd ; her eldest daughter was cut oil in gaol ; her youngest died of a broken heart before she had attained the age of thirty years." — Alisons Froirh Revolution. 2 6 HISTORY OF may 1789 cause it to be considered as constituting a separate order. For tins reason, in sending a deputation of its members to the other two chambers, it abstained from giving them any express mis- sion. These members were sent to the nobihty and clergy to inform them that the ticrs-dktt was waiting for them in the common hall. The nobility were not sitting at the moment ; the clergy were assembled, and offered to appoint commissioners to settle the differences that had arisen. They actually appointed them, and invited the nobilitv to do the same. In this contest the clergy manifested a very different spirit from the nobility. Among all the privileged classes it had suifered 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 ; besides, its professional character was that of modera- tion and the spirit of 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 modera- tion but to valour, it vented itself in refusals and threats. 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. Casales and d'Espremenil, recently ennobled, made the most indiscreet motions, and after preparing them in a private meeting, procured their ado]:)tion 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 anything. They talked of fighting and dying, and they added, for the laws and justice. The ticrs- dtat, immovable, endured with patience every insult. Though irritated, it was silent, conducted itself with the prudence and firmness of all powers which are commencing their career, and received the applause of the tribunes, originally destined for the Court, but soon taken possession of by the public. Several days had already elapsed : the clergy had laid snares for the ticrs-etat by inciting it to certain acts which would have given it the character of a constituted order. It had, liowever. constantly refused to com"|:)ly ; and taking only in- dispensable measures of internal police, it had confined itself to the election of a dean and assistants for the purpose of collecting o]-)inions. It refused to open the letters addressed to it, and it declared that it formed not an order, but a meeting of eitizens assemUed hy a kyitimate autliority to wait for other citizens. M I e A M:> IS A ''ff MAY 1789 THE FBENCH RE VOL UTIOK 2 7 The nobility, after refusing to appoint conciliatory com- missioners, at leng-tli consented to send deputies to arrange 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 6th of May. which enjoined the separate verification. The clergy, on the contrary, adhering to its part, had suspended the verification which "it had at first commenced in its own chamber, and declared itself not constituted, awaiting the conferences of the conciliatory commissioners. The conferences were opened : the clero-v was silent ; the deputies of the commons argued their ]ioint with calmness ; those of the nol^ility, with warmth. Both parties returned soured by the dispute ; and the flcrs-etaf. determined not to give way, was doubtless not displeased to learn that all compromise was impossible. The nobilitv was 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 pecuniary ]ni\ileges. The ticrs-etat accepted the concession, but persisted in its refusal to proceed to business, still recpiiring the common verification. The conferences yet cnntinued, when it was at length pro- posed, by way of accommodating the matter, that the powers should be verified by commissioners chosen from tlie three orders. The deputies of the nobility declared in its name its dissent from this arrangement, and retired without appointing any new conference. Thus the negotiation was broken off. The same day the nobility passed a resolution by which it declared anew that for this session the verification should take ]3lace separately, and that it should be left for the States to determine upon some other mode in future. This resolution was communicated to the commons on the 27th of May. They had been assembled ever since the 5th ; twenty-two days had consequently elapsed, during which nothing had been done. It was high time to come to a de- termination. Mirabeau, who gave the impulse to the po])ular party,* observed that it was time to decide upon sometliing, and to commence their labours for the public welfare, which had been too long delayed. He proposed, tlierefore, in con- sequence of the resolution passed by the nobility, to send a messao'e to the clero-v, in order to obtain an immediate explanation from it. and to ascertain whether it would or would not meet the commons. The proposal was immedi- ately adopted. Target, the deputy, proceeded, at the head * See Appendix D. 2 8 HIS TOR Y OF may 1 7 8 9 of a numerous deputation, to the hall of the clergy. "'The gentlemen of the commons," said he, " invite the gentlemen of the clergy, IN THE NAME OF THE GOD OF PEACE, and for the national interest, to meet them in the hall of the Assembly, to consult upon the means of effecting the concord so neces- sary at this moment for the public welfare." The clergy was struck with these solemn words. A great number of its members answered them witli acclamations, and would have instantly complied with this invitation had they not been pre- vented ; and the reply given to the deputies of the commons was, that it would deliberate on the subject. On the return of the deputation, the inexorable tiers-6tat determined to await, without breaking \r\), the answer of the clergy. As this answer did not arrive, a message was sent that the commons were waiting for it. The clergy complained of being hurried, and requested to be allowed the necessary time. The tiers- Hat replied with moderation that the clergy might take its own time, and that the commons would wait, if requisite, the whole day and the wliole night. The situation was difficult. The clergy knew that after its answer the commons would fall to work and adopt a decisive course. It wished to temporize, in order to concert with the Court. It recjiiired time till the following day, which was granted with regret. Next day the King resolved, in accord- ance with the wishes of the higher orders, to interfere. At this moment all the animosities between, the Court and the higher orders began to be forgotten at the sight of that popular power which rose with such rapidity. The King at length appeared, and invited the three orders to resume their conferences in the presence of the keeper of the seals. The tiers-etat, notwithstanding all that has been said of its ]3rojects upon judgments formed after the events, did not extend its wishes beyond moderate monarchy. Knowing the intentions of Louis XVI.. it was fnll of respect for him; and unwilling to injure its cause by any wrong step, it replied, that out of deference to the King, it consented to renew the conferences, though in consequence of the declaration of the nobility it could not but considei- them as useless. To this reply it annexed an address which it charged its Dean to deliver to the }Mnce. This Dean was Bailly, a sim]^le and virtiuuis man, an illustrious and modest cultivator of the sciences, who had been suddenly trans]:>orted from the, quiet studies of his closet into the midst of civil broils. Eh'cted to the presidency over a great Assembly, he had been alarmed at liis new office, had deemed himself unworthy to fill it, and undertaken it solely MAY 1789 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION, 29 from a sense of duty. But mised all at once to liberty, lie found within him an unexpected presence of mhid and firm- ness. Amid so many conllicts. he caused the majesty <>f the AssL'mbly to be respected, and represented it with all the dignity of virtue and of reason. J3ailly had the greatest difficulty to j^enetrate to the Iving. As he insisted on luring introduced, the courtiers reported that he had not even paid respect to the grief of the monarch, afflicted by the death oJ' the lJau])hin. He was at length ]^resented, contrived to avoid exery humiliating ceremonial, and disyjlayed equal firmness and resi)ect. The King received him OTaciously, but without enternig into any explanation of his intentions. Tlie government having decided on making some sacrifices to obtain money, designed, l.ty (.)])posing the orders, to become their umpire, to wrest from tlu' noljihty its pecuniary privi- leges with the assistance of the ttcrs-cUat. and to check the ambition of tlio latter by means of the nobility. As for tlie nobility having no iieed to concern itself about the embar- rassments of the administ]'ation, caring only for the sacrifices which were likely to l)e wrung from it, it ho]ied to bring about a dissolution of the h^tates-general. and thus to frustrate the object of tlieir convocation. The connuons, whom the Court and the higlun- orde]-s would not recognize by that titl(\ were incessantl}' acquiring fresh strength, and beirjg resohed to bra\'e all dangers, were anxious not to h.'t slip an opportunity which mio'ht neAc]^ occur. O The conferences demanded by the King took place. The; commissioners of the nobility raised all sorts of difficulties about the title of commons which tlie Urrs-rfnt had assumed, and about the form and signature of the minutes ( proccs- vcrhal). At leng-th the\' entered u]ion discussion, and they were almost reduced to silence by the reasons uro'ed ao-ainst them, when Necker, in the name of the King, proposed a new mode of conciliation. Each, order was to examine the ])owers separately^ and to communicate them to the othei's. In case difficulties should arise, commissioners should report iq^on them to each chamber, and if the decision of the different orders disagreed, the Iving Avas to judge definitively. Thus the Court would settle the dispute to its own advantage. The conferences w^ere immediately suspended to obtain the adhe- sion of the orders. The clergy accepted the plan purely and sim^Dly. 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 must be dated all its disasters. 3 o HIST OR Y OF may 1 7 8 9 The commons, apprized of this resolution, waited till it should be communicated to them, in order to explain them- selves in their turn ; but the clergy, with its ordinary cunning, desirous of bringing them into bad odour with the nation, sent them a deputation to invite them to take into considera- tion, along with it, the distress of the people, which was daily increasing, that they might lose no time in providing together against the dearth and higli price of provisions. The commons, who would have exposed themselves to the popular odium if they had appeared indifferent 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. The nobility then arrived, and solemnly communicated its resolution to the commons. It adopted, it said, the plan of conciliation, persisting, however, in the separate verification, and referring to the united orders and to the supreme juris- diction of the King such difficulties only as might arise respect- ing the entire deputations of a whole province. This resolution put an end to all the embarrassments of the commons. Obliged either to yield or to declare war single- nanded against the higher orders and the throne, if the plan of conciliation had been adopted, they were relieved from the necessity of explanation, as the ])lan had been accepted only with important alterations. The moment was decisive. To give way on the separate verification was not indeed 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 23art of a cipher, give money to power, be content with the abolition of a few abuses, when they saw the possibility of regenerating the State, or take a strong resolution and seize by force a portion of the legislative power. This was the first revolutionary act ; but the Assembly did not hesitate. In consecpience, all the minutes (jorocds-vcrhaux) being signed and the conferences finished, Mirabeau rose : "■ An^^ plan of conciliation rejected by one party," said he, "can no longer be examined by the other. A month is past; it is time to take a decisive step : a deputy of Paris has an important motion to make — let us hear him." Mirabeau., having opened the deliberation by his audacity, introduced to the tribune Sieyes, a man of a comprehensive mind, systematic and rigo- rous in his deductions. Sieyes in a few words recapitulated and explained the motives of the conduct of the commons. They had waited, and had acceded to all the conciliations pro- posed ; their long condescension Avas unavailing ; they could JUNE 1 7 8 9 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 3 1 delay no longer without failing in their duty; they ought consequently to send a last invitation to the other two orders, to join them for tho purpose of commencing the verilication. This proposition, based on sufiicient motives,* was received with enthusiasm ; it was even in contemplation to summon the two orders to meet within an hour. The period, however, was prorogued. The following day, Thinsday. being devoted to religious solemnities, it was postponed till Friday. On L'riday the last in^•itation was communicated. The two orders replied that they would consider it, and the Iving, that he would make known his intentions. The call of the halllafjes 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 (Jregoire. During the call of the haillagcs and the verification of the powers, a serious dispute arose concerning the title which the Assembly was to assume. Mirabeau proposed that of Represent a lives of the French Fcoplc ; jMounier, that of Dclihcra- tive Majority in the absence of the Jllinority ; Legrand, that of National Assembly. This last was ad(»pted, after a very long discussion, which lasted till the night of the i6th of June. It was one o'clock in the morning, and it became a cpiestion wdiether the Assembly should constitute itself before it broke up. or should defer that business till tlie following day. One portion of the deputies wished that not a moment should be lost, that they might acquire a legal character which should command the respect of the Court. A small number, wishing to impede the operations of the Assembly, became extremely violent, and uttered furious cries. The two parties, ranged on the two sides of a long talkie, reciprocally threatened each other. Baillv. placed at tlu.' centre, was called upon b)' the one to adjourn the Assembly ; by the other, to put the motion for constituting themselves to the vote. Unshaken amidst shouts and abuse, he continued for more than an hour motion- less and silent. The weather was tempestuous ; 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 trancpiillity on the retirement of those by wdiom it had been disturbed, recom- mended it to defer till daylight the important act which was proposed. His advice was adopted, and the Assembly broke up, applauding his firmness and prudence. Accordingly, on the 17th, the proposition was taken into consideration,'^ and by a majority of 491 votes against 90 * iSee Appendix E. ^ 2 HI ST OR Y OF JUNE 1789 0^ the commons constituted tliemselves the National Assembly. Sieyes, again charged to report the motives of this determi- nation, did it with his accustomed ])recision. "The Assembly, deliberating after the verification of the powers, ascertains that it is already composed of representatives sent directly by ninety-six hundredths at least of the nation. Such a mass of deputation could not remain inactive on account of the deputies of certain hailla'jes or of certain classes of citizens \ for the absent, lulio have been called, cannot pre- vent the present from exercising the plenitude of their rights, especially when the exercise of those rights is an urgent, an imperative duty. '' Moreover, as it belongs only to the verified representatives to concur in the national will, and as all the verified repre- sentatives are to be admitted into this Assembly, it is further indispensable to conclude that it belongs to it, and to it alone, to interpret and to represent the general will of the nation. •• There cannot exist any veto, any negati^'e power, between the throne and the Assemblv. ''The Assembly therefore declares that the general labour of the national restoration can and ought to be begun by the deputies present, and that they ought to prosecute it without interruption and without impediment. '' The denomination of National Assembly is the only one suitable to the Assembly in the present state of things, as well because tlie members who compose it are the only represen- tatives legitimately and publicly known and verified, as because they are sent by nearly the whole of the nation ; and lastly, because the representation being one and indivisible, none of the deputies, for whatever order or class he has been elected, has a riglit 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 no\v absent ; it wdll not cease to call them to fulfil the obligation im]:>osed upon them, to concur in the holding of the States-general. At whatever moment the absent deputies present themselves during the session that is about to be opened, it 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 wdiich are to accomplish the regeneration of France." Immediately after passing tliis resolution (cirriU), the As- sembly, 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 JUNE 1789 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 3 3 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, more- over, a bankruptcy, the ex]Dedient left to power for putting an end to the financial embarrassments, and dispensing Avith the national concurrence, it satisfied prudence and honour by placing the creditors of the State under the safeguard of French integrity. Lastly, it announced that it should imme- diately direct its attention to the causes of the dearth and of the public distress. These measures, which displayed equal courage and ability, produced a deep impression. The Court and the highe]- orders were alarmed at such courage and energy. ]\reanwhile the clergy was tumultuously deliberating whether it should join the commons. The multitude awaited outside the hall the result of its deliberation. The cures at lengih carried the ]ooint, and it was learnt that the union had been voted by a majoiity of 149 votes to 115. Those who had voted for the junction were received with transports of applause ; the others Avere abused and insulted by the populace. This moment was destined to brin?^ about a reconciliation between the Court and the aristocracy. The danger was ec(ual for both. The last revolution was as prejudicial to the King- as to the two higher orders themselves, whom tlie commons declared that they could dispense with. Tlie aristocracy imme- diately threw itself at the feet of the King. The Due de Luxembourg, the Cardinal de la Eochefoucauld, the Arclibishop of Paris, implored him to r(--press the audacity of the iicrs-clat, and to support their rights, whicli \\'ere attacked. 'J^ie ]iarlia- ment proposed to him to do without the States, promising to assent to all the taxes. The King was surrounded ]")y the princes and the Queen ; this A\'as more than was rec(uisite for his weakness : they hurried him off to IMarly, 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 when his mind Avas left free, but the effect of which the (Ann't soon took care to destroy. As soon as he perceived the necessity for the interference of the royal autliority, he formed a plan which to his courage appeared very bold. He ]'>roposed that the monarch, in a royal sitting, should command the union of the orders, but only for measures of general interest ; that he should assume to himself the sanction of all resolutions adopted by the States-general ; that he should condemn beforehand every institution hostile to moderate monarchy, such as that of VOL. I. 3 3 4 HI ST OR Y OF june 1 7 8 9 a single assembly ; lastly, that lie should promise the abolition of privileges, the ecpial admission of all Frenchmen to civil and military appointments, &c. As Necker had not had the energy to outstrip time for such a plan, so likewise he had not sufficient to ensure its execution. The council had followed the King to Marly. There Necker's plan, at first approved, was sul:>jected 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 himself vanquished, returned to Versailles. A page came three times bringing him notes con- taining new modifications ; his plan was wholly disfigured, and the roval sitting was fixed for the 22nd of June. It w^as as yet but the 20th, and already the hall of the States was shut up, under the pretext that ]3reparations were requisite for the presence of the King. These preparations might have been made in half a day ; but the clergy had delil^erated the day before upon joining the commons, and it was desirable to prevent this junction. An order from the King instantly adjourned the sittings till the 22nd. 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 Avas surrounded by soldiers of the French guard, who had orders to refuse admittance to every one. The ofiiicer on duty received ]3ailly with respect, and allowed him access to a court for the purpose of drawing u]) a protest. Some young hot-headed deputies would have forced their way through the sentries. Bailly hastened to the spot, appeased them, and took them with him, that the generous oflicer, who executed the orders of authority with such moderation, might not be com- promized. The deputies collected tumiiltiiously ; they persisted in assembling ; some ]:>roposed to hold a sitting under the very windows of the King, others proposed the tennis-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 were no seats. An arm-chair was offered to the ]n'esident, who refused it, and chose rather to stand Avith the Assembly ; a bench sei^ved for a desk ; two deputies were stationed at the door as doorkeepers, and were soon relieved by the keeper of the place, who came and ofi:'ered his services. The populace thronged around, and the deliberation commenced. Complaints JUNE 1789 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 3 5 were raised on all sides against this suspension of the sittings, and various expedients were proposed to prevent it in future. The agitation increased, and the extreme parties began to work upon the imaginations of their hearers. It was proposed to repair to l\aris ; tliis motion, hailed ^\'itll enthusiasm, was warmly supported ; and they bt^gan to talk of proceeding thither in a body and on foot. Jiailly was apprehensive that violence might be offered tr) the Assembly by the ^va}' ; dreading, moreover, a rupture, he opposed the scheme. Mounier then proposed to the deputies to bind tliemsehes by oath not to separate before the establishment of a constitution. This proposal was received with transport; the form of the uath was soon agreed upon. Bailly claimed the honour of being the first to take it, and read the form, which was as follows : ' ^'ou take a solemn oath never to se])arate, and to assemljle wherever circumstances shall recpiire, till the constitution of tlie kingdom is established and founded on a solid basis.' This form, pronounced in a loud and intelligible v<^>ice, was lieard outside the building. All li]:)S instantly repeated the oath ; all hands were outstretched towards Bailly, who, standing and motionless, received this solemn' en- gagement to ensure by la^AS the exercise of the national rights. The crowd instantly raised loud shouts of Vive VAsscml)l6:! -vivc Ic Roi! as if to prove that, witliout any feeling of anger or animositv, but from dutA% it reclaimed what was its due. The deputies then proceeded to sign the declaration which the}- had just made. One only, Martin d'Auch. added to his name the word opposer. A great tumult took place around him. Bailly, in order to be heard, mounted upon a table, addressed the deputy with moderation, and represented t(» him that he had a right to refuse his signature, but not to form an opposition. 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 nobilit}^, wlio went on the following day to lay their lamenta- tions 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 his assistance. The noble minority protested against this step, maintaining with reason that it was no lonsfer time to solicit the roval interference, after ha^^ng so unseasonably refused it. This minority, too little attended to, was composed of forty-seven members, among whom were enlightened military officers and magistrates — the Due de Liancourt, a generous friend to his King and to liberty ; the Due de la Rochefoucauld, distinguished for inflexible virtue 3 6 II 1ST OB Y OF june 1789 and great abilities ; Lally-Tollendal, already celebrated for his father's misfortunes and his eloquent reclamations ; Olermont- Tonnerre, remarkable for his eloquence ; the brothers Lameth, young colonels, known for their intelligence and their bravery ; Duport, already noticed for his extraordinary capacity and firm- ness of character ; and lastly, the Marquis de Lafayette, the defender of American freedom, and combining with French vivacity the perseverance and the simplicity of Washing1;on. Intrigues retarded all the operations of the Court. The sitting, at first fixed for Monday the 22nd, was postponed till the 23rd. A note written very late to Bailly, and at the termination of the great council, acquainted him with this postponement, and proved the agitation which pervaded all minds. Necker had resolved not to attend the sitting, that he might not sanction by his presence plans which he disapproved. Petty means, the ordinary resource of a feeble authority, were employed to prevent the meeting of Monday the 22nd. The princes hired the tennis-court for the purpose of ^^laying on that day. The Assembly repaired to the church of St. Louis, where it received the majority of the clergy, with the Arch- bishop of Vienne at its head. This junction, marked by the utmost dignity, excited the greatest joy. The clergy came, it was said, to submit to the common verification. The following day, the 23rd, was that fixed for the royal sitting. The deputies of the commons ^vere to enter by a side- door, a different one from that reserved for the nobility and clergy. If violence could ]iot be employed, they were not spared humiliations. They waited a long time exposed to the rain ; the president was obliged to knock at the door ; it was not opened. He knocked repeatedly, and was told that it was not yet time. The deputies were about to retire, when Bailly again knocked. The door was at leng-t,h opened ; the dejmties entered, and found tlie two higher orders in possession of their seats, which they had been desirous to secure by occupying them beforehand. The sitting was not, like that of the 5th of May, at once majestic and touching from a certain effusion of sentiments and ho]:>es. A numerous soldiery, a sullen silence, distinguished it from the former solemnity. Tlie de]:)uties of the commons had resoh'ed to kee]"> the most profound silence. The King addressed the Assembly, and betrayed his weakness by using expressions far too energetic for his character. He Avas made to launch reproaches, and to issue commands. He enjoined the separation into orders ; annulled the preceding resolutions (ctrreUs) of the tiers-4tat, promising to sanction the JUNE 1789 THE FRENCH BE VOL UTION, 3 7 abdication of the pecniiiary privileges when they should be relinquished by the holders. He maintained all the feudal rights, both useful and honorary, as inviolable property. He did not order the meeting of the three estates on matters of general interest, but held out hopes 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 clerg}^ judges of what specially concerned them, and concluded wdth sa^ang, that if he met with fresh obstacles, he would singly establish the wel- fare 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 King, who had feebly represented ]:)assions not his own, but against the aristocracy, whose instrument he w^as. 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 majorit}' of the ecclesi- astical deputies remained. The deputies of the commons, with- out moving, preserved profound silence. Mirabeau, who put liimself 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 were not always dangerous. . . . The ostentatious display of arms, the violation of the national temple ... to command you to be happy ! . . . Where are the enemies of the nation ? Is Cati- line at our doors ? I demand that, covering yourselves with your dignity, your legislative power, you adhere religiously to your oath : it forbids you to separate before 3^ou have framed the constitution." The ]\[arquis de Breze, grand-master of the ceremonies, then returned. " You have heard the orders of the King," said he, addressing Baill)'. Bailly replied, '• I am going to take those of the Assembly." Mirabeau stepped forward. '* Yes, sir," he exclaimed; "we have heard the intentions that have been suggested to the King ; but vou have neither voice, nor place, nor right to speak here. However, 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 awav." ^i. de Breze retired. Sieves then said. '"^Ve are to-dav Avhat Ave were A'esterdav ; let us deliberate." The Assembh' collected itself to deliberate on the maintenance of its preceding resolutions {arreUs). "The first of these resolu- tions," said Barnave, "has declared what you are; the second relates to the taxes, which you alone have a right to grant ; 3 8 HISTOR Y OF JUNE 1789 the third is the oath to do your duty. None of these measures needs the royal sanction. The King cannot prevent that to which liis assent is not required." At this moment workmen arrived to take away the benclies ; armed soldiers crossed the hall ; others surrounded the outside ; the life-guard advanced to the very door. The Assemljly continued its proceedings without interruption : the members kept their seats, and the votes were collected. They were unanimous for upholding the preceding resolutions. That was not all : amidst the royal town, surrounded by the servants r)f tlie Court, without the aid of that populace since so formidable, the Assembly was liable to be threatened. Mirabeau repaired to the tribune, and proposed to decree the inviolability of every deputy. The Assembly, opposing to force but one majestic will, immediately declared each of its members inviolable, and proclaimed every one who should offer them violence a traitor, infamous, and guilty of a capital crime. ]\leanwhile 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 incpiire the meaning of them, and learned that the people, assembling in crowds, were applauding Necker, because he had not attended the royal sitting. Alarm instantly took the place of 303^ ; the King and Queen sent for Necker, and those august personages were obliged to entreat him to retain his portfolio. The minister complied, and transferred to the ( 'Ourt a part of that popularity which he had acquired by absenting himself from that fatal sitting. Thus was effected the first revolution. The tiers-etat had recovered the legislative power, and its adversaries had lost it by attempting to keep it entirely to themselves. In a few days this legislative revolution was completely consummated. Recourse was still had to ])etty annoyances, such as interrupt- ing the internal communications in the halls of the vStates ; but they were unsuccessful. On the 24th the majority of the clergy proceeded to the Assembly, and demanded the verifica- tion in common, in order to delil)erate afterwards on the pro- posals made by the King in the sitting oL" the 23rd of June. Tlie minority of the clergy continued to deliberate in its own chaml^er. Juigne. Archbisho]) t)f Paris, a virtuous prelate and a benefactor of the people, but a stickler for privileges, was JUNE 1789 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 39 pursued, and forced to promise to join the Assembly. He accordingly repaired to the National Assembly, accompanied by the Aixlibisliop of Bordeaux, a popular prelate, who was afterwards minister. The nobility was in a state of the o-reatest aoitation. Its ordinary instigators inflamed its jmssions ; d'Espremenil pro- posed to prosecute the ticrs-dtat, and to direct proceedings to be instituted against it by the attorney-general. The minority ])roposed the reunion. This motion was rejected amidst tumult. The Due d'Orleans supported the motion, after ha\ing on the preceding da}^ given a i^jromise to the contrary to the Polignacs. i^'orty-se\'en mendoers liaving determined to join tlie General Assembly, in s])ite of the decision of the majority, repaired to it in a body, and T*vere received with demonstrations of public joy. JJut notwithstanding tlie rejoicing caused by their presence, their looks were sad. AVe yield to our conscience," said Clermont-Tomierre ; "but it is with pain tliat we separate ourselves from our colleagues. We have come to concur in the public regeneratir)n ; each of us will let you know the degree of acti\ity ^vhich his mission allows him." Every day broup'ht fresh accessions, and the Assembly saw the number of its members increase. Addresses poured in from all parts, expressing th^^ good wishes and the approbation of the towns and provinces. Alounier prompted those of Dauphine ; l^aris sent one; and even the l\T,lais Eoyal de- spatched a deputation, which the Assembly, as yet encompassed with dangers, received, tliat it iniglit not alienate the multitude. At that time it did not foresee the excesses of the populace ; it had need, on tlie contrar}^ to ])resume its energy, and to hope for its support : many, however, doubted the courage of tlie people, which was as yet but a pleasing dream. Thus the plaudits of the tribunes, frequently anno^dng to the Assembly, had nevertheless supported it. and the Assembly durst not prevent them. Bailly would have com]-)lained, but his voice and his motion were drowned by thundering applause. The majority of the nobility continued its sittings amidst tumult and tlie most violent animosities. Terror seized those who directed it. and the signal for reunion was made by those very ])ersons who had ]n*e^dously preached resistance. But its passions, already tno much excited, were not easily guided. The King was obliged tn write a letter ; the Court, the grandees, were humbled to entreaties. •• The junction will be transient." it was said to the most f »bstinate ; •• troops are approaching; give way to save the King." Consent was extorted amidst uproar, and the majority of the nobility, accompanied by the 40 HISTORY OF JUNE1789 minority of the clergy, proceeded on the 27th of June to the General Assembly. The Due de Luxembourg, speaking in the name of all, said that they were come to pay a mark of resj^ect to the King, and to give a proof of patriotism to the nation. "The family is complete." replied Bailly. Sup^^osing that the assemblage was entire, and that the cpiestion was not to verify but to deliberate in common, he added, "We 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 appear- ance of having done what necessity imperatively recpiired. The new-comers always entered after the opening of the sittings, all in a br»d3^. so as to give themselves the look of an order. They affected to stand behind tlie president, or at least not to appear to sit. Bailly, with great moderation and firmness, at length overcame all resistance, and prevailed on them to be seated. Attempts were also made to displace him from the presidency, not by main force, but sometimes by secret negotia- tion, at others by stratagem. Baill}^ 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 of the kingdom and the Church. It was too evident that the legislative revolution was accom- plished. Though the subject of the first dispute was solety the mode of verification, 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 23rd of June — it was certain that the voting by individuals had become ine^dtable ; all remonstrance there- fore was useless and impolitic. The Cardinal de la Rochefou- cauld nevertheless protested in the name of the minority, and declared that he had joined solely to deliberate on general subjects, still retaining the right to form an order. The Arch- bishop of A^ienne replied with warmth that the minority had not had the power t<> 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, obser\T.ng that it was strange any one should protest in the Assembly against the Assembly. " You must," said he, " either recognize its sovereignty or retire." Tile cjucstinn of iiuperative instructions was next brought forward. Most oi' tlie instrnctions ex]:>ressed the wishes of the electors res]iecting tlie ref(jrms to be effected, and rendered tliesc wishes obligatory on the deputies. Before they stirred, it was necessary to ascertain to what point they could go : this JUNE 1789 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 41 question, therefore, could not but be the first. It was taken up and resumed several times. Some ^Yere for returning to their constituents ; others were of opinion that they could not receive from the constituents anv other mission than that of votmg for them after the subjects should have been discussed by the representatives of the w^hole nation, but they were not of opinion that deputies could receive instructions ready made beforehand. If we assume, in fact, that we have no power to make laws but in a general council, either because we meet wdth more intelligence the higher we rise, or because w^e cannot come to any decision but when all the parts of the nation have reciprocally understood one another, tlien indeed it is true that the deputies ought to be free and unshackled by obligatory instructions. Mirabeau, sharpening reason by irony, observed "that those who considered the instructions as im- perative had done wrong to come ; they had but to leave in- structions on their benches, and those papers would fill the seats as well as they.'' Sieyes, with his usual sagacity, fore- seeing that notwithstanding the perfectly just decision of the Assembly, a great number of members would fall 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 Avas the best judge of the validity of the oath which he had taken. "Those," said he, "who deem themselves bound by their instructions shall be considered as absent, just the same as those wdio refused to verify their powders in general assembly." This judicious opinion was adopted. The Assembly, by having recourse to constraint, would have furnished the opposers with pretexts ; wdiereas, by leaving them free, it was sure to bring them over to its own way of thinldng ; for thenceforth its victory w^as certain. The object of the new convocation was the reform of the State, that is, the establishment of a constitution, which France as yet had not, whatever may be said to the contrary. If any kind of relations between the governed and the gov(n'innent are to be so called, then indeed France possessed a constitu- tion ; a king had commanded and subjects obeyed ; ministers had arbitrarily imprisoned ; contractors had wrung tlu^ last dinicr from the people ; parliaments had sentenced unfortu- nate wretches to the wdieel. The most barbarous nations have such kinds of constitutions. There had been States-general * * Philippe le Rel was the first French monarch \\\\o convoked tlie States- general, in 1303. Jean le Bon, in 1355, also called to,i:,'ether the National Assem- blies, or "les Champs de j\Iars;" and these assemblies have since that period 4 2 EISTOR Y OF June 1789 ill France, but without precise powers, without fixed times for meetiiiP' ao-ain, and alwa\'s without results. There had been a royal authority, alternately null or absolute. There had been sovereign tribunals or courts, which frequently combined the legislativL' with the judicial power. But there was no law to ensure the responsibility of tlie 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.* The want of a constitution was acknowledged and generally felt ; all the instructions had energetically expressed it, and entered into a formal explanation of the fundamental prin- ciples of that constitution. They had unanimously j^rescribed the monarchical government, hereditary succession from male to male, the exclusive attribution of the executive power to the King, the responsibility of ail agents, the concurrence of the nation and the King in making the laws, the voting of the taxes, and individual lilDerty. But tliey were divided on the creation of one or two legislative chambers, on the perma- nence, the periods for the meeting, and the dissolution of the legislative body ; on the political existence of the clergy and the parliaments ; on the extent of the liberty of the press. All these questions, either solved or proposed in the instruc- tions, plainl}^ show to what a degree the public 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. t But the founding of an entire constitution amid the rubbish of an ancient legislation in spite of all opposition and the wild flights of many minds, was a great and difficult work. Besides the disagreements which diversity of interests could not fail to produce, the natural divergence of opinions was also to be dreaded. An entire legislation to be given to a great people, excites their minds so powerfully, in- spires them with plans so vast and hopes so chimerical, that measures either vague or exaggerated, and frequently hostile, are naturally to be expected from them. In order to give regularity to the proceedings a committee was a]:)pointed to measure their extent, and to arrano'e their distribution. This committee was com])osed of the most moderate members of the Assembly. 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. always retained tlio title of States-i:,^cnera]. 'Y\\q cXqx^y liad as their president the Archbishop of RlK-ims ; Gauthier de lirieniie was chosen by the nobles ; and Marcel, the Mayor of I'nris, was at the head of the titrs-etat. * See Appendix F. t Sec Ap])cndix G. JUXE 1789 THE FUEXCII REVOLUTION. 43 This difficulty of giving a constitution was not the only one that the Assembly liad to surmount. Between an ill-disposed government and a starving po]">ulace Avhich required speedy relief it was difficult for it to a\'oid interfering in the adminis- tration. Distrusting the supreme authority, and urged to assist the people, it could not help, even without ambition, encroaching by degrees on the executive power. The clerg}^ had already set it the example by making to the ticr.^-clat the insidious proposal to direct its immediate attention to the subject of the ]3ublic sul^sistence. The Assembly, as soon as it was formed. a]ipointed a committee of subsistence, ap])lied to the ministry for information on the subject, proposed to favour the circulation of provisions frr)m province t<> pro- vince, tit conve}' tliem officially to the places where they were needed, and to defray the expense by loans and charitable contributions. The ministry commxniicated the efficacious measures ^s'hich it had taken, and whicli Louis XA'L. a careful administrator, had favoured to the utmost of his power. Lally- Tollendal 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 together. It was requisite to make laws, though the legislative forms were not fixed ; to superintend the administration witliout encroaching on the executive authority ; and to provide against so many difficulties, in spite of the ill- Avill 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 A^ersailles, and a person may tra^^rse it several times in one day. All the disturbances in Paris were therefore immediately known at A^ersailles, both to the Court and to the Assembly. Paris then exhibited a new and extraordinary spectacle. The electors, assembled in sixty districts, refused to separate after the elections, and thev remained assembled either to o'ive instructions to tlieir deputies, or from that fondness for agita- tion which is alwavs to be found in tlie human heart, and which bursts forth with the greater vioh^nce the longer it has been repressed. Tliey had fared just tlie same as the National Assemblv : being shut out of their ])lace of meeting, they had re]mired to another ; they had finally obtained admittance into the PTotel de Ville, and there they continued to assemble and to correspond with their deputies. There were yet no 44 IIISTOB Y OF June 1789 public prints that gave an account of the sittings of the National Assembly ; people, therefore, felt it necessary to meet for the pur]X)se 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 Due d'Orleans, was the rendezvous of foreigners, of debauchees, of loungers, and above all, of the most vehement agitators. The boldest liarangnes 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 always unpunished — fr>r tliere the mob reigned as sovereign. Here men, supposed to be the tools of the Due d'Orleans, displayed the greatest violence. The wealth of that prince, his well-knoAvn prodigality, the enormous sums which he borrowed, his residence on the spot, liis ambition, thougli vague, all served to point accusation against him.* History, without mentionino' anv 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 suffering multitude resorted to agitation for the purpose of bettering its condition, there were instigators who sometimes excited that multitude, 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 monev 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 w^ere detached by turns to do duty at A^ersailles. Besides the barbarity of the new discipline, these troops had reason to complain alsr) of that of their new colonel. At the pillage of Reveillon's house they had certainly shown some animosity against the po]nilace ; but they had sub- sequently been sorry for it, and mingling daily with the mob, they had 3delded to its seductions. Moreover, both pri^'ates and * "At this pei'iod, a report, wliicli liad loncc been civculated, assumed a semblance of truth. The Due d'Orleans liad been accused of bein^j the head of a party, and the ne^vspapers of tlie day employed his name in the hints which they daily set forth tliat Ki-ance should follow the example of England. The Due d'Orleans was fixed npon, because, in tlic lCn_t;lish Revolution, the direct line of the royal family had been expelled in favour of the Prince of Orano-e. The tliinc,^ was so often repeated, that the Duo d'Orleans began at last to believe tliat he mi;j,ht place himself at the head of a party, and become the leader of ;i faction, without the qnaliiiration for such an ollico.'" — Miinoir^ of the Duchcfmc (VA braiUcs. JULY 1789 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 45 subalterns were aware tliat the door to promotion was closed a^'amst them : thev were mortified to see tlieir yoiinsf officers do scarcely any duty, showing themselves only on i^arade-days, and alter reviews not even accompanving the regiment to the barracks. Here, as elsewhere, there had been a tkis-efat which had to do all the work without receiving any share of the profit. Symptoms of insubordination manifested themselves, and some of the privates Avere confined in the Abbaye ! * The men assembled at the Palais Royal, shouting "To the Abbaye!" The mob instantly ran tliither. The doors were broken o])en, and the soldiers brought out, and carried away in triumph. Whilst the populace guarded them at the Palais Royal, a letter was written to the Assembly, demanding their liberation. Placed between the people on the one hand, and the government on tlie other, wiiicli was suspected, since it was about to act in its own behalf, the Assembly could not help interfering and committing an encroachment l:)y meddling 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 t(.> implore ]iis clemency, as an infallible mode of restoring peace and concord. The King-, touched by its moderation, promised his clemency when order should be re-established. The French guards were immediately sent back to prison, from which they were as immediately released by a pardon from the King. So far all was well ; but tlie nobility, in joining the other two orders, had yielded with regret, and only upon a promise tliat its union with them should be of short duration. It still con- tinued to assemble e\'ery day, and protested against the pro- ceedings of the National Assembly. Its meetings gradiuilly became less numerous: on the 3rd of July 138 members attended ; on the lOth. 93 ; and on the i ith, but 80. The most * "The regiment of the French .f,aiards, consistin,f; of 3600 meu in the lii,i,diest state of discipline and equifnnent, had ior some time given aUirming sj'mptoms of disaffection. Their colonel had ordered them, in consequence, to be confined to their barracks, when three hundred of tliem broke ont of their bounds, and repaired instantly to the Palais Royal. They were received \\\t\i enthusiasm, and liberally ]ilied with money by the Orleans party ; and to such a height did the transport rise, that, how incredible soever it may appear, it is proved l)y the testimony of numerous witnesses above all suspicion, that women of family and distinction openly embraced the soldiers as they walked in the gardens with their mistresses. After these disorders had continued for some time, eleven of the ringleaders in the mutiny were seized and thrown into the prison of the Abbey ; a mob of 6000 men immediately assembled, forced 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," — Aliaoiis French Jlcrolution. 46 HISTOB.Y OF july 1789 obstinate, however, had persisted, and on the nth they deter- mined upon a protest, which succeeding events prevented 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 23rd, it had approved the general union of the three estates, in order to impede the march of the Assembly by means of the nobk-s, and in the hope of soon dissolving it by main force. Necker had been retained merely to mask by his presence the secret plots that were' hatching. Excepting a certain agitation and a degree of reser\e' that was employed towards him, lie had nn reason to suspect any grand machinatioi:. The I\iijg 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-Tollendal, and Clermont-Tonnerre, he meditated the establishment of the English constitution. Tlie Court was meanwhile carrying on its secret preparations. The noble deputies having manifested an intention to withdraw, they were detained by hints thrown out to them of an event that would speedily happen. Troops were approaching. Old Marshal de Broglie had been appointed to the chief command of them, and the Baron de Besenval to the particular command of those which were around Paris. Fifteen reeiments, mostly foreie'n, were in the environs of the capital. The exultation of the courtiers re- vealed the danger ; and these conspirators, too promj^t to threaten, thus com]:)romized their projects. 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 accpiainted, but which certainly tended to employ violence, 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 consefpience. 'Jlie aristo- cracy was conspiring ; the po]:>ular party could conspire too. The means emploj^ed were ecjual. setting aside the justice of the cause, and justice was not on their side who would fain have broken u]i the union of the three orders, dissolved the national representation, and wreaked their vengeance upon its most courageous deputies. Mirabeau was of o]:)inion 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 JULY 1789 THE FRENCH HE VOL UTION, 4 7 it openly. If it hesitated 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 constitu- tion was suspended, and he proposed to solicit the King to remove the troo])s. In Ids language he combined respect for the monarch with the sexerest reproaches of the government. lie stated that fresh troops were daily advancing; that all the communications were intercepted ; that the bridges, the prome- nades, wei'e converted into militarv ]>nsts ; that circumstances pul)lic and secret, hasty orders and C(»iinter-orders. met all c^yes, and were the heralds of war : to these facts lie added l)itter reproaches. "]\lore tlireatening soldiers," said he, "are shown to the naticm tlian hostile invaders would perhaps find to encounter, and a tliousand times more, at least, than could be brought together to succour friends, the martyrs of their fidelity, and abo\'e all, to ]U'eserAe that alliance of the Dutch, so valuable, so dearlv bouHit, and so disoTacefuUv lost." His speech was received with apj)laiise ; and the address which he prr)]3osed was ado2:)ted, with the exception of one article, in which, while invoking the remr)val of the troops, he demanded that they should be re])laced hj the ci\ic guard : this article was sup])ressed. The address was ^'oted, with only four dissentient voices. In this celebrated address, which, as it is said, was not written Idv j\[irabeau, but all the ideas of which he had communicated t(» one of his friends, he fore- boded almost every tiling that was about to happen — the explosion of the multitude, and tlie defection of the troops from their intermino-linp- with the citizens. Not less acute than bold, he ventured to assure the King that liis promises sliould not be vain. 'You have summoned us," said he, "to regenerate the kingdom ; your wishes shall be accomplished, in spite of snares, difficulties, dangers, &c." The address ^\'as presented by a deputation of twenty-four members. The King, having resolved not to enter into expla- nations, replied that the assemblage of troo])S was for no other purpose than the maintenance of the public trancfuillity, and the protection due to the Assembly ; that, morerwer, if the latter still felt any ap]:>rehensions, he would remove it to Soissons or Noyon, and that he would himself repair to Compiegne. The Assembly could not be satisfied with such an answer, and especially with the proposal to withdraw from the capital, and to place itself between two camps. The Comte de Crillon proposed that they should trust to the word of a King who 4 8 BIS TOE Y OF july 1789 was an honest man. "'The word of a King who is an honest man," replied Mirabean, "is a bad security for the conduct of his ministers ; our bUnd confidence in our kings has undone us : we demanded the withdrawal of the troops, and not permis- sion to flee before them. We must insist again and again." This opinion was not supported. Mirabeau insisted so strongly upon open means, that he may be forgiven any secret machinations, if it be true that he actually resorted to them. The llth of July had now arrived. Necker had several times told the King that if his services were not accept- able, he would retire with submission. "I take you at your word," replied the King. On the I ith, in the evening, Necker received a note in which Louis XVI. required him to keep his word, and urged him to set out, adding that he had sufficient confidence in him to hope that he would keep his departure a profound secret. Necker, justifying the honour- able confidence of the monarch, set out without apprizing his friends or even his daughter, and in a few hours was at a considerable distance from Versailles. The following day, July 1 2th, was Sunday. A report was now circulated at Paris that Necker had been dismissed, as well as Messrs. de Montmorin, de la Luzerne, de Puisegur, and de 8t. Priest. As their successors, Messrs. de Breteuil, de la Vauguyon, de Broglie. Foulon. and Damecourt were mentioned, almost all known for their o])position to the popular cause, the alarm spread throughout Paris. The people hurried to the Palais Poyal. A young man, since celelDrated for his re- publican enthusiasm, endowed with a tender heart but an im]ietiious 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 crowd to follow his example. The trees were instantly strip]:)ed. The people then repaired to a museum coutaining busts in w^ax. They seized those of Necker and the Due d'Orleans. who was threatened, it was said, with exile, and then spread them- selves in the various ([uarters of Paris. This mob was passing through the Rue St. ITonore, when it was met, near the Place Vendome, by a detachment of tlie Royal German regiment, which rushed u]ion it and wounded several persous, among whom was a soldier of the French guards. The latter, pre- disposed in favour of the people and against the Royal Germans, with whom they had a few days before had a cjuarrel, were in barracks near the Place Louis XV. They fired upon the Royal Germaus, The Prince de Lambesc, who JULY 1789 TEE FRENCH BEVOLUTIOK 49 commanded, this regiment, instantly fell back upon the garden of the Tuilerie^r^, 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 I\Jars and the Place Louis XV. Terror, before unbounded, was now changed into fury. People ran into the city, shouting '• Tu arms ! " The mob hurried to the Hotel de Ville to demand w^eapons. The electors composing the General Assembly were there met. They delivered out the arms, which they could no longer refuse, and which, at the instant when they determined to grant them, the people had already begun to seize. These electors composed at the moment the only established authority. Deprived of all active powers, they assumed such as the occasion required, and ordered the districts to be convoked. All the citizens in- stantly assembled, to consult upon the means of protecting themselves at one and the same time against the rabble and the attack of the royal troops. During the night the populace, always ready for excitement, forced and burned the barriers, dispersed the gatekeepers, and afforded free access by all the avenues to the city. The gunsmiths' shops were plundered. Those brigands who had already signalized themselves at Reveillon's, and who on all occasions are seen springing up, as it were, out of the gi^ound, again appeared armed with pikes and bludgeons, spreading consternation. These events took place on Sunday the 12th of July, and in the night between Sunday and Monday the 13th. On Monday morning the electors, still assembled at the Hotel de Ville, thouglit it incumbent on them to give a more legal form to their authority : they accordingly summoned the attendance of the provost of the trades {i>rcvut des niarchands), the ordinary administrator of the city. The latter refused to comply unless upon a formal requisition. A requisition was in conse- quence issued ; a certain number of electors were appointed as his assistants, and thus was composed a municipality in- vested with all necessary powers. This municipality sent for the lieutenant of police, and drew up in a few hours a plan for arming the ci^dc 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 punished. Such was the primary origin of the national guards. This plan was adopted VOL. I. 4 ^ 5 o HISTCm Y OF july 1789 by all the districts, which hastened to carry it into execution. In the course of the same morning the people had plundered the house of St. Lazare in 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 pikes, were seen inundating the city. The po"|3ulace now showed itself hostile to pillage ; with its usual fickleness, it affected to be disinterested ; it spared money, took nothing but arms, and itself a]iprehended the brigands. The French guards and the night-watch had offered their services, and tliey 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 with an unknown gunsmith. The thing appeared difficult, considering the short time that had elapsed. Meanwliile evening drew on ; the chests of arms announced by Flesselles were carried to the Hotel de Mile ; they were 0]:)ened, and found to be full of old linen. At this sisfht the multitude was fired with indip'nation against the provost, who declared that he had been deceived. To appease them, he directed them to go to the Carthusians, with the assurance that arms would there be found. The astonished Carthusians admitted the furious mob, conducted them into their retreat, and finally convinced them that they possessed nothing of the sort mentioned by the provost. The rabble, more exasperated than ever, returned with shouts of "Treachery!" To satisfy them, orders were issued for the manufacture of fifty thousand pikes. Vessels witli gunpowder were descending tlie Seine, on their way to Ver- sailles ; these were stop])ed, and an elector distributed the powder amidst the most imminent danger. A tremendous confusion now prevailed at the Hotel de Ville, the seat of the authorities, the headcjuarters of the militia, and the centre of all operations. It was necessary to provide at once for the safety of the town, which was threatened bv the Court, and its internal safety, endane'ered by the brigands ; it was requisite every moment to allay the suspicions of the people, who believed that they were betrayed, and to save from tlieir fury those who excited tlieir distrust. About this place were to be seen carriages sto])ped, waggons intercepted, travellers 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 Moreau JULY 1789 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 5 i de St. Mery, 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. Meanwliile the citizens, wlio had gone to their homes, held themselves in readiness for every kind of attack : they had unpa\'ed the streets, opened the trencliL'S, and taken all possible measures for resisting a siege. During these disturbances in the capital, consternation pervaded the Assembly. It had met on the morning of the 13th, alarmed by the events tliat were in pre]:)aration, and still ignorant of what was passing in Paris. Mounier, the deputy, first rose and censured the dismissal of the ministers. Lally-Tollendal, wlio took his place in the tribune, pronounced a splendid panegyric on Necker ; and both joined in i^roposing an address for tlie purpose of soliciting the King to recall his disgraced ministers. M. de Virieu, a deputy of the nobility, even proposed to confirm the resolutions of the 17th of June by a new oath. IM. de Clermont-Tonnerre opposed this motion as useless ; and referring to the engagements by which the Assemblv bad already bound itself, he exclaimed, " The constitution shall be, or we will i^erish ! " The discus- sion had lasted some time, when news arrived of the dis- turbances in Paris during the morning of the 13th, and the calamities with which the capital was threatened, between undisciplined Frenchmen, who, according to the expression of the Due de la llochefoucauld, were not in any one's hand, and disciplined foreigners, wdio were in the hand of des]X)tism. It was instantly resohed to send a deputation to the King, for the ]3urpose of submitting to him a ]iicture of the desola- tion of the capital, and beseecliing liim to order the remo\'al of the troops, and the establishment of the civic guards. The King returned a cold, dry answer, which was far from ac- cording with liis disposition, and alleged that Paris was not capable of guarding itself. The 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 civic guards ; declared the ministers and all the agents of power responsible ; threw upon the counsellors of the King, of 'whatever ranlc. tliey might be, the responsi- bility of the calamities that were impending ; consolidated the public debt ; forbade the mention of the infamous term bank- ruptcy ; persisted in its preceding resolutions, and directed the president to express 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 5 2 HIS TOR Y OF july 1789 members from all personal violence, declared itself 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 agita- tion and aharm. Fearful tidings were every moment brought and contradicted. All the plans of the Court were not known ; but it was ascertained that several deputies were threatened, and that \dolence was to be employed 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 : ^vith imposing calmness it resumed the consideration of the constitution, and discussed with great pro- priety 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, and Bergasse. The morning passed away. Intelligence 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 Duchesse de Polignac, and the Queen were seen walking in the orangery, flattering the officers and the soldiers, and causing refreshments to be distributed among them. It appears that a grand plan had been devised for the night between the 14th and 1 5th : that Paris was to be attacked on seven points, the Palais Royal surrounded, the Assembly dissolved, the declaration of the 23rd of June submitted to the parliament, and finally, tliat tlie wants of the excliecjuer were to be supplied by bankruptcy and ]xaper-money. So much is certain, tliat the commandants of tlie troops had received orders to advance in the night between the I4tli 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, with tlie exception of some indis- pensable articles. In the afternoon the terrors of tlie Assembly redoubled. The Prince de Lambesc was seen passing at full gallop. The report of cannon was lieard, and people clapped their ears to the ground to catch the slightest sounds. Mirabeau then proposed to suspend the discussions, and to send another deputation to the King. The de]nitation set out immediately to make fresh remonstrances. At this moment two members of the Assembly, who had come from Paris in the utmost haste, declared that the people there were slaughtering one another; one of them affirmed that he had seen the headless body of a JULY 1789 THE FliENCH RE VOL UTION. 5 3 man dressed in black. It began to grow dark. The arrival of two electors was announced. The most profomid silence per- vaded the hall ; tlu' sound of their footfalls was heard amid the darkness ; and the Assemljlv learned from their lips that the Bastille was attacked, that cannon had been fired, that blood had been spilt, and that tlio cit\' was threatened with the direst calamities. A fresh de])utation was instantly despatched before the return of the preceding one. Just as it was about to depart, the first arrived, and brought the answer of the King. It re- ported that the King had ordered the troops encamped in the Champ de Mars, to be ^vithdrawn, and having been apprised of the formation of the civic guard, had appointed 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 me of the calamities of Paris. It is not possible tliat the orders given to the troops can be the cause of them." Nothino- had vet been obtained but the re- moval of the armv. It was now two in the morning. The answer returned to the city of Paris was, "that two deputations had been sent, and that the applications should be renewed that day, until they had obtained the success which might justly be expected from tlie heart of the King when extraneous impres- sions did not counteract its impulses." The sitting was sus- pended for a short time, and in the evening intelligence of the events of the 14th arrived. The populace ever since the night of the I3tli had thronged about the Pastille. Some musket-shots had been fired, and it appears that ringleaders had repeatedly shouted " To the Bastille ! " Tlie 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 that direction. A cry for arms was still kept up. A report was spread that the Hotel des Invalides contained a considerable cpiantity. T]ie mob instantly rejiaiied thither. ]\I. de Sombreuil, the governor, ordered admittance to be denied, saying, that he must send for orders to AV-^rsailles. The populace, turning a deaf ear to all expostulation, rushed into the hotel, and carried off the camion and a great quantity of muskets. A large concourse of people were already besieging the Bastille. They declared that the guns of the fortress were pointed at the city, 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 5 4 HIS TOR Y OF july 1789 garrison not to fire unless it should be attacked. During this parley, the people, not seeing tlie deputy return, began to be exasperated, and the latter was obliged to show himself, in order to appease the multitude. At length lie retired about eleven o'clock in the forenoon. Half-an-hour had scarcely elapsed before a fresh mob arri\'ed with arms, shouting " Let us storm the Bastille ! " The garrison summoned the assailants to retire, but they persisted. Two men. with great intrepidity, mounted the roof of the p'uard-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 moment a discharge of musketry brought it to a stand ; it fell back, but firing at the same time. The confiict lasted for a few moments. The electors, assembled at the Hotel de Mile, hearing the report of musketry, 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 l^iris militia, on the ground that all the military force in the capital ought to be at the disposal of the city authorities. These two deputations arrived in succession. Amidst this 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 were fired from some unknown cpiarter. 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 there- upon came up with cannon, and commenced an attack in form.* During these proceedings a note addressed by the Baron de Besenval to de Launay, governor of tlie Bastille, was inter- cepted and read at the Hotel de Yille. Besenval exhorted de Launay to resist, assuring him that be should soon receive succour. It was, in fact, in the evening of that da}^ that the plans of the Court were to be carried into execution. Mean- while de Launay, seeing the desperation of the mob, and no succours having arrived, seized a lighted match with the inten- tion of blowing up the fortress. The garrison opposed it, and obliged liim to surrender : the signals were made, and a bridge lowered. The besiegers approached, j^romising iiot 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 * See Appendix H. JULY 1789 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTIOK 5 5 this moment a female, beautiful, young, and trembling, came forward ; she was supposed to be the daughter of de Launay ; 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, conducted her to a place of safety, 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 poured into the hall : a French guardsman, covered with wounds and crowned with laurels, was borne in triumph 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 de Launay, the governor, whose head had just been stricken off. Two French guards, Elie and Ilullin, had defended him to the last extremit}^. Other victims had fallen, though heroically defended against the ferocity of the mob. A strong animosity began to be expressed against Flesselles, the provost of the trades ; he was accused of treason. It was alleged that he had deceived the people by repeatedly promising them arms which he never meant to give them. The hall was soon full of men heated with a long combat, and backed by a hundred thousand more outside the hotel, all eager to enter in their tm^n. The electors strove to justify Flesselles to the mob. Flis assurance began to forsake him, and already quite pale, he exclaimed, " Since I am suspected I will retire." 'No," was the reply made to him; "come to the Palais E-oyal to be tried." Accordingly he descended to repair thither. The agitated multitude sur- rounded and pressed upon him. On reaching the Quai Pelletier, he was struck to the ground by a pistol-shot, fired by a person unknown. It is asserted that a letter had been found upon de Launay, 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 terror speedily followed the intoxication of victory. The con- querors of the Bastille, astonished at their audacity, and expecting to find the hand of authority formidable on the following day, durst not make themselves known. Every moment rumours were spread that the troops were approaching to storm Paris. Moreau de St. Mery, the same person who on the preceding day had threatened the brigands to blow up the Hotel de A^ille, remained unshaken, and issued upwards of three thousand orders in a few hours. As soon as the capture of the Bastille was known at the Hotel de Ville, the electors had sent 5 6 IT IS TOR ] ^ OF july i 7 8 9 the intelligence to the Assembly, which received it about midnight. The sitting was suspended, and the tidings spread with rapidity. The Court, up to this moment conceiving no notion of the energy of the people, laughing at the efforts of a blind rabble to take a fortress which tlie great Conde had besieged in vain, was calmly cracking its jokes on the subject. The King ne\-ertheless began to be uneasy ; his last answers had betrayed his grief. He had retired to bed. The Due de Liancourt, so well known for his generous sentiments, was the particular friend of Louis X\^I., and by virtue of his office of grand-master of the wardrobe, he always had access to the Xing. On learning the occuri'ences in Paris, he repaired in all haste to the apartment of the monarch, awoke him in spite of the ministers, and informed him of what had happened. "What rebellion!" exclaimed the Prince. ''Sire," replied the Duke, ''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 King, it determined to send a last deputation, to try to move him. and to obtain from him what he had not yet been ^^revailed upon to grant. This deputation was the lifth since the commencement of those calamitous events. It was composed of twenty-four members, and was just setting out when jMirabeau, more vehement than ever, stopped it. '' Tell the King," cried he, " be sure to tell him, that the foreign hordes by which we are invested were yesterday in^dted by the princes, the princesses, the he-favourites, and the she-favourites, and received their caresses, and their exhortations, and their presents. Tell him that the livelong night these foreign satellites, gorged wdth money and with wine, have been pre- dicting in their impious songs the subjugation of France, and that tlieir brutal wislies invoked the destruction of the National Assembly. Tell him that in his very ])alace 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 tliat that Henry whose memory the whole world blesses, that one of his ancestors whom he meant to take for his pattern, allowed pro\dsions to be conveyed into rebellious l^aris, which he was besieging in person ; whereas his ferocious counsellors are turning back the flour that commerce is sending to faithful and famished Paris." The deputation was just about to i^roceed to the King, when neAvs arrived that he was coming, of his own accord, without JULY 1789 TEE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 57 guards and without escort. The hall rang with applause. "Wait/' cried Mirabeau gra^•ely. '-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 lesson for kings."' Louis XA'I. then entered, accompanied by his two brothers. His simple and touching address excited the warmest enthu- siasm. He spoke cheeringly to the Assembly, which he called for the first time the National Assembly. He mildly complained of the suspicions that had been concei^'ed of him. "You have been afraid of me." said he; "now. for my part, I put my trust in you." These words were hailed with applause. The deputies immediately rose, surrounded the monarch, and escorted him back on foot to the palace. 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 that moment with the Court in a balcony, contem- plated from a distance this affecting scene. Her son was in her arms ; her daughter, standing beside her, was sportively playing with her brother's hair. The princess, deeply moved, appeared to be delighted by this expression of the love of the French. Ah ! liow often has a reciprocal emotion reconciled hearts during these fatal dissensions ! For a moment all seemed to be forgotten; but on tlie morrow, nay, perliaps the very same day, the C^ourt had resumed its pride, the people their distrust, and implacable hatred recommenced its course. Peace was made with the Assembly ; but it had yet to be made with Paris. The Assembly first sent a deputation to the Hotel de Ville to convey the tidings of the happy recon- ciliation brought about with the King. Bailly, Lafayette, and Lally-Tollendal were among its members. Their presence dif- fused the liveliest joy. The speech of Lally excited such trans- port that he was carried in triumph to a window of tlie Hotel de Yille to be shown to the people. A wreath of flowers was ]ilaced on his head, and these honours were paid him facing the very spot where his father expired with a gag in his mouth. The death of the unfortunate Flesselles. the head of the muni- ci]mlity, and the refusal of the Due 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 acclamations 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 mavor. He would ha\'e taken it off, but the Archbishop of Paris held it where it was, in opposition to his 5 8 HIS TOR 1 " OF JULY 1789 wishes. The virtuous old man could not repress his tears, and he resigned himself to his new functions. A worthy repre- sentative of a great assembly, in presence of the majesty of a throne, he was less capable of withstanding tlie storms of a commonalty, where the multitude struggled tumultuonsly against its magistrates. With exemplar}^ self-denial, however, h(.^ prepared to undertake the difficult task of providing sub- sistence, and feeding a populace who re]:)aid him in the sequel with such base ingratitude. A commandant of the militia yet remained to be ap])ointed. There was in the hall a bust sent by enfranchised America to the city of Paris : Moreau de St. Mery pointed to it with his linger ; all eyes were directed towards it. It was the bust of the Marrpiis de Lafayette. A general cry proclaimed him commandant. A Tc Dciim was instantly voted, and the Assembly proceeded in a body to Notre-Dame. The new magistrates, the Archbishop of Paris, the electors, mingled with French guards and soldiers of the militia, walking arm-in-arm, repaired to the ancient cathedral, in a species of intoxication. By the way, the Foundlings threw themselves at the feet of Bailly. who 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 the church the ceremony was performed, and the congregation then dispersed in the city, where a delirious joy had succeeded the terrors of the preceding day. At this moment the people were flocking to see the den so long dreaded, to which there was now free access. They Adsited 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 dam]) prison, to the centre of which was fixed a ])onderous chain. The (Jouj't, as blind in its apprehensions as it had been in its confidence, felt such a dread of the "|)opulace, that it imagined every moment that a Parisian army was marching to A^ersailles. The Comte d'Artois, and the Polignac family, so dear to the Queen, quitted France at that time, and were the first emigrants. Bailly came to cheer the King, and persuaded him to return to Paris, wliicli he resolved to do. in spite of the resistance of the Queeii and the Court.* "" "The day of the King's entiy into Paris was the hrst of the emigration of the noblesse. The violent aristocratic party, iinding all their coercive measures overturned, nnd dreading the ell'ects of popular resentment, left the kingdom. The Comte d'Artois, the Prince de Condc, tlio Prince de Conti, I\larshal Broglie, and the whole family of the Polignaes, set olf in haste, and arrived in safety at Brussels — a fatal example of defection, which, being speedily followed by the JULY 1789 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 5 9 The King prepared to set out. Two hundred deputies were directed to accomjiauy him. The Queen took h'ave of him with profound grief. The b(»dyguard escorted liim to Sevres, where the}' stopped to await liis return. Bailly. at the head of the municipaUty, received him at the gates ()f Paris, and presented to him the kevs formerh' offered to Henrv IV. ''That p'ood Iving/' said Baillx^ to liim. "liad conquered his people; at present it is tin- people wlio have reconquered their King.'' The nation, legislating at A'ersailles. was armed at Paris. Louis X\ I., on enterino-. found himself surrounded bv a silent multitude arraved in military order. He arii\ed at the Hotel de A^ille, passing under an arch of swords crossed over liis head as a mark of honour. His address was simple and touching. The people, unable to contain tliemselves. at length burst fortli and lavished upon the King their accustomed applause. These acclamations somewhat soothed the heait of the Prince; never- theless he could not disguise a feeling of joy on perceiving the bodyguard stationed on the heights of Sevres; and at his return, the Queen, throwing herself into his arms, embraced him as tliough she had been afraid that she should never see him again. Louis XVI., in order to satisfy completely the public wish, ordered the dismissal of the new ministers, and the reinstate- ment of Necker. M. de Liancourt, the friend of the King, and his most useful adviser, was elected president by the Assembly. The noble deputies, who, though they attended the delibera- tions, still refused to take any part in them, at length yielded and gave their votes. Thus was consummated the amalgama- tion of the orders. From that moment the Revolution might be looked upon as accom])lished. The nation, possessed of the legislative power through the Assembly, and of the public force throuQ']! itself, could henceforward carry into effect whatever was beneficial to its interest. It was by refusing the equality of imposts that the government had rendered the States- general necessary ; it was by refusing a just division of autho- rit}^ among those States that it liad lost all influence over them ; finally, it was in attem])ting to recover that influence 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, inferior nobility, produced the most di.sn.strous couser|uences. But it was tlie same in all the subsequent changes of tlie ftevolution. The leaders of the royalist party, always the first to propose violent measures, were at the same time unable to support thein when furiously opposed. They diminished the sympathy of the world at their fall from so high a rank, by showing that they were unworthy of it. " — Alisons French llevolutlon. 6o HISTORY OF JULY1789 ^Yllere a new aiitliority had just been established. The same movement wliich liad impelk'd tlie electors to set themselves in action, urged all classes to do the same. The Assembly had been imitated by the Hotel de Allle, the Hotel de Ville by the districts, and the districts by all the corporations. Tailors, shoemakers, bakers, domestic servants, meeting at the Louvre, in the Place Louis XV., in the Champs Elysees, deliberated in form, notwithstanding the repeated ^prohibitions of the muni- cipality. Amidst these contrary movements, the Hotel de A'ille, opposed by the districts, and annoyed by the Palais lioyal, was encompassed with obstacles, and was scarcely ade- quate to the duties of its immense administration. It com- bined in itself alone the civil, judicial, and military authority. The headquarters of the militia were established there. The judges, at first uncertain respecting their powers, sent thither accused persons. It possessed even the legislative power, for it was charged to form a constitution for itself. For this pur- pose Bailly had demanded two commissioners for each dis- trict, who, 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 committees. One, called the com- mittee of research, superintended the police ; another, called the committee of subsistence, directed its attention to the supply of provisions — the most difficult and dangerous task of all. It was in the latter that Bailly was obliged himself to labour night and day. It was necessary to make continual purchases of corn, then to get it ground, and afterwards carry it to Paris through the famished country. The convoys were frequently stopped, and it required nmnerous detachments to prevent pillage by the way and in the markets. Though the State sold corn at a loss that the bakers might keep down the price of bread, the multitude was not satisfied : it was found expedient to reduce the price still more ; and the dearth of Paris was increased by this very diminution, because the country people flocked thither to su])pl3" themselves. Fears for the morrow caused all who could to lay in an abundant stock, and thus what was accumulated in some hands left nctthing for others. It is confidence that accelerates the operations of commerce, that produces an abundant sup]3ly of articles of consumption, and that renders their distribution equal and easy. But when confidence disa])pears, commercial activity ceases ; articles of consumption no longer arri\'ing in sufficient fpiantity to meet the wants, tliose wants become importunate, add confusion to dearth, and prevent the proper distribution of JULY 1789 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 6 1 the little that is left. The supply of subsistence was therefore the most arduous duty of all. Baillv and the committee were a prey to painful anxieties. The whole labour of the day scarcely sufficed for the wants of the dn,j, and they had to begin again on the morrow with the same per]:)lexities. 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 Revo- lution, a certain number 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 ]3ro- ceeding. These troops, collectivel3^ 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 tricoh)ured cockade, whose destinies 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 consecuti\'e years to maintain the public trancpiillity, and to enforce the execution of the laws which the Assembly daily enacted. Lafayette, the offspring of an ancient family which had remained uncontaminated 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 the Court, and of the pedantic discipline of our armies. As his (.»wn country offered nothing noble to be attempted, he decided in favour of the most generous enterprise of the age, and em- barked for America, the day alter that on wliich a re])ort reached Europe that it was subdued. He there fought by the side of Washington, and decided the enfranchisement of the New AVorld by the alliance uf France. Keturning to his own country with a European renown, welcomed at Court as a novelty, he showed himself there, simple and free as an American. When philosophy, which had been but a pastime for noble idlers, required sacrifices from them, Lafayette per- sisted almost alone in his opinions, demanded tlie States-general, contributed powerfully to the junction of the orders, and by way of recom]3ense was appointed commandant-general of the national guard. Lafayette had n()t the passions and the genius wdiich frequently lead to the abuse of power : with an ecpiable mind, a sound understanding, and a system of invariable dis- interestedness, he was peculiarly fitted for the part which cir- cumstances had allotted to liim — that of superintending the execution of the laws. Adored by his troops, though he had 6 2 HIS TOR Y OF july 1789 not captivated them by victory, ever calm and full of resources, amidst the ebullitions of the multitude he preserved order witli indefatigable vigilance. The parties which had found him incorruptible, depreciated his abilities because they could not attack his character. He formed, however, no false esti- mate of men and events, appreciated the Court and the party leaders at no more than their real value, and protected them at the peril of liis life without esteeming them ; struggled, frecpiently without hope, against the factions, but with the per- severance of a man who is determined never to forsake the public weal, even when lie deems it hopeless. Lafayette, notwithstanding liis indefatigable vigilance, was not always successful in his endeavours to check the popular fury. For let a force be ever so active, it cannot show itself everywhere against a populace that is everywhere in agitation, and looks upon every man as an enemy. Every moment the most absurd re]3orts were circulated and credited. Sometimes it was said that the soldiers of the French omards had been poisoned ; at otliers, tliat the flour had been wilfully adulterated, or that its arrival liad been ]:irevented ; and those who took the greatest pains to bring it to the ca]')ital were obliged to appear before an ignorant mob, who overwhelmed tliem with abuse or covered them with a]:)p]ause. according to the humour of the moment. A¥h ether it was. however, that men were paid for aggravating the distm'bances by instigating the rabble, or that they liad still more detestable motives, so much is certain, that they directed the fury of tlie people, who knew not either how to select or to seek long for their Adctims. Foulon and Berthier were pursued and a]"»prehended at a distance from Paris. This was done with e^^.dent design. Tliere was nothing spontaneous in tJu^ proceedings, except the fur}" of the mob by whom thev were murdered. Foulon, formerlv an intendant, a harsh and ra]oacious man, had committed horrible extortions, and had been one of the ministers ap])ointed to succeed Necker and his colleagues. He was a]iprehended at ^ ire}", though he had s]iread 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 <\at 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 Flotel de A'ille. At the same instant his son-in-law, Beithier de Sauvis^nv, was apprehended at rjompit^gne, by an order, as it was alleged, of the commune of Paris, which had never issued any such order. The commune instantly wrote directing that he should be released ; but this injunction was not executed. He was .;\ \}' »\ :. ,1'", :ii I,' '■ii ' ■ M ' '\W L.-.ii.i. ill L'll'Jj l-Lk-.I/Iiv Fvn-'hw.i-.l F'^- 51 Qey .■i'.'ui "lb95 JULY 1789 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 63 brought to Paris at the very moment that Fonlon was exposed at the Hotel cle Mile to the rage of the furious rabble. They were for putting him to cleatli. The remonstrance of Lafayette had pacified tliem for a moment, and tliey consented that Foulon should be tried ; but they insisted that sentence should be passed forthwith, that they might be gratified by its immediate execu- tion. Some electors had beerr chosen to act as judges ; but they had on various pretexts refused the terrible office. At length Bailly and Lafayette were designated for it ; and they were alreadv reduced t<.) the cruel extremity of devotins" them- selves to the rage of the populace, or sacrificing a victim. Lafayette, howe\ er, coirtinued to temporize with, great 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 coircluding words. "Look you," said a bystander, "how they play into each other's harrds." At this expression the crowd becam*^ agitated, and rushed upon Foulon. Lafayette made incredible efforts to save him from the ]nurderers. Again the unfortunate old man ^\■as dragged from him, and hanged to a lamp. His head was cut off, stuck on a pike, and paraded through Paris. At tliis moment Berthier arrived in a cabri(.»let. escorted by 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 Hotel de \'ille, where he uttered a few w^ords full of courage and indignation. Seized anew by the mob, he disengaged himself for a moment, snatched a weapon, made a desperate defence, and soon perislied like the unhappy Foulon. These murders had beeir conducted bv enemies either to Foulon or tlie public welfare ; for the apju'ehension of tlie victims was the result of contiivance. though the fury of the raljble at sight of them had lieerr s]iontaneous, like most of its movements. Lafayette, full of grief and indigrratiorr, resoh^ed to resign. Baill}^ and the munici]:>ality, alarmed at this intention, were anxious to di\ert hinr from it. It was then agreed that he should announce his resignation, to show his dissatisfaction witli the people, but that he should suffer himself to be persuaded to retain his command by the entreaties that would not fail to be addressed to him. The ]3eople arrd the militia did actually throng aroinid him and promised the utmost obedience in future. On this condition he resumed the command ; and subsequently he had the satisfaction of preventing many disturbairces by liis 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 6 4 HIS TOR Y OF july 1789 Polignacs, wliom he had left triumphant at Versailles, and whom lie encountered as fugitives at Basle, that first apprized him of the misfortunes of the throne, and the sudden return to favour tliat awaited him. He set out and traversed France, drawn 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 succour, and promised to demand his pardon from the Parisians. The King received him with embarrassment, the Assembly with enthusiasm ; and he resolved to proceed to Paris, where he, too, might ex]:»ect to have his day of triumph. Necker's intention was to solicit of the electors the ]:)ardon and liberation of the Baron de Besenval. In vain did Bailly, not less an enemy than himself to rigorous measures, but 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 excite- ment, would be revoked next day as illegal, because an ad- ministrative body could neither condemn nor pardon ; Necker persisted, and made a trial of his influence over the capital. He repaired to the Hotel de Ville on the 29th of July. His hopes were surpassed, and he could not help believing himself omnipotent on beholding the transports of the multitude. Deeply affected, his eyes filled with tears, he demanded a general amnesty, which was instantly granted by acclamation. The two Assemblies of the electors and representatives mani- fested equal enthusiasm : the electors decreed a general amnesty ; the representatives of the commune ordered the liberatioii of Besenval. Necker retired intoxicated, taking to himself the plaudits that were addressed to his dismissal from office. J3ut that very day he w^as destined to be undeceived. Mirabeau prepared for liim a cruel reverse. In the Assembly, in the districts, a general outcry was raised against the sensi- bility of the minister, very excusable, it was said, but mistaken. The district of the Oratoire, instigated, as we are assured, by Mirabeau, was tlie first to find fault. It was maintained on all sides that an administrative body could neither condemn nor absolve. The illegal measure of the Hotel de Ville was annulled, and tlu^ detention of the Baron de Besenval confirmed. So soon was verified the opinion of the sagacious Bailly, which Necker could not be persuaded to follow. At this moment parties began to speak out more decidedly. The parliaments, the nobility, the clergy, the Court, all threat- ened witli the same ruin, had united their interests, and acted in concert. Neither the Oomte d'Artois nor the Polignacs were any longer at the Court. Consternation, mingled Avith JULY 1789 THE FRENCH RE VOL TIT ION. 6 5 despair, pervaded the aristocracy. Having been unable to prevent what it termed the e\T.l, 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 tliat evil. This system, com])ounded of spite and perfidy, which is called '-political 2:)essimism," begins among ]:)arties as soon as they have suffered sufficient losses to make- them renounce what thev have left, in the hoj)e of regaining tlie whole. The aristocracy began from this time to adopt this system, and it was frequently seen voting with the most violent members of the popular party. Circumstances draw forth men. The danger which threatened the nolDility produced a cliamjuon for it. Young Cazales, captain in the Queen's dragoons, had found in himself an unlooked-for energy of mind and facilit}^ of expression. Precise and simple, he said prom^^tly and snitabh^ what he had to say ; and it is to be regretted that his upright mind was devoted to a cause which liad no valid reasons to urge till it had been persecuted. The clergy had found its defender in the iVbbe Maury. That abbi', a practised and inexhaustible sophist, had many happy sallies and great coolness : he could courageousl}^ withstand tumult, and audaciously oppose evi- dence. 8uch were the means and the dispositions of the aristocracy. The ministry was without ^iews and witliout plans. Necker, hated Ijy tlie Court, whicli endured him from compulsion — Necker ahjne had not a plan but a wish. He had always a longing after the English constitution — the best, no doubt, that can be adopted — as an accommodation between the throne, the aristocracy, and the people ; but this constitution, proposed b}^ the Bishoj:) of Langres before the establishment of a single assemblv, and refused bv the first orders, had become im- practicable. The high nobility would nrtt admit of two chambers, because that would be a compromise ; the inferior nobility, because it could not ha\'e access to the upper chamber ; the popular party, because, still filled with apprehensions of the aristocrac3^ 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 onl}^ conciliatory views to exasperated passions, and opposed to its adversaries arguments alone, without any means of action. The popular party began to disagree, because it began to con- quer. Lally-Tollendal, Mounier, Malouet, and other partisans of Necker, approved of all that had been done thus far, because VOL. I. 5 66 HISTORY OF JULY1789 all that had been done liad bronglit ONcr the government to their ideas, that is to say. to tlie English constitution. They now judged that tliis was sufficitnit : reconciled with power, they wished to stop there. TJie ])o]nilar party, on the contrary, conceived that it was not yet time to stop. It was in tlie Breton club tliat tlie (juestion was discussed with the greatest vehemence. A sincere conviction was the motive of the majority i ])ersonal ]H'etensions began nevertlieless to manifest tliemselves. and the nujvements of private interest to succeed the iirst flights of ])atriotism. Barnave, a y<>uiig advocate of Cirenoble. endow(^d with a clear and ready mind, and possess- ing in the highest degree the talents recpiisite for a good speaker, formed with the two Lameths a triumvirate, which interested l^y its youtli, and soon influenced by its activity and its abilities. Duport, the young councilloi- to tlie ]:)arliament, whom we have already seen distinguishing himselF, belonged to their association. It was said at tlie time, that Duport con- ceived all that ought to be done, that Barnave expressed it. and that the Lameths executed it. However, 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 institutions rtf the old monarchy had shocked iust minds, and excited the indignation of upright hearts ; but it was im- possible that they should not have galled some ardent spirit, and inflamed strong passions. This s];)irit was that of Mirabeau, who. encountering from his birtlr every kind of tyranny — that of his father, of the government, and of the tribunals — spent his youth in combating and in hating them. He was born beneath the sun of Provence, the offspring of a noble family. He had early made himself notorious by his dissolute manners, his quarrels, and an impetuous eloquence. His travels, obser- vation, and immense reading had taught him much, and his memory had retained it all. But extravagant, eccentric, nay even a sophist, without the aid of passion, lie became by its aid quite a different man. No sooner was he excited by the tribune and the presence of his opponents than his mind took fire: his 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 veiy tribune all was to him new discovery, sudden and energetic expression. If again crossed, he returned still more forcible and more clear, and presented the truth in images either striking or terrible. Were the circumstances difficult, JULY 1789 THE FRENCH EEVOLUTION. 67 were minds fatig'uecl h\ a long discussion, or intimidated by danger, an fjaciilation. a di'cisive word dro])ped from his lips, his countenance hjoking teriific with ugliness and genius, and the Asse-mbh-. mlio'htened or encouraofed. enacted laws or passed magnaninmus resolutions. Proud of his liigii qualities, jesting over his vices, by turns haughty or sup])]e. lie won some by his llattery, awed otliers bv his sarcasms, and led all in his train l^v tlie extraordinary inlluence whicli he ])ossessed. His party was everywhere : among the ])eople. in tlie Asseml)ly. in tlie \ery Court, with all those, in short, to whom lu? was at the monient addressing liimself. Mingling familiarly witli men just when it was requisite to do so. he had aj^j^lauded tlu^ rising talent of Barnave. tliough lie disliked his young friends; lie ap])reciated the ])rofound understanding of Sieyes, and humoured his wild disposition ; he dreaded too pure a life in Lafayette ; in iSecker he detested an extreme rigour, the ];)ride of reason, and the pretensi^'. If. however, he was a foe to the vanities of monarchy. 4 A- he was still more adverse to the ostracism of republics; but not being sufficieJitly revenged on the great and on power, he still Continued to destroy. Harassed, moreover, by straitened circumstances, dissatisfied with the present, he was ad\'ancing towards an unkno\vn future : V)y his talents, his ambition, his vices, his pecuniary embarrassments, he gave rise tr» all sorts of conjectures ; and by liis cynical language he authorized all suspicions and calumnies. Thus were France and the parties divided. The first difl'er- ences between the popular deputies arose on occasion of the excesses committed Ijv the multitude. j\Iounier and Lally- Tollendal proposed a solemn proclamation to the people, to reprobate their outrages. The Assembly, sensible of the use- lessness of this measure, and the necessity for ])reserving the goodwill of the populace who had supported it, at first rejected this proposal ; but afterwards, yielding to the solicitations of some of its members, it at length issued a ]3roclamation, which proved, as it had been foreseen, utterly useless, for it is not by words that an excited populace can be pacified. The agitation was general. A sudden terror had spread itself everyAvhere. The name of those brigands who had been seen starting up in the different commotions was in all mouths, 68 HISTORY OF juLyi789 and their imasfe in all minds. The Court threw the blame of their outrages on the popular party, and the popular paity on the Court. All at once couriers, traversing 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 (jiiarters. and in a fe^v days all France was in arms, awaiting the brigands, who ne\'er made their appear- ance. This stratagem, wliich extended the rexolution of the 14th of July to every part of the kingdom, l:)y causing the whole nation to take up arms, was attributed to all the parties, and has since been imputed to the popular party, wdiich benefited l^y its results. It is surprising that a strata- gem, more ingenious than culpable, should be bandied about from one to the other. It has been ascribed to Mirabeau, who boasted of being its author, and who nevertheless has disavowed it. It was not unlike a contrivance bv Sieves ; and some have imagined that it was he who suggested it to the Duke of Orleans. Lasth", it was imputed by others to the Court. Such persons argue that those couriers would have been apprehended at every step had they not been authorized by the government ; that the Court, never having suppr»sed the revolution to be general, and looking upon it as a mere riot of the Parisians, washed to arm the ]:>rovinces for the purpose of op^^osing them to the capital. Be this as it may. tlie expedient proved bene- ficial to the nation, by arming and enabling it to protect itself and its rio'hts. The people of the towns had shaken off their fetters ; the country people also determined to shake off 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 in some parts of the country committed atrocious acts of revenge. A deplorable accident had sfreatlv contributed to excite this universal effer- vescence. A sieur de Mesmai, seigneur of Quincey, gave an entertainment in the grounds about his mansion. All the countr}^ people were assembled tliere, and indulging in various amusements, when a barrel of gunpowder, suddenly taking fire, produced a murderous 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 Mesmai. The report of it soon spread, and everywhere ])rovoked the bar- barity 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 demand from it the means of restoring order. AUG. 1789 THE FRENCH BEVOLUTIOX. 69 These disasters of all kinds had occurred since the 14th of July. The month of August was beginning, and it became indispensable to re-establish the action of the government and of the laws. But to attempt this with success, it was neces- sary to commence the regeneration of the State with the re- form of the institutions which were most obnoxious to the people, and had the greatest tendency to excite them to insur- rection. One part of the nation, subject to the other, was burdened with a number of what were termed feudal dues. Some, called useful, compelled the peasants to make ruinous advances; others, named honorary, rccpiired them to pay humiliating marks of respect and services to tlieir lords. These were relics of the feudal barbarism, the abolition of whicli was due to humanity. These privileges, considered as pro])erty, and even called so by the King in tlie declaration of the 23rd of June, could not be abolished by a discussion. It \vas requisite l^y a sudden movement to excite the possessors to resi^^n them of tlieir own accord. The Assembly was then discussing the famous declaration of the rio'lits of man. It had at first been debated Avhcther there sliould be such a declaration or not, and it had been decided, on the morning of the 4tli of August, that it should be made, and placed at the head of the constitution. In the evening of tile same day the committee made its report on the disturb- ances and the means of putting an end to them. The A icomte de Noailles and the Due d'Aiguillon, both members of the nobility, then ascended the tribune, and represented that it would be silly to (nnploy force to quiet the peo])le ; 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 pro- posed to abolish all the vexatious rights which by the name of feudal rights oppressed the country people. M. Leguen de Kerengal, a landholder of Bretagne, appeared in the tribune in the dress of a farmer, and drew a friglitful picture of the feudal system. Presently the 2'enerositv of some was excited and the pride of others wrought upon to such a degree as to produce a sudden paroxysm of disinterestedness : every one hurried to the tribune to renounce his privileges. The nol)ility set the first example, which was as cheerfully followed by the clergy. A sort of intoxication seized the Assembly. Setting aside a su]5erfluous discussion, and which certainly was not re- quired 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 70 HISTORY OF aug. 1789 orders, those of the commons came also to offer their sacrifices. Having no personal privileges to give np, they relinquished those of the provinces and the towns. The equality of rights established between indi\iduals was thus established also between all the parts of the French territory. Some offered pensions, and a member of the parliament, having nothing else to give, promised his zeal in behalf of the public welfare. The steps of the office Avere covered with deputies who came to deliver the acts of their renunciation. They were content f(.)r 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 of making matters worse. Everything was to be feared from the eftVct of that night, and the impulse given, when Lally-Tollendal. perceiving tlie danger, caused a note to this effect to be handed to the president: " EAerytliing is to be apprehended from the enthusiasm of the Assembly ; break up the sitting."' At tlie same instant a deputy ran up to him, and grasping his liand witli emotion, said to him. "Procure us the royal sanctictn, and we are friends.' Lally-Tollendal, sen- sible of the necessity of attacliing the Kevolutictn to the King, tlien proposed to proclaim him the restorer of French liberty. The motion was hailed \\\t\\ enthusiasm : it was resolved that Tc Dc'iim should be performed, and the Assembly at length broke up about midnight. During this memorable niglit the Assembly had decreed : — The abolition of the quality of serf; The right of com])ounding for tlu^ seigniorial dues ; The abolition of the seigniorial jurisdictions ; The suppression of exclusive rights to hunt, to keep dove- cotes, warrens, &c. ; The redemption of tithes ; The equality of taxes ; The admission of all the citizens to civil and military em- ployments ; The abolition of the sale of ojfifices ; The suppression of all the privileges of towns and pro- vinces ; The reformation of i\\v jurandes ; And the sup]iression of pensions obtained witliout claims. These resolutions had been ]mssed in a general form, and they still remained to hv embodied in decrees ; and then, the first fervour of generosity liaving subsided, some strttve to extend, otliers to contract, the concessions obtained. The dis- AUG. 1789 THE FIIENCH BE VOL UTION. 7 1 ciission gi'ew 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 re- deemed. The conquerors, the first creators of the nobility, when of old they subdued the country, imposed seryices upon the inhabitants, and a tribute upon the land. They had eyen seized part of the latter, and had gradually restored it to the cultiyators, only on condition of being paid perpetual rents. A long possession, followed by numerous transfers, constituting property, all the charges imposed upon the inhabitants and the lands had acquired the same character. The Constituent Assembly was therefore compelled to attack property. In this situation it was not as more or less acquired, but as being- more or less burdensome to society, that the Assembly had to deal with it. It abolished personal services ; and several of these ser\4ces having been changed into quit-rents, it abolished these quit-rents. Among the tributes imposed upon land, it abolished those which were e^^-dently the relics of servitude, as the fines im]iosed u]3on transfer ; and it declared redeem- able all the perpetual rents, that were the price for which the nobility had formerly ceded part of the lands to the cultivators. Nothing therefore is more, absurd than to accuse the Consti- tuent 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 pay- ing taxes, should become all at once so tenacious of principles when its own prerogatives were at stake. The seigniorial courts were also called pro]:)erty, because they had for ages been trans- mitted from heir to heir : but the Assembly, disregarding this plea, abolished them ; directing, however, that they should be kept up till a substitute should be provided for them. The exclusive right of the chase was also a subject of warm discussion. Notwithstanding the vain objection that the whole population would soon be in arms if the riglit of S]:>orting were made general, it was conferred on every one within the limits of his own lands. The pri^•ileged dove-cotes were in like manner defended. The Assembly decided that everybody might keep them ; but that in harvest-time ]^igeons might lie killed like ordinary game upon the lands which they might be visiting. All the captainships were abolished ; but it was added that provision should be made for the private pleasures of the King by means compatible with liberty and property. One article gave rise to discussions of peculiar violence, on 72 HISTORY OF ' aug. 1789 account of the more important cfuestions to which it was the prelude, and the interests which it attacked — this was an article relative to tithes. On the night of the 4th of August the Assembl}^ had declared that tithes might be redeemed. At the moment of drawing up the decree, it determined to abolish them without redemption, talving care to add that the State should provide for the maintenance r)f the clerg}\ There was no doubt an informality in this decision, because it interfered with a resolution already adopted. But to tliis objection Garat answered that this Avould be a hond-Jide redemption, since the State actually redeemed the titlies to the relief of the con- tributor by undertaking to make a ])rovision for the clerg}". The Abbe Sieyes, who was seen with sur]:>rise among the defenders of the tithes, and who was not supposed to be a disinterested defender of that impost, admitted, in fact, that the State really redeemed the tithes, but that it committed a robbery on the mass of the nation by throwing upon its shoulders a debt which ought to be borne by the landed pro- prietors alone. This objection, urged in a striking manner, was accompanied with this keen and since frecpiently repeated expression : " You want to be free, and you know not how to be just." Thougli Sieyes thought this objection unanswerable, the answer to it was easy. The debt incurred for the support of religion is the debt of all ; whether it slioidd be paid by the landed proprietors rather than by the whole of the tenants is a point for the State to decide. It robs nobody by dividing the 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 Miral^eau proved to demonstration. The clergy, which preferred tithes, because it foresaw that the salary adjudged by the vState would be measured according to its real necessities, claimed a property in tithes by immemorial concessions : it renewed that oft-re])eated argument of long possession, which proves nothing ; otherwise ever^^thing, not excepting tyranny itself, would be rendered legitimate by possession. It was answered tliat titlie was only a life-interest, that it was not transferable, and had not tlie 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 anotlier. The pride of tlu^ clergy revolted at the idea of its receiving a salary ; on this subject it combined with vehemence ; and IMirabeau. who was particularly dexterous in launching the shafts of reason and irony, replied to the com- plainants, that he knew of but three ways of existing in society AUG. 1789 TEE FRENCH VxEVOLUT ION. 7 -^ — by robbing, begging, or being paid a salary. The clergy felt tliat it behoved it to give up what it was no longer able to defend, "^riie cures in particular, knowing that they had every- thing to gain from the spirit of justice which pervaded the Assembly, and that it was the opulence of the prelates ^\hich was the especial oljject of attack, were the first t<» derist. The entire abolition of tithes was therefore decreed; it was added that the Statf would take upon itself the expense of ])roviding for the ministers of religion, and that meanwhile the tithe should continue to be le\ied. This latter clause, fraught with respect, ]n'oved indeed useless. The people would no longer pay, but that they would not do even before the passing of the decree ; and when the Assemblv abolished the feudal svstem, it was alreadv in fact overthrown. On the iith all the articles were presented to the monarch, who accepted the title of the restorer of French libeity. and was present at the Tc Dcurii. having the president at his right hand, and all the deputies in his train. Thus was consummated the most important reform of the Revolution. Th(.' Asseml)ly had manifested equal energy and moderation. Unfortunately a nation never knows ho^v to resume with moderation tlu^ exercise of its rights. Atrocious outrages were committed throuQ'hout the whole kincfdom. The mansi(_)ns of the gentry contirmed to be set on hre, and the country was inundated by sportsmen eager t(.t avail themselves of their newly acfjuired rights. They spread over the lands formerly reserved for the exclusive pleasure of their o]^pressors, and committed frightful devastations. Every usurpation meets with a cruel retribution, and he who usur])s ought at least to consider his children, who almost always have to pay the penalty. Numerous accidents occurred. 80 early as the 7th of August the ministers again attended the .\ssembly for the purpose of laying before it a report on the state <:»f the kingdom. The keeper of the seals announced the alarming disturbances which had taken place ; Necker revealed the deplorable state of the finances. ^Jlie Assembly receiA'ed this twoi'old message with sorrow, but without discouragement. On the lOtli it passed a decree relati\'e to the public tranquillity, by which the municipalities were directed to ])ro\ide for the ])reser^■ation of order by dispersing all seditious assemblages. They ^vere to deliver up mere rioters to the tribunals ; but those wIkj 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 enabled to ascertain the cause of these disturbances. The national militia and the 74 HISTORY OF aug. 1789 regular troops were placed at the disposal of the municipalities, and they were to take an oath to be faithful to the nation, the Kino-, and the law. This oath was afterwards called the civic oath. The report of Necker on the finances was extremely alarm- ing. It was the want of subsidies that had caused recourse to be had to a National Assembly. No sooner had this Assembly met than it had commenced a struggle with power ; and directing its whole attention to the urgent necessity of estab- lishing guarantees, it had neglected that of securing the re- venues of the State. On Necker alone rested the whole care of the finances. While Bailly, charged with provisioning the capital, was in the mcst painful anxiety. Necker. harassed by less urgent but far more extensive wants — Necker, absorbed in laborious calculations, tormented by a thousand troubles, stro\'e to supply the public necessities ; and while he was tliinking only of financial questions, he was not aware that the Assembh' was thinking exclusivel}^ of political ques- tions. Necker and the Assembly, each engrossed by their own object, perceived no other. If, however, the alarm of Necker was justified bv the actual distress, so was the con- fidence of the Assembly bv 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 1788, had found but four hundred thousand francs in the exchequer. He had, by dint of assiduity, provided for the most urgent wants ; and circumstances had since increased those wants by diminislnng the resources. It had been found necessary to purchase corn, and to sell it again for less than tlie cost price ; to give away considerable sums in alms ; to undertake public works, in order to furnish employment to the workmen. For this latter purpose so much as twelve tliousand francs per day had been issued by the excliequer. While the expenses had increased, the receipts had diminished. The reduction of the price of salt, the delay of payments, and in many cases th(? absolute refusal to pay the taxes, the smuggling carried on by armed force, the destruction of the barriers, nay the plunder of the registers and the murder of the clerks, had annihilated part of the public revenue. Necker in conse- quence demanded a loan of thirty millions. The first impres- sion was so strono-, that the Assembly was about to vote the loan by acclamation ; but this first impression soon subsided. A dislike was expressed for new loans ; a kind of contradiction AUG. 1789 THE FliENCE BE VOL UTIOX. 7 5 was committed \)\ appealing to tlie instructions, which had ah'eady been renounced, and whicli forbade the granting of imposts till the constitution had bt-en framed : members even went so far as to enter into a calculation of the sums recei\'ed since the preceding year, as if tliey distrusted the minister. However, the abs()lute necessity of providing for the wants of the State caused the loan to be carried ; but the minister's plan was changed, and the interest reduced to four and a half per cent., in false reliance upon a patriutism ^^'hich was in the nation, but whicli could not exist in money-lenders by profes- sion, the only persons ^vh(^ in general enter into financial speculations of this kind. This first blunder was one of those which assemblies usually commit, l^ecause they supersede the immediate views of tlie minister who acts, by the general views of twelve hundred minds which speculate. It was easv to perceive, therefore, that the spirit of the nation began already not to harmonise witli the timidity of the minister. Having bestowed this indispensable care on the public tranquillity and the finances, the Assembly directed its atten- tion to the declaration of rights. The first idea of it had been furnished by Ijafayette, who had himself borrowed it from the Americans. 'J'liis discussion, interrupted by the re- volution of the 14th of July, renewed on the ist of August. a second time interrupted by the abolition of the feudal svstem, was anew and definitivelv 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 everything that was grand ; this enthusiasm ]'>roduced their sincerity, their courage, their good and their bad resolutions. Accordingly they caught at this idea, and resolved to carry it into execution. Had they meant only to proclaim certain principles, particidarly obnoxious t(» the authority whose voke thev had just shaken off, such as the voting of taxes, religious liberty, the liljeity of the press, and ministerial responsibility, nothing would have been more c^asy. This was what America and England had formerlv done. France might have compressed into a few pithy and positive maxims the new principles whicli she imposed upon her govern- ment ; but desiring to go back to a state of nature, she aspired to give a complete declaraticui of all the rights of the man and of the citizen. At first the necessity and the danger of such a declaration were discussed. J\Iuch w^as said and to no pur- pose on this subject, for there was neither utility nor danger in issuing a declaration composed of formulas that were above the comprehension of the ^^eople. It was something only for -J 6 EmTOBY OF auCx. 1789 a certain number of pliilosopliic 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 acts. But it was necessary tu draw it up, and that was the most difficult point. What is a right ? — that which is due to men. Now all the good that can be done to them is their due ; every \vis(' measure of government is therefore a right. T]ius all the proposed plans contained a definition of the law, the manner in which it was to be made, tlie principle of the sovereignty, &c. It was objected that these were not rights, but general maxims. It was nevertlieless of importance to express those inaxims. MiralDeau, becoming impatient, at length exclaimed, •■ Omit the word rights, and say. 'For tJie interest of all it has been declared.' " The more imposing title of declaration of rights was nevertheless preferred, and under it were blended maxims. principlf.'S, and declarations. Out of the whole was composed the celebrated declaration placed at the head of the constitution of 1791. In otlier respects there was no great harm done in wasting a few sittings on a philosophic common- place. 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 constitution. The fatigue occasioned by the preliminaries was general, and the fundamental questions began already to be discussed out of the Assembh'. The Eno-lish constitution 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 tlie King, the aristocracy, and the people. This constitution resided essentially in the establish- ment of two chambers and in the royal sanction. Minds in their first flight go to the simplest ideas : a people declaring its will, and a king who executes it, appeared to them the only legitimate form of government. To give to the aristocracy a share equal 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. llic 'nation vnlls, the King cxcct'tcs : they C(»uld not get beyond these simple elements, and they imagined tliat they wished for a monarchy, because they left a king as tlie executor of the national resolu- tions. Eeal monarchy, as it exists even in States re]:>uted free, is the rule of one, to which limits are set by means of the national concurrence. There tlie will of the prince in reality docs almost everytliing, and that of the nation is confined to tlie prevention of evil, either by disputing the taxes, or by con- curring in the law. But the moment that the nation can order AUG. 1789 THE FLENCH EEVOLUTIOK 77 wliat it plcasf's without tlie king's having tlic power to oppose it ])\ a >rlo. thr kiiio' is no niori' tlian a magistrate. It is then a republic, Avitli one consul instead of seAeral. The government of J^)land, though it liad a king, was never called a monarchy, but a re|)ul;)lic ; tJiere was a king also at Laceda3mon. ^lonarcliy, jU'operlv undei'stood. reijiiircs therefore great concessions 1V( an (qiinion. But it is n((t after a long nullity, and in their hrst entiuisiasm. that they are disposed to make them. 'I'hus tlie re]niblic existed in men's opinions without l)eing mentioned, and tliey were republicans without being aware of it. In the discussion the mem]:)ers did not explain tlieniselves with precision; accordingly, notwithstanding the genius and knriwledn-o to be found bv the Assembh% the (luestion was superficially treated and imperfectly understood. '^I'he ])artisans of the Eni-'lish constitutiossess the power of checking the encroachments of an Assembb' ; that in order to his dulv executing the law. and executing it cheerfully, it was requisite that he should ha^e co-operated in it; and finally, that there ought to exist a coiniecti(;»n between the executi\'e and legisla- ti^'e ]:)owers. These reasons were bad, or at any rate weak. It was ridiculous, in fact, whilst recoo-iiizino- the national sove- reignty. to pretend to oj)])ose to it the sole will of the King.* " "The reader will tiiul in the .sequel, at the comniencement of the historj' of the Legislative Assembly, a judgment that appears to me to be just concerning the faults imputed to the constitution of 1791. I have liere but one word to say on the plan of establishing at this period the English form of government in France. That iovm of government is a compromise between the three interests which divide modern States— 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 combat, or in other words, after a revolution. In England, in fact, it was not brought about till after a long struggle, after demo- cracy and usurpation. To pietfud to ell'ect the compromise before the combat, is to attempt to make peace belore war. This is a melancholy, but at the same time an incontestable, truth : men never treat till they have exhausted their strength. The Englisli constitution therefore was not practicable in France till after revolution. It was no doubt well to }»reach it up, but those who did so went injudiciously to work ; and had they even shown better judgment, they might not liave been more successful. I shall add, in order to diminish regret, that had even the entire English constitution been inscribed on our table of the law, this treaty would not have appeased men's passions till the parties had come to blows, and the battle had been fought in spite of this preliminary treaty. I repeat it, then : war, that is, revolution, was indispensable. God has given justice to men only at the price of battles.'' 7S HI^TOIiY OF AUG. 1789 They defended the two cliambers more successfully, because there are. in fact, even in a republic, higher classes which must oppose the too rapid movements of the classes that are rais- ino- themselves. b\' defendino- tlie ancient institutions ae'ainst 0*0 o the neAv institutions. But that u])per chamber, more indis- pensable than tlie royal prei'Ogati\e, since there is no instance of a republic without a senate, was more scouted than the sanction, because people were more exasperated against the aristocracy tlian against royalty. It was impracticable then to form an up])er chambe]\ because nobr>dy wished for it : the inferior noljility opposed it. because they cuiild not obtain admission into it; the pri\ilcged ]3ersons themselves, who were des])(M'ate. because tliey desired the worst ; tlie popular party, because it would not lea\e tlie aristocracy a ]3ost whence it might command the national will. Mounier, Lally, and Necker were almost the only membei's who wished for this upper chamber. Sieves, bv an absolute error in iudo-ment, would not admit either of the two chambers or of the royal sanction. He conceived society to be completely uniform ; according to him, the ma^^s. without distinction of classes, ought to be chars'ed to will, and the KiuQ-, ^s the sole mao-istrate. to be charged to execute. He was tlierefore quite sincere when he said that T,vhether monarcliy or republic, it was the same thing, since tlie difference consisted, in his opinion, only in the nund^er of the magistrates charged with the execution. The characteristic of the mind of ySieyes was concatenation, that is to say. the strict connection of his own ideas. He was in the best understanding witli himself; but he liarmonized neither witli the nature of things nor with minds different from his own. lie 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-humonr. Mirabeau, a man of straightforward, prompt, snpple mind, was not further advanced in ]ioint of political science than the Assembly itself ; he was ad\erse to the two chambers, not from comiction, but from the Icnowledge of their then im- practicability, and from hatred of the aristocracy. He de- fended 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, Dn])ort, and Lameth could not ao'ree in these sentiments of Mirabeau, Thev were for not admitting either of the upper chamber or of the royal sanction ; but they were not so obstinate as Sieyes, and con- AUG. 1789 THE FKENCH REVOLUTION. yg sentecl to modify tlieir ojnniou by allowing the King and the upper clianiber a merely suspensive \-eto, that is to ^^y, the power of temporal ily opposing the national will, expressed in the l(.)wer chamlDer. The first discussions took ])lace on tin* 28tli and 29th of August. The friends oi liarna\e w^ere desirous of treating with ]\Iounier. wliose obstinacy had made him leader of the party in favour of the English constitution, it beho\-ed them to gain (»A'er the most inflexible, and to Inm therefore they addressed tluMusehes. (\)nferences were held ; when it was found to l)e imp(*ssible to change an opinion that had been long cherished by him: thev assented to those EnHish forms to wdiicli he was so wedded ; Imt on condition that, in oppos- ing to the popular chamber an u]rper chamber and the King, only one suspensive veto should be given to the two. and that, moreover, the King should not have authority to dissolve the Assembly. ]\b)unier replied, like a man whose mind is thoroughly convinced, that truth was mit liis 2)roperty. and that he could not sacrifice one part to sa^■e the other. Thus did he wreck both institutions by refusino- to modifv them. And if it were true, wdiich it was not, as we shall ]:)resently see, that the constitution of 1791 overturned the tlu'one by the suppression of the up]:»er chamber, Mounier would have occasion to reproach himself severely. Mounier was not passionate l}ut obstinate ; he ^\'as 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. Mounier had been threatened 'svith the pul)lic opinion of Paris, and his adversaries set out. he said, to exercise that inlluence with which he liad been menaced.* These questions divided the people as well as the repre- sentatives, and if they did not comprehend them, they attacked or defended them with not the less warmth. They summed them all up in the short and ex])editious term veto. They approved or disapproved the veto, and this signified that they wished or did not wish for tyrann}^ The populace, without even understanding this, took the veto for a tax which ought to be abolished, or an enemy that ought to be hung, and w^ere eager to consign him to the lamp-post. t The Palais Koyal in particular was in the greatest fermen- tation. Men of ardent minds assembled there, who, spurning * See Appendix I. t Two countrymen were talking of the veto "Dcst thou know," said one of them, "what the veto is ? " " Xo, not I." " Well then, thou hast thy basin full of soup : the King says to thee, ' Spill thy soup,' and thou art forced to spill it." So HI8T0IIY OF aug. 1789 even the f( trnis iin])osecl in tlie districts, inr)nnted a chair, began their uncalled-for harangues, and were hissed or borne in triumph l)y an immense crowd, which hastened to execute what tlie}^ ])roposed. '^J'here (lamille Desmoulins. already mentioned in this history, disting-uishod liimself by the enere'y, originality, and cynical turn of his mind ; and without being cruel himself, he demande'd crue'ltics. Then', tno. was seen St. Hurugue. an ancient marquis. l(tng imprisoned in the Jiastille on account of family quarrels, and incensed to madness against the supreme authority. There it was eyer}' day re'[)eated that the}^ r)ught all to go to A'ersailles. to call the King and the Assembly to account for their hesitation to secure the welfare of the people. Lafayette had the greatest difficulty to keep them within bounds by continual patrols. Tlie national guard was already accused of aristr)cracy. "There was no ]iatrol at the Ceramicus," ob- served Desmoulins. The name of (Jromwell had already been pronounced along with that of Lafayette. One day — it was Sunday the 30th of August — a motion was made at the l^alais lioyal ; Mounier was accused. Mirabeau represented to be in danger, and it was proposed to proceed to Versailles to ensure the personal safety of the latter. JMirabeau nevertheless de- fended the sanction, but ^^itheak more correctly, all that otliers sliould please for it. The courtiers formed ]")lans, circulated projects, strove to enlist partisans ; and in- dulging vain liojies. betrayed themselves l^y imprudent threats. D'Estaing, formerly so renowned at tlie liead of our fleets, commanded tlie national guard of Versailles. He desired to be faithful both to the nation and to the Court ; a difficult 8 8 HISTOR \ ^ OF sept. 1789 ]5art, wliicJi is always exposed to calumny, and wliicli great linniiess alone can render honourable. He learned the machinations of the courtiers. The highest personages were involved in them ; witnesses most worthy of belief had been mentioned to him, and he addressed to the Queen his celebrated letter, in which he expatiated with respectful firmness on the impropriety and danger of such intrigues. He disguised nothing, and mentioned e\'ery person by name.* The letter had no effect. In venturing upon such enterprises, the Queen must have ex|3ected remonstrances, and could not have been surprised at them. About the same period a great number of new faces appeared at Versailles ; nay. even strange uniforms were seen there. The company of the life-guards whose term of duty had just expired was retained ; some dragoons and chasseurs of the Trois-Eveches were sent for. The French guards, who had quitted the King's duty, irritated at its being assigned to others, talked of going to Versailles to resume it. Assuredly they had no reason whatever to complain, since the}' had of themselves relinquished that duty. But they were instigated, it is said, to this purpose. It was asserted at the time that the Court wished by this contrivance to alarm the King, and to prevail on him to remove to Metz. One fact affords suffi- cient proof of this intention : ever since the commotions at the Palais Royal, Lafayette had placed a post at Sevres to defend the passage between Paris and Versailles. Lafayette found means to stop the French guards, and to divert them from their purpose. He wrote confidentially to 8t, Priest, the minister, to inform him of what had passed, and to allay all apprehensions. St. Priest, abusing tlie confidence of Lafayette, showed the letter to d'Fstaing. who communicated it to the olScers of the national guard of \'ersailles and the municipality, in order to apprize them of the dangers which threatened and might still threaten that town. It was proposed to send for the Flanders regiment ; a great number of battalions of the A^ersailles 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 off the King, and to protect his flight. D'Estaing informed the National Assembly (jf the measures that had been adopted, and obtained its appro- bation. The regiment arrived : the military train that followed it, though incr)nsiderable, did not fail to excite murmurs. The life-guards and the courtiers souglit tlie society of the officers, * Svr Api)endix ]v. OCT. 1789 TJIE FRENCH llEVOLUriON. 89 loaded tliem with attentions, and tliey appeared, as pre\dously to the I4t]i 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 sufferings of the populace. On the 2nd of October the life-guards ga\e a dinner to the officers of tlie o'arrison. It was held in the theatre. The boxes were filled with spectators belonging to tlie 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 regi- ments were then introduced. The company, with drawn swords, drank tlie healtli oF the royal family ; the toast of tlie nation was refused — or. at least, omitted; the trumpets sounded a charge ; the boxes were scaled with hmd shouts ; the expressive aiid celebrated song, '^ Eichard ! o mon roi ! I'univers t"abandonne," was sung; tliey vowed to die for the King, as if lie had been in tlie most imminent danger: in short, the delirium had no bounds. Cockades, white or black, but all of a single colour, were distributed. The young women as well as the young men were animated with chi^'alrous recol- lections. At this moment, it is said, the national cockade was trodden under foot. This fact has since been denied ; but does not wine render ever^^Jiinp" credible — everythinp' excusable ? Besides, of what use were these' meetings, which produce on the one side but an illusory zeal, and excite on the other a real and terrible irritation ? At this juncture some r)ne ran to the Queen ; she consented to come to the entertainment. A number of persons surrounded the King, who was just re- turning from Iiunting, and he, tt>o, was drawn thither. The company threw themselves at the feet of both, and escorted them, as in triumph, to their apartments. It is soothing, no doubt, to those who regard themselves as stripped of their authority and threatened, to meet with friends ; but why should the}' thus deceive themselves in regard to their rights, their stren^h, or their means ? * The report of this entert-ainment soon spread, and no doubt the popular imagination, in relating the circumstances, added * "Such was this famous banquet, which tlie Court liad the imprudence to renew on the 3rd of October. We cannot but deplore its fatal want of foresight ; it knew neither liow to submit to its destiny, nor how to cliauge it. The assem- bling of a military force, far from preventing the aggression of Paris, ])rovoked it. The banquet did not render the devotedness of the soldiers more certain, wliile it increased the disatl'ection of the multitude. To guard itself, there was no necessity for so much ardour ; nor for (light, so much preparation ; but the Court never took the proper measure for the success of its designs, or it took only lialf measures, and delayed its final decision till it was too lati*/' — Mirjuct. 90 HISTORY OF oct. 1789 its own exaggerations to those wliicli tlie event itself had pro- duced. Tlie promises made to the King were construed as threats held out to the nation : this prodigality was considered as an insult to the public distress, and the shouts of "To Ver- sailles ! '' were renewed with more vehemence than ever. Thus ])etty causes concurred to strengthen the effect of general causes. Young men appeared in Paris with black cockades ; they were pursued : one of them was dragged away by the ]}eople, and the commune was obliged to proliibit cockades of a single colour. The day after this unfortunate dinner a nearly similar scene took place at a breakfast given h\ the life-guards. The com- pany presented themselves, as on the former occasion, before the Queen, who said tliat she had been quite delighted with the dinner of Thursday. She was eagerl}^ 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 person of the King ; to the Court, that terror might drive him to Metz. It was also convenient to the Due d'Orleans, who hoped to obtain the lieutenancy of the kingdom if the King should withdraw ; nay, it has been said that this prince went so far 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 from this new insurrection have brought upon him the cliarge of having had a hand in it ; but this is unfounded. He cannot have connnunicated 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 e\T.dence, and time, which ex]ilains everything, have brought to light no trace of a concerted plan. No doubt, on this occasion, as during the whole Eevolution, the Due d'Orleans was merely following in the train of the popular m.ovement, scattering ]:)erhaps a little money, giving rise to rumours, and having liimself but vague hopes. The populace, agitated by tlie discussions on the veto, irri- tated by the black cockades, annoyed by the continual ]iatrols, and suffering from hunger, was in crnnmotion. Bailly and Necker had neglected no means of ^irocui'ing an abundant su]'>ply of provisions : but either From the difficulty of convey- ance, or the ]")illage whicli took ]ilaco by the way, and above all, from the impossibility of making amends for the spon- ■J ^1 OCT. 1789 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 91 taneous movement of commerce, there was still a scarcity of flour. On the 4th of October the agitation was greater than ever. People talked of the departure of the King for j\Ietz, and the necessity of going to fetch him from Versailles ; they kept an eager look-out for black cockades, and vociferously demanded bread. Numerous patrols succeeded in preventing tumult. T]]e night passed off quietly. In the morning of the following day crowds began again to assemble. The women went to the bakers' shops ; there was a ^vant of bread, and they ran to the Square in which the Hotel de Yille is situated, to complain of it to the representatives of the commune. The latter had not yet met, and a battalion of the national guard was drawn up in the place of the Hotel de Ville. A number of men joined these women ; but they refused their assistance, sa}T.ng that men were unfit to act. They then rushed upon the battali(»n, and drove it back by a volley of stones. At this moment a door was forced o])en ; the women poured into the Hotel de A ille ; brigands with pikes hurried in along with them, and would have set fire to the buildino". Thev were kept back ; but they succeeded in taking possession of the door leading to the great bell, and sounded the tocsin. The fau- bourgs were instantly in motion. A citizen named Maillard, one of those who had signalized themselves at the capture of the Bastille, consulted the officer commanding the battalion of the national guard upon the means of clearing the Hotel de Ville of these furious women. The officer durst not approve the expedient which he proposed ; it was to collect them together under the pretext of going to Versailles, but without leading them thither. Maillard nevertheless determined to adopt it, took a drum, and soon drew them off after him. They were armed with bludgeons, broomsticks, muskets, and cutlasses. With this singular army he proceeded along the quay, crossed the Louvre, was forced, in spite of his teeth, to lead them through the Tuileries, and arrived at the Champs Elysees. Here he succeeded in disarming them by represent- ing to them that it would be better to appear before the Assembly as petitioners than as furies with weapons. They assented, and Maillard was obliged to conduct them to Ver- sailles, for it was now impossibh" to dissuade them from pro- ceeding thither. To that point all were at this moment directing their course. Some hordes set out dragging with them pieces of cannon, others surrounded the nati<:>nal guard, which itself surrounded its commander, to prevail on him to go to Versailles, the goal of all wishes. Meanwhile the Court remained tranquil ; but the Assembly 92 HISTORY OF oct. 1789 had received a message from tlie King wliich occasioned much tumult. It had presented for his acceptance the constitutional articles and the declaration of riglits. The answer was to be a mere simple acce])tance, with a promise to promulgate. For the second time the King, witlujut clearly explaining himself, addressed observations to the Assembly ; he signified his acces- sion to the constitutional articles, without, however, approving of them ; he found excellent maxims in tlie 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 prudent to express it at this particular moment ? No sooner was this declaration read than co]nplaints arose.* Robespierre said, that it was not for the Jving to criticise tlie Assembly ; and Duport, that this answer ought to be countersigned by a responsible minister.! Petion took occasion to refer to the dinner of the life-guards, and denounced the imprecations uttered against the Assembly, (iregoire adverted to the dearth, and inquired why a letter had been sent to a miller with a j^romise of two hundred livres a week if he would give up grinding. The letter proved nothing, for any of tlie parties miglit have written it ; still it excited a great tumult, and M. de Monspey proposed that Petion should sigii its denunciation. Mirabeau, wdio had disapproved in the tribune itself of the course adopted by Petion and Gregoire, then came forward to reply to M. de Monspey. " I have been the very first," said he, "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 con- sideration of the King's answer. It was eleven in the fore- noon ; tidings of the movements in Paris arrived. Mirabeau went up to Mounier, the president, who, recently elected in spite of the Palais Poyal, and threatened with a glorious fall, exhibited on this melancholy day unconquerable firmness. j * Sec Appendix L. t See Ap])endix M. J "Mounier was a man of strong judgment and iullexible character, who considered the system of the English constitution as the type of representative governments, and wislied to ell'ect the lievohition by accommodation. He, and those who tliouglit witli him, were called the Monarchists, They desired, besides a chamber of representatives, to have a senate whose members sliould be nomi- nnted by tlie King on the presentation of the people. They thought that this was the only means of preventing tlie tyranny of a single assembly. The majority OCT. 1789 THE FRENCH BE VOL UTION. 9 3 Mirabean approached him. Paris," said he. "is marching upon us ; would it be amiss to go to the pahace to tell the King to accept purely and simply?" ^^ Paris is marching!" replied ]\Ionnipr ; " so much the bc^tter ; let them kill ns all — yes, all ! the State will Ijm a gainer by it." " A very pretty sentiment indeed ! " rej<.»ined ]\rirabeaii ; and he returned to his seat. The discussion continued till three o'clock, and it was decided that the president should go to the King to demand his bare and simple acceptance. At the moment when Mounier was setting out for the palace, a deputation was announced : it was Maillard and tlie women who had followed him. Maillard desired to be admitted and heard. He was intro- duced ; the women rushed in after him, and penetrated into the hall. He then represented what had ha^^pened, the scarcity of bread, and the distress of tlie ]:)eople. He mentioned the letter addressed to the miller, and said that a persrtn whom they met by the way had told them that a clergyman was charged to denounce it. This clergyman was Gregoire, and as we have just seen, it had actually been denounced by him. 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 prelate. Maillard and his deputation were called to order. He was told that means had been adopted to su])])ly Paris with provisions; that the King had neglected nothing ; that the Assembly was going to petition him to take fresh measures ; that he and liis followers must retire : and that disturbance was not tlie wav to \M\t an end to thi^ dearth. IMounier then retired to pro- ceed tf) tlie ])alace ; but the womeii surrounded and insisted on accompanying him. He at first declined, but was obliged to allow six to go with him. Pie ])assed through the mob which had come from Paris, and which was armed with pikes, hatchets, and sticks pointed with iron. A heays^ rahi was falling. A detachment of the liFe-guards fell upon the crowd which surrounded the president, and dispersed it ; but the women soon overtook ^Founier. and he reached the palace, where the Flanders regiment, the dragoons, the Swiss, and the national militia of Versailles were drawn up in order of of the Assembly would have mslied, not a peerafje, but an aristocratic assembly, of which it should nominate the members. They could not then be heard, Mounier's party refusint,^ to co-operate in a project which would have revived the orders, and the aristocrats rejecting a senate which would have contirmed the ruin of the noblesse. The greater number of the deputies of the clergy and of the commons advocated the unity of the Assembly. Thus the nobility from dis- content, and the national party from the spirit of absolute justice, concurred in rejecting the high chamber." — Mignet, 94 HISTORY OF OCT. 1789 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 monarch, conld scarcely give utterance to the word Bread ! The King, deeply moved, embraced her, and the women returned softened by this re- ception. Their companions received them at the gate of the palace ; they would not believe their report, declared that they had suffered themselves to be tampered with, and pre- pared to tear them in pieces. The life-guards, commanded by the Comte de Guiche, hastened to release them ; musket- shots were fired 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 the ranks of the battalions, and advanced to the iron gate of the palace. M. de 8avonnieres pursued him ; but he received a l^all which broke his arm. These sldrmishes ]')roduced 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 quarters. While they were re- tiring, 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 impatiently awaited his answer. He sent word repeatedly that his functions required his presence with the Assembly, that the news of the sanction would pacify all minds, that he would retire if an answer were not brouo'ht. for he would not longer absent himself from the post to whicli his duties called him. Tlie question discussed in the council was, whether the King should leave Versailles. Tlie council lasted from six till ten at night, and the King, it is said, was against leaving the place vacant for the Due d'Orleans. An attempt was made to send off the Queen and the children ; but the crowd stopped the carriages the moment they appeared ; and besides, the Queen was firmh^ resolved not to leav(^ her husband. At length, about ten o'clock, Mounier received the bare and simple accept- ance, and returned to the Assembly. The deputies liad retired, and the women occupied the hall. ITe communicated to them the King's acceptance, with which they were highly pleased ; and they inquired if they should be tlie 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 OCT. 1789 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 95 to charge to the right account, the municipality committed the blunder of neglecting to provide for the wants of this fainished mob, which had left Paris owing to the want of bread, and Avhich could not since have found any on the way. At this moment intelligence was received of the arrival of Lafayette. For eight hours he had been opposing the national militia of Paris, who were for proceeding to Versailles. ''General," said one of his o-renadiers to him, ''you do not deceive us, but aou decei^'e vourself. Instead of turning' our arms against women, let us go to Versailles to fetch the King, and make sure of his good disposition by 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 liim by victory, but by opinion ; and abandoned by their opinion, he could no longer control them. He never- theless contrived to stop them till night ; but his voice reached only to a small distance, and beyond that nothing could appease the fury of the multitude. His life had several times been threatened, and still he resisted. Lie knew, nevertheless, that hordes were continually leaving Paris, and as the insurrection was transferrino' itself to A^ersailles. it became his dutA' 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 King, and arrived at A'ersailles about midnight. He sent word to ]\rovinier tliat the army had promised to do its duty, and that nothing should be done contrarj^ to the law. He hastened to the palace : with every demonstration of respect and sorrow lie informed the King of tlie precautions which had lieen taken, and assured him of his attachment and that of his army. The King ap])eared tranquillized, and retired to rest. The guard of the palace had been refused to Lafayette, and the outposts alone had been granted to him. The other ]")osts were destined for the Flanders regiment, whose dispositions could not be implicitly relied on, for the Swiss, and for the life-guards. These latter had at first l:)een ordered to retire : they had afterwards been recalled, and being unable to as- semble, there was but a small number of them at their ^^ost. Amidst the tumult which ]'>re vailed, all the accessible parts had not been defended ; an iron gate had even been left open. Lafayette caused the outer posts entrusted to him to be occu- pied, and none of them was forced or even attacked. The Assembly, notwithstanding the uproar, had resumed its sitting, and was engaged, with the most imposing attitude, in a discussion on the penal laws. Mirabeau, wearied out, exclaimed aloud that the Assembly had not to receive the 9 6 HIS TOR Y OF oct. 1789 law from any one, and that it should direct the tribunes to be cleared. The people vehemently applauded his apostrophe ; but the Assembh' deemed it prudi-nt not to make any more resist- ance. Lafayette having sent wctrd to Mounier that all appeared to him to be quiet, and that he mio-lit dismiss the deputies, the Assendoly adjourned till eleven tlie following day. and broke up. The crowd liad dispersed itself liere and there, and appeared to be pacified. Lafayette had reason to feel confidence, as well from tlie attachment of his armv, which, in fact, did not belie his good opinion, as from the tranquillity which seemed everywhere to prevail. He had secured the hotel of the life- guards, and sent out numerous ]iatrols. At five in the morn- ing he was still up. Conceiving that all was then quiet, he took some refreshment, and tln-ew himself upon a bed, to obtain a little rest, of Avliich he had been deprived for the last twenty-four hours.* At this moment the people began to stir, and they were already thronging to the environs of the palace. f A quarrel took place with one of the life-guards, who fired from the windows. The brigands immediately rushed on, passed the gate which had been left open, ascended a staircase, where they found no obstruction, and were at length stopped by two life-guardsmen, who heroically defended themselves, 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 the Queen ran trembling to the King's apartments. While she was escaping, the brigands pushed forward, found the royal bed forsaken, and would have penetrated fmlher, but they were again checked by the life- guards, posted in considerable number at tliat point. At this moment tlie French guards belonging to Lafayette, stationed near the palace, hearing the uproar, hastened to the spot, and * Sec Appendix N". + "Nothing occurred to interrupt tlie public tranquillitj'' from three till five o'clock in the morning ; but tlie aspect of the populace presaged an approaching storm. Large groups of savage men and intoxicated women were seated round the watch-fires in all the streets of Versailles, and relieved the tedium of a rainy night by singing revolutionary songs. In one of these circles their exasperation was such, that, seated on the corpse of one of the bodyguard, they devoured the flesh of his horse half-roasted in the flames, while a ring of frantic cannibals danced round the group. At six o'clock a furious mob rushed towards the palace, and finding a gate open, speedily filled the staircases and vestibules of the royal apartments. The assassins rushed into the (^Hieen's room a few minutes after she had left it, and enraged at finding their victim escaped, pierced her bed with their bayonets! They then dragged tlie bodies of two of the bodyguard, who had been massacred, below the windows of the King, beheaded them, and carried the Idoody heads in triumph upon the points of their pikes through the streets of YcrsaiUes."— ^l/f.w??, vr :■> ■A :[:^=, ii'i(;; ' ij I. \yy. '< X T. 1789 THE FRENCH UE 1 YJL UTIOK 9 7 dispersed the brigands. Tliey arrived at the door behind which the life-guards were entrenched. *■ Open the door," they cried : '•the French guards have not forgotten that yon saved their regiment at Fontenoi." The door was opened, and they rushed into each other's arms. Tumult reigned without. LafayiHte. who had lain down only for a ft-w moments, and had not e\'en fallen asleep, hear- ing the noise, lea-[)ed up^n the Jirst horse he met with, galloped into the thick of the fray, and there found several of the life- guards on the point of being slaughtered. While he was disengaging them, he ordered his troojis to hasten to the palace, and remained alone amidst the brigands. One of them took aim at him. Lafayette coolly commanded the people to bring the man to him. The mob instantly seized the culprit, and l^efore the face of Lafayette, 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-guai'ds who had been saved from destruction shouted Lafayette for ever ! The whole Court, seeing themselves preserved by him and his tror)ps. acknowledged that to him they were indebted for their lives. These testimonies of gratitude were universal. Madame Adelaide, tlie King's aunt, ran up to him, and clasped him in her arms, sa^dng, '' General, you liave sa\'ed us." The populace at this moment insisted with loud cries that the King should goto Paris.* A council was held. Lafayette being invited to 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 this intimation were thrown out of the windows. Louis XVI. then showed himself at the balcony, accompanied by the general, and was greeted with shouts of Lo'Wj live the Kintj I But the Queen did not fare the same : threatening voices were raised against her. Lafa- yette accosted her. "Madam," said lie, " what will you do?" "Accompany the King," undauntedly replied the Queen. " Come witli me then," rejoined the general, and he led her in amaze to the balcony. 8ome threats were offered by the popu- lace. A fatal shot might be fired ; words could not be heard ; it was necessary to strike the eye. Stooping and taking the hand of the Queen, the general kissed it respectfully. The mob of Frenchmen was transported at this action, and confirmed the reconciliation by shouts of Long live the Queen ! Long live * See Appendix 0. VOL. I. 7 9 8 HIST on Y OF oct. 1789 Lafajidfc ! Peace was not yet made with the life-guards. ^•Will YOU not do something for my guards ? " said tlie King to Lafayette. The latter took one of them, led liim to the balcony, clasped him in ]iis arms, and put on him his own shoulder-belt. The pojmlace again cheered, and ratified by its plaudits this new reconciliation. The Asseml^ly had not deemed it consistent with its dignity to go to the inonarch, though lie had desired it to do so. It had contented itself with sending to him a deputation of thirty- six members. As socni as it was a])prized of his intended de- parture, it passed a resolution purporting tliat the Assembly was inseparable from tlie person of the sovereign, and it nominated one linndred deputies to accompany him to Paris. The King received the resolution, and set out.* The principal l^ands of the mob had already gone. Lafayette had sent after tliem a detachment of the army, to prevent them from turning back. He also issued orders for disarming the brigands who were carrying tho heads of two life-guardsmen on the point of their pikes. These liorrible trt)phies were taken from them, and it is not true that they were borne before the carriage of the King-.f Louis XVL at length returned amidst a considerable con- course, and was recei\'ed by Pailly at the Hotel de Ville. " I return with confidence," said the King, "into the midst of my people of Paris." Bailly re])eated these words to tliose who could not hear them, but he forgot the word confidence. "Add uy'dh confidence^'' said the Queen. ' You are happier," replied Bailly, '" than if I liad said it myself.":}; 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 ]')reparations. The guard of it was confided to the i^arisian militia, and Lafayette was thus made responsible to the nation for the person of the King, for wliicli all the parties were contending. The nobles were desirous to carry hiui to some fortress, in order to exercise despotism in his name. The popular ]iarty, which had not yet conceived the idea of dispensing with him. wished to keep him, to complete the constitution, and to withdraw a chief from civil war. Hence the malignity of the ^Drivileged classes called Lafayette a gaoler ; and yet his vigilance proved only one thing -. — the sincere desire to liave a king.§ * Sec Appendix P. t Sec Appendix (^). + Slc Appendix R. § "The insurrection of the 5tli find 6tli of October was truly a popular move- ment; we must not seek ibr any secret causes of it, or ascribe it to concealed OCT. 1789 THE FRENCH IlEVOUJTION. 99 From this moment the march of the ])arties displayed itself in a new manntn-. The aristocracy, separated from Louis XVI. and incapable of executing any enter]3rise b}' his side, dispersed itself abroad and in the ]-)rovinces. It was from this time that the emigi-ation Ix^gan to be considerable. A great number of irobles tied to l\iriii, to the (Jomte d'Artois. who had found an asylum with his fatli(>r-in-law.* liei'e their policy consisted in exciting the departments of the south, and in supposing that the King was not free. The Queen, who was an Austrian, aud, moreover, an enemy to the new C'(jurt I'ormed at Turin, fixed her hopes on Austria. Tlie King, amidst these machinations, saw everythiug, prevented uothing. and awaited his salvation, come frrim what (juarter it might. From time tc) time he made the disa\owals r(M|ui]-ed b^' the Assemblv, and was not really free, any moi-e than lie would have ])een at Turin or at Coblentz, or than he was under Maui'epas ; frtr it is the lot of weakness to be everywhere dependent. The ]x»pular paity. thenceforward triumphant, was di^'ided among the Due d'Orleans, Lafayette. Mirabeau. JJarnave. and the Lameths.f The public voice charged the ]3uc d'Orleans and Mirabeau with being the authors of the late insurrec- tion. Witnesses who were not unworthy of credit asserted that they had seen the Duke and j\Iirabeau on the deplorable lield of battle on the 6th of October. These statements were afterwards contradicted ; at the moment, however, thev were anibiLioii ; it Avas provoked by the iin|)iu(leiice of tlie Court. Tlio Ijanquet of the bodyguard, the ruiuour.s of tlie flight, thr fear of civil war, and the taniiue, alone carried Paris on Versailles. If particular instigators, which the most interested in proving the fact have left doubtful, contributed to produce the commotion, they clianged neither its direction nor its object. This event de- stroyed the ancient regime of the Court, it took 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." — Minuet. * "The day of the King's entrance into Paris was the first of the emigration of the noblesse — a fatal example of defection, wliich, being speedily followed by the inferior nobility, ])roduced the most disastrous conserj^uences. Put it was the same in all the subsequent changes of the Kevolution. The royalist leaders, always the first to propose violent measures, Avere at the same time unable to support them when opposed ; they diminished the sympath)'' of the world at their fall from so high a rank, by showing that they were unworthy of it." — Alison. t "At this epoch the extremes on the liberal side were Duport, Barnave, and Lameth, who formed a triumvirate, whose opinions were prepared by Duport, supported by Barnave, and wdiose measures were directed by Alexandre Lameth. This party placed itself at once in a position a little in advance of that at which the Revolution had arrived. The 14th of July had been the triumph of the middle class ; the constituent was its assembly ; the national guard was its armed force ; the mayoralty its popular power. Mirabeau, Lafayette, and Bailly applied themselves to this class, and were, the one its orator, the other its general, and the third its magistrate." — 3lignet. 1 00 HIST OR Y OF oct. 1789 believed. The conspirators had intended to remove the King, and even to put liim to deatli, said the boldest calumniators. The Due d'Orleans, they added, had aspired to be lieutenant of the kingdom, and JMirabeau minister. As none of these plans had succeeded, Lafayette, appearing to have thwarted them by his presence, was regarded as the sa^'iour of the King, and the conqueror of tlie Due d'Orleans and Mirabeau, The Court, which had not yet had time to become ungrateful, ac- knowledged Lafayette to l^e its preserver, and the power of tlie general at this momt^nt seemed immense. The hot-headed patriots were incensed at it. and began already to mutter the name of Cromwell. Mirabeau, who, as we shall presently see, had no connection with the Due d'Orleans, was jealous of Lafayette, and called him Cromwell Grandison. The aristo- cracy seconded these distrusts, and added to them its own calumnies. Lafayette, however, was determined, in spite of all obstacles, to uphold the King and the constitution. For this puq^ose he resolved, in the lirst place, to remove the Due d'Orleans, whose presence gave occasion to many reports, and might furnish, if not the means, at least a pretext, for dis- turbances. He had an interview with the Prince, intimidated him by his firmness, and obliged him to withdraw. The King, who was in the scheme, feigned, with his usual Aveakness, to be forced into this measure ; and writing to the Due d'Orleans, he told him that it was absolutely necessary for him or M. de Lafayette to retire ; that in the state of opinions, the choice was not doubtful ; and that in consecpience he gave him a commission for England. We have since been informed that M. de Montmorin, minister for foreign affairs, in order to rid himself of the ambition of the Due d'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 Due de Brabant.* His friends, wdien apprized of this resolu- tion, were indignant at his weakness. More ambitious than he, they would have persuaded him not to eom])ly. Tliey went to Mirabeau, and entreated liim to denounce in the tribune the violence which Lafayette was committing against the l?rince. Mirabeau, already jealous of the general's popularity, sent word to liim and to tlie Duke, that he would denounce botli of them in the tribune if the departure for England should take place. The Due d'Orleans was shaken ; a fresh summons from Lafayette decided him ; and Mirabeau, on receiving in the Assembly a note acquainting him with the retreat of the Prince, exclaimed in vexation, '' He is not worth the trouble * Sec Dumouriez's Memoirs. OCT. 1789 TEE FRENCH REVOLUTION. loi that is taken about him."* This expression and many others equally inconsiderate have caused him to be frequently accused of being one of the agents of the Due d'Orleans ; but this he never was. His straitened circumstances, the imprudence of his language, his familiarity with the Due d'Orleans, though indeed he treated everybody in the same manner, his proposal relative to the Spanish succession, and lastl3% his opposition to the departure of the Duke, could not but excite suspicions ; it is nevertheless true that ^lirabeau had no paity, nay. that he had no other aim but to destroy tlie aristocracy and arbitrary power. Tlie authors of tliese suppositions ought to have known that Mirabeau was at this time under the necessity of borrowing the most trilling sums, which would not have been the case if he had been the agent of a Prince immensely rich, and who is believed to have been almost ruined by his partisans. ]\Iirabeau had already foreboded the speedy dissolution of the State. A conversation with an intimate friend, which lasted a whole night, in the ]mrk of Versailles, caused him to decide on adopt- ing 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 immovable 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 clumsil}^ managed, and without the delicacy requisite towards a man of great pride, and desirous of retaining his popularity, in default of the esteem which he did not yet possess. Malouet, a friend of Necker, and connected with Mirabeau, wished to bring them into communication. ]\rirabeau had fre- quently declined this,t being certain that he could never agree * I have already shown that there was scarcely any connection whatever between Mirabeau and the Due d'Orlcans. Here follows a key to the signi- fication of the celebrated expression, "(V^'. . . /. . . nc vu'rite }as la peine qiCon se donnc pour lui." The constraint exercised b}' Lafayette over tlie Due d'Orleans indisposed the popular party, and irritated above all the friends of the Prince who was doomed to exile. The latter conceived the idea of lettin<:^ loose ]\Iirabeau against Lafayette by taking advantage of the jealousy of the oiator against the genei-al. Lauzun, a friend of the Duke's, went one evening to ]\Iira- beau, to urge hiin to take up the subject the very next morning. Mirabeau, wlio often gave way to persuasion, was about to yield, when his friends, more vigilant than himself over his own conduct, begged him not to stir. It was therefore resolved that he should not speak. Next morning, at the opening of the sitting, news arrived of the departure of the Due d'Urleans ; and Mirabeau, who owed him a grudge for his compliance to Lafayette, and bethought him of the useless eftbrts of his friends, exclaimed, " Cc J. . . /. . nc nu'ritc pas hi pjclnc qu'on se donnc pour Inl." t Messrs. Malouet and Bertrand de Molleville have not hesitated to assert the contrary ; but the fact here advanced is attested by witnesses of the highest credibility. I o 2 HIS TOR Y OF oct. 1789 with the minister. He nevertheless assented. Maloiiet intro- duced him, and the incompatibility of the two characters was still more strongly felt after this interview, in which, accord- ing to the admission of all present, Mirabean displayed the sn]3eriority which he had in pri\'ate life, as well as in the tribune. It was reported that he had manifested a wish to be bought, and that, as Necker made no overture, he said on going awa3^ " The minister shall hear of md' This, again, is an inter- pretation of tlie parties, but it is false. ]\[alouet had proposed to Mirabeau, who was known to be satisfied with the libertv required, 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 intermediate agent, ex])lained that no sacrifice of principles would be obtained from Mirabeau ; but that if tlie government would adhere to the constitution, it would find in him a staunch sup]:)orter ; that as to the condi- tions, they were dictated by his situation ; that it was requisite, even for the interest of those who wished to employ him, that that situation should be rendered honourable and independent — in other words, that his debts should be ]iaid ; that, finally, it was necessary to make him attached to the new social order, and without actually giving him the ministry, to hold out hopes of it at some future time.* The negotiations were not entirely concluded till two or three months afterwards, that is, in the first months of i/QO.-f- Historians unacquainted with these * In Miiiiheau, as in all superior men, much littleness was united with mucli greatness. He had a lively imagination, which it was requisite to amuse witli hopes. It was impossible to give him the ministry without destroj'ing 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 for his imagination. Those, therefore, who had placed themselves between him and the Court recommended that at least the hope of ^ portfolio should be left him. However, the personal interests of Mirabeau were never the subject of particular mention in the various communications which took place ; nothing, in fact, Avas ever said about money or favours, and it was difficult to make Mirabeau under- stand what the Court wished to convey to him. For this pur]30se a very ingenious method was suggested to the King. Mirabeau had so bad a reputation that few persons would have been willing to serve as his colleagues. The King, addressing M. de Llancourt, for whom he had a particular friendship, asked him, if, in order to render him service, lie would acce])t a ]tortfolio in company with Mirabeau. M. de Liancourt, devoted to the monarch, replied, that lie wiis ready to do what- ever the good of his service retiuired. This question, which was soon reported to the orator, filled him with satisfaction, and he no longer doubted that he should be aiqiointed minister as soon as circumstances permitted. t "Disgusted witli the fickleness of the multitude, Mirabeau had long made secret advances to tlie constitutional party, and entered into correspondence with tlie King, for the ])urpose of restraining tlie further progress of the Revolution. He received for a short time a pension of 20,000 francs, ur ^800 a month, first OCT. 1789 THE FRENCH JIEVOLUTIOX. 103 particulars, and misled by the perseverance of Mirabeaii in opposing the government, have assigned a later period to this treaty. It was, liowever. nearly concluded at the commencement 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 far greater patriotic austerity. Apprized of the negotiations which were in progress, they accredited the rumour alreadv circulated, that the ministry was about to be conferred on him, in r)rder that they might thus deprive him of the means of acce])ting 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 tlie 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, there- fore, to give a consultive voice to the ministers. The popular party, in alarm, opposed tli(' motion without any reasonable motive, and appeared to ha^'e a dread of ministerial seductions. But its apprehensions were absurd ; for it is not by their public communications with tlie chambers that the ministers usually corru]:)t the national representation. Mirabeau 's motion was negatived, and Lanjuinais, pushing rigour still further, proposed to forbid the existing deputies tt :» accept the ministry. A violent debate ensued. Though the motive of these propositions was known, it was not avowed ; and 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 pernicious to the State ; that he sup^Kirted the motion, on condition that the ministry should be interdicted, not to all the present deputies, but only to M. de Mirabeau, deputy of the seneschal- ship of Aix. His frankness and boldness were of no awail, and the motion was unanimously adopted. We have seen how the State was divided between the emi- grants, the Queen, the King, and different popular chiefs, such as Lafayette, Mirabeau, Barnave, and Lameth. No decisive event like that of the. I4tli of July or the 5th of October was possible for a long time to come. It was requisite that fresh contrarieties should exasperate the C^turt and the peo]:)le, and produce a signal rupture. The Assembly had removed to Paris, after repeated assur- ances of tranquillity on the part of the commune, and the promise of entire liberty in their votes. J\[ounier and Lally- from tlie Comte d'Artois, ami afterwards from the King ; but it was not con- tinued till the time of hi.s death, from linding that ho was not so pliant as the Court jtarty expected." — Aliaon. I o 4 HIST on Y OF ocT. 1789 Tollendal, indignant at the events of the 5tli and 6th of October, had resigned their seats, sa3dng that they would not be either spectators of, or accompUces in, tlie crimes of the factious. Tliey must have regretted this desertion of the pubhc welfare, es'iecially when the\^ saw Maury and Cazales, after seceding from the Assend^ly, soon return to it, and courageously support to the end the cause winch they had espoused. Mounier, retiring to Dauphine, assembled the States of the province ; but a decree soon caused tliem to be dissolved without any resistance. 'Phus Mounier and Lally, who, at the period of the junction of the orders, and of tlie oath at the tennis-court, had been the lieroes of the people, were no longer held in any estimation by them. The parliaments had been first outstripped b}' tlie popular power ; so had Mounier, Lally, and Necker been after them ; and so many others were very soon destined to be. The dearth, the exaggerated but nevertheless real cause of the disturbances, gave occasion also to a crime. A baker named Francois was murdered l^y some brigands. Lafayette succeeded in securing the culprits, and delivered them up to the Ohatelet, which was invested with an extraordinary juris- diction over all offences relatis^e to the Eevolution. Here Besenval, and all those who were accused of having a hand in the aristocratic conspiracy foiled on the 14th of July, were under trial. The Chatelet was authorized to try according to new forms. Till the introduction of the trial by jury, which was not yet instituted, the Assembly had ordered publicity, the contradictory defence, and all the measures which operated as safeguards to innocence. The murderers of Francois were condemned, and tranquillity was restored. Upon this occasion Lafayette and Bailly proposed the adoption of martial law. The motion, though strongly opposed by Robespierre, who thenceforward showed hiuiself a warm partisan of the peo])le and the poor, was nevertheless ap])roved by the majority. I3y virtue of this law, the mmiicipalities ^vere responsible i'or the public trancjuillity ; in case of disturj^ance, they were directed to require the aid of the regular troops or the militia ; and they were enjoined, after three earnings, to em]')loy force against seditious assemblages. A committee of search was established in the commune of Paris and in the National Assembly, to look after the numerous enemies wh()Se machinations crossed each other in all directions. All these measures were not more than sufficient to control the host of adxersaries leag-ued against the new revolution. Tlie f(.)rmation of the constitution was prosecuted with NOV. 1 7 8 9 THE FRENCH EE VOL UTIOK i o 5 activity. The feudal system had been abolished ; but there was still wanting a last measure for destroying those great bodies which had been enemies constituted in the State ao-ainst the State. The clergy 2:)ossessed immense property. It had been c^jnf erred o\\ thnm by princes as feudal grants, or b)" the pious by way of legacy. If the propert}' of individuals, the fruit and oly'cct of their labour, ought to be respected, that which had b(;('n gi\'('n to bodies for a certain purpose might have another destinatirai assimied to it b\' the law. It was for the ser\dce of religion, or at least upon this pretext, that it had been bestowed ; religion being a public service, the law had a right to pro\ide for it in a totally different manner. The Abbe Maury here displayed his imperturbal^le spirit : he gave the alarm to tlie landed proprietors, threatened them with speedy spoliation, and declared that the provinces were sacri- ficed to the stockjobbers of the capital. His sophistry was singular enough to be recorded. It was to pay the public debt that the property of the clergy was dis]:)osed of ; the creditors were the great capitalists of Paris ; the property which was sacrificed to them was in the provinces : hence the bold reasoner concluded that it was sacrificinsr the countrv to the capital ; as if the country were not, on the contrary, a gainer by the new division of those immense estates hitherto reserved for the luxury of a few indolent clnn'chmen. All these efl"orts were useless. The Bishop of Autun, the author of the proposal, and Thouret, the deputy, demolished these vain sophisms.* The x\ssembly was proceeding to resolve that all the possessions of the clergy belonged to the State ; the opposition, however, still insisted on the question of pro- perty. They were told, that if they were proprietors, the nation had a right to make use of their property, since this * "Talleyrand, Bislioj) of Autun, proposed to the cleri,^y to renounce the property of the ecclesiastical benefices in favour of the nation, which would employ it in the support of the altars and the payment of its debt. He proved the justice and the propriety of this measure ; he showed the great advantages which would result from it to the State. Tlie clergy struggled against this jtro- position, but it was carried on the 2nd of December. From that moment the hatred of tlie clergy to the Revolution broke forth. It had been less intractable than the noblesse at the commencement of the States-general, in the hope of preserving its wealth ; afterwards it showed itself not less opposed to the new regime.'' — Ml(/n(t. "M. de Talleyrand is the only bishop ever appointed liy the choice, and at the rec[uest of the clergy of France. He was then Abb(^ de Perigord, and agent of the clergy ; but, contrarv 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, expressive of their astonishment that the Abbe de Perigord was not made a bishop ; and it was in consequence of this indication that the King at last gave him the bishopric of Autun." — Memoirs of L(ifayclU\ io6 JirSTOEY OF noy. 1789 kind of property liacl frecpiently been employed in cases of emergency for the service of the State. This tliey did not denv. Taking" advantas'e of their assent, Mirabeau then moved that for the words helov;/ to, should be substituted, arc at the disposal of, the State ; and the discussion was instantly termi- nated bv a efreat maioritv. Tlie Assemblv thus destroyed the formidable pcjwer of the clergy and the luxury of the high dio'nitaries of the order, and secured those immense financial resources which so long upheld the Eevolution. 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 recognize 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. Carr^dnp* its foiecast still farther, it established a difference between the wealthy orders and the mendicant orders, and pro]:)ortioned the salary of botli to their former condition. It pursued tlie same course in regard to pensions ; and when Camus the Jansenist, desirous of returning to the evangelical simplicity, proposed to reduce all ])ensions to one very low standard, the Assembly, on the recommendation of Miiabeau, reduced them propoitionably to their actual value, and suitably to the former state of the receivers. It was impossible to carry attention to ])revious habits to a greater length, and in this consists the real res^'pect 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 Mas much bolder in matters relating to the constitution. The prerogatives of the great powers had been fixed : the question now was, the division of the territory of the kino-dom. It liad alwavs been divided into provinces, successively united with ancient Prance. These provinces, differing from one another in laws, privileges, and manners, formed a most heterogeneous whole. Sieyes"^ con- * " Sirycs was one of tlioso iiicii wlio in a,i;cs oT cntliusiasin found a sect, and in an a,uo of intfdli.ujence exercisu tlio ascendant of a powerful understand- ing. Solitude and philosopliic speculation had ripened it ior a happy moment ; Ids ideas were new, vigorous, various, l)ut little systematic. Society had in ])articular been the object of his examination ; he had followed its progress, and decomposed its machinery. The nature of government a])))eared to him less a question of right than a question of epoch. Although cool and dclil)eratc, Sieyes had the ai'dour wliich inspires tlie investigation of truth, and the fearlessness to DEC. 1789 THE FnENCH BE VOL UTIOK i o 7 ceived the idea of blendiDP- them too-ether by a new division, which should annihihate the ancient demarcations, and introduce the same Laws and the same spirit int(» all parts of the kingdom. This was accomplislied by the division into departments. These were divided into districts, and tlie districts into munici]ialities. In all these degrees t\\v principle of representation was admitted. The departmental administration, that of the district, and that of the communes, wtn-e assigned to a deliberative conncil and to an exrcnti\>' council ; both were elective. These various authorities depended the one on the other, and they had the same powers throughout their respective jurisdictions. The department made the assessments of the taxes upon the dis- tricts, the districts upon the communes, and the commune upon indi\'iduals. The Assembly tlien fix(?d the quality of a citizen enjoying political rights. It rec[uired the age of tw^-nty-five years, and the payment of contributions to the amount oi rnie silver mark. Every man wh<» combined these conditions had the title of acti^'e citizen, and those who did not, styled themselves passive citizens. These extremely sim]">le denrauinations were turned into ridicule ; for it is names that people lay hold of when they want to depreciate things ; but they were natural, and aptly ex- pressed their object. The active citizen concurred in elections, either for the formation of the administrations, or for that of the Assembly. The elections of the deputies had two degrees. No specific condition was required tr» constitute eligibility ; for, as it was observed in the Assembly, a man is an elector by his existence in society, and he must be eligible from tlie mere confidence of the electors. These operations, interrupted by a thousand incidental dis- cussions, were nevertheless prosecuted with great ardour. The right side (the ]iarty of the iiobility and clergy) only contributed by its obstinacy to im]iede them, the moment oppr)rtunity offered to contest any portion of influence with the nation. The popular deputies, on the contrary, though forming several parties, acted insist on its promulgation ; thu.s lie was absolute in lii.s notions, despising the ideas of others because he found tliem incomplete, and in liis eyes, only the half- truth, which was error. Contradiction irritated him ; he was little communi- cative ; he Avould have wished to make himself thorouf^hly understood, but he could not succeed with all the world. His discijiles transmitted his systems to others — a circumstance which gave him a certain air of mysteriousness, and rendered him the object of a sort of adoration. Ho had the authority which complete political science bestows, and the constitution could have sprung from his head, all armed like the Minerva of Jupitei', or the legislation of the ancients, if in our times every one had not wished to assist in it, or to judge of it. Never- theless, with some modilications, his plans Avere generally adopted, and he had in the committee far more disciples than fellowdabourers." — Mifjnd. io8 HTSTORY OF dec. 1789 in concert, or differed witliont animosity, agreeably to their private opinions. It was easy to perceive that among them conviction predominated over party considerations. Thouret, Mirabeau, Dnport, Sieyes, Oamiis, Ohapelier, were seen alter- nately uniting and dividing, according to tlieir opinion, in each discussion. As for thf. members of the nobility and clergy, they never appeared but in party discussions. If the parlia- ments had issu(^d decrees against the Assembly, if deputies or writers had insulted it, they then came forward, ready to support them. Iliev su]i]i()rted also the military commandants against the peo])le, the slave-traders against tlie negro slaves ; they were against the admission of Jews and IVotestants to the enjoyment of the common rights. Lastly, when CTenoa declared against France, on account of the enfranchisement of Corsica, and the union of that island with the kingdom, they were in favour of Genoa against France. In short, aliens, indifferent to all beneficial discussions, not listening to them, but convers- ing among themselves, they never rose but when there were rights or liberty to be refused.* As we have already observed, it was no longer possible to attempt any great cons])iracy in favour of the King, since the aristocracy was put to llight. and the Court was encompassed by the Assembly, the people, and the national militia. Partial movements were theref(^re all tliat the malcontents could attempt. They fomented the discontent of the officers who adhered to the former order of things ; while the soldiers, having everything to gain, inclined to the new. Violent quarrels took place between the army and the populace : the soldiers frequently ga\'e up their officers to the mob, who murdered them ; at other times, these mutual jealousies were happily appeased, and all again became cjuiet, when the com- mandants of towns could conduct themselves with any address, and had taken the oath of fidelitv to the new constitution. The clergy had inundated Brittany with protestations against the alienation of its pro])erty. Attem]:)ts were made to excite a remnant of religious fanaticism in the provinces, where the ancient superstition still prevailed. The parliaments were also employed, and a last trial was made of their autho]ity. Their vacation liad been p]-orogued by the Assembly, because it did not wisli to have any discussion with them during the interval that should elapse before it could dissolve them. The chambers oF ^'acation administered justice in their absence. At Rouen, at Nant(^s, at Uennes, tliey passed resoluticms, in which they deplored the ruin of the ancient monarchy and the violation of See Appendix S. JAN. I790 THE FIIENCH REVOLUTION. T09 its laws ; and ^vithout mentioning the Assembly, tliey seemed to point to it as the cause of all the prevailing evils. They were called to the bar. and delicately reprimanded. That of E-ennes, as the most culpable, was declared incapable of ful- filling its functions. That of Metz had insinuated that the King was not free. Such, as we have already observed, was the policy of the discontented : as the}^ could not make use of the King, the}" sought to represent him as in a state of restraint, and for this reason they were desirous oF annulling all the laws to W'hich he appeared to assent, lie seemed himself to second this policy. He would not recall his life-gnards, who were dis- missed on the 5 til and 6th of October, and caused the duty about his person to be performed by the national militia, among whom he knew that he was safe. His intention was to a]:)pear to be a captive. The commune of Paris foiled this too petty artifice by soliciting the King to recall his guards, which he refused to do upon frivolous pretexts, and through the medium of the Queen.'"' The year 1 790 had just commenced, and a general agitation began to be perceptible. Three tolerably quiet months had passed since the 5th and 6th of October, and the commotion seemed to be breaking out anew. Violent storms are always followed by calms, and these calms by pett}^ gusts, which gradually become more and more ^ehement. These disturb- ances were laid to the charge of the clergy, the nobility, the Court, and even of England, who directed her ambassador to justify her conduct. The paid crtmpanies of the national guard were t]iemselM\s infected with tliis o'eneral discontent. Some soldiers assembled in the Champs Elysees, and demanded an * Tlie question of the recall of the Kind's ,i(uards furnished occasion for an anecdote which deserves to be recorded. The (,>ueuu complained to M. de Lafa- yette that the King was not free, and, in proof of this, she alleged that the duty of the palace was done by the national guard, and not 1)y the life-guards. I\I. de Lafayette immediately asked her if slie should be gratiiied by the recall of the latter. The (^>ueen at hrst hesitated to answer ; Ijut she durst not refuse the olfer made by the general to bring about their recall. He instantly repaired to the municipality, which, at his instigation, presented a formal petition to the King to recall his life-guards, offering to share with them the duty of the palace. '' The King and Queen were not displeased with this solicitation ; but they Avere soon rendered sensible of its consequences, and those who were de- sirous that they should not appear to be free induced tlieni to refuse their com- pliance. It was nevertheless embarrassing to assign a motive for their refusal ; and the Queen, to whom difficult commissions were frequently allotted, was directed to tell l\. de Lafayette that the proposal of the municipality was not acceded to. The motive which she alleged was, tliat the King would not expose the life-guards to the risk of being murdered. jM. de Lafayette had just met one of them walking in uniform in the Palais Royal. He mentioned this fact to the Queen, who was still more embarrassed, Itut persisted in the determination which she was charged to express. 1 1 o HIS TOR Y OF jan. 1790 increase of ]-)ay. Lafayette, present everywhere, hastened to the spot, dispersed and punished tliem, and restored quiet among his troojis. wlio were still faithful, notwithstanding these sliglit interruptions of discipline. There were great rnniours <>f a plot against the Assembly and the miniici]^ality, tlie supposed ringleader of which was the Marquis de Fa\Tas.* Hi:" was ajyprehendcd, with circum- stances of public notoriety, and sent to the (Jhatelet. It was immediately reported that JBailly and Lafayette were to have been assassinated ; that twelve hundred horse were ready at A^ersailles to carry off the King ; that an army composed of Swiss and l-'iedmontese was to receive him and to march to Paris. Tlie alarm s]:>read. It was added that Favras was the secret agent of tlic highrst 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. Monsieur, alarmed at the agitation which ]3revailed, repaired to the Hotel de \ ille, protested against the insinuations thrown out against him, exphiined his connection with Favi'as, appealed to his popular sentiments formerh' manifested in the Assembly of the Notables, and desired that he might be judged, not from public rumours, but from his known and unswerving patrio- tism.! His speech was received with shouts of applause, and the crowd escorted him back to liis residence. The trial of Favras was continued. This Favras had run all over Europe, married a foreign princess, and been devising plans for retrieving his fortunes. He had been engaged in them on tlie 14th of July, on the 5tli and 6th of October, and in the last months of 1789. Tlie witiu?sses \\\\o accused him furnished precise ]:)articulars of his last scheme. The murder of Laill}^ and Lafayette, and the abduction of the King, * fice Appendix T. t The speecli of Monsieur at tlie Hotel de Ville contains a passage too impor- tant not to be quoted here : — " As to my private opinions," said this august personage, "I sliall speak of them with confidence to my tidlow-citizens. Ever since the day that in the secoml Assembly of Notables I declareesen\'al and the fjther persons im]ilicated in the plot of the I4t]i of July: ]nd3lic opinion was dissatis- lied. LafaA'ette nevertheless enconrao-ed the p-entlemen of tlie Uhatelet, exhorted them to be just, and assured tliem that their sentence, be it what it mio-]it, should be executed. This trial revived the sns]ncions against the ( 'Onrt. These new scliemes caused it to be deemed incorrigible ; for even in the midst of Paris it was still seen conspiring. The King was therefore advised to take a decisi\'e step, which should satisfy public opinion. On the 4tli of February 1790 the Assembly was sur- prised to perceive some alterations in the arrangement of the hall. The ste])s of the bureau were co\'ered with a carpet sprinlcled with fleurs-de-lis. Tlie arm-chair of the secretaries was lowered; the president was standing beside the seat whicli he usually occupied. "Here is the Xing!" suddenly exclaimed tlie doorkeep(MS ; and Louis X^'I. in- stantly entered the hall. Tlie Assembly rose at his a]i- pearance. and he was recei^^ed with a]'>plause. A concourse of spectators, quickly collected, iilled the tribunes, thronged all paits of the hall, and awaited the royal sp(n:^ch with the utmost impatience. Louis XA I., standing, addressed the seated Assembly: he beo'an \)\ rel'errino- to the troiil)les to which France liad fallen a prey, the elforts wliich he had made to allay them, and to supply the wants of the ])eop]e ; he re- capitulated the proceedings of the repres(Mitati\'es. observing that he had attempted tlie same things in the pro\ incial assemblies ; lastly, he showed that he had himself formerly the very same wishes which had I'ust been realized. He added, that he deemed it his duty to unite more particularly with the representatives of the nation at a moment when decrees destined to establish a new organization in the kingd(.»m had been submitted to him. He would promote, he said, with all liis power the success of that vast organization ; every attem])t hostile to it should be held culpable, and opposed with all his means. At these words the hall rang with plaudits. The King continued ; and referring to his own sacrifices, he ex- liorted all those who had been losers to take exam]:>le from his resignation, and to indemnify themselves for their losses by the blessings which the new constitution promised to France. But wlien, after vowing to defend that constitution, 1 1 2 HmrOBY OF FEB. I 790 he added, that he would do still more, and that, in concert with the Queen, he would earl 3^ predispose the mind and heart of his son in favour of the new order of things, and accustom him to seek happiness in the happiness of the IVench, cries of attachment burst forth from all quarters — all hands were out- stretched towards the monarch, all eves looked for the mother and her son, all voices asked for them : the transpoit was universal. At lengi^h the King concluded his speech by re- commending peace and concord to his good ijcople, hij whom lie is assured that he is loved, uilwn those around liim vnsli to ehcer him uj) under his trovMles.^' At these last words all present burst f 01 til into exclamations of gratitude. The ])resident made a short reply, in which he adverted to the disturbed feelings which prevailed in all hearts. The Prince was con- ducted back to the Tuileries by the multitude. The Assembly voted thanks to him and to the Queen. A new idea was started ; Louis X\l. had engaged to uphold the constitution ; it was iittiug 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, etnd to the King; emd to uphold loith cdl his ijoiver the eon- stitution elcereed hy the Nationcd. Assembli/, etnd aecejjteel hij the King. The supplementary members, the deputies of commerce, desired to take the oath in their turn ; the tribunes and the galleries followed their example, and on all sides nothing was to be heard but the words, / sivear it. The oath was repeated at the Hotel de Ville, and by commune after commune throughout France. Kejoicings were ordered, which a]i]:)eared 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 jiart of the people ; but the very same evening, whilst Paris was in a blaze with bonfires kindled to ceh-brate the happy event, the Court had betaken itself again to its ill -humour, and the popular deputies experienced from it a rece]:>tion wholly different from that which was reserved for the noble de]3uties. 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 for this purpose it was recpiisite that his intentions should not only be proclaimed to the Assembly, but that they should be manifested by his minutest actions ; that he ought to show displeasure at every ex]:)ression in the least degree equivocal * See Appendix U. FEB. 1 790 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. i 1 3 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 oblig- ing it to have recourse incessantly to the public opinion. In vain did Lafayette repeat these prudent counsels with respect- ful earnestness : the Kine: received his letters, and thouo-ht him an honest man ; the Queen repulsed them with petulance, and even seemed to be irritated by the res]-»ect paid by the general. She gave a much better reception to Mirabeau, who possessed more influence, but was certainly a man of less irreproachable character than Lafayette. The communications of Mirabeau with the Court still con- tinued. He had even kept up an intercourse with Mon- sieur, whose o^^inions rendered him more accessible to the popular party, and he had repeated to him what he had never ceased to tell the Queen and M. de Montmorin, that the monarchy could not be saved unless by liberty. Mirabeau at length came to terms with the Court by means of an intermediate agent. He declared his principles in a kind of i^rofession of faith ; he engaged not to swerve from them, and to support the Court so long as it should follow the same line. A considerable salary was given to him in return. Morality indeed condemns such treaties, and insists that a man ought to do his duty for the sake of dut}^ alone. But was this selling himself ? A weak man would no doubt have sold himself by sacrificing his principles ; but the mighty Mirabeau. 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 for a high price mean talents and a cowardly conscience, Mirabeau, inflexible in his principles, combated by turns his own party and the Court, as if he had not expected popularity from the former, or the means of existence from the latter. To such a ]:)oint was this opposition carried, that historians, unable to believe him an ally of the Court which he combated, have not fixed the date of his treaty earlier than the year 1791, though it was concluded in the very first months of 1790. j\[irabeau saw the Queen, charmed her by his superiority, and experienced from her a reception that flattered him exceedingly.* That extraordinary man had a keen relish for all pleasures — for those of vanity as well as for those of the passions. It was * See Appendix N. VOL. I, 8 "^ 1 14 HISTORY OF FEB. 1 790 necessary to take him with his strength and his foibles, and to employ him for the common cause. Besides Lafayette and Mirabean, 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 infatuation, and more experience in business. Having retired to Metz, where he commanded a vast extent of frontier and a great part of the army, he strove to foment jealousies between his troo])S and the national guard, in order that he might keep his soldiers steady to the Court, f Placed there on the w^atch. he scared the popular party ; he seemed the general of the monarchy, as Lafayette was the general of the constitution. The aristocracy nevertheless displeased him, the weakness of the King disgusted him with the sei-vice, and he would have quitted it had he not been pressed by Louis XVI. to continue in it. Bouille was full of honour. After taking his oath, he thought of nothing but how to serve the King and the constitution. The Court therefore needed but to unite Lafayette, Mirabeau, 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, w^as ready to unite with all who were desirous of serving the King and the constitution ; but Mirabeau was jealous of Lafayette's power, dreaded his purity, which was so highly extolled, and seemed to regard it as a reproach. Bouille hated in Lafayette his enthusiastic character, and perhaps \dewed in him an irreproachable enemj^ ; he preferred Mirabeau, whom he deemed more manageable, and less rigorous in his political creed. It was for the Court to unite these three men by removing tlieir particular motives for kee]ung aloof from each other. But there was only one bond of union — a free monarchv. The Court oue'ht there- fore to have frankly resigned itself to its only course, and to have followed it up with all its might. But the Court, ever unsteady, received Lafayette coldly without repulsing him; ];)aid Mirabeau, who lectured it from time to time; kept up Bouillc's dislike of the Revolution ; looked to Austria with hope ; and suffered the emigrants at Turin to take active measures. 8uch is the way with weakness. It strives to delude itself with hopes rather than to ensure success, and in this manner it ultimately ruins itself by * See Appendix W. f This he admits himself in his memoirs. FEB. 1 790 THE FRENCH UEVOL UTION. 1 1 5 exciting suspicions 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 neglected to do, wrote to Bouille, his kinsman, ex- horting him to serve the throne jointly with 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 anytliing 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 such important results, was therefore useless. The trial of Favras was concluded, and whether from fear or from a conviction of liis guilt, the Chatelet sentenced him to be hanged. Favras displayed in his last moments a firm- ness more worthy of a martyr than of an intriguer. He pro- tested 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 Yille, where he remained till night. The populace, eager to see a marquis hanged, impatiently awaited this exam^^le of equality in punishments. Favras related that he had held communica- tions with a high dignitary of the State, who had engaged him to dispose the public mind favourably towards the King. As this would have put him to considerable expense, the per- sonage in question had given him one hundred louis, which he had accepted. He affirmed that this was the whole extent of his crime ; and he mentioned no name. He asked, however, if the confession of names could save him. Not satisfied with the answer that was returned, "In that case," said he, "I will take my secret with me ; " and he walked with great firm- ness towards the place of execution. It was night : the Place and the gibbet itself were lighted up. The populace enjoyed the sight, delighted to find ecjuality even on the scaffold. It was to them a subject fr>r cruel jests ; and they ]:)arodied in various ways the execution of this unfortunate man. The body of Favras was delivered to his famih^ ; and fresh events soon caused his death to be forgotten alike by those who had punished and those who had employed him. The exasperated clergy continued to excite petty disturb- ances throughout France. The nobility relied much upon its influence among the people. So long as the Assembly had proceeded no further than by a decree to place ecclesi- astical pro^oerty at the disposal of the nation, the clergy had ii6 HISTORY OF mae. 1790 hoped that the decree would not be carried into execution ; and in order to render it useless, it proposed a variety of plans for supplpng the wants of the exchequer. The Abb(^ ^laury * had proposed a tax on luxury ; and the Abb(^ Salside had replied by moving that no ecclesiastic should possess an income exceeding one thousand crowns. The wealthy abb4 was silenced by such a proposal. On another occasion, in discussing the debt of the State, Cazales had proposed to investigate, not the titles of each credit, but the credit itself, its origin, and its motive ; which would have been renewing bankruptcy by the odious and worn-out expedient of cliaiiihres ardcntes. The clergy, inimical to the creditors of the State, to whom it deemed itself sacrificed, had supported the proposal, notwithstanding the strictness of its principles in regard to property. ]\Iaury had spoken with great warmth, and had even violated the respect due to the Assembly by saying to some of its members that they had only the courage of shame. The Assembly had taken offence at this expression, and thought of expelling him. But Mirabeau, who had reason to suppose that the attack was aimed at him. represented to his colleagues that each deputy belonged to his constituents, and that they had no right to exclude any individual. This moderation iDefitted real supe- riority. It was successful, and Maury was more severely punished by a reprimand than he would have been by ex- pulsion. All these expedients for putting the creditors of the State in the same condition as themselves were useless 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. The clergy, rendered desperate, then circulated wiitings among the people, and declared that the plan of tlie Eevolu- tionists 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 Laneniedoc that its principal communications were kept up. Calonne, so celebrated at the time of the Notables. f was the minister of the fugitive Court. The Court Avas split into t^^•o parties. The high nobility was solicitous to maintain its empire, and dreaded the interference of the provincial noblesse, and still more that of the bourgeoisie. In consecpience it would have recourse to none but foreign aid to re-establish the throne. Besides, to employ religion, as the emissaries of the provinces * Sec Ap[>endix X. t See Appendix Y. MAR. 1 7 90 TEE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 1 1 7 proposed to do, appeared ridiculous to men wlio had diverted themselves for a centurj^ ^vith the pleasantries of A^oltaire. The other party, composed of petty nobles and expatriated citizens, proposed 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 vindictixe nature of ci\'il war as an excuse for foreign interference. The latter maintained tliat the effu- sion of blood was inseparable from such wai', 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, how- ever, this Court had need of evervbody. the communications between Turin and the southern provinces were continued. It was determined to attack the devolution by foreign as well as l^y civil war, and to this end an attempt was made to awaken the ancient fanaticism of those countries.* The clerg^^ neglected no means of seconding this plan. The Protestants in those parts excited the envy of tlie Catholics. Tlie clergy took advantage of these dissensions, especially during the solemnities of Easter. At Montpellier, at Nimes, at Montauban, the old fanaticism was roused in all possible ways. Charles Lameth c<->mplained 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 ha^'e quitted the Assembly. The Bishop of Clermont threatened to do so, and a great number of ecclesiastics w^ere already on their legs and about to retire when Charles Lameth was called to order, and the tumult subsided. Meanwhile the sale of the possessions of the clergy w^as carried into execution. This was warmly resented l^y them, and they omitted no occasion of manifesting their indignation. Dom Gerle. a Carthusian, a man perfect!}" sincere in his religious and patriotic sentiments, one da}^ desired permission to speak, and proposed that the Catholic religion should be declared the only religion of the State. A great number of deputies instantly rose, and were ready to vote the motion by acclamation, sapng that the Assembly had now an opportunity to clear itself from the charge preferred against it of attacking the Catholic religion. Still, what was the tendenc}^ of such a motion ? It either aimed at giving a privilege to the Catholic religion, and no religion ought to liave any ; or it was the * *S'ec A}j]iend.ix Z. 1 1 8 HISTORY OF apeil i 790 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. Accord- ingly, in spite of the efforts of the nobility and clergy, the debate was adjourned to the following day. An immense crowd collected. Lafayette, apprized that evil-disposed per- sons intended to excite disturbance, had doubled the guard. The discussion commenced. An ecclesiastic threatened the Assembly with malediction. Maury 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 Catliolic religion at the very moment when it was making the cost of its worship an item in the public expenditure. He proposed, therefore, to pass to the order of the day. Dom Gerle was persuaded to withdraw his motion, and excused himself for having excited such a tumult. M. de la Kochefoucauld submitted a motion dif- ferently worded, wliich. 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, for it was not the left side that could be afraid of the people, and it was not liis own friends that Lafayette sought to protect. This appeal increased the tumult ; the discussion nevertheless con- tinued. In the course of the debate Louis XIV. was mentioned. "I am not suiprised," exclaimed Mirabeau, "that reference should be made to the reign in which the Edict of Nantes was revoked ; but consider that, from this tribune whence I address you, I see that fatal window where a king, the murderer of his subjects, mingling worldl)^ interests with those of religion, gave the signal for the massacre of St. Bartholomew ! " This terrible apostrophe did not put an end to the discussion. It lasted some time longer, and the motion of the Due de la Rochefoucauld was finally adopted. The Assembly declared that its sentiments were known ; but that out of regard for the liberty of conscience, it neither could nor ought to deliberate on the motion submitted to it. Scarcely had a few days elapsed before a new expedient was employed to threaten and to dissolve the Assembly. The new organisation of the kingdom was completed ; the people were about to be convoked to elect their magistrates, and it was con- ceived that they might as well choose at the same time new deputies instead of those who composed the Assembly then sitting. This plan, proposed and discussed before, had already been rejected. It was again brought forward in April 1790. APRIL 1790 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 1 1 9 Some of the instructions limited the powers to one year, and the deputies liad actually been nearly a year assembled. They had met in INlay 17S9. and it was now near the month of April 1790. Thougli tlie instructions had been annulled, and they had bound tliemsclves not to separate before the completion of the constitution, these men. for whom there was neither decree passed nor oatli taken, proposed to have other deputies elected, and to give up their places to them. Maury, charged to propose this measure, played his part with more assurance than ever, but with more address than usual. He a])pealed to the sovereignty of tlie people, and said that they could no longer put themselves in the place of the nation and prolong powers which were In it temporary. He asked by wliat riglit they had invested tliemselves with sove- reign attributes ; he insisted that tliis distinction between the legislative and constituent power was a chimerical distinction ; that a so\M-' reign convention could not exist unless in the absence of all government ; and that if tlie Assembly were that convention, it had r)nly to depose the King, and to declare the throne vacant. Loud cries interrupted these words and expressed tlie general indignation. Mirabeau then rose with dignity. "We are asked," said he, '"since what time the deputies of the people have become a National Convention. I answer, from the day when. Ending the entry to their seats encom]iassed by soldiers, they went and met in the first place where they could assemble, to swear to perish rather than to betray and abandon the rights of the nation. On that day the nature of our powers, whatever they were, was changed. Be the powers tliat we have exercised what they 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 antirpiity 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.' Gentlemen," added Mirabeau, addressing the deputies of the commons, "I swear that you have saved France ! " At this magnificent oath, says Ferrieres, the 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 election of new deputies. Thus was this new scheme frustrated, and the Assembly enabled to proceed with its labours. . Disturbances neverthe- less continued throughout France. The Commandant de Voisin was murdered by the people. The forts of Marseilles were 120 HISTORY OF may 1790 seized by tlie national guard. Commotions originating in a different spirit took place at Nimes and Montanban. Emis- saries from Turin had excited the Catholics ; they had delivered addresses in which they declared the monarchy in danger, and insisted that the Catholic religion should be declared the reli- gion of the 8tate. 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 had set themselves in motion to assist the patriots against the insurgents ; the combat had thus commenced, and the Comte 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 revolutionary ardour, an indiscreet opposition excited a fever, which repose might have reduced, and furnished the most vehement popular orators with pretexts. The violence of the clubs increased in consequence. That of the Jacobins, the off- spring of the Breton Club, at first established at Versailles, afterwards at Paris, surpassed the others in numbers, talents, and violence. Its sittings were frequented like those of the Assembly itself. Here met the principal popular deputies, and here the most obstinate of them found excitements. Lafayette, with a view to counteract this terrible influence, had combined with Bailly and the most enlightened men to form another club, called the Club of 1789, and subsequently that of the Feuillans. But the remedy was powerless. An assemblage of a hundred cool, well-informed persons could not attract the multitude, like the club of the Jacobins, where all the popular passions were allowed full scope. To shut up the clubs would have been the onlv course : but the Court had too little frank- ness, and excited too little mistrust, for the popular party to think of resorting to such an ex^Dcdient. 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 Eevolution began to attract the attention of foreign sovereigns ; its language was so lofty, so firm, 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 agitation ; but the success of the Assembly, MAY 1790 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 1 2 i its firmness, its unexpected constancy, and, above all, the pros- pect which it held forth to France and to all nations, could not fail to draw upon it both respect and hatred, and to engage the notice of Cabinets. Europe was then divided between two great hostile leagues — the Anglo-Prussian league on the one hand, and the imperial Courts on the other. Frederick William had succeeded the great Frederick on the throne of Prussia. Tliis prince, fickle and weak, renouncing the politics of his illustrious predecessor, had forsaken the alliance of France for that of England. United with the latter power, he 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 Kussia and Austria — then abandoned all those whom it had so ex- cited, 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 chivalrous Gustavus, Poland groaning under a former partition, and the l^orte smarting from Russian in- vasions. Tlie particular intention of England in this league was, without declaring war against France, to revenge herself for the assistance aiforded 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, without alienating the Turks, who reckoned upon her, and without losing her commercial preponderance in the Levant. On the other hand, by taking part in the war, she should lose the alliance of Russia, with which she had just concluded a most advantageous treaty, which ensured her sup- plies of timber and of all the articles that the North furnishes in abundance for the navy. Thus in either case France must sustain injury. Meanwhile England was equipping her forces, and preparing to employ them according to circumstances. Moreover, observing the derangement of the finances under the Notables, and the popular excesses under the (Jonstituent 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 France by means of internal disturbances than by arms. Hence she has always been charged with en- couraging our dissensions. This Anglo- Prussian league had occasioned some battles to be fought with doubtful success. Gustavus had extricated liimself like a hero from a i^osition into which he had brought himself like an adventurer. Holland, which had risen against I 2 2 HIS TOR Y OF MAY 1790 tlie Stadtliolder, had been again subjected to him by English intrigues and Prussian armies. England had thus skilfully deprived France of a powerful maritime alliance ; and the Prussian monarch, who soiiglit trium]:)]is 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 abr)ut to take up arms. Turkey had been beaten by Eussia. Meanwhile the death of Joseph 11. . Emperor of Austria, which happened in January 1790, had changed the aspect of things. He had been suc- ceeded by Leopold, that enlightened 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 the better, he emplo^^ed the resources of seduction, which had such power over the fickle imagination of I'rederick William. Representations were made to that prince, picturing the bless- ings of peace, the evils of war which liad so long pressed heavily upon his people, and lastly, the danger of the French Revolu- tion, which proclaimed such miscliievous principles. Ideas of absolute power were awakened within him ; he was even led to conceive hopes of chastising the Freiich Revolutionists, as he had chastised those of Holland. He suffered himself to be persuaded at the moment when he was about to reap the advantages of that league so boldly planned by his minister Hertzberg. It was in July 1790 that peace was signed at Reichenbach. In August, Russia made hers with Sweden, and then had to cope only with Poland, wliich was far from formidable, and the Turks, who were beaten at all points. We shall notice here- after 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 x\nglo-Prussian league threatened the two imperial Courts, and secretly injured France, as well as Spain, our constant and faithful ally, some Englisli vessels were seized by the Spaniards in Nootka Sound. Warm remonstrances were made, and followed up by a general armameTit in the English ports. Spain, appealing to treaties, immediately applied to France for assistance, and Louis XVI. ordered the ecjuipment of fifteen sail. England was accused of wishing cm this occa- sion to increase our embarrassments. The clubs of London, it is true, had several times comi^limented the National Assembly ; but the Cabinet left a few philanthropists to indulge in these philosopliic efl'usions, and was meanwhile paying, it is said, those astonishing agitators who a]:>peared everywhere, and gave so much trouble to the national guards of the kingdom. MAY 1790 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. i 2 3 The clistiirbaiices were still greater at the moment of the general armament, and people could not help perceiving a con- nection between the tlu^eats of England and the renewal of the commotions. Lafayette, in particular, who never spoke in the Assembly but on subjects which concerned the public tran- quillity, denounced fr(jm the tribune a secret influence. ''I cannot forbear directing the attention of the Assembly,'" said he, "to that new fermentation which manifests itself from Strasburg to Nimes, and from Brest to Toulon, and which the enemies of the people would in vain attribute to them, since it bears all the characteristics of a secret influence. If we talk of establishing de[)artments, the country is laid waste. If neigh- bouring powers begin to arm, disturbances immediately break out in our ports and in our arsenals." Several commandants had in fact been murdered, and either tlu'ough accident or design the best officers in our navv liad been sacrificed. The Ensrlish ambassador had been directed by liis Court to re]")el these im- putations. But every one knows what confidence is due to such messages. Calonne. too, had written to the Kiug,*' to justify England ; but (jalonne's testimony in favour of a foreign country was liable to suspicion. He urged to no purpose that every expense is known in a representative government, that even secret expenses are at least acknowledged as such, and that there was no item of that kind in the English budgets. Ex- perience has proved that even responsible ministers are never without money. The most tliat can be said is, that time, which reveals everything, has revealed nothing on this head, and that Necker, whose situation qualified him to judge, never believed in this secret influence. f The King, as we have 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 favourable reception to the message, but perceived tliat it involved a constitutional question, which it behoved it to resolve before it replied to the King. "The measures are taken." said Alexandre Lameth ; "our discussion cannot delay them ; we must therefore first decide whether the King or the Assembly shall be invested witli the right of making- peace and war." It was, in fact, almost the last important prerogative to be determined, and one of those which could not but excite the strongest interest. The imaginations of men were * See L'Armoire de Fer, No. 25, Letter from Calonne to the King, dated April 9, 1790. t See what Madame de Stael says in her Considerations sur la Rtvolution Franr^aisc. 1 24 HISTORY OF MAY 1 790 filled with the blunders of Courts ; and they were against leaving to 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 making 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 Mirabeau, who was said to have been gained by the Court, was known beforehand. The oppor- tunity was favourable for wresting from the orator his much- envied popularit}'. The Lameths were aware of this, and had charged Barnave to crush ]\Jirabeau. The right side drew back, as it were, and left the field clear for those two rivals. The discussion was awaited with impatience : it commenced. After several speakers had thrown out merely preliminary ideas, Mirabeau addressed the Assembly, and placed the question in a new light. War, according to him, is almost always unfore- seen. Hostilities commence before threats. The King, charged with the public safet3^ ought to repel them, and thus w^ar is begun before the Assembly has time to interfere. The same is the case with treaties. The King alone can seize the proper moment for negotiating, for conferring, for disputing, with other powers ; the Assembly can but ratify the conditions obtained. In either predicament, the King alone can act, and the Assembly approve or disapprove. Mirabeau therefore thought that the executive power should be held bound to pro- secute the hostilities commenced, and that the legislative power should, as the case might be. allow the war to continue, or demand peace. This opinion was applauded, because Mirabeau's opinion always was. Barnave nevertheless rose, and without noticing the other speakers, merely answered Mirabeau. He admitted that the sword is frequently drawn before the nation can be consulted ; but he maintained 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 j\lirabeau gave to the Assembly the right of disapprfjving the war and requiring peace ; Barnave, that of alike declaring both ; but in either case the decision of the Assembly was to \)v obligatory, and Barnave allowed it no more right than Mira- beau. Barnave was nevertheless applanded, and carried in triiim]:)h by the populace, and it was alleged that his adversary was sold. A pamphlet entitled "Great Treason of the Comte de Mirabeau " was hawked about the streets with loud cries. MAY 1790 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 125 The occasion was decisive ; every one expected an effort from the terrible champion. He demanded permission to reply, ob- tained it, ascended the tribune in the presence of an immense miiltitiide 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 Gornte elc Mirabeau. 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 yourself," said he to him; "you have in your opinion limited the King to the 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 recall you to our principles, which share the expres- sion of the national will between the Assembly and the King. ... In attributing it to the Assembly alone, you have trans- gressed against the constitution. I call you to order. . . . You answer not. ... I shall continue." No answer could in fact be given. Throughout a long reply Barnave remained exposed to these thundering apostro^^hes. Mirabeau answered him article by article, and demonstrated that Barnave had not given to the Assembly anything more than he had himself given to it ; but that by limiting the King to a mere notification, he had deprived him of his necessary concurrence in the expression of the national will. He con- cluded by reproaching Barnave with those culpable rivalries between men, who, he said, ought to live like true comrades in arms. Barnave had enumerated the partisans of his opinion. Mirabeau in his turn mentioned his. He pointed out among them those moderate men, the first founders of the constitution, and who talked to the French of liberty, whilst his base calumniators were sucking the milk of Courts (alluded to the Lameths, who had received favours 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 es- pousing any party, decided upon the impression of the moment. It was they who gave the victory to genius and reason, because they created a majority on which side soever they voted. Barnave would have replied ; the Assembly opposed his intention, and insisted that the cpiestion should be put to the vote. The decree 126 HISTORY OF may 1790 of Mivabeau, ably amended by Chapelier, had the preference, and was finally adopted, to the general satisfaction ; for these rivalries did not extend beyond the circle in which they originated, and the popular party conceived that it conquered jnst as well with Mirabean as with the Lameths. Tlie decree conferred on the King and the nation the right of making peace and war. To the King was assigned the dis- posal of the forces. He was to notif}^ the commencement of hostilities ; to call together the Assembly if it was not sitting, and to propose the decree of peace or war. The Assembly was to deliberate on liis express 23roposition, and the King was after- wards to sanction its deliberatirm. 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 established, excited sincere joy among the constitutionalists, and foolish hopes among the counter-revolutionists, who imagined that the public mind was about to change, and that this victory of Mirabeau's was to become their own. Lafayette, who on this occasion had joined Mirabeau, wrote on the subject to Bouille, held out to him hopes of tranquillity and modera- tion, and strove, as he always did, to reconcile him to the new order of things. The Assembly continued its financial labours. They con- sisted in disposing to the best advantage of the property of the clergy, the sale of which, long decreed, could not be prevented either by protests, or b}^ 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 con- siderable portion of the people who were not such ; lastly, to extinguish by the same o^^eration the debts of the State, and to restore order in the finances — such were the objects of the Assembly, and it was too sensible of their utility to be deterred by obstacles. The Assembly had already ordered the sale of Crown and Church property to the 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 all at once. Bailly proposed, in the name of the muni- cipality of Paris, a plan that was ably conceived, namely, to transfer tliese possessions to the municipalities, which should purchase them in a mass, for the puipose 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 immedi- ately, should give bills at a certain date, and the creditors of MA Y I 7 9 o THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. i 2 7 the State were to be paid with hons on communes, which they were required to pay off in succession. These hons, which in the discussion were called municipal paper, furnished the first idea of the assignats. In following up Bailly's plan, the Church property was in- vaded ; it was to be divided among the communes, and the creditors were to be brougiit nearer to their pledge, by accpiir- ing a claim upon the municipalities, instead of having a claim upon the State. The guarantees would therefore be augmented, since the pa^mient was to be brought nearer ; it would even depend upon the creditors to effect it themselves, since with these hons or assignats they could acquire a proportionable value in property put up to sale. Thus a great deal would have been done for them. But this was not all. They might not choose to convert their hons into land, either from scruples or from any other motive. They would then be obliged to kee]) their hons, which, as thev could not circulate like inonev- would be mere unpaid obligations. There remained but one more measure to be taken, which was, to give to these hons or obli- gations the faculty of circulation. They would then become really and truly money, and the creditors, being enabled to pay w\i\\ them, would be actually reimbursed. Another con- sideration was decisive. There was a scarcity of specie. This was attributed to the emigration, which carried a'ft'ay a great deal of ready money, to the payments that had to be made to foreigners, and lasth", to malevolence. The real cause was the want of confidence occasioned by the disturbances. Specie is ap])arent by the circulation. When confidence prevails, the activity of the exchange is extreme ; money moves about rapidly, is seen everywhere, and is believed to be more cou- siderable because it is more serviceable. But when political commotions create alarm, capital lauguishes, 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 creditors something better than a dead obligation, and the necessity of supplying a multitude of other urgent wants, caused the forced currency of money to be given to these hons or assignats. The ci'editor was thereby paid, since he could oblige others to take the paper which he 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. The assignats which should come in by this method were to be burnt ; thus the lands of the clergy 128 HmWRY OF MAY 1 790 would soon be distributed, and the paper suppressed. The assignats bore interest at so much per day, and accpiired value by remaining in the hands of those who held them. The clerp'v. viewino' tins measure as an instrument of exe- cution against its possessions, strongly opposed it. Its noble and other allies, adverse to ever^^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 revived. The comparison, however, was not just, because the value of Law's "|3aper-money de]:)ended on the profits to be gained by the India Company, while that of the assignats was founded on a territorial capital, real and easily convertible. Law had committed considerable 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 established, such errors could take place. Lastly, the amount of the assigniats created formed but a very small portion of the capital allotted to them. But it was true enough that paper, however safe, is not, like money, a reality, or according to Bailly's expression, " a physical actuality." Specie carries its own value along with it. Paper, on the contrary, requires one more o iteration, a purchase of land, a realization. It must therefore be below specie, and as soon as it is below it, money, which nobod}^ will give for paper, is hoarded, and at length disappears. If, moreover, abuses in the administration of the property, and in moderate issues of paper, destroy the proportion between the circulating medium and the capital, confidence vanishes ; the nominal value is retained, but the real value ceases ; he who gives this con- ventional money, robs him who receives it, and a great crisis ensues. All this was possible enough, and with more ex[ieri- ence would have appeared certain. As a financial measure, tlie issue of assignats was there Fore highly censurable ; but it was necessary as a political measure, for it supplied urgent wants, and divided property witliout the aid of an agrarian law. The Assembly, therefore, had no reason to hesitate ; and in spite of Mauiy and his partisans, it decreed four hundred millions of forced assignats with interest. Necker had long since lost the confidence of the King, the former deference of his colleagues, and the enthusiasm of the nation.* Engrossed by his calculations, he sometimes entered * " In passinf^ through Geneva the Fir.st Consul had an interview with M. Necker. I know not how it happened, but at the time he did not ypeak to me of this interview. However, I was curious to know what he thought of a man JUNE 1790 THE FBENCH RE VOL UTIOK i 2 9 into discussion with the Assembly. His reserve for extra- ordinaiy ex])enses occasioned a demand for the production of the red b(K.)k. the famous reecister. containino-, it was said, a hst of all tlie secret disbursements. Louis XA I. compUed with paiii, and caused seals to be put upon the leaves in which were entered the expenses of his predecessor, Louis XA\ The Assembly respected his delicacy, and confined itself to the expenditure of the current reign. N(.)thing personally con- cerning the King was found. Every prodigality had been for the bent'tit of courtiers. The Lamt'ths were found down for a gratuity of sixty thousand francs, granted by the Queen for their education. They sent back that sum to the public exchequer. The pensions were reduced according to the two- fold proportion of services and the former condition of the persons. The Assembly showed in every point the greatest moderation. It petitioned the King to fix the civil list himself, and it voted by acclamatiijn the twenty-five millions which he demanded. This Assembly, strong in its number, in its intelligence, in its power, in its resolutions, had conceived the immense plan of regenerating all the departments of the State, and it had just framed tlie new judicial 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 strongly opposed. I^oli- tical metaphysics had been again enlisted on this occasion to prove that the judicial power was dependent on the executive, and that the Kiug ought to appoint the judges. Eeasons had been found on both sides ; but the only one that should have been gi^'en to the Assembly, which was on the point of making a monarch}', was tliat royalty, successively stripped of its prero- gati^'es, becomes 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 sin- cerely wished well to the King ; it was full of deference for him, and manifested it on every occasion ; but it was attached who bad acquired so mucli celebrity in France. One evening when we were talking, first of one thing, and then of another, I managed to turn the conversa- tion on that subject. 'M. Necker,' said he, 'appears to rae very far below his rejmtation. He did not equal the idea I had formed of him. I tried all I could to get him to talk, but he 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." — Boxirrienne' s Memoirs of Napoleon. VOL. I. 9 I 3 o HIS TOE Y OF JUNE 1 7 90 to the person, and witliont being aware of it, destroyed the thing. After introducing tliis uniformity into tlie law and the administration, the Assembly had still to regulate the service of religion, and to organize it like all the other systems. Thus, when it had established 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 hundred livres. whilst there were beneficed ecclesiastics who possessed incomes of ten and fifteen thousand livres ? The Assembly in reforming abuses was interfering neither with the doctrines of the Church nor with the Papal autho- rity, since the circumscriptions had always belonged to the temporal power. It determined, therefore, to form a new di\dsion, and to subject, as of old, both cures and bishops to the popular election. Here it was encroaching on the temporal power alone, since it was the Iving- who chose, and the Pope who instituted the ecclesiastical dignitaries. This plan, which was called the civil constitution of the clergy, and which drew u]3on the Assembly more calumny than anything it had yet done, was nevertheless the work of the most pious de])uties. 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 certain that justice being everywhere else re-established, it would have been strange had it not also been introduced into the eccle- siastical 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 the other religions 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 not to combat, even when we do not share them. They supported, therefore, the religious and sincerely Chris- tian plan of Camus. The clergy opposed it, alleging that it encroached on the spiritual authority of the Pope, and appealed to Rome. The ]3rinci])al bases of the plan were nevertheless adopted, and immediately presented to the King, who asked for time that he might refer to the high Pontiff. The King, whose enlightened religion recognized the wisdom of this plan, wrote to the Pope, with a sincere desire of obtaining his JUNE 1790 THE F HEN an RE VOL UTIOK 1 3 r assent, and tlms overtlirowing all the objections of the clergy. We shall presently see what intrigues prevented the success of his wislies. The month of July approached. It was nearly a year since the Bastille was taken, since the nation had seized all power, since it had annf>unced its intentions by the Assembly, and executed them itself, or caused them to be executed under its superintendence. The I4tli of July was considered as the day wliich had commenced a new era, and it was re- solved that its anniversary should be celebrated with great festivity. The provinces and thf towns had already set the example of confederating, to resist with united strength the enemies of the Kevolutifjn. The municipality of Paris pro- posed for the 14th of July a general federation of all France, which should be celebrated in tlie heart of the capital by the deputies of all the national guards and of all tlie corps of the army. This i^lan 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 esteem us. A party of foreign enthusiasts appeared before the Assembly in the costumes of their respective nations. Tlieir spokesman, Anacluarsis Clootz, by birth a l^russian, a man of wayward imaoination, demanded, in the name of the human race, to be admitted into the Federation.* These scenes, which appear ridiculous to those who are not eye- witnesses of them, make a -deep impression upon all who are. The Assembly com]')lied with the demand, and the 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 blessings of libert3\ The emotion caused hx this scene produced another. An ecpiestrian statue of Louis XIV. represented him trampling upon the image of several conquered provinces. '' In the days of liberty. '' exclaimed one of tlie Lameths, "these monuments of slavery ought not to be endured. It is not fit that the people of Franche-C'omte. when they come to Paris, should see their image thus enchained."' ]\iaury opposed a measure in itself unimportant, but which it was necessary to concede to the public enthusiasm. At the same moment a member proposed to abolish the titles of Comte, ^larquis. Baron, &c. ; « See Appendix AA I 3 4 HISTOR Y OF JULY 1 790 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 farthest extremity, was destined for the national authorities. The King and the president sat beside one another on similar seats, sprinkled 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 thousand 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 altar of the country. Three hundred priests, in white surplices and tri- coloured 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. The sky, whose brightness harmonizes so well with human joys, refused at this moment serenity and light. One of tlie battalions, as it came up, grounded arms, and conceived the idea of forming a dance. Its example was instantly followed by all tlie others, and in a moment the intermediate space was filled by sixty thousand men, soldiers and citizens, opposing gaiety of heart to the unfavourable weather. At leiigi:Ji the ceremony commenced. Tlie sky happily cleared, and threw its brilliancy over this solemn scene. The Bishop of Autun * began the mass. The choristers accompanied the voice of the prelate ; the cannon mingled witli it their solemn peals. Divine service over. Lafayette alighted from his horse, ascended the steps of the throne, and received the orders of the King, who handed to him the form of the oath. Lafayette carried it to the altar. At that moment all the banners waved, every sabre glistened. The general, the army, the president, the deputies, cried, "I swear it." The King, standing with his hand outstretched towards the altar, said, "I, King of the French, swear to employ the power delegated to me b}'" the constitutional act of the State, in main- taining the constitution decreed by tlie National Assembly and acce]:>ted by me." At this moment the Queen, moved by the general emotion, clasped in her arms the august child, the heir to the throne, and from the l^alcony where she was stationed, showed him to the assembled nation. At this * See Appendix BB, JULY 1790 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTIOK 1 3 5 movement, sliouts of joy, attachment, and entliusiasm, were addressed to the mother and the child, and all hearts were hers. At this very same moment all France, assembled in the eighty-three chief 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 ]:>rond of the dignity of all. Why, alas, are these pleasures of concord so soon forgotten ! This august ceremony over, the procession returned, and the people gave themselves up to rejoicing.* 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 Elysees and the Bastille. On the site of this ancient prison, now converted into an open square, was set up this inscription, ''Place for dancing." Brilliant lamps arranged in festoons made amends for the day- light. Opulence had been forbidden to annoy this quiet fete by the movement of carriages. Each was expected to make himself one of the people, and to feel happy in being so. The Champs Elysees exhibited a touching scene. There every one walked about without noise, without tumult, without rivalry, without animosity. All classes intermingled, enjoyed them- selves beneath the mild lamp-light, and seemed delighted to be together. Thus, even in the bosom of ancient civilization, men seemed to have found anew the times of primitive fraternity. The federalists, after attending the imposing discussions of the National 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 touching expressions of benevolence, returned home in transports of intoxication, full of good feelings and illusions. After so many painful events, and while preparing to describe others still more terrible, the historian dwells with pleasure on these too transient scenes, where all heai'ts had but one sentiment — love for the public weal.f This touching festival of the Federation was but a fugitive emotion. On the morrow all hearts still wished what they had wished the day before, and the war had recommenced. Petty quarrels Avith the ministry again began. Complaints * See Appendix CC. t See Appendix DD. 1 3 6 HIST OF, Y OF july 1790 were made that a passage had been granted to the Austrian troops into the country of Liege. St. Priest was charged with having favoured the escape of several accused persons who were suspected of counter-revolutionar}^ machinations. The Court, out of re^'enge, again pL^ced in the order of the day the proceedings commenced at the Chatelet against tlie authors of the disturbances of the 5tli and 6tli of October The Due d'Ork^ans and Mirabeau were im])Hcated in them. These siuguLar proceedings, several times relinquished and resumed. betra\ed the different influences under which thev had buen carried on. ^I''he\' Aver(^ full of contradictions, and presented no sufficient charge against the two princi'|)al persons accused. The Court, in conciliating Mirabeau, had neverthe- less no settled plan in regard to him. It approached and withdrew from him by turns, and sought rather to appease him than to follow his advice. In renewing the proceedings of the 5tli and 6tli of October, it was not at him that it aimed, but at the Due d'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 re- port 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 abandon the Due d'Orleans, against whom alone it bore a grudge. He nevertheless spoke, and sliuwed how ridiculous were the imputations thrown out against him. He was accused, in fact, of having apprized Mounier that Paris was marching upon Versailles, and of having added this expres- sion : '' 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 Due d'Orleans : " This j . ' ' f .... is not Avorth the trouble that is taken about him." Nothing could be more frivolous than such allegations. Mirabeau showed their weakness and absurdity, said but a few words respecting the Due d'Orleans, and exclaimed, when concluding : '' Yes, the secret of these infernal pro- ceedings is at length laid bare ; it is 3T>nder, whole and entire (pointing to the right side) ; it is to be found in the interest of those whose evidence and whose calumnies ha\e formed their tissue ; it is in the resources which they have furnished to the enemies of the Pevolution ; it is — it is in the hearts of the judges, and it will soon be graven in history by the most just and the most implacabh" vengeance. jj AU( ;. 1 7 9 o THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. i 3 7 Plaudits accompanied Mirabeau to his seat ; the Assembly resolved that there was no ground of accusation against the persons inculpated, and the Court incurred the disgrace of a useless attempt. The Revolution was destined to run its course everj^vhere, in the arm^^ as well as among the people. The army, the last instrument of ]iower, Avas also the last fear of the ]:)0])ular party. All the military chiefs were enemies of the Ivevolu- tion, because, being exclusive possessors of ]:)romotion and fa\ours, they saw merit admitted to ecpial pri\'ileges with themselves. From the contrary motive, the soldiers inclined to the new order of things ; and no doubt the dislike of discipline and the desire of higher pay acted as powerfully upon them as the spirit of liberty. A dangerous insubordi- nation manifested itself throughout almost the whole army. The infantry, in ^^articular, perhaps because it mingles more with the people, was in a state of absolute insurrection. Bouille, who was mortified to see his army slijiping out of his hands, employed all possible means to prevent this contagion of the revoluti(.)nary spirit. He had received the most ex- tensive powers from Latour du l^in, minister at war ; he availed himself of them to keep shifting his troops about continually, and thus to prevent them from contracting a familiarity with the people by staging in the same ]^lace He forbade them above all things to frequent the clubs, and in short, he neglected no means of maintaining military subordi- nation. Bouille, after a long resistance, had at leng*th 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 dis- like 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 exten- sive country under his command had proposed to appoint him their general. He had refused the offer in his first fit of pique, but was sorry for having done so afterwards, when he thought of all the a^ood 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 ]:>opular favour. Eevolt first broke out at Metz. The soldiers confined their officers, 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 138 HISTORY OF AUG. 1790 it, and there was reason to apprehend that if this example were foRowed, the whole Idng'dom would soon be a prey to the nuited excesses of the soldiery and the populace. The Assembly itself trembled at this prospect. An officer was charged to carry the decree passed against the rebels. He could not put it into execution, and liouille 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 mutinied at Metz, humbled because he durst not trust them, offered to march against the rebels : the national guards made a similar offer, and he advanced upon Nancy with these united forces and a tolerably numerous body of cavalry. His situation was perplexing, for he could not employ his cavalry, and his infantry was not strong enough to attack the rebels seconded by the populace. Nevertheless he addressed them with the greatest firmness, and contrived to overawe them. They were even about to yield and to leave the city ao'reeablv to his orders, when some musket-shots were fired from some unknown quarter. An action now became inevi- table. Bouille's troops, under the idea of treachery, fought with the greatest ardour ; but the engagement was obstinate, and they penetrated only step by step through a destructive fire. Being at length master of the principal squares, Bouille gained the submission of the revolted regiments, and compelled them to leave the city ; he liberated the imprisoned officers and the authorities, and caused the principal ringleaders to be picked out, and delivered them up to the National Assembly. This victory diff'used general joy, and allayed the fears which had been excited for the tranquillity of the kingdom. Bouille received congratulations and commendations from the King and the Assembly. He was subsefjuently calumniated, and his conduct charged with cruelty. It was nevertheless irre- ]:>roachable, and at the moment it was applauded as such. The King augmented his command, which became very considerable, extending from Switzerland to the Sambre, and comprehending the greatest part of the frontiers. Bouille, having more reliance on the cavalry tlian on the infantry, chose the banks of the Seille, which falls into the Moselle, for his cantonments. He tliere had plains for manoeuvring ]iis cavalry, forage for its support, places of considerable strength for entrenching it, and, above all, a thin population. Bouille had determined to take no step against the cr)nstitution, but he distrusted the patriots, and he took precautions with a view to succour the King if circumstances should render it necessary. The Assembly had abolished the parliaments, instituted SEPT. 1790 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 139 juries, suppressed jurandes, and was about to order a fresh issue of assig^nats. Tlu' property of the clergy offeiing an immense capital, and tlie assign ats rendering it continually disposable, it was natural tliat the Assembly should employ it. All the objections alread}^ urged were renewed with still greater violence. The Bishop c)f Autun himself declared ag'ainst this new issue, and had the sagacity to foresee all the financial results of that measure.* ]\lirabeau, looking chiefly at the political results, obstinately persisted, and with success. Eight hundred millions in assignats were decreed; and this time it was decided tliat they should not bear interest. It would have been useless, in fact, to add interest to a circulating medium. Let this be done for a ]iaper which cannot circulate, but remains idle in the hands of the holder — nothing is more just ; but for a \'alue which becomes actual by its forced currency, it is an evYur which 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 continu- ance in office was deemed bv the people essential to their welfare a year before. Deprived of the confidence of the King, embroiled with his colleagues, excepting Montmorin, he was neglected by the Assembly, and not treated by it with that attention which he had a right to expect. Necker's error consisted in believing that reason is sufiicient for all things, and that combined with a medley of sentiment and logic, it could not fail to trium]ih over the infatuation of the aristocrats and the irritation of the patriots. Necker possessed that somewhat vainglorious 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 offended the Assembly by remindhio- it continually, and with reproaches, of the most difficult of all duties — that of attending to the finances. He had, moreover, incurred ridicule by the manner in which he spoke of himself. His resignation was accepted with pleasure by all ]'>arties. His carriage was stopped as it was cpiitting the kingdom by See Appendix EE. I40 HTHTOUY OF sept. 1790 the same populace which had before drawn him in triumph ; and it was necessary to apply to the Assembly for an order directing that he should be allowed to go to Switzerland. He soon obtained this permission, and retired to Ooppet, there to contemplate at a distance a Revolution 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. JViest communicated with the emigrants. Latour de I'in lent himself to all the schemes of tlie military chiefs ; Montmorin * possessed the esteem of the Court, but not its confidence, and he was employed in intrigues with tlie popular leaders, with whom his moderation made him acquainted. The ministers were all denounced on the plea of new plots. " I, too,", exclaimed Cazaltis, "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 Revolution which he had provoked ; I would charge the minister at war with having suffered the army to be disorganized ; the minister of the interior with not having enforced the observance of the King's orders; all, in short, with their nullity and the cowardly advice given to their master." Inactivity is a crime in the eyes of parties desirous of proceeding to their goal. Accord- ingly the right side condemned the ministers, not for what they had done, but for what they had not done. Cazales and his supporters, though they condemned them, were neverthe- less averse to applying to the King for their dismissal, because they regarded such an application as an infringement of the royal prerogative. The motion was not pressed ; but the ministers successively resigned, excepting Montmorin, who alone was retained. Duport-Dutertre, who was merely an advocate, was appointed keeper of the seals. Du]:>ortail, recommended to the King by Lafayette, succeeded Latour du Pin in the war department, and showed himself more favourably disposed towards the popular party. One of the measures taken by him was to deprive J3ouille of all the liberty which he assumed in his command, and especially of the ■|:)ower of displacing the troops at his pleasure — a power wbich Bouille employed, as we have seen, to prevent his soldiers from fraternizing with the peo"|ile. The King had studied the history of the English Revolution * See Appendix FF. SEPT. 1790 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 1 4 1 with particular attention. He had always been powerfully struck by the fate of Charles I., and he could not help feel- ing sinister forebodings. He had particularly remarked the motive of Charles's condemnation. That motive was civil war. He had thence contracted an invincible horror of every measure tliat could produce bloodslied, and invariably opposed all the schemes of tiiglit proposed by the Queen and the Court. During the summer which he passed at St. Cloud in 1790 he had opportunities enough for tlight, but he never would listen to the mention of it. The friends of the constitution dreaded, like him, such a ste]i, which seemed likely to lead to a civil war. The aristocrats alone desired it. because, in becoming masters of the King, by withdrawing him from the Assembly, they flattered themselves with the ])ros2:)ect of governing in his name, and returning with him at the head of foreigners ; not yet knowing that in such cases one can never go anywhere but in the rear. With the aristocrats were perhaps united sijme precocious imaginations, which already began to dream of a republic, which no one else yet thought of, and the name of wJiich had never yet been mentioned, unless by the Queen in her fits of passion against Lafayette and the Assembly, whom she accused of urging it on with all their might. Lafayette, chief of the constitutional army and of all the sincere friends of libert}^, kept incessant watch over the person of the monarch. Those two ideas — the departure of tlie King and civil war — were so strongly associated in all minds ever since the commencement of the llevolution, that such an event was considered as the greatest calamity that could be apprehended. Meanwhile the expulsion of the ministr3^ which, if it had not the confidence of Louis XVI., was at least his choice, indisposed him towards the Assembl3\ and excited his fears for the total loss of the executive power. The new religious debates, to which the bad faith of the clergy ga\'e rise on occasion of the civil constitution, affrighted his timid con- science, and thenceforward he thought of departure."^ It * "About this time Madame de Stael invented a plan for liis Majesty's escape, which she communicated to M. de Montmoriu in a letter that he showed me. The plan was as follows : — The estate of Lamotte, on the coast of Normandy, belonging to the Due d'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 that 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 grey 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 1 4 2 RISTOR Y OF sept. 1790 was towards the end of 1790 tliat lie wrote on the subject to Bonille, who at first opposed the scheme, but afterwards gave way, lest he slioiild cause the nnfoitiinate monarch to doubt his zeaL Mirabean, on his part, had formed a plan for uphold- ing the monarchy. In continual comminiication with Mont- morin. he had hitherto undertaken nothing of consequence ; because the Court, liesitating between emigration and the national party, was iiot cordially disposed towards anything, and dreaded, above all other schemes, that which would subject it to a master so sincerely constitutional as Mirabeau. Never- theless at this iperiod it cordially agreed with him. Everything was promised him if he succeeded. All possible resources were placed at his dis]50sal. 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, according to him, too democratic, and for a republic there was a king too much. Observing, above all, the popular violence, which kept continually increasing, he resolved to set bounds to it. At Paris, under the rule of the mob and of an all-powerful Assembly, any attempt of this sort was impossible. He felt that there was but one alternative — to remove the King from Paris, and ])lace him at Lyons. There 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.* He proposed to annex had accustomed tlie masters of the post-houses and ^the postillions on the road to the appearance of Madame de Stael and her travellinf]; companions, she pro- posed that tlieir places should be occupied by the King, Queen, and Danpliin, in the hope that they would arrive safely at the castle of Lamotte, Avhere a tishing- vessel would be in readiness to transport them whither they pleased. This plan appeared to I\I. de Montmorin equally dangerous, romantic, and inconsistent with propriety; he therefoi'e 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 Bcrtrand de ]\follcviUe. * It is not possible that there should not be diversity of opinions in regard to a work composed 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 disapprovers among the very NOV. I 790 THE FRENCH REVOL UTION. 1 4 3 them to the manifesto of tlie King, to ensure its effect, and to cause tlie necessity for a new conslitntion to be the more strongly felt. We are not acf|uaintetl with all his means of execution ; but we know that through the policy of Talon, ci\'il lieutenant, he had secured pamphleteers and club and mol) orators, and that by his immense correspondence he could have made sure of thirty-six departments of tlie South. No doubt he meant to gain the aid of Bnuille ; but he would not place himself at the mercy of that general. While Bouille should be encamped at ^I(.)ntmi'dy. he wished the King to sta}^ at Lyons ; and he himself was to be at Lyons or Paris accord- ing to circumstances. A foreign prince, a friend of ]\rirabeau, saw -Bouille on behalf of the Kino^. and communicated to him this plan, but unknown to jMirabeau.f who had no thought of Montmedy, for which place the King subsequently set out. Bouille, struck by the genius of Mirabeau, declared that every- thing 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 unaccpiainted with this plan. Though sincerely attached to the person of the King, he had not the confidence of the Court ; and besides, he excited the envy of Mirabeau, who was not desirous of having 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 leffal course to suit him. Be this as it nuiv, Mirabeau wished to be the sole executor of his plan, and in fact he carried it on quite alone during the winter of 1790- 1. It is impossible to tell whether it would have succeeded ; but thus much is certain, that without stemming the revolutionary torrent, it would at least have influenced its direction ; and that though it would undoubtedly not have changed the inevi- authors of that constitution ; the whole was nevertheless their real and incon- testable work. What happened in this instance would have been inevitable in any deliberative body, and the expedient of Mirabeau was but a trick. It may even be said, that his procedure was lar from delicate ; but i^^reat allowance must be made for a man of mighty mind and dissolute manners, whom the morality of the aim rendered not over scrupulous in regard to that of the means. I say the morality of the aim, for Mirabeau sincerely believed in the necessity of a modified 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 beside him dreaded the Court and the aristocracy more than the people. Thus there were everywhere, according to the positions of parties, different fears, and everywhere true ones. Conviction changes with the points of view ; and morality, that is to say, sincerity, is to be found alike on the most opposite sides. T Bouille, iu 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 was ignorant of this double dealing, and had no intention of putting himself into Bouille's power. 1 4 4 HIS TOE Y OF nov. 1790 table result of the lievolntion, it would have modified events by its powerful opposition. It is still a question, however, whether, had he even succeeded in quelling the 2'>opular 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 Mira- beau. "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 circumscription of the bishoprics and the election of all the ecclesiastical functionaries, had been decret^d. The King had referred to the Pope, who, after answering him in a tone half severe and half paternal, had appealed in his turn to the clergy of France. The clergy, availing itself of this occa- sion, alleged that spiritual interests were compromized by the measures of the Assembly. At the same time it circulated l^astoral 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 them alone. The clergy intrigued, particularly in La Vendee and in some of the southern departments, where it acted in concert with the emigrants. A federative camp had been formed at Jallez, where, under the apparent pretext of federation, the pretended federalists purposed to establish a centre of opposition to the measures of the Assembty. The popular party was exasperated at these proceedhigs ; and strong in its power, weary of moderation, it resohed to resort to a decisive expedient. We have already seen ^^'hat were the motives that had influenced the adoption of the civil constitu- tion. The framers of that constitution were the most sincere Christians in the Assembly ; and these, irritated by an unjust resistance, resolved to overcome it. The reader knows that a decree obliged all the public functionaries to take an oath to the new constitution. When this civic oath was discussed, the clergy endeavoured to make a distinction between the political constitution and the ecclesi- astical 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 faithfully performing their duties if they did take it. It had the precaution to declare that it meant not to do violence to consciences ; that it should respect the refusal of those who, considering religion NOV. 1790 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTIOK 1 4 5 as compromized by the new laws, would not take tlie oath; but that it was desirous of knowing them, that it might not con- sign the new bislioprics 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 l^e deprived of their functions and salary. Moreover, by way of setting the example, all the ecclesiastics 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. ]\Iaury gave vent to all his violence, and did all tliat lay in his power to provoke inter- ruption, that he might have ground for complaint. Alexandre Lameth, who filled the president's chair, maintained order while he spoke, and deprived him of the pleasure of being- driven from the tribune. Mirabeau, more elocpient than ever, defended the Assembly. " Y( m ," he exclaimed, '' the persecutors of religion ! you, who have paid it so noble and so touching a homage in tlie most admirable of your decrees ! you, who de- vote to its worship part of the public revenue, of which your prudence and your justice have rendered you so economical ! you, who ha\'e summoned religion to assist in the division of the kingdom, 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 liberty ! " The Assembly decreed the oatli. The King referred im- mediately to liome. Tlie ] bishop of Aix, who had at first opposed the civil constitution, feeling the necessity of a paci- fication, joined the King and some of the more moderate of his colleagues in soliciting the assent of the Pope. The emigrants at Turin, and the opposing bishops of France, wrote also to Kome, but in a directly contrary spirit ; and the Pope, upon various pretexts, postponed his answer. Tlie Assembly, irritated at these delavs, insisted on havine' the sanction of the King- who, having made up his mind to comply, resorted to the usual stratagems of weakness. He wished to oblige the Asseml^ly to use constraint towards him, that he miglit 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 in execution, and required its ecclesiastical members to take the oath in their places. Men and women who had until then shown very little attachment to religion all at once made themselves extremely busy in provoking the refusal of the ecclesiastics."*^ * Oi See Appendix GG» VOL, I, 10 ^ 146 HISTORY OF NOV. 1790 Some of the bishops and some of the cures took the oath. The majority refused, with a feigned moderation and an apparent attachment to its principles. The Assembly nevertheless per- sisted in the nomination of new bishops and cures, and was cheerfully seconded by the administrations. The former ecclesiastical functionaries were at liberty to perform divine service a]iart, and those who were recognized by the State took their places in tlie churches. The Dissenters at Paris hired the cliurch of the Theati]ies for their place of wor- ship. The Assembly permitted this, 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 Assemblv has been condemned for havino* occasioned this schism, and for ha\dng added a new cause of di^dsion to those which before existed. In the first place, as to its rights, it must be evident to every just mind that the Assembly did not exceed them in directing its attention to the temporalities of the Church. As for considerations of prudence, we may affirm that it added little to the difficulties of its position. It is evident that the Court, the nobility, and the clergy had lost enough, and the people had gained enough, to be irreconcilable enemies, and to impel the Revolution to its inevitable issue, even without the effects of the new schism. And besides, when the Assembly was abolishing all abuses, could it suffer those of the ancient ecclesiastical organization to remain ? Could it suffer idle persons to live in abundance, while pastors, the only useful members of the profession, had scarcely the necessaries of existence ? Tliis last sti'uggle completed the work of universal division. Wliile the clergy excited the pro^dnces of the West and South, the refugees at Turin made several attempts, which were frustrated by their weakness and their anarchy. A con- spiracy was set on foot at Lyons. The. arrival of the princes and an abundant distril^ution of favours were there announced. Lyons Avas even promised to be made the capital of the king- dom, instead of Paris, which had incurred the displeasure of the Court. The King was apprized of these schemes, and — not expecting success from them, perhaps not even desiring it, for he despaired of governing the Adctorious aristocracy — he did all til at lay in his power to prevent it. This conspiracy was discovered about the end of 1 790, and its ]")rincipal agents were delivered up to justice. This last reverse determined the emigrants to remove from Turin to Coblentz. Avhere they settled in the territory of the JAN. 1 7 9 1 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTHJN. 1 4 7 Elector of Treves, and at the expense of liis authority, which they ahiiost entirely usurped. We have already seen that these nobles wliu had fled from France were divided into two parties. TIk.^ one, consisting of old servants pampered with favours, and composing what was called the Court, would not, while suj^ported by the 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 tlie provinces of the South by rousing their fanaticism. The former carried their point, and repaired to Coblentz, on the northern frontier, to wait there for the foreign aid. In vain did those who wished to fight in the South insist that aid ought to be sought from Piedmont, SAvitzerland, and Spain — faithful and disinterested allies — and that a distinguished leader should be left in their vicinity. The aristocracy, directed by Calonne, was adverse to this. That aristocracy had not changed since leaving France : frivolous, haughty, incapable, and prodigal — at Cob- lentz as at A'ersaillrs — it displayed its vices still more con- spicuously amidst the difficulties of exile and of civil war. "You must have citizens in your commission," it said to those gallant men who offei-ed to fight in the Soutli. and who asked under wliat title theA^ were to ser\'e.* Some subordinate agents only were left at Turin ; these, actuated by mutual jealousy, thwarted each other's eff^orts, and prevented the success of every attempt. The Prince de Conde,t who seemed to have retained all the energy of his branch of the royal family, was not in favour witli part of the nobility ; he took post near the Rliine. with all those who, like himself, were not dis])osed to intrigue, but to figlit. The emiorration became dailv more considerable, and the roads were covered with nubles, who imagined that tliey ]:)erformed a sacred duty by hastening to take arms against their country. Even women deemed it incumbent on them to attest their horror of the Revolution by forsaking the soil of France. Among a nation which is so easily led away by example it became the fashion to emigrate. People hardly o'ave themseh^es the trouble to take leave, so short did thev consider the journey, and so speedy their return. J The Re- volutionists of Holland, betrayed by their general, abandoned by their allies, had yielded in a few days ; those of Brabant had not held out much longer : so, too, according to these *■ See Appendix HH. t See Appendix II, % See Appendix JJ. 148 HISTORY OF FEB. 1 79 1 imprudent emigrants, would the French Revohition be quelled in one short campaign, and absolute power would once more flourish in subjugated France. The Asseiubly, irritated rather than alarmed at such pre- sumption, had proposed measures, but they had always been deferred. The King's aunts, finding their consciences com- promized at Paris, thought to ensure their salvation by repairing to the Pope. They set out for Rome, and were stopped on the way by the municipality of Arnai-le-Duc. The people immediately thronged to the residence of Mon- sieur, who also was said to be preparing to depart. Monsieur appeared, and promised not to forsake the King. The people were pacified, and the Assembly took into consideration the departure of Mesdames. The deliberation had lasted a con- siderable tiiue, when Menoii put an end to it by this sally : "All Europe," said he, "will be astonished to learn that a great Assembl}^ has spent several days in deciding whether two old women shall hear mass at Paris or at Pome." The committee of constitution was nevertheless directed to j^resent a law on the residence of the public functionaries and on emigration. This decree, adopted after warm discussions, rendered it obligatory on ]3ublic functionaries to reside in the place of their functions. The King, as the highest of all, was required not to withdraw himself from the Legislative Body during the session, and at other times not to leave the kingdom. Tlie penalty for all the functionaries in case of their violating this law was dismissal from oflice. Another decree relative to emigration was demanded from the com- mittee. Meanwhile the King, unable to endure the constraint im- posed upon him, and the rednctioiis of power to which he was subjected by the Assembly, enjoying, moreover, no peace of mind since the new decrees relative to priests, liad resolved upon fliglit. The whole winter had been devoted to prepara- tions for it: the zeal of Mirabeau w^as urged, and great pro- mises were held out to him if he should succeed in settino- the royal family at liberty. Mirabeau prosecuted his plan with the utmost activity. Lafayette had just broken with the Lameths. The latter thouglit liiTn too much attached to the Court ; and his integrity being, unlike that r>f Mirabeau, above suspicion, they found fault with his under.standing, and alleged that he suffered himself to be duped. The enemies of the Lameths accused them of being jealous of the military power of Lafayette, as they had envied the rhetorical power of Mira- beau. They joined, or seemed to join, the friends of the Duo FEB. 1 79 1 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 149 d'Orleans,* and it was asserted that they Avished to secure for one of them the command of the national guard. It was Charles Lameth who was said to be ambitious of obtaining this appointment. To this motive were attributed the in- cessantly recurring difficulties that were subsequently thrown in the way of Lafa^- ette. On the 28th of February the populace, instigated, it is said, by the Due d'Orleans, repaired to the castle of Yincennes, which the municipality 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. Lafayette hastened to the spot in time, and dispersed the populace of the Faubourg St. Antoine. who were led upon this expedition by Santerre.f While he was restoring order in this cfuarter, 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 national guard, astonished at this concourse, took alarm, arid disarmed and maltreated some of them. Lafayette having arrived, caused the palace to be cleared, and seized the weapons. The circumstance was immediatelv rumoured abroad. It was said that daggers had been found upon them, whence they were afterwards called knights of the dagger. They asserted that they had only come to defend the person of the King, which was threatened. In reply they were accused of an intention to carry off the King ; and the affair ended, as usual, in reciprocal calumnies. This scene determined the real posi- tion of Lafavette. It was clearlv shown on this occasion, that placed between the most oppr)site parties, he was there to protect both the person of the King and the constitution. His double A'ictory increased his popularity, his power, and the hatred of his enemies. Mirabeau, who wrongfully encouraged the distrust of the Court towards him, represented his conduct as profoundl}^ hypocritical. Under the a]:»pearance of modera- tion and hostility to all parties, it tended, according to him, to usurpation. In his spleen, he described the Lameths as wicked and senseless men, associated with the Due d'Orleans, and having no more than about thirty partisans in the Assembly. As for the riglit side, he declared that he could make nothing * "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 recommended by their mother, who was the sister of Marshal Brocrlie." — Biographie Moderne. t Sec Appendix KK. 1 5 o HIS TOR Y OF feb. i 7 9 i of it, but tliat he relied on the three or four hundred members who were bound by no engagements, but decided from the impression of reason and eloquence which he produced at the moment. There was nothing true in this representation but his esti- mate of the respective force of the parties, and his opinions concerning the means of directing the Assembly. He virtually governed it by influencing all who had not bound themselves by engagements. On this same day, the 28th of February, he exercised his sway almost for the last time, displayed his hatred to the Lameths, and brought his formidable power to bear against them. Tile law relative to emisfration was about to be discussed. Chapelier jDresented it in the name of the committee, which, he said, participated in the general indignation against those Frenchmen who were forsaking their country ; but he declared that after several davs' consideration the committee had satis- fled itself that it was impossible to make any law concerning emigration. It was in reality a difficult thing to do. It was necessary, in the first place, to inquire if they had any right' to attach men to the soil. They certainly had a right to do so if the welfare of the country demanded 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 (piality as Frenchmen or foreigners, emigrants or mere mercantile men. Such a law then was extremely difficult, if not impossible. Chapelier added that the committee, in compliance with the directions of the Assembly, had never- theless drawn up one, which he would read if permitted, but which he had no hesitation in declaring violated all principles. From all quarters issued cries of '' Read ! " " Don't read ! " A great number of deputies asked leave to speak. Mirabeau demanded it in his turn, obtained ])ermission, and what is still more, commanded silence. He read a very eloquent letter, addressed some time before to Frederick William, in which he advocated the liberty of emigration as one of the most sacred rights of man, who, not being attached by roots to the soil, ought not to be attached to it by anything 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 country. 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 the i^ress committed against itself, had en- countered so many vain attempts, and so victoriously over- FEB. 1 7 9 1 THE FRENCH REVOL UTION. 1 5 1 thrown tliem, tliat one might safely advise it to persist in the same system. Mirabean's opinion was applauded ; but the members con- tinued to insist on the reading of the proposed law. Chapelier at length read it. It suggested, 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 lea\'e the kingdom. At this cutting iron3^ 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 myseir released from ever}^ oath towards those who shall be infamous enough to admit (tf a dictatorial commission.' Cries were raised on the left side. '•Yes/' he repeated, '1 swear. . . ." He was again interrupted. '" That popularity," he resumed in a voice of thunder, "to which I have aspired, and which I have enjoyed as well as others, is not a feeble reed ; I will thrust it di^e]-) into the earth, and I will make it shoot up in the soil of justice and reason." Applauses burst forth from all cpiarters. '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 overawing his enemies. The discussion never- theless 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 JM. de Mirabeau exercises here?" Mirabeau, without heeding him, hurried to the tribune. '* I have not given you permission to S]:)eak," said the president. " Let the Assembly decide." But the Assembly listened with- out deciding. I beg my interrupters," said Mirabeau, "to remember that I have 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 Gatiline. whose dictatorship he this day attacks ; * I beg the Assembly to remark that the question of adjourn- ment, though apparently simple, involves others — for example, it presupposes that a law is to be made." Fresh murmurs * M. Goupil, when attacking Mirabeau upon a former occasion, had exclaimed with the rii/ht side, " Catiline is at our doors ! " 1 5 ^ HIS TOR Y OF feb. i 7 9 i 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 adjournment, 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 esteem was joined with his own, and assured him that if he had not yet done enough for the welfare of the State, he had at least done enough for his own glory. Philosophy and gaiety di\'ided his last moments between them. Pale, and with his eyes deeply sunk in their orbits, he appeared quite different in the tribune. Moreover, he was subject to frecpient and sudden fainting-fits. Excess in pleasure and in business, together with the excitement of the tribune, had in a short time undermined his vigorous constitution. Baths contain- ing a solution of sublimate, had produced that greenish tint which was attributed to poison.* The Court was alarmed ; all parties were astonished, and before his death, people inquired the cause of it. On his last 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 (Jabanis 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 liad decreed that his genius should continue to shine till the very last moment. An immense crowd collected around his abode, and filled all the avenues in the deepest silence. The Court sent messenger after messenger ; the bulletins of his health were transmitted from mouth to mouth, and each progressive stage of his disorder excited fresh grief. He himself, surrounded by Ins friends, expressed some regret at the interru])tion of his labours, and some pride at what he had accomplished. * Sec Appendix LL. APRIL 1 7 9 1 THE FRENCH HE VOL UTION. i 5 3 "Support," said he to his servant, "support this head, the gi-eates^ in France." He was affected by the sympathy of the people ; and the visit of his enemy Barnave, who called upon him in the name of the Jacobins, excited in him a soothing emotion. He bestowed some more thoughts on public affairs. The Assembly was about to direct its atten- tion to the right of making wills. He sent for M. de Talleyrand, and put into his hands a speech which he had just written. "It will 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 recpiested him to do so, promising to pay all the legacies. Extending his views over Europe, and foreseeing the plans of England, '' That Pitt," said he, "is the minister of pre^^arations ; he governs with threats : I would give him some trouble if I should live." The priest of his parish came to offer his attendance, which he politely declined, saying, with a smile, that he should gladly have accepted it if lie 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 now be done is to envelop oneself in ])erfumes, to crown oneself with flowers, to surround oneself with music, that one may sink quietly into everlasting sleep." Acute pains from time to time interru^^ted these calm and dignified observations. "You have promised," said he to his friends, " to spare me needless suffering." 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 2nd of April 179 1. 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 general mourning was ordered, and a magnificent funeral l^repared. A certain number of deputies was asked for. " We will all go ! " they exclaimed. The church of St. CTene\deve was converted into a Pantheon, with this inscrip- * " 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 smallpox.' AVhen he talked of con- fronting his opponents in the Assembly, his favourite phrase was, ' I will show them La Hure,' that is, the boar's head, meaning liis own tusked and shaggy countenance." — Scott's Life of Napoleon. 1 5 4 HmTOll Y OF april i 7 9 i tion, which, at the moment that I record these facts, no longer exists : — ''AUX GRANDS HOMMES LA PATRIE RECONNAISSANTE." * Mirabean was the first admitted into it, and placed by the side of Descartes. His funeral took place on the following day. All the authorities, the department, 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 con- veyed to St. Denis. Such was the end of that extraordinary man, who, after boldh^ attacking and vancfuishing the ancient race, dared to direct his efforts against the new, which had assisted him to conquer ; who checked them witli his voice, and made them respect liim 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 otlier statesmen 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 popular tribunes, who sought to shine in their turn, '' Kemain in these obscure faubourgs ? " — would he have said to Danton, that second Mirabean of the populace,! " Stop in this section, and ascend no higher ? " We cannot tell ; but in that case all wavering intere.sts would have placed themselves in his hands and have relied upon him. Long was the want of his presence felt. In the confusion of the disputes which followed, the eye would turn to the place which he had occupied, and seemed to seek him who had been accustomed to terminate them with a victorious word. " Mirabean is no longer here," exclaimed Maury one day, in ascending the tribune, '' I shall not be prevented from speaking." The death of Mirabean deprived the Court of all courage. Fresh events occurred to accelerate the flight of the royal family, which it Jiad resolved upon. On the i8th of April the King intended to go to St. Cloud. A report was spread, that as he did not choose to employ a priest whf» had taken the oath for the duties of Easter, he had resolved to keep away during the Passion week. Others alleged that his intention * "To great men the grateful country." t Set Appendix MM. APRIL 1 7 9 1 THE FRENCH BE VOL UTION. i 5 5 was flight. The populace mimecliately collected and stopped the horses. Lafayette hastened to the spot, besought the Khig to remain in his carriage, assuring him that he would have a passage cleared for him. The King nevertheless 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 re]:)aired to the Assembly to complain of the insult whicli he had just received. The Assembly greeted him with its ordinary warmth, promising to do everything that depended on it to ensure his liberty. Louis XVL with- drew, applauded by all excepting the right side. On the 23rd of April, agreeably to tlie ad\ice given to him, he ordered a letter to be written to the fr)reio:n ambassadors by ]\I. de Montmorin, in which he contradicted the inten- tions imputed tr» liim of leaving the country, declaring to the powers tliat he had taken an oath to the constitution, which he was determined to keep, and proclaiming as his enemies all who should insinuate the contrary. The expressions of this letter were voluntarily exaggerated, tliat it might appear to have been extorted by \ioleiice. 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 ]\Iantua to the King and Queen, to learn their real dis]")osition. He first questioned them concerning the letter addressed to the ambassadors, and they replied that lie might see from the language that it was wrung from them. He then inquired what were their hopes, and they answered that they had none since the death of ]\Iirabeau. Lastly, he wished to know their disposition towards the Comte d'Artois, and they assured him that it could not be more favoui'able. 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 enmit}-^ 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 pro- ceedings 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 Comte d'Artois. He always proposed for the welfare of the throne the very contrar}^ to what Calonne pro- posed, and he neglected nothing to destroy the effect of this * See Bertraiul de Molleville on this subject. I 56 HISTORY OF MAY 1 79 1 new negotiation. The Comte de Durfort returned to Mantua, and on the 20th of May 1791, Leopold promised to set in motion thirty-five tliousand men in Flanders, and fifteen thousand in Alsace. Pie declared that a like number of Swiss should march upon Lyons, as many Piedmontese upon Dau- phine. and that Spain should assemble twenty thousand men. The Emperor promised the co-o^^eration of the King of Prussia and the neutrality of England. A protest was to be draAvn up in the name of the house of Bourbon, and signed by the King of Naples, the King of Spain, the Infant of Palma, 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. Breteuil, 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 interests of each. Breteuil, with a view to counteract Galonne'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 inti- mated to him that he ought to remain. Be this as it may, the King resolved to set out, and he frequently said with dis- pleasure, "It is Breteuil who insists on it."* Accordingly he wrote to Bouille that he was determined to wait no longer. It was not his 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 start- ing on the 20th of June. The general assembled 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 disposi- tions. The Queen took upon herself all the preparations from Paris to Chalons, and Bouille from Chalons to Montmedy. Small detachments of cavalry, upon pretext of escorting money, were to proceed to different points, and receive the King on his passage. Bouille himself piu-posed to advance to some distance from Montmedy. The Queen had secured a private door for quitting the ]3alace. The royal family was to travel by a foreign name, and with a fictitious pass])ort. 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 * See Bertrand Je Mollevillc. JUNE 1 7 9 1 THE FRENCH BE VOL IT T ION. i 5 7 this unfortunate familv. M. de Lafayette knew nothing* what- ever ol the plan ; nay, even M. de Montmorin, tliough possess- ing the confidence of the Court, was entirely ignorant of it : the secret was entrusted to those persons only who were indis- pensable for its execution. Rumours of flight had been cir- culatf-d, either because the scheme had transpired, or because it was one of those alarms which are so frequently raised. At any rate the committee of research had been apprized of it, and the vigilance of the national guard had been in conse- quence increased. In the evening of the 21st of June, the King, the Queen, Madame Elizabeth,* and Madame de Tourzel, governess of the royal children, disguised themselves, and successively quitted the palace. Madame de Tourzel proceeded with the children to the Petit Carrousel, and got into a carriage driven by M. de Fersen, a young foreign gentleman, disguised as a coach- man. The King soou joined them. But the Queen, who had gone away with a life-gnardsman, 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 she met the carriage of M. de Lafayette, whose attendants walked by it with torches. She concealed herself beneath the wickets of the Louvre, and having escaped this danger, reached the carriage, where she was awaited with extreme im^iatience. 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 Korff, was to pass for a mother travelliug with her children ; and the King for lier valet-de-chambre. Three of the life-guards in disguise were to precede the carriage as couriers, or to follow it as servants. At leng*th they started, attended by the good wishes of M. de Fersen, who returned to Paris, with the inten- tion of setting out for Brussels. Meanwhile Monsieur pro- ceeded with his consort towards Flanders, 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 muuicipality to ascertain what was known there. At eight o'clock people * " Madame Elizabeth was an angel of goodness. How often have I witnessed her kindness 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." — Madame Lcbrun's Memoirs, 158 HISTORY OF .njNEi79i were still unacquainted with the circumstance. But the report soon got abroad, and S]:)read with rapidity.* Lafa^^ette sent for his aides-de-camp and ordered tliem 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 oft" by enemies of the public Avelfare. This respectful supposition was admitted by the Assembly, and invariably adopted by all the authorities. At this moment the people, in commotion, reproached Lafayette with having favoured the King's escape. The aristocratic party, on the contrary, has since accused him of having winked at his flight, with the intention of stopping him afterwards, and thus ruining him 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 before 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. The 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 XVL had been carried oft". The utmost calmness and harmony prevailed during the whole of this sitting. The measures spontaneously taken by Lafayette were approved of. The people had stopped his aides- de-camp at the barriers. The Assembly, universally obeyed, ordered the gates to be opened to them. One of them, young Komeuf, was the bearer of the decree confirming the orders already issued by the general, and enjoining the public functionaries to stop, by all tJie means in their power, the jj»ro- f/ress of the said abduction, and to prevent the continuance of the journey. At the suggestion of the people, and upon the information furnished by them, Eomeuf took the road to Chalons, which was the right one, as the ap]:>earance upon it of a carriage and six sufliciently indicated. The Assembly then summoned the ministers, and passed a decree that they should receive orders from it alone. At his departure Louis XVI. had commanded the minister of justice to send liim the seal of State. The Assembly directed tliat the seal should be retained for the purpose of being affixed to its decrees : it decided at * See Appendix NN, JUNE I 7 9 1 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTIOK i 5 9 the same time that the frontiers should be put in a state of defence, and that the minister for foreign affairs sliould be charged to assure the powers that the dispositions of the French nation in regard to them remained unclianged. M. de la i^orte, intendant of the civil list, was then heard. He had received several messages from the King ; among others, a note, which lie begged the Assembly not to open, and a memorial, stating the reasons for departure. The Assembly, ready to pay due regard to all rights, returned uno^Dened the note which M. de la I'orte was unwilling to make public, and ordered the memorial to be read. It was listened to with the utmost calmness. It produced scarcely any impression. The King complained of his loss of power without sufficient dignity, and he seemed as much mortified at the reduction of the civil list to thirty millions as at the loss of all his other preroga- tives. The 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 apprehen- sion of Louis XVI. The aristocrats beheld in his llight the realization of the oldest of their wishes, and flattered themselves with the prospect of a speedy civil war. The most vehement 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 indidged 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 Mont- medy ; 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 apprehen- sive, as formerly, of seeing the monarch threatening the consti- tution from amidst an army. The populace alone, into whom this apprehension had been studiously instilled, continued to retain it when it was no longer felt by the Assembly, and ardenth' wished for the recapture of the royal family. Such was the state of things at Paris.* The carriage, which set out in the night between the 21st ■"■ " 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 circumstances ? Clearly have facilitated his escape, and declared the throne vacant by his desertion. They Avould thus have avoided the infamy of a regicide government, and attained their great object of republican institutions. ^ Instead of which, by bringing him back, they 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 act of cruelty." — Napoleon's Memoirs, 1 60 HIS TOR Y OF JUNE 1 7 9 1 and 22nd, had performed great 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 recognized. The person who made this 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, tlie postmaster's son, a violent Eevolutionist. This young man, not having time to cause the carriage to be detained at St. Menehonld, posted off to Varennes. A worthy quartermaster, who had observed his haste, and sus- pected his motives, flew after to stop him, but could not overtake him. Drouet used such speed that he arrived at Varennes before the unfortunate family. He immediately gave information to the municipality, and caused all the necessary measm-es 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 tlie watch there ; bnt the officer , not seeing the treasure arrive which he had been directed to wait for, had left his men in their cpiarters. The carriage at length drove up and crossed the bridge. No sooner was it beneath an arch- way through wliich it was obliged to pass, than I)r<)uet, assisted by another ]">erson, sto]iped tlie horses. " Your passport ! " he exclaimed, and with a mnsket he threatened tlie 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 comranne. The royal family was then conducted to the house of this solicitor, named Sansse. Tlie latter, after examining the pass]-)ort and pretending to find it quite right, very politely begged the King to wait ; he accordingly waited a considerable time. When Sausse had at lengtli ascertained that a sufficient number of the national guards liad assembled, he threw off all disguise, and informed the f^rince that he was recognized 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 J UNE 1 7 9 1 THE FREXOH BE VOL UTION. 1 6 1 him to be your King," exclaimed the Queen angrily, " speak to liim ^vith the respect that you owe him/' The Jving, seeing that further denial was useless, took no more trouble tu diss^uise himself. The little room w^as lull 01 people. He spoke, and expressed himself with a w^armth that was unnsual with him. He protested his good intentions, asserted that he was going to Montmedy, merely that he miglit listen mr»re freely to tlie wishes of his people l)y withdrawing from the tyrann)- of ]^aris. Lastly, he in- sisted on continuing his journey, and being conducted to the end of it. The unfortunate IMnce, with deep emotion, embraced tSausse, and im])lored him to sa\ e his wife and Ids children. The Queen joined him, and taking the Dauphin in her arms, besought Sausse to release them. »Sausse was affected, but withstood their entreaties, and advised them to return to J/'aris, to prevent a ci^il war. The King, on the contrary, having a dread of returning, persisted in proceeding to Montmedy. At this moment ^lessrs. de Damas and de (locpielas arrived with the detaclnnents which had been stationed at different points. The royal family considered itself as saved ; but the hussars >\ ere not to be relied on. The ofhcers assembled them, informed them that the Jving and his family were apprehended, and that they must release them. Tlie men replied that the}^ w^ere for the nation. At the same instant the national guards, called together from all the environs, arrived and filled Va- rennes. The whole night was passed in this state. At six in the morning young Komeuf arrived with the decree of the Assembly. He found the carriage with six horses harnessed to it, and turned towards J^aris. He went upstairs and de- livered the decree with pain. A general outcry burst from the whole family against M. de Lafayette, who caused them to be apprehended. The Queen even expressed her astonishment that he had not been put to death by the people. Eomeuf replied that his general and himself had only done their duty in i^ursuing them, but that they had hoped not to overtake them. The Queen took up the decree, threw it on the bed of her children, then snatched it up again, saying that it would pollute them. "Madam," said Komeuf, who was attached to her, "would you rather have any one but me to witness these passions ? " The Queen then came to herself, and resumed all her dignity. At the same moment the arrival of different corps, stationed in the environs by Bouille, was announced. The municipality then gave orders for starting. The royal family was of course obliged to enter the carriage, and VOL. I. 11 1 6 2 HIS TOR Y OF JUNE 1791 to take the road to Paris, tliat fatal and deeply dreaded course ! Bonillc, roused in the middle of the night, had mounted a regiment of horse, and set out with shouts of " Long live the King ! " This brave general, urged by anxiety, marched with all speed, and proceeded nine leagues in four hours. He arrived at Yarennes. where he found several corps already collected. But the King had been gone an hour and a half ; A^arennes was barricaded, and judicious arrangements had been made for its defence ; the bridge was broken down, and the river was not fordable. Thus, after a first combat to carry the barricades, it would have been necessary to seek the means of crossing the river, and after such a loss of time, to over- take the carriage, which had got the start by an hour and a half. These obstacles rendered any attempt at rescue impossible ; and it re([uired nothing sliort of such an im- possibility to deter a man so loyal and so enterprising as JBouille. He retired, therefore, overwhelmed with grief and mortification. When news of the King's apprehension arrived in Paris, he was belie\'ed to be beyond reach. The peo^ile manifested extraordinary joy. The Assembly deputed three commissioners, selected from the three sections of the left side, to accompany the monarch, and to conduct him back to Paris. These com- missioners were Baniavf, Latour-Maubourg, and Petion. They repaired to Chalons, and from th(^ moment that they joined the Court all orders emanated from them alone. Madame de Tourzel removed into a second carriage with Latour-Maubourg ; 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 strongly attached to the King as to the constitution. In yielding to his two colleagues the honour of being with the royal family, it was his intention to interest them in behalf of fallen greatness. Barnave sat at the back, between the King and Queen ; Petion, in front, between Madame Eli^iabetli, and Madame Hoy ale ; 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 abilities, and another, distin- guished b}^ 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 movements. The journey was slow, because the carriage followed the pace of the national guards. It took eight days to return from Varennes to Paris. The heat was excessive ; and a scorching dust, raised by the ■^\ JUNE 1 7 9 1 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 1 6 3 multitude, half - suffocated the travellers. At first a deep silence prevailed. The Queen could not conceal her vexation. The King at length entered into conversation with J3arnave. It turned upon all sorts of subjects, and lastly, upon the flight to Montmed}?-. 13oth were surprised to find the others what they were. The Queen was astonished at the superior under- standing and the delicate politeness of young Barnave.* She soon threw up her \'eil and trtok part in the conversation. Barnave was touched by the good-nature of the King and the graceful dignity of the Queeii. Petion displayed more rude- ness ; he showed and received less respect. By the time they reached Paris, Barna\'e was strone'lv attached to the unfortunate family, and the (^)ueen, charmed with the merits and tlie good sense of the young tribune, had granted him all lier esteem. Hence it was that in all tlie intercourse which slie afterwards had with the constitutional deputies, it was in liim that she placed tlie greatest confidence. Parties would forgive if they could see and hear one anotlier.t In I^aris the reception to be given to the royal family had been decided upon. A public notice was distributed and IDOsted everywhere : Whoever applauds the King shall be flogged ; ivhoevcr insidts him shcdl he hanged. The order was punctually obeyed. Neither applauses nor insults were heard. The carriage made a circuit, that it migiit not be obliged to traverse Paris. It entered by tlie Champs Elysees, wliich lead directly to the palace. An immense crowd recei\'ed it in silence and witli hats on. Lafayette, followed by a numerous guard, had taken all possible precaulit.ms. 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 nevertheless experienced no violence. J; 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 ap- proach, she had at first some doubts respecting their inten- tions ; but she resigned herself to them, and arrived safe and unharmed at the palace. vSuch was that journey, the fatal issue of which cannot fairly be attributed to any of those by whom it was planned. An accident thwarted it. An accident might have crowned it with * See Appendix 00. t See Appendix PP. + See Appendix QQ. 1 6 4 HIS TOR Y OF june i 7 9 1 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 when he was recogniy.ed. Be that as it may, tliis journey camiot be matter of reproach to any one, either to those who advised, or to those wlio executed it. It was the result of that fatality Avhicli pur- sues 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 morn- ing of his arrival the Assembly had provided 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'Andr^, Tronchet, and Du^Dort, were commissioned to take the declarations of the King and Queen. The utmost delicacy was observed in the exj)ressions, for never was this Assembly deficient in decorum ; 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. vSentinels were constantly 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 : the sentinel opposed his passage. " Do you know me ?" said Louis XVI. " Yes, Sire," replied the sentinel. All the liberty the King had left to him was to walk in the Tuileries in the morning before the garden was opened to the public. Barnave and the Lameths tlien did what they had so severely reproached Mirabeau for doing — they lent their aid to the throne, and reconciled themselves with the Court. It is true that they received no money ; but it was not so much the price of the alliance as the alliance itself that they had flung in the teeth of Mirabeau ; and after having formerly been so severe, they now followed the custom of all popular chiefs, which is, to ally themselves successively with power as soon as they arrive at it. However, nothing could be more praise- worthy in the state of affairs at that moment tlian the service rendered to the King by Barnave and the Lameths ; and never did they display more address, energy, and talent. Barnave dictated the answer of the King to the commissioners appointed by the Assembly. In this answer Louis XVI. assigned as the motive for his flight a desire to make himself better acquainted with the state of public opinion ; lie declared that JULY 1 79 1 THE FBENCH BE VOL UTION. 1 6 5 he had learned much on that head during his journey, and proved by a \'ariety of facts that it had not been his intention to leave Prance. As for the protestations contained in his memorial transmitted to the Assembly, he justly alleged that they bore not upon the fundamental principles of the consti- tution, but upon the means of execution that were left him. Now, he added, that the general will was clearly manifested to him, he did not hesitate to submit to it, and to make all the sacrifices requisite for the public welfare.* Bouille, in order to draw upon himself the indignation of the 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 the slightest injury offered to them should be signally avenged. He added, what he knew to be otherwise, that the military means of Prance were nearly null ; that he was well accpiainted with the points where an invadino' force miffht enter, and that he would him- self 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 fear, for he was already abroad. The Court of Spain, ai:)prehending that the slightest move- ment might ])roduce irritation, and expose the royal family to still greater dangers, ]orevented an attempt that was about to be made on the southern frontier, in which the Knisfhts of Malta were to assist with two frigates. It then declared to the Prench 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 understand- ing with the emigrants in those places, to acquaint them with the favourable disposition of the Assembly, and the hopes entertained of an advantageous arrangement. But no sooner had they arrived than they were treated with indignity, and immediately returned to Paris. The emigrants raised troops in the name of the King, and thus obliged him to give them a formal contradiction. 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 * See Appendix RR. 1 66 HIST OR Y OF july i ; 9 i that which he expressed was only the will of his op2)ressors. The peace concluded by CVatherine 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 dis- posal. 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 doubt- ful, or the fitting time for it far distant. They had neverthe- less 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 the war, and dis- ])leased witli tlie emigrants, wished for peace ; the King of Prussia promised a great deal, but had no interest in keeping his word ; (Tustaviis was anxious to command an expedition against France, but he was at a great distance ; and Catherine, who was to second him. liad scarcelv Ofot 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 conflict- ing interests tliat it was scarcely possible to entertain any hope of success. The declaration of Pilnitz ought more especially to have en- lightened the emigrants respecting the zeal of the sovereigns. This declaration, issued jointly by the King of Prussia and the Emperor Leopold, purported that the situation of the King of France was a subject of general interest to all the sovereigns, and that they would undoubtedly unite to furnish Louis XVI. with the means of establisliing a government suitable to the interests of the throne and of the people ; that in this case the King of Prussia and the Emperor would join the other princes to attain the same end. Meanwhile their troops should be put into a condition for active ser^'ice. It was afterwards known that this declaration contained secret articles. They purported that Austria would not op]ioso any obstacle t(t the claims of Prussia to part of Poland. It rec(uired this conces- sion to induce l^riissia to neglect her more ancient interests by connecting herself with Austria against France. AVliat could be expected from a zeal that it was necessary to excite by such means? And if it was so reserved in its expressions, what was it likely to be in its acts ? France, it is true, was in a disarmed state ; but a wliole nation aroused is soon armed ; and as tlie celebrated Carnot observed at a later period, what is impossible to twenty-five millions of men ? It is true that the officers were retiring ; but being generally young, and owing their a])pointment to favour, they were inexperienced, JULY I 7 9 1 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 1 6 7 and disliked by the army. Besides, the impetus given to all the resonrces of war was <:)n the point of speedily i)rodiicing officers and generals. Still it must be confessed, that even without the presumption of Coblentz, one might fairly have doubted the resistance which France opposed somewhat later to her invaders. Meanwhile the Assembly sent commissioners to the frontiers and ordered great preparations. All the national guards offered to march. Several generals tendered their services, and among others Dumouriez,* who subsecpiently saved France in the defiles of Argonne. The Assembly, while attending to the external safety of the State, hastened to ccunplete its constitutional labours, to restore to the King his functions, and if possible some of his prerogatives. All the subdi\'isions of the left side, (^xceiiting the men who had just assumed thp new name of republicans, had rallied around one and the same system of moderation. Barna^'e and Malouet went hand in hand, and laboured in concert. IVtion, Robespierre, Buzot, and some others had 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, governed the Assembly. Its enemies, who would have accused it if it had dethroned the King, nevertheless reproached it for having brought him back to Paris and replaced him on a tottering- throne. But wliat could it do? To supersede the King by a republic would \\^\e been too hazardous. To change the dynasty would ha^'e been useless ; for if they meant to give themselves a King, they might as well keep the one they had. Besides, the Due d'Orleans did not deserve to be preferred to Louis XVI. In either case, to dis]>ossess 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 brought them titles which they did not possess. On the contrary, to give back to Louis XA'I. his authorit}', to restore to him as many of his lu'erogatives as they could, would be fulfilling their constitutional task, and taking away all pre- text for c\\i\ 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 o>overnment. The Assembly did not hesitate, but it had great obstacles ■■'■ 6Vr' Appendix SS. s 1 6 8 HIS TOE Y OF july i 7 9 i to surmount. The new term, republic, had piqued minds ah^eady somewhat tired of those of monarchy and constitution. The absence and the suspension of the King had, as we have seen, tanght them to do without him. The journals and the clubs instantly threw off the res]:)ect which had hitherto been paid to his person. His departure, which, according to the terms of the decree relative to the residence of public func- tionaries, rendered deposition imminent, caused it to be as- serted that he was deposed. Nevertheless, according to the same decree, before he could incur the penalty of dethrone- ment, he must have 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. Tlie Jacobins and the Cordeliers were violently agitated, and could not conceive how it was, that after people had got rid of the King, they could burden them- selves with him again, and that of their own accord. If the Due d'Orleans had ever entertained hopes, it was now that they might have been awakened. But he must have seen how little influence his name possessed, and above all, how ill a new sovereign, however popular he might be, would harmonize with the state of j^eople's minds. Some pamphleteers devoted to his interest, endeavoured, 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. " No King ! " 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 ]:>revailed 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 abdication ; that the nation and Louis XYI. were released from, all engagements towards one another ; finally, that history was full of the crimes of kings, and that the people ought to renounce all intention of giving themselves another. This address, attributed to young Duchatelet, was written by Thomas Paine, an Englishman, and a principal actor in the American. Eevolution.* It was denounced to the As- sembly, which, after a warm debate, deemed it right to * See Appendix TT. JULY 1 7 9 1 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 1 6 9 pass to the order of the da3% and to reply by indifference to advice and to abuse, as it had hitherto invariably done. At len^lJi the commissioners charged to make their report on the affair of AT'arennes presented it on the l6th of July. In the journey, they said, there was nothing culj^able ; and even if there were, the King was inviolable. Dethronement could not result from it, since the Kins' had not stayed awav long enough, and had not resisted the summons of the Legis- lative Body. Ivobespierre, Buzot, and Petion re]-)eated all the well- known arguments against the inviolability. Duport, Bar- nave, and Salles answered them ; and it was at length resolved that the King could not be brought to trial on account of his flight. Two articles were merely added to the decree of inviolability. No sooner was this resolution passed than Eobespierre rose and protested strongly against it in the name of humanity. On the evening preceding this decision a great tumult had taken ]:)lace at the Jacobins. A petition to the Assembly was there drawn u]3. praying it to declare that the King was deposed as a ]:)erfidious traitor to his oaths, and that it would seek to su])ply his place hy all the constitutional means. It was resolved that this ])etition should be carried on the following day to the Cliamp de ]\rars, where every one might sign it on the altar of the country. Next day it was accordingly carried to the place agreed upon, and the crowd of the seditious was reinforced bv that of the curious, who wished to be spectators of the event. At this moment the decree was ]mssed, so that it was now too late to petition. Lafayette arrived, broke down the barricades already erected, was threatened, and even fired at, but though almost close to the muzzle of the weapon, he escaped without injury. The municipal officers having joined him, at length prevailed on the populace to retire. National guards were posted to watcli their retreat, and for a moment it was Iioped that they would disperse. But the tumult was soon renewed. Two invalids, who happened to be, nobod}^ knows for what purpose, under the altar of the countr3^ were murdered, and then the uproar became unbounded. The Assembly sent for the muni- cipality, and charged it to preserve ]iublic order. Bailly repaired to the Champ de Mars, ordered the red flag to be unfurled, and by virtue of martial law, summoned the seditious to retire. This summons, whatever has been said of it, was just. People either agi'eed or did not agree to the new law^s. If they agreed to them, it was requisite that they should be 1 7 o HIS TOR Y OF july i 7 9 i executed, that there shonlcl be something fixed, that insurrec- tion should not be perpetual, and that the will of the Assembly sliould not be modified by the decisions of the mob. It was Bailly's duty, therefore, to carry the law into execution. He advanced, with that unshrinking courage which he had always displayed, was fired at several times without 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 dis- charge 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 moment, 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 several 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 departmental autho- rities, were then unanimous for the establishment of con- stitutional 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, intel- ligent, and prudent — which wished well to order and the laws ; and they could not at the moment but naturally ally themselves 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 people, who sought to gain and to raise themselves still more. Barnave was, as Mirabeau had been before him, the mouthpiece of this wise and moderate middle class ; and Lafayette was its military chief. Danton and Gamille Des- moulins* were the spokesmen, 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. Lafayette and Bailly were vehemently reproached for the proceedings in the Champ de Mars ; but both of them, con- sidering it their duty to observe the law, and to risk popu- larity and life in its execution, felt neither regTet nor fear * See Apjiendix UU. JULY 1 7 9 1 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 1 7 i for what they had done.* The factions were overawed by the energ}^ whicli they displayed. The most conspicuous began ah-eady to think of recoiling from the blows which they con- ceived to be aimed at them. Robespierre, whom we have hitherto seen supporting the most extra\agant propositions, trembled in his obscure habitation ; and notwithstanding his inviolability as a deputy, applied to all his friends for an asylum. Thus the example had the desired effect, and for a moment all the turbulent spirits were quieted by fear. About this time the 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. Robespierre was the proposer of this resolution, and it was attributed to the envy which he felt against his colleagues, among whom he had not shone. It was at least natural that he should bear them a grudge, having always been Dpposed by them ; and in his sentiments there mialit have been at once conviction, env^^ and hatred. The Assembh', wliich was accused of a desis^n to perpetuate its powers, and which, moreover, displeased the 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 b}' an experience of three years. How- ever, when we see by-and-by the cause of the subsequent revolutions, we shall be able to judge what was the importance of that measure which has been so frequently condemned. This was the moment for completing the constitutional labours of the Assembly, and for bringing its stormy career to a calm conclusion. The members of the left side intended, by means of an agreement among themselves, to amend certain parts of the constitution. It liad been resolved that it should be read throughout, in order to judge of the whole together, and to have an opportunity of making its different parts harmonize. This was called the revision, which was after- wards, in the days of the re]>ublican fervour, considered as most calamitous. Barnave and the Lameths had agreed with * tc Bailly did not seek tlic 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 his country, he would not refuse to serve it. He devoted to it moments most valuable for science ; and when we deplored the suspen- sion 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 astronomical calculations.' ''—Memoirs of a Peer of France. T 7 2 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. sept. 1791 Malouet to modify certain articles which trenched upon the royal prerogative and what was termed the stability of the throne. It was even said that the plan was to re-establish the two cliambers. It was arranged, that the moment the reading was finished. Malonet should make his attack ; that Barnave should then reply with vehemence, in order the better to disguise his intentions ; but that in defending most of the articles, he should give up some as evidently dangerous, and condemned by known experience. vSuch were the conditions agreed upon when tlie ridiculous and dangerous protests of the riglit side, Avhich had resolved to vote no more, trans]oired. Accommodation then became impossible. The left side would hear no more, and when the concerted attempt was made, the cries which burst from all fpiarters prevented Malouet and his partisans from proceed- ing.* The constitution was therefore completed with some haste, and submitted to tlie 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 palace ceased, and he had liberty to retire whithersoever he pleased, to examine the constitutional act and to accept it freely. What was Louis XVI. to do in this case ? To reject the 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 extraordinaiy joy burst forth at this intelligence, as if. in fact, some obstacle had been anticipated on the part of the King, and his assent had been an unhoped-for concession. He repaired to the Assembly, where lie was received as in the most brilliant times. Lafa^^ette, who never forgot to repair the inevitable evils of ^^olitical troubles, proposed a general amnesty for all acts connected with the Revolution, which was proclaimed amidst shouts of joy, and tlie ])risons were instantly thrown open. At lengtJi, on the 30th of September, Thouret, the last president, declared that the Constituent Assembly had terminated its sittings. * See Apprjudix VV. [oCT. 179I ] THE NATIONAL LEGISLATIVE ASSEMBLY. THE Constitnent Assembly had now terminated its long and laborious cai^eer ; and notwithstanding its noble courage, its perfect eqnitv, and its immense toils, it was hated as revolii- tionaiy 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 which 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 foimd France, and that in which it left her. In 1789 the French nation knew and felt all e\'ils 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 Avith a few complaints. Thoroughly impressed with its rights, it then declared itself to be the nation, and dared to declare this to the astonished government. 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 ascendency over a power of several centuries, and an army 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 indispen- sable for life — the Constituent Assembly ex^Derienced a violent 173 1 7 4 HIS TOR Y OF oct. 1 7 9 1 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 magistracy, for the King liad still sufficient power to up- hold 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 resign 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 magis- tracies to infinity, or that, if a single chief be appointed, he must be so well endowed as to liave no temptation to usurp. When nations, engrossed by their private interests, find it necessary to transfer the cares of government to a chief, they do right to give themselves one ; but in this case that chief must, like the kings of England, possess in reality the greatest ])art of the sovereignty, and the power of convoking and dissolving the national assemblies, without being compelled to obey their mandates, sanctioning them C)nly when he thinks fit, and being prevented only from doing what is mischievous. The dignity of man can still be ]3reserved under such a govern- ment, when the law is strictly observed, 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 pre- rogatives, submit to take a secondary part, and yield the supreme power to a chief, lest he should feel an inclination to usurp it. The Constituent Assembly was equally incapable with the nation itself of consenting to such an abdication. It reduced the King, therefore, to a mere hereditary magis- trate, hoping that the nation would leave him that, and that he would himself be content witli this magistracy, still resplendent 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 confer on it all the power that England grants to her monarchs ? 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 monarch}^ into OCT. 1 79 1 THE FIIENCR BEVOLUTION. 175 a republic. Moreover, possession carries with it ' authority, and if the Assembly had despoiled the reigning dynasty, what would not its enemies have said, who accused it of violating property because it attacked feudal rights ? On the other hand, it could not confer on the King the absr)lute v<_"to. the appointment of the judges, and other similar prerogatives, because public opinir)n was adverse to such con- cessions ; and as tliis opinion constituted its only strength, the Asseml)ly was obliged to defer to it. With regard to the establishment of a single chamber, its error was perhaps more real, but just as inevitable. If it was dangerous to leave nothing but the remembrance of power to a king who had ]3ossessed it entire, while legislating for a people desirous of wresting from him the last remnant of it, much more false was it in principle not to recognize social inequalities and gradations, when they are admitted by republics themselves, and when in all of tliem tliere is a senate either hereditary or elective. J]iit we must not require of men and minds more than they are capable of at the time. How can the necessity of ranks l^e recognized at the moment of a re\(:»lt against tlieir injustice? How is it possible to constitute an aristocracy at the moment when war is proclaimed against aristocracy ? To constitute royalty would have been an easier task, because placed apart from the people, it would ha\ e 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 Assembl}^ they existed in the nation ; and the course of events will prove that if the Assembly had left the King and the aristocracy all the powers which it did not leave them, the Revolution would nevertheless have taken place, even to its greatest excesses. To be convinced of this we must make a distinction between the revolutions 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 Roine, at Athens, and elsewhere, we see the people and their chiefs disputing for the greater or less share of authority. Among modern nations entirely stripped of it the course is different. Completely subjected, their slumber is long. The more enliglitened classes are the first to awake. These rouse themselves and recover a portion of power. The awakening is progressive. Ambition is progres- sive too, and keeps spreading to the lowest classes, till the whole mass is in motion. Presently, satisfied with what they 1 7 6 HISTOR Y OF oct. i 7 9 i have obtained, the enlightened classes wish to stop ; but they can no longer do so, and are incessantly pushed forward by those behind them. Those wlio 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 enough to perceive what was due to those who had everytlung, and to those who had notliing, it wished to leave the former part of what they possessed, because they had always possessed it, and to ])rocure for the latter, above all things, knowledge, and the rights whicli it confers. But regret sways the one, ambition the other. Eegret wishes to recover all, ambition to conquer all, and a war of extermina- tion 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 tliis immense task, but fail in endeavouring to persuade the one to yield something, the other not to grasp at everything. The Constituent Assembly, in its equitable allotments, had shown forbearance towards the former possessors of power. Louis XVI., witli 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 absolute power. The clerg)^ 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 considerable 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 reasonable 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 goodwill and resignation. The robe and OCT. 1 7 9 1 THE FRENCH BE VOL UTIOK 1 7 7 the sword were ensured to its talents : why then was it not all at once inspired with a generous emulation ? What an avowal of incapacity did it not make in regretting the favours of former times I The old pensioners had been spared ; the ecclesiastics had received indemnities ; every one had been treated with indul- gence : 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 recovering by means of the legislation the prerogatives which he regretted. He had but one course to pursue — to be resigned and to uphold the constitution, unless he reckoned upon the foreign powers. But he hoped very little from their zeal, and distrusted the emigrants. He decided, therefore, in favour of the former line of conduct ; and what proves his sin- cerity is, that he meant frankly to point out to the Assembly the defects which he found in the constitution. But he was dissuaded from doing so, and he resolved to trust to time for those restitutions of power which he deemed his due. The Queen was not less resigned. ■' Courage ! " said she to Ber- trand the minister, 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 be- lieve, that if she had had other thoughts to utter, she would not have hesitated to express them before Bertrand de Molleville.* The old Assembly had broken up. Its members had re- turned to the bosom of their families, or were scattered throughout Baris. Some of the most conspicuous, such as Lameth, Duport, Barnave, communicated mth the Court, and ga^'e it their advice. But the King, resolved as he was to observe the constitution, could not make up his mind to follow the advice that he received ; for not onlv was it recommended to him not to violate that constitution, but bv all his acts to induce the belief that he was sincerelv attached to it. These members of the late Assembly, joined by Lafayette since the revision, were the chiefs of that first revolutionary genera- tion, which had laid down the first rules of libertv, and desired that they should be adhered to. They were supported by the national guard, whom long service under Lafayette had strongly attached to him and to his princijiles. The con- stituents then fell into an error — that of disdaining the new Assembly, and frecpiently irritating it by their contempt. A sort of aristocratic vanity had already seized these first * Sec Appendix WW. VOL. I, 1;J * 1 7 8 HISTOR Y OF oct. i 79 i 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 included enlightened partisans of the first Revolu- tion : Ramond, Girardin, Yaublanc, 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 the riglit of the second. Next to the constitutionalists came many distinguished men whose heads were heated and whose expectations were exaggerated by the Revolution. Witnesses of the labours of the Constituent Assembly, and impatient as lookers-on, they were of opinion that enough had not yet been done. They durst not avr)W themselves republicans, because on all sides people mutually exhorted one another to be faithful to the constitution ; but the ex- periment of a republic which had been made during the journey of Louis XVI., and the suspicious intentions of the Court, were incessantly leading theu^ minds back to that idea ; and they could not but attach themselves to it more and more from their continual hostilities with the government. 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 de])artments, derived the name of Girondins. Condorcet,* a writer celebrated for the comprehensiveness of his ideas, and for an extreme austerity of mind and character, was its writer ; and Verg- niaud,t a pure and persuasive extempore speaker, was its orator. This party, increased 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, with its severe virtues and mannei's. Enthusiasm and veliemence were, of course, its princi]ial characteristics. Such a party could not but ha\'e its extremes. There were Bazire, Merlin de Thion^'ille. and others, who, though its in- feriors in talent, were its superiors in boldness. They be- came the party of the Mountain, when after tlie overthrow of the throne they separated from the Girondins. Tliis second Assembly had also, like the first, a middle mass, whicli, without being bound to any party, voted first wdtli the one, and then with the other. Under the Constituent Assembly, when real liberty still prevailed, this mass had remained independent ; * See Appendix XX, t See Appendix YY. OCT. 1 7 9 1 THE FRENCH BE VOL UTION. 1 7 9 but as it was not so from energy but from indifference, in the subsequent Assemblies, and during the reign of violence, it became cowardly and contemptible, and received the trivial and ignominious name of helly (ventre). The clubs gained at this period a ^'ery different kind of im- portance. Agitators under the Cnnstitnent, they became rulers under the Legislati^•e Assembly. The National Assembly could not contain all the ambitious ; they betook themselves there- fore to the clnbs, ^vhere tliey found a theatre for their de- clamations 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 to 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 them himself. The oldest of the clubs, that of the Jacobins, had acquired extraordinary importance. A church was scarcely sufficient 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 acti^'e correspondence kept up the zeal of the societies which were scattered over the entire sm-face of France, and were called affiliated societies. This club, from its seniority and persever- ing violence, had constantly maintained an ascendency over all those that had desired to show themselves more moderate or even more vehement. After the ionrnev to Varennes, the Lameths, with all its most distinguished members, left it and joined the Feuillans. In this latter were blended all the attempts at moderate clubs, attem]its 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, or partisans of the first Eevolution, now met. Hence the name of Feuillant became a 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 successful 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 1 80 HISTOnY OF OCT. 1 79 1 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 repaired thither in the train of Danton, to swell the majority in his favour. Robespierre, whom we have seen in the time of the Con- stituent Assembly distinguishing himself by the severity of his principles, was excluded from thy Legislative Assembly by the decree of non-re-election, to the passing of which he had himself contributed. He had entrenched himself at the Jaco- bins, 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 oaken courage, and continued the work of his popularity. Ilobes])ierre had found two rivals whom he began to hate, Brissot * and Louvet.f Brissot, mixed up with all the men of the first Assembly, a friend of Mirabeau and Lafayette, known to be a republican, and one (A the most distinguished members of the Legislature, was fickle in character, but remarkable for certain qualities of mind. Louvet, with an ardent spirit, an excellent under- standing, and great boldness, was one of those who, having outstripped the Constituent Assembly, dreamt of a republic. Hence they naturally approximated to the Girondins. His cr)ntests with Eobespierre soon attached him still more to them. This party of the C4ironde, formed by degrees, without design, by men possessing too much merit to all}^ themselves to the populace, and distinction enough to be envied by it and its leaders, and who were united rather by their situation than by any concert, was destined to be brilliant but weak, and to fall before the more resolute factions which sprang up around it. iSuch then was the state of France. The lately privileged persons had retired beyond the Bhine. The partisans of the constitution comprehended the right of the Assembly, the national guard, and the club of the Feuillans. Tlie Girondins had the majority in the Assembly, but not in the clubs, where low \dolence had greater sway. Lastly, the hot-headed demo- crats of this new epoch, seated on the highest benches of the * See Appendix ZZ. t "Jean Baptiste Louvet de Couvray was an advocate, and distinguished actor in the Revolution. He attached himself to the Girondins, and was in- cluded 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 sul3sequently published an account of his adventures during the time of his proscription— a work written in a romantic style, and wliich has been translated into many languages. Louvet died at Paris in 1797. He is cliielly kudwu in literature as the author of that licentious novel, The Chevalier Faublas." — Eiicydopcedia Americana, OCT. 1 7 9 1 THE FB,ENCH BE VOL UTTON. 1 8 i Assembly, and thence denominated tltc Mountain, were all- powerful in the clubs and among the populace. Lafayette had resigned all military rank, and had been ac- companied to his country-seat by the homage and regi'et of his companions in arms. The command had not been conferred on a new general ; but six cliiefs of legions commanded by turns the whole national guard. Bailly, the faithful ally of Lafayette during those three arduous years, likewise resigned the mayoralty. The voices of the electors were divided between Lafayette and Petion ; but the Court, which would not at any rate have Lafayette, who was nevertheless favourably disposed towards it, preferred Petion, though a republican. It hoped more from his coldness, which it mistook for stupidity, hwt which w^as cjuite the reverse, and it incurred considerable ex- pense in order to secure him a majority. He was accordingly appointed mayor. Petion, with an enlightened understanding, a cold but settled conviction, and considerable address, con- stantly served the repuldicans against the Court, and found himself allied to the Gironde by conformity of views, and by the envy wliich his new dignity excited among the Jacobins. If, however, notwithstanding these dispositions of the parties, the King could have been relied upon, it is possible that the distrust of the CTirondins might have worn off, and that, the pretext for disturbances no longer existing, the agitators would thenceforward have found no pretexts for urging the populace to commotion. The intentions of the King were formed ; but he was 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 was liable to more than one outrage. His disposition, though good, was not without a certain ten- dency to ill-humour. His resolutions were in consequence easily shaken by the first faults of the Assembly. This Assembly having been constituted, took the oath with pomp on the book of the constitution. Its first decree relative to the ceremonial abolished the titles of Sire and Majesty, usually given to the King. It ordered, moreover, that whenever he appeared in the Assembly he should sit in an arm-chair exactly siiAilar to that of the president. Such \\'ere the first results of the republican spirit, and the pride of Louis XVI. was cruelly wounded by them. To spare himself wdiat he regarded 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 1 82 HISTORY OF oct. 1791 example of recantation. The King then went, and was warmly received. Unluckily it had been decreed that if the King con- tinued sitting, the members should likewise keep their seats. They did so, and Louis XVI. considered this as a fresh insult. The applause with which he was gTeeted could not heal the wound. He returned home pale and with agitated looks. No sooner was he alone with the Queen than he threw him- self 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 shaken by this treatment.* If, howe\ er. 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 A'arennes 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 that 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 Kussia, because they were more immediately compromized b}^ a war. Crust avus, who dreamt of some brilliant expedition against France, replied to the notification that he did not consider the Kins: 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 expres- sions. Spain also, importuned by the emigrants of Coblentz, abstained from speaking out ; alleging that she wished for time to ensure the liberty of the King. She nevertheless de- clared that she had no intention of disturbing the tranquillity of the kingdom. Such answers, not one of which was hostile, the assured neutrality of England, the hesitation of Frederick ^Mlliam, the * See Madame Campan, tome ii. p. 129. OCT. I 7 9 1 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION, 1 8 -> pacijfic and well-known disposition of Leopold, all seemed to promise peace. It is impossible to tell what passed in the vacillating mind of Louis X\ I. ; but his evident interest, and tlie very fears with wliich the war subsequently filled him, must induce a belief tliat he. too. was desirous of the main- tenance of peace. Amidst this general concert, tlie emigrants alone continued to be obstinately bent on war, and to prepjare for it. They still kept thronging to Cobleiitz, where with great activity they armed tliemselves, prepared magazines, con- tracted for accoutrements, and formed skeletons of regiments, wliich. however, were not filled up, for none of them would become soldiers. jMoreover, they instituted ranks which were sold ; and if they attempted nothing really dangerous, they nevertlieless made great preparations, wliich they themselves deemed formidable, and bv which thev expected to strike terror into the imagination of the Frencli people.* The grand point was to ascertain whetlier Louis XVL were favourable to them or not ; and it was difficult to suppose that he could be otherwise tlian well-disposed tow^ards kinsmen and servants wluj were taking up arms to restore to him his former powers. It would have required nothing less than the utmost sincerity and continual demonstrations to produce a contrary conviction. The letters of the King to the emigi'ants con- tained invitations, nay, even orders, to return ; but he kept up, it was said,! ^ secret correspondence, which contradicted his public corres^^ondence, and destroyed its effect. That secret communications took place w^itli Coblentz cannot indeed be denied ; but I cannot believe that Louis XVI. made use of til em to contradict the injunctions which he had publicly addressed to the emigrants. His most evident interest was that they should return, Tlieir presence at Coblentz could not be serviceable so long as they entertained the design of fighting ; and Louis XVI. dreaded civil war above all things. Not desiring then tliat the emigrants should employ their swords on the Rhine, it was better that he sliould have them about him, that he might employ them as occasion required, * "The continued and increasinrr emigration of the landholders contributed in the greatest degree to unhinge the public mind, and jiroved, perhaps, in the end the greatest cause of the subseipient miseries of the Revolution. Their number was by this time, with their families, nearly one liundred thousand of tlie most wealthy and influential body in France. Coblentz became the centre of this anti-revolutionary party. In thus deserting their country at the most critical period of its history, tlie French nobility betrayed equal baseness and imprudence." — Alison. t See Appendix AAA. I 82 HISTORY OF OCT. 1 79 1 example of recantation. The King then went, and was warmly received. Unluckily it had been decreed that if the King con- tinned sitting, the members should likewise keep their seats. They did so, and Louis X\^I. considered this as a fresh insult. The applause with which he was gi-eeted could not heal the wound. He returned home pale and with agitated looks. No sooner was he alone with the Queen than he threw him- self into a chair, sobbing. "Ah! madam," he exclaimed, " you witnessed this humihation ! 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 shaken by this treatment.*' If, however, he hencefortli 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, eitlier 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 A'arennes 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 ■])roceeded 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 that 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 Kussia, because they were more immediately compromized 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. H(_tlland, the Italian principalities, and Switzerland in particular, gave satisfactory answers. The Electors of Treves and Mentz, in whose territories the emigrants resided, used evasive expres- sions. Spain also, importuned b}^ the emigrants of Coblentz, abstained from speaking out ; alleging that she wished for time to ensure the liberty of the King. She nevertheless de- clared that she had no intention of disturbing the tranquillity of the kingdom. Such answers, not one of which was hostile, the assured neutrality of England, the hesitation of Frederick William, the * See Madame Oanipan, tome ii. p. 129, OCT. I 7 9 1 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 1 8 3 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 X\'I. ; but his evident interest, and the very fears with wliich the war subsequently filled him, must induce a belief that he, too, was desirous of the main- tenance of peace. Amidst this general concert, the emigrants alone continued to be obstinately bent on war. and to prepare for it. They still kept tlironging to Coblentz, where with great activity they armed tliemselves. prepared magazines, con- tracted for accoutrements, and formed skeletons of regiments, which, however, were nut filled up. for none of them would become soldiers. j\loreover, they instituted ranks which were sold ; and if they attempted nothing really dangerous, they nevertheless made great preparations, which they themselves deemed formidable, and by which they expected to strike terror into the imagination of the French people.* Tile grand point was to ascertain whether Louis XVI. were favourable to them or not ; and it was difficult to suppose that he could be otherwise than well-disposed towards kinsmen and servants who were taking up arms to restore to him his former powers. It w^ould have required nothing less than the utmost sincerity and continual demonstrations to produce a contrary conviction. The letters of the King to the emigi^ants con- tained invitations, nay. even orders, to return ; but he kept up, it was said.j 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 tliem to contradict tlie injunctions which he had publicly addressed to the emigrants. His most evident interest was that they should return. Their presence at Coblentz could not be serviceable so long as they entertained the design of fighting; and Louis W'l. dreaded civil war above all things. N'ot desiring then tliat the emigrants should employ their swords on the Rhine, it was better that he should have them about him, that he might employ them as occasion required, * "The continued and increasinr,' emigration of the landholders contributed in the greatest degree to unhinge tlie public mind, and proved, perhaps, in the end the greatest cause of the subserpient miseries of the Revolution. Their number was by this time, witli their families, nearly one hundred thousand of the most wealthy and influential body in France. Coblentz became the centre of this anti-revolutionary party. In thus deserting their country at the most critical period of its history, the French nobility betrayed equal baseness and imprudence." — Alison. t See Appendix AAA. 1 8 4 HI ST OR Y OF oct. 1 7 9 1 and combine their efforts Avith those of the constitutionalists for the protection of his person and his throne. Moreover, their presence at Coblentz provoked severe laws, which he would n(.»t sanction — a refusal which compromized him with the Assembly ; and we shall see tliat it was the use which he now made of the veto tliat completely stripped him of popu- larity, and caused him to be considered as an accomplice of the emigrants. It would be strange if he had not perceived the cogencv of tliese reasons, wliich was felt by all his ministers, who were unanimously of opinion that tlie 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 J3ertrand de Molle- ville himself,* whose principles were anytliing but constitutional, '"It was necessary." says he. "to use all possible means to increase the popularity of tlie King. Tlie most efficacious and the most useful of all at this moment was to recall the emigrants. Tlieir return, generally desired, would have revived in France tlie roj^'alist party, wliich the emigration had com- pletely disorganized. Tliis party, strengthened by the unpopu- larit}" 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, tlie explosion — more or less speedy — which there was every reason to expect." Louis XVI., conformably with this advice of his ministers, addressed exhortations 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. The minister at war reported that nineteen hundred officers had deserted. The Assembly could not moderate its wrath, and resolved to take vigorous measures. Tlie Constituent Assembly had gone no further than to decree that public functionaries who were out of the kingdom should be superseded, and that the property of emigrants should be burdened with a tri])le contribution, to indemnify the State for the services of which they deprived it by tlieir absence. The new Assembly proposed more severe penalties. Several plans were ]3resented. Brissot distinguislied three classes of emigrants : the leaders of the desertion, the public functionaries who abandoned their duties, and lastly, those who OLit of fear had lied from their country. They ought, * Tome vi. p. 42. OCT. 1 79 1 THE FRENCH BEVOLUTTON. 185 he said, to deal severely with the former, to despise and pity the others. It is certain that the liberty of man does not allow him to be chained down to the soil ; but when a certainty is ob- tained, from a multitude of circumstances, tliat 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 precautions against such dangerous projects. The debate was long and warm. The constitutionalists condemned all the measures proposed, and asserted that they ought to despise useless attempts, as their predecessors had invariably done. The opposite party, liowever, carried their point ; and a first decree was passed, enjoining Monsieur, the King's brother, to return within two months, in default of which he should lose liis eventual rio-ht to the reyencv. A second and more severe decree was le\elled against the emigrants in general : it declared that the French assembled beyond tlie frontiers of the kingdom were suspected of conspiring against France; tiiat if on the ist of January next they still continued assembled, they sliould be declared guilty of conspiracy, prosecuted as such, and punished witli 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. The 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 onl}- to obey. Those who, when apprized of the term beyond whicli absence from the kingdom became a crime, should not return, would consent by this very circumstance to pass for criminals. It was incumbent on those who without any hostile or political motive were out of the kingdom, to hasteii 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 X\"I., 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 afiSxed his veto to the law against the emigrants. The 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 the emigrants, profound 1 86 HISTORY OF Nov. 1791 silence pervaded the Assembly ; and when the keeper of the seals pronounced the official formula, TJie King will examine it, great discontent was expressed on all sides. He would have entered into a development of the forms of the veto, but a great number of voices were 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 irritation. This first resistance of the King to the Assembly was a definitive rupture ; and though he had sanctioned the 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 in- surgents at Coblentz. They considered that he was their kinsman, their friend, and in some degree their copartner ; and thence concluded that it was impossible for him not to make common cause with them against the nation. The very next day Louis XVI. published 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 them to put an end by their return to the distrust which evil-disposed persons took delight 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 con- trary the veto which he had just affixed in their favour.* Be this as it might, those reasons produced neither at Cob- lentz nor at Paris the effect which they were, or appeared to be, intended to produce. The emigrants 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 ]:)roclamation, and above all, to suffer the King to substitute a useless measure for the vigorous resolutions which had just been adopted. A similar trial was at tlie same moment imposed upon the King, and produced an ecpially unfortunate result. The first religious disturbances had broken out in the West ; the Con- stituent Assembly had sent tliitlier two commissioners, one of whom was Gensonnc, 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 * See Appendix BBB. NOV. I 7 9 1 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 1 8 7 with indignation. It will be recollected that the Constituent Assembly, in depriving the nonjnring priests of their functions, had nevertheless left them a pension, and liberty to perform religious service apart. They had ever since endeavoured to excite the people against their colleagues who had taken the oath, and inveighed against them as impious wretches whose ministiy was null and dangerous. They drew the peasants after them to great distances for the pur])ose of saying mass to them. The latter were mitated to see their churches occu- pied by a worsliip which they were taught to consider as bad, and to be obliged to go so far in quest of that which they looked upon as good. Ci\il war was imminent.* Fresh infor- mation communicated to the Assembly proved that the danger had become still greater. It then determined to adopt mea- sures against tliese new enemies of the constitution similar to those which it had taken against the armed enemies beyond the Rhine, and to put the disposition of the King to a new test. 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 public worship paid by the State, retained their pensions as mere ecclesiastics, and the liberty of exercising their ministry in private. Nothing could be milder or more moderate than such a restriction. The Legislative Assembly required the oath to be taken anew, and deprived those who refused of any salary whatever. As they abused their liberty by exciting civil war, it ordered that according to their conduct they should be removed 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, relati\'e to the conduct of each of them. This measure, as well as that which had just been taken against the emigrants, originated in the anxiety which seizes governments that are threatened to surround themselves with excessive ]:)recautions. It is not the ascertained fact which they punish, but the presumed attack against Avhich they pro- ceed, and their measures become as arbitrary and cruel as they are suspicious. The bishops and the priests who had remained in Paris, and who had kept up a correspondence with the King, immediately sent to him a memorial against the decree. The King, who * See Appendix CCC. 1 8 8 HIST OR Y OF Nov. 1 7 9 1 was already full of scruples, and had always reproaclied him- self for having sancticaied the decree of the Constituent Assembly, needed no encouragement for this refusal. "As for this," said he, speaking of the new plan, "they shall take my life before they slmll oblige me to sanction it." The ministers were nearly all of the same opinion. Barnave and Lameth, whom the King occasionally consulted, advised him to refuse his sanction : but to this counsel tliev added other recommendations, which the King could not make up his mind to follow. These were, that in ojiposing the decree he should not leave any doubt respecting his disposition, and for this purpose he should remove 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 Kiiig adopted only such as harmonized witli his weakness or his devotion. Duport-Dutertre, keeper of the seals, and the organ of tlie constitutionalists with the ministry, procured its appro- bation f»f their advice ; and when the council had decided, to the Q,Teat satisfaction of Louis XVI.. that the veto should be affixed, he added, as his opinion, that it w^ould be w^ell to sur- round the person of the King with priests who were not liable to suspicion. To this proposal Louis XA^L, usually so flexible, manifested invincible obstinacy, and said that the freedom of religious Avorship, decreed for ever3^bod3", 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 ]:iarty. to which the King seemed to con- sign himself at this moment, brought him a fresh reinforce- ment. This was the directory of the department, which was composed of the most esteemed members of the Constitutional Assembly. Among them were the Due de la Rochefoucauld, the Bishop of Autun, Baumetz, Desmeuniers, Ansons, &c. 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 loA'e to avenge it here on its guilty detractors ; but so laudable a design has propelled it towards measures of which neither the constitution, justice, nor prudence can a^iprove. It makes the payment of the pensions of all ecclesiastics not in office depend on the taking of the civic oath, wdiereas the constitution has expressly and literally classed those pensions NOV. 1 7 9 1 THE FRENCH BE VOL UTION. 1 8 9 with the public debts. Now, can the refusal to take any oath whatever destroy the title of an acknowledged credit? The Constituent Assembly has done what it could do on behalf of the nonjuring priests ; tliey refused to take the prescribed oath, and it has deprived them of their functions ; in dispossessing them it has reduced them to a pension. The Legislative Assembly proposes 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 imprison- ment, one who has not yet been convicted of having offended against any law ? The National Assembly refuses all those who shall not take the civic oath the free exercise of their re- ligious worship. Now, this liberty cannot be wrested from any person : it is guaranteed for ever in the declaration of rights." These reasons were certainly excellent ; but it is impossible to alla)^ with arguments either tlie 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 ]ietition to the King was combated by a multitude of others addressed to the Legislative Body. Camille 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 recpiired ; that the directory ouoiit 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 XVI., though determined to refuse his sanction, hesitated to acquaint the Assembly with his resolution. He wished first by certain acts to conciliate the ]3ublic opinion. He selected his ministers from among the constitutional party. Montmorin,* weary of his laborious career under the Constituent * "Of all the men who played an important part in the Revolution ]\I. de ]\Iontmorin is perhaps the person who is the 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 energy. This moral weakness had its source in a sickly constitution, and can no more be imputed to him as a crime than his being of a low stature and slender frame of body." — Bcrtrand de Molleville, I90 HISTORY OF nov. 1791 Assembly, and of his arduous negotiations with all the parties, conld not be induced to encounter the storms of a new Legisla- ture, 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, relin- quished that of the interior. Delessart, an upright and enlightened man, was under the influence of the constitu- tionalists, or Feuillans ; but he was too weak to fix the will of the King, and to overawe foreign powers and domestic factions. Cahier 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 head of the war department by the party which then composed the ministry. He might have had a beneficial influence upon the council, and reconciled the Assemblv with the Kinp\ if he had not had an adversary in Bertrand de Molleville, a counter-revolutionary minister, who was preferred b}^ the Court to all the others."^ Bertrand de Molleville, detesting the constitution, artfully w^'a^Dped himself up in the letter for the purpose of attacking its spirit, and sincerely desired that the King would attempt to execute it, "merely," as he said, "to prove that it was not practicable." The 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 o^^inion by these appointments, he tried other means for attaching it to him still more ; and he appeared to accede to all the diplomatic and military measures proposed against the assemblages formed upon the Ehine. The last repressive laws had been prevented by the veto, and yet every day fresh denunciations apprized the Assembly of the preparations and the threats of the emigrants. The reports ( irroc^s-verhaux) of the municipalities and departments on the frontiers, and the accounts given by commercial men coming from beyond the Rhine, attested that the Vicomte de Mirabeau, brother of the celebrated member of the Constituent Assemblv, was at the head of six hundred men in the bishopric of Strasburg ; that in the territory of the * "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 sixtli, M. de Narbonne, a constitutionalist, full of ardour and activity. The latter had cause to be dissatisiied 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." — Lafayette's Memoirs, NOV. 1 79 1 THE FRENCH BE VOL UTION. 1 9 1 Elector of Mentz, and near Worms, there were numerous corps of emigTants, under the command of the Prince de Conde ; that the same was tlie case at Coblentz and through- out the whole electorate of Treves ; that outrages and acts of violence had been committed upon Frenchmen ; and lastly, that a proposal liad been made to General Wimpfen to deliver up New Brisach. These accounts, in addition to many other circumstances that were matter of ]:)ublic notoriety, drove the Assembly to the last degree of irritation. 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 commenced. Isnard* was the first speaker. He insisted upon the necessity of ensuring the tranquillity of the kingdom, not in a temporaiy but in 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 tliem- selves. The conduct of the Frenchman ought to correspond with his new destiny. A slave under Louis XVI., he was nevertheless intrepid and great. Now that lie is free, ought he to be weak and timid ? Thev are mistaken, said Montes- quieu, who imagine that a people in a state of revolution are disposed to be conquered. They are ready, on the contrary, to conquer others, (Aj^plausc.) ''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 who 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 hauohtv race, and force it to endure the punishment of equaUty. " Talk to the ministers, to the King, and to Europe, the language befitting the representatives of France. Tell the ministers that so far vou are not satisfied with their conduct, and that by responsibility you mean death. {Prolonged ap- pilcmse.) Tell Europe that you will respect the constitutions * See Appendix DDD. 1 9 2 HISTOR Y OF dec. i 7 9 i o£ all other countries ; but that if a war of kings is raised against France, yon 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 perfidious 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 con- soled 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 supported was instantly adopted. M. de A^aublanc was directed to carry it to the King, at the head of a 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 the assemblages formed on the frontiers. At the same time it prayed the King to accelerate the negotiations commenced respecting the iudemnities due to the ])rinces who had possessions in Alsace. M. de A aublanc accompanied this decree witli a firm and re- spectful address, Avhich was highly a])plauded 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 vou. Sire, what would have been the conduct of Louis XIV. V Would he have suffered 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 X\'^I. having determined, as we have said, to counter- act the effect of the veto by acts which should gratify public opinion, resolved to go to the Assembly and ])ersonally reply to its message in a speech likely to give it satisfaction. On the 14th of December, in the evening, the King accord- ingly went, after having announced his intention in the morn- ing by a mere note. He said that tlie message of the Assembly deserved mature consideration, and that in a circumstance in which French honour was involved, he deemed it riglit to come in person ; that, sharing the intentions of the Assembly, but dreading the scourge of war, he had endeavoured to bring back DEC. I 7 9 1 THE FEE NCR EE VOL UTION. 1 9 3 the misled French ; that friendly remonstrances ha^ing proved ineffectual, he had anticipated the message of tlie representa- tives, and signilied to tlie Elect(n-s that if before the I5tli of January tln' assi^mhlage of tron]:)s should not ha^'e 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 tliat in case satisfaction were not obtained, lie should pro- pose war. He concluded with saying that it would be vain to attem]it to surround tlie exercise of his authority with disgust; tluat lie W(.)uld faithfully guard the deposit of the constitution ; and that lu- deeply felt how glorious it was to be King of a free people. Applause succeeded tlu^ silence, and made the King amends for the reception wliich he had ex])erienced on entering. The Assembly Jia^ing 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. Narl^onne soon afterwards entered to communicate tlie means which had been adopted to ensure 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 not impossible. Three generals were appointed to command them. Luckner. Rochambeau, and Lafayette.* The last name was recei\ed with applause. Nar- bonne added tliat he should set out immediately to inspect the frontiers, 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, thougli the legal number of marshals was complete, it would not ])ermit the King to confer that rank on tlie two o-enerals. Luckner and Rochambeau, who were charged to save liberty. Acclamations te.stitied the consent of the Assembly, and the satisfaction caused l^y the activity of the young minister. It was by persevering in such conduct that Louis XVI. 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 afiixed 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 * Sec Appendix EEE. VOL. I. 13 1 94 HISTOll Y OF dec. i 7 9 i ot" aristocracy, and tlu' appointment of new ones. Owing to these ])recantions tlie message was receiv(/d without a murmur, '^^rhe Assembly iiKh'cd ex])ecte'd it. and tlie sensation was not so unfavourable as might have been apprehended. We see how extreuiely cauti()ns the Kiug was obliged to be in making use (.)f liis prerogati\ e. and what danger he incurred in employ- ing* it. Had the Constituent Assembly, which is accused of ha\'ing 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 efi'ect of the absolute veto ? 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 prerogatives which ruined Louis X^^I., but the indiscreet use of those which were left him. The activity promised to the Assembly was not delayed. The propositions for the expenses of the war and for the nomination of the two marshals, Luckner and iiochambeau, followed with- out 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. Jiattalions of the national guard escorted him on leaving Paris, and everything proved to him tliat the name of Lafayette was not forgotten, but that he was still res'arded as one of the founders of liberty. Meanwhile Leopold, naturally ]:)eaceful. was not desirous of war, for he knew that it was not consistent witli his interests ; but he wished for a congress, backed by an imposiiig force, in order to bring about an accommodation and some modifications in the constitution. The emigrants wished not to modify but to destroy it.* i\Iore prudent and better informed, the Emperor knew that it was necessary to concede a great deal to the new opinions, and that the utmost that could be expected was 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.f * "The emigrants were unanimous iu tlieir desire for an invasion, and in their exertions at all foreign Courts. M. de Calonne, tlie principal agent of the princes, had publicly said at Brussels, 'If the i)0wers 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 withheld by her reluctance to lay herself under obligations to Monsieur, whom she never liked, and the Comte d'Artois, whom she no longer liked. 'The Comte d'Artois will then become a hero ! ' she exclaimed in a tone of bitterness." — Lafayette's Memoirs. t Sec Appendix FFF. DEC. 1791 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 195 This last measure was the most dreaded, and it was with tlie plan of it that tli(.^ Fenillant or constitutional party was most frequently re]iroaclied. It is certain that if this party had in the early time of the (Jon.stitnent Assembh^ opposed the upper chamber, because it justly appreliended that the mjbility would there entrencli themselves, it liad not now tlie same fears. On the contrary, it liad just ho])es of filling such a chamber almost of itself. Many con.stituents. reduced to mere cipliers, would there have found occasion to appear again on the political stage. If then this upper chamber did not accord with their views, still less did it accord with their interests. It is certain that the newspapers frequentl}^ adverted to it. and tluit this report was universally circulated. How rapid liad been the progress of the Revolution ! 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 S3'stem, but the establishment of an upper chamber. What a difference from 1789! How swiftly a foolish resistance had hiuTied on vents. Leopold perceived tlien no other possible amelioration for Louis X\'I. Mean^^'hile his object was to protract the nego- tiations, and without breaking with France, to awe her by his firmness. But this aim he thwarted bv his answer. This answer consisted in a notification of the resolutions of the Diet of Katisbon, which refused to accept any indemnity for the princes who had possessions in Alsace. Nothing could be more absiu'd than such a decision ; for the whole territory subject to one and tlie same rule ought also to be subject 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 rigfhts, and the Constituent Assemblv had done a great deal in granting indemnities for them. Several of those princes having already treated on this point, the Diet annulled their agreements, and forbade them to accept an}" composition. The empire thus pretended not to recognize the Revolution in as far as itself was concerned. With regard to the assemblages of emigrants, Leopold, without entering into explanation on the subject of tlieir dispersion, answered Louis XVI., that as the Elector of Treves might, according to the intimations of the French government, be exposed to speedy hostilities, he had ordered General Bender to give him prompt assistance. Nothing could have been more injudicious than this answer. It obliged Louis X\"I., in order that he might not compromise himself, to adopt vigorous measures and to propose war. Delessart was immediately sent to the Assembly to communi- 1 9 6 IIISTOR Y OF dec. i 7 9 i cate this answer, and to express tlie astoiiisliment which the King felt at the conduct oi* Leopold. The minister alleged that the Emperor had probably been deceived, and that he had been falsely persuaded that the Elector had performed all the duties of a friendly neighbour. Delessart communicated also the reply returned to Leopold. It w^as intimated to him, that notwithstanding his answer and the orders given to Marshal Bender, if the Electors had not by the tiine prescribed, namely, the I5tli of January, complied with the recpiisition of France, arms would be employed against them. "If," said Louis X\'I. 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 be obliged to light her own children and her allies, I will make know^n to Europe the justice of our cause : the French people will uphold it by their courage, and the nation will see that I have no other interest but its interests, and that I shall ever consider the maintenance of its dignity and safety as the most essential of my duties." These words, in which the King seemed in the common danger to unite with the nation, were warmly applauded. The papers were delivered to the diplomatic committee, with directions to irake a s^^eedy report upon them to the Assembly. The Queen was once more applauded at the ( )pera as in the days of her splendour and her power, and quite overjoyed, she told her husband on her return that she had been received as formerly. But this was the last hoinage paid to her by a people which had once idolized her royal graces. That feeling of equality, Avliich remains so long dormant in men, and which is so capricicnis when it does awake, began already to manifest itself on all sides. It was very near the conclusion of the year 1 79 1 ; 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 tliat the folding-doors of the council chamber had not been opened for it. The discus- sion was scandalous, and the Assembly, in writing to the King, suppressed the titles of Sire and Majesty. On anctther occasion a deputy entered the King's apartment with his hat on, and in a very unsuitable dress. This conduct was frequently provoked by the rude reception given 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. Bocham- DEC. 1 7 9 1 TEE FBENCH RE VOL UTIOK 1 9 7 beau, a veteran general, who had formerly displayed ability in war, but who was now ailing, ill-humoured, and discontented, commanded the army stationed in Flanders, and called the army oi the North. Lafayette had the army of the centre, and was encamped near Metz. Luckner, an old warrior, an ordinary general, a bra^'e soldier, and very popular in the army for his exclusiveh' military maimers, commanded the corps which occupied Alsace. These were all the generals that a long peacf and a general desertion had left us. Ilochambeau, dissatisfied with the new svstem. and irritated with the want of discipliue which prevailed in the army, was constantly complaining, and held out no hope to the ministers. Lafayette, young, active, and anxious to distinguish himself forthwith in the defence of the countrv. re-established dis- cipline among his troops, and overcame all the difficulties raised by the ill-\N'ill (»f the oflScers, 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 ]:)ensions in France, or ]:)assports for foreign countries ; but that if they persisted in serving, he ex]3ected from them zeal and fidelitv. 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 Assembly a great deal, and actually succeeded in gaining the attachment of the soldiers. Narbonne travelled with the greatest expedition, and re- turned to give an account of his rapid journey io the Assembly. He reported that the repair of the fortresses was already con- siderably advanced ; tliat the army, from Dunkirk to Besanron, presented a mass of two hundred and forty battalions, and one hundred and sixty squadrons, with artillery requisite for two hundred thousand men, and sup]:)lies for six months. He bestowed the highest encomiums on the patriotism of the volunteer national guards, and declared that in a short time their ecpiipment would be complete. The young minister 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 gTatitude, and sent it to all the de]mrtments — the usual way of ex]iressing esteem for those ^^•ith 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 1 9 8 HIS TOR Y OF dec. 1791 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 courtiers? 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 decision upon it. AVhat will appear singular is, that the outrageous Jacobins, and Eobespierre, their leader, were in favour of peace, and the moderate Jacobins, or Girondins, for war.* Brissot and Loiivet 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 w^ould put an end to a dang-erous uncertaintv, and unveil the real intentions of the King. These men. judging of the result bv their own entlmsiasm. could not believe that the nation wT>uld be con- quered ; and tliey 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 hap]iened it that Robespierre and the other Jacobins o]3posed a deter- mination which must produce so speedy and so decisive a denouement I In answer to this question nothing but con- jectures can be offered. Was the timid Robespierre afraid of war? Or did he oppose it only because Brissot, his rival at the Jacobins, supported it, and because young Louvet had defended it ^vith 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 es]iecially 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 Desmoulins, who never ceased to figure him to himself at the head of a victorious army, as in the Ohani]:) de Mars, crushing Jacobins and Cordeliers. Louvet and the Girondins attributed a different motive to the C'Ordeliers, and supposed them to be hostile to Lafavette, because he was an enemv of the Due d'Orleans, witli whom they were said to be secretly united. The Due d'Orleans, now again brought before the public by the suspicions of his enemies rather than by the Revolution, * "The Jacobins attached to Robespierre were opposed to war, because tliey fe;in.'d its beiiif,^ directed by their political rivals, and also because several of tlieni from pecuniary interests, like Daiiton, or from causes of which they themselves were i,i(Uorant, were under the guidance of that small V)arty of the Court 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 vague projects of ambition." — Lafayette' a Memoirs. JAN. 1792 TRE FEE NCR REVOLUTION. 199 was then nearly eclipsed. At the commencement his name might liave liad some weiglit, and he himself might have con- cei\-ed some ho]3e oi those to wliom he lent it ; but everything had since greath^ chano-ed. Feeling himself how much he was out of his place in the po]:)iilar ]:)arty, he had endeavoured to obtain tlie pardon of the Coin-t during the latter days of the Constituent Assembly, and had been re])ulsed. Under the Legislati\'e. he had been retained in the list of admirals, and he had made fresh solicitations to the King. On this occasion 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 repaired thither. The Queen's dinner was served, and numerous courtiers were in attendance. No sooner was he ]-)erceived than the mr)st insulting expressions were uttered. "Take care of the dishes!'' was the general crv. as though they had been afraid that he woidd throw poison into them. They pushed him. trod on his toes, and obliged him to retire. As he went downstairs he received fresh insults, and departed in deep indignation, conceiving that the King and Queen had ])repared for him this humiliating scene. They, however, were totally ignorant of it, and were extremely shocked at the imprudence of the courtiers.* That Prince had a right to be 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 su])posed 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 (lirondins imagined that the extreme Cordeliers and Jacobins advocated peace with no other ^'iew than to deprive Lafayette, the rival of the Due d'Orleans, of the reputation which war might give him. Be this as it may. war, deprecated by the Jacobins, but su]:>ported by the Girondins, could not fail to be adopted by the Assembly, in which the latter had the ascendency. The Assembly began by ]mtting under accusation, from the ist of January, IMonsieur, the King's brother, the Comte d'Artois,t the Prince de f^onde. f^alonne, Mirabeau the younger,. I and Lecjueille as charged with the commission of hostilities against France. As a decree of accusation was not * See Appeudi.vc GGG. t Monsieur, afterwards Louis XVIII., who died in the year 1S24. Comte d'Artoi.s, afterwards Charles X., who died in exile at Gratz, in Styria, in the ear 1S36. X See Appendix HHH. 2 00 HmWRY OF JAN. 1792 submitted to tlie King for his sanction, no veto was in this case to be apprehended. Tlie sequestration of the property of the emigrants, and the application of their revenues to the benefit of the State, enacted by the unsanctioned decree, were pre- scribed anew by another decree, to which the King made no opposition. Tlie Assembly took possession of the revenues as indemnities for the war. Monsieur was deprived of the regency by virtue of the resolution previously adopted. The report on 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 troo^^s for Austria without ever obtainins* anv return ; that the treatv of alliance concluded in 1756 had been violated by the declaration of Pilnitz, and the subserpient declarations, the object of which was to raise u]) an armed coalition of sovereigns ; that this had likewise 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 a]")parent orders had not been executed ; that the ^vhite cockade had not ceased to be worn bevond the Rhine, the national cockade to be in- suited, and French travellers maltreated: that in consequence it behoved the Assembl}- tc) demand of the Emperor a final explanation relative to the treaty oP 1756. The report was ordered to be printed, and the consideration of it adjourned. On the same day. Januar}^ 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 purpose 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 pf)litical nonentity into Avhich they have just sunk ; if it be true that some of the agents of the executive power are seconding with all the infhience of their connections this abominable plot; if it be true that they think to bring us by delay and discouragement to accept this igniominious media- tion — ought the National Assembly to shut its eyes to such dangers? Let us swear." exclaimed the speaker. ~'to die, all of us, on this S]ir)t. rather. . " He was not allowed to finish : the whole Assembly rose, crying, " Yes, yes, we sweai* it ; " and with enthusiasm it declared every Frenchman who should take part in a cr»ngress, the object of which was to modify the con- stitution, infamous and a traitor to his country. It was more JAN. 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 2 o i especially against the members of the late Constituent Assembh^, 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 CTensonn^'s report was resumed, and it was resr)lved that the King should not treat further, unless in the name of the French nation, and that he should refjuire of the Emperor a definitive explanation before the 1st of March ensuing. The King re]:)lied 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 r\abinet. had issued fresh orders for the dispersion of the assemblages of troops, for the sale of the magazines formed in his dominions, and for prohibit- ing recruiting and military exercises ; and that these orders were in fact carried into execution. In the then prevailing disposition this intelligence was coldly received. The Assembly would not regard these measures in any other light than as empty demonstrations without result ; and persisted in demand- ing the definitive answer of Leopold. Dissensions existed in the ministry between Bertrand de Molleville and Narbonne. Bertrand was jealous of the popii- laritA^ of the minister at war, and found fault with his con- descension to the Assembly. Narbonne complained of the conduct of Bertrand de Molleville, and of his unconstitutional sentiments, and wished that the Kinsf would dismiss him from the ministry. Cahier de Gerville held the balance between them, but without success. It was alleged that the constitu- tional party was desirous of raising Narbonne to the dignity of prime minister ; it would vven appear that the King was imposed upon, that the ]iopularity and the ambition of Nar- bonne were em]">loyed as bugbears to frighten him, and that lie was represented to him as a presum]")tuous young man who wanted to govern the Cabinet. The news]iapers were informed of these dissensions. Brissot and the Gironde warmly de- fended the minister who was threatened with disgrace, and as warmly attacked his colleagues and the King'. A letter written by the three generals of the North to Narbonne, in which they expressed their apprehensions respecting his dis- missal, which was said to be near at hand, was published. 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, howe\'er, was not weakened by the latter step. It excited an extraordinary sensation, and the Assembly 202 HISTORY OF feb. 1792 resolved to declare, agreeably to the form previously adopted in Necker's case, that Narbonne carried with him the confidence of the nation, and that tlie entire ministrv had lost it. From that condemnation, however, it pro])osed to except Cahier de Gerville. who had alwavs been hostile to Bertrand de Molle- ville, and who had e\en just had a violent quarrel with him. After much agitation Brissot offered to prove that Delessart had betrayed the confidence of the nation. This minister had communicated to the diplomatic committee his correspondence with Kaunitz. It w\as without dig'nity. and even gave Ivaunitz a very unfavourable iiotion 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 Duport- Dutertre were the two ministers who belonged more jiarticu- larly to the Feuillans, and who w^ere most disliked, because they were accused of favouring the "]3lan of a congress. In one of the most stormy sittings of the Assembly the unfortunate Delessart was accused by Brissot of having com- promized the dignity of the nation ; of having neglected to ap]:>rize the Assembly of the concert of the powers and the declaration of l^ilnitz ; 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 manner contrary to the interests of the country. A'ergniaud joined Brissot. and 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 Comtat with France, and thus having caused the massacres at Avignon,* " From this tribune from which I address you," added Vergniaud, " may be seen the ]3alace where perverse advisers mislead and deceive the King whom the constitution has given us. I see the windows of the ])alace where they are hatching counter- revolution, where they are combining the means of plunging us bade into slavery. In ancient times terror has often stalked forth in the name of despotism from this famous * "On Sunday the 30th of October 1791, the gates were closed, the walls guarded so as to render escape impossible, and a band of assassins, commanded by the barbarous Jourdan, sought out in their own houses the individuals destined for death. Sixty unhappy wretches were speedily thrust into prison, where, during tlie obscurity of the night, the murderers wreaked their vengeance with impunity. One young man put iburteen to death with his own hand, and only desisted from excess of fatigue ! Twelve women perislied, after having undergone tortures which my pen cannot descril»e. When vengeance had done its worst, the remains of the victims were torn and mutilated, and heaped up in a ditch, or thrown into the Rhone." — LacrcteUe. MAE. I 7 9 2 THE FRENCH BE VOL UTIOK 203 palace ; let it now return thither in the name of the law ; let it there seize every heart ; let all tliose who dwell in it know that our constitution grants inviolabilit}' to the King- alone." The decree of accusation was immediately put to the vote and carried. Delfssart was sent to the high national court, established at Orleans, which was empowered Ijy the consti- tution to try crimes against the State. The Kino* felt the I/O O greatest pain at his departure. He had given him his con- fidence, and been delighted with his moderate and pacific sentiments. Duport-Dutertre, minister of the constitutional party, was also threatened with accusatirm, but he anticipated it, demanded ]3ermission to justify himself, was absolved by the order of the day, and immediately afterwards resieiied. Cahier de Oierville also gave in his resignation, and thus the King fomid himself deprived of the only one r>f his ministers who had a reputation for patriotism with the Assembly. Separated from the ministers whom the Feuillans had given him, and not knowing to whom to cling amidst this storm, Louis XVL, who had dismissed Narbonne because he was too popular, thought of connecting himself with the (Jironde, which was republican. It is true that it was so only from distrust of the King ; and it w^as possible that when he had once committed himself to this party it might attach itself to him. But it Avould have been requisite that he should gi\e himself up sincerely ; and that everlasting cpiestion of sincerity arose here as on all other occasions. No doubt Louis XA'I. was sincere when he consigned himself to a party ; but it w^as not without ill-humour and regret. Thus when this party imposed upon him a difficult but necessary condition he rejected it. Distrust instantly sprang u]i, animosity followed, and very soon a ru])ture was the consequence of those uidiappy alliances between hearts which were exclusi^'ely occu]:)ied by two o]'»posite interests. Thus it was that Louis X\^I.. after admitting the Feuillant ]:>arty to his presence, had in a fit of ill-humour dismissed Narbonne, who was its most conspicuous chief, and now found himself reduced to the necessity of giving himself up to the Gironde. in order to allay the storm. The example of England, where the King frequently takes his ministers from the o]^position, was one of the motives of Louis XVL The Court then concei^'ed a hope — for people cannot help forming hopes even in the most gloomy conjectures — that Louis XVL, by taking incapable and ridiculous dema- gogues, would ruin the reputation of the party from which he should have selected them. This hope, however, was not 204 HISTOEY OF mar. 1792 realized ; and the new ministry was not such as the malice of the comi:iers would have desired. Above a month before this time Delessart and Narbonne had selected a man whose talents thev held in hiffh estimation. and placed him near tliem for the purpose of availing them- selves of his abilities. This was Dumouriez, who, having suc- cessfully commanded in Normandy and in La A'^endee, had everywliere displayed extraordinary firmness and intelligence. He liad first offered himself to tlie Court, and tlien to the Constituent Assembly, because all parties were the same to him, provided he had c»p])ortunities to exercise liis activity and his superior talents. Dumouriez. kept down by the times in 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, onlv a brilliant military adventm^er.* He had ne\'ertheless retained the fire and the hardihood of youth, and as soon as tliere appeared a ]")rr>s];)ect of a war or a revolution, he formed plans and addressed them to all the ]^arties, read}^ to act for any, provided he could but act. He was thus accustomed not to take any account of the nature of the cause ; but tliough too little swayed by conviction, he was generous, sensible, and ca]iable of attachment, if not for prin- ciples, at least for persons. Yet with such a graceful, prompt, and compreliensive mind, and courage alternately calm and impetuous, lie was admirable for serving, but incapable of directing. He had neither the dignity of a ■]">rofound convic- tion nor the ]:)ride of a despotic will, and he could command none but sctldiers. If with his genius he had possessed the passions of a IMirabeau, or the resolution of a Cromwell, or merely the dogmatism of a Kobes]uerre, he might have directed the course of tlie Revolution and France. No sooner was Dumouriez connected with Narbonne than he formed a vast militaiy ]ilan. He was at once for offensive and defensive war. Wherever France extended to her natural limits, the Rliine. the Alps, the Pyrenees, and the sea, he pro- "^ " The followin.fc expre.ssions paint Dumouriez completely. ' Honour to the patriots who took the Bastille ! ' he exclaims in his memoirs ; yet a few pages after, we find that ' being at Caen, in 17S9, when an insurrection was feared in Paris, he composed a memorial on the best means of maintaining order and defending the Bastille ! ' A .sister of the famous emigrant Rivarol was Dumouriez's mistress. The son of a commissary of Avar, known by the poem of ' Richardet,' Dumouriez; had been wounded during tlie Seven Years' War, and was much en- gaged in the srcrct correspondence, a .sort of diplomatic system of espionage, of whicli Louis XVI. had given the superintendence to the Comte de Broglie." — LafuijcUe s Memoirs. MAR. 1792 TEE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 2 o 5 posed that she sliould confine herself to the defensive. But in the Netherlands, wher(- our territory did not extend to the Rhine, and in Savoy, where it did not extend to the Alps, he proposed that we shoidd attack immediately, and that on reacliing the natural limits we should resume the defensive. This w^onld ha\'e been reconciling at once our interests with our principles, as it would ha\e been profiting- by a war which we had not provoked, to return on the scL>re of boundaries to the genuine laws of nature. Dumouriez proposed a fourth army, destined to occupy the Soutli. and applied for the com- mand of it, which was promised him. Dumouriez had gained the goodwill of Gensonne. one of the civil commissioners sent into La A'endee by tlie Constituent .Vssembly. afterwards a deputy to the Legislative Assembly, and one of the most inJkiential uiembers of the Gironde. He had remarked, moreover, that the Jacobins were the predomi- nating powder. He had attended their club and read several memorials, which had been highly applauded, but had neverthe- less kept up his IVtrmer intimacy with Delaporte, intendant of the civil list, and a devoted friend of Louis XA'I. GV)nnected thus witli the different powers which were on the point of unitino^, Dumouriez could not fail to carrv all before him and to be called to the ministry. Louis XVI. offered him the portfolio of foreign atfairs. which the decree of accusation against Delessart had just rendered vacant ; but still attached to the accused minister, the King offered it oDily 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 Gainer de Gerville and Degraves in the ministry. Galiier de Gerville, tlutugh he had given in his resignation, had not yet relinquished duties. Degraves had succeeded iNarbonne. He was young, easy, and inex- perienced. Dumouriez contrived to gain him, and thus he held in his hands the foreign relations and the military ad- ministration of the Avar. Nothing less 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 borrowed 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 him 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 attachment, and to dispel his gloomy melancholy 2o6 HISTORY OF mar 1792 by liis wit. He persuaded liim tliat if he S(.>iight popularity, it was only for the benefit of the tlu'one. and for the purpose of strengtliening it. But notwitlistanding all his deference, lie took care to make tlio Prince sensible that the constitution was inevitable, and endeavoured to console him by striving to prove that with it a king might still be \ery powerful. His first despatches to the powers, full of sound reason and firm- ness, 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 had meditated thirty-six years on that great art ; but it must also be admitted that the conduct of the Cabinet of ^'ienna and the irritation of the Assembly had rendered it inevitable. Dumouriez, from his conduct at the Jacobins and his known connection with the Gironde, could not, even without any hatred against the Feuillans, lielp embroiling himself with them. Besides, he had displaced them. He was therefore in continual opposition to all the chiefs of that party. Braving the sarcasms and the contempt which they levelled against the Jacobins and tlie Assembly, he determined to pursue his career with his accustomed assurance. It was necessary to complete the ministry. Petion, Gen- Sonne, and Brissot were consulted respecting the ])ersons 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. JJumouriez 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 otliers. It was furtlier proposed to give the ministry of justice to young Louvet, who had recently distinguished him- self at the Jacobins, and who had won the favour of the Gironde, since he had so ably su]0]:>orted the opinion of Brissot in favour of war. The envious Ilobespierre "I* caused him to be * " Lacoste was a ti'ue jack-in-office of the old order of tlunf:rs, of wliicli he had the insignificant and awkward look, cold manner, and dogmatic tone. He wa.s delicient both in the extensive views and activity necessary for a minister." — Memoirs of Madame Roland. t "I once conversi'd," 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 luie." Speaking of the same demagogue, Dumont observes: "I had twice occasion to converse with Kobespierre. He had a sinister expression of countenance, never looked you in the face, and had a continual and unpleasant winking of the eyes." MAR 1792 THE FIIENCH IlEVOLVTION. 207 immediately denounced. Loiivet siiccesst'ull}' justified liimself; but as it was not deemed riglit to take one wliose popularity was contested, JJurantlion,* an advocate of Bordeaux, an en- lightened, upriglit, but weak man. was sent for. The ministry of the finances and of the interior vet remained to be tilled up. The (_aronde again proposed Clavicres,t who was known 1:)V some hip'hlv esteemed works on finance. The minister appointed to tlie inteiior was Roland. | fornu'rly inspector of manufactories, who had distinguished himself by some excellent publications on industry and the mechanical arts. Tliis man, with austere manners, inflexible opinions, and a cold, forbid- ding look, yielded, without being aware of it, to the superior ascendency of his wife. Madame Roland was young and beautiful. Bred in the depths of retirement, and imbued with philosophic and republican ideas, she had conceived notions superior to those of her sex, and had formed a severe religion out of the then prevailing principles. Living in the closest friendship witJi her husband, she lent him her pen, communi- cated to him a portion of her own vi\acity, infused her own ardour not only into liim, but into all the (Tirondins. wdio, enthusiasts for lil^erty and philosophy, admired her beauty and intelligence, and were inlluenced b}' her opinions, wdiich were in fact their own opinions. § The new ministry comprehended abilities great enough for its prosperity; but it behoved it not t(t displease Louis XVI., and to keep up its alliance wdth the (lironde. It might then prove adequate to its task ; but if blunders of individuals were to be added to the incompatibility of the parties which had united, all w^ould be lost — and this was what could not fail to happen very speedily. Louis X\ I., 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 wdiich recpiired no sacrifice either of power or of principle. If he could always have felt the confidence which he did then, and have separated himself from the hangers-on of the Court, he might easily liave reconciled himself to the constitution. This he repeated with sincerity to the ministers, and succeeded in convincing the tw^o most diflicult, Roland and Clavieres. The persuasion was complete on both sides. The Gironde, which was republican solely from distrust of the King, ceased then to be so; and Aergniaud, Gensonne, and Guadet * See Appendix III. + See Appendix KKK. X See Appendix LLL. § See Appendix M^MM. 2 o 8 HIS TOR Y OF mar. 1792 entered into correspondence with Louis XVI., which was sub- sequently one of the charges in the accusation preferred against them. The intiexibh- wife of Koland w^as alone doubtful, and kept back her friends, who were too ready, as she said, to surrender themselves. The reason of her distrust is natural. 8he never saw tlie Xing. The ministers, on the other hand, had daily inter\iews wdth him. and honest men, when they meet, soon feel satished with one another. But this confidence could not last, because inevitable questions were on the point of displaying the wide difference of their opinions. The Court strove to throw ridicule on the somewhat republi- can simplicity of the new ministry, and on the unpolished rude- ness of Koland, who appeared at tlie palace without buckles to his shoes.* Dumouriez returned these sarcasms, and mingling mirth with the most serious business, pleased tlie King, charmed him by his wit, and perhaps, too, suited him better than the others, from the iiexibility of his opinions. The Queen, per- ceiving that he had more inliuence over the mind of the monarch than any of his colleagues, was desirous of seeing him. He has recorded in his memoirs this extraordinary interview, which shows the agitation of that Princess, worthy of another reign, other friends, and another fate. On being ushered into the Queen's apartment, he found her, he says, alone, her face much iiushed, walking hastily to and fro, with an agitation which seemed to betoken a warm ex- planation. He was going to post himself at the corner of the fireplace, painfully affected at the state of this Princess, and the terrible sensations from whicli she was snlferino'. She advanced towards him with a majestic air and angry look, and said, " 8ir, you are all-powerful at this moment, but it is through the favour of the people, who soon break tlieir idols in pieces. Your existence depends on your conduct. It is said that you possess great abilities. You must be aware that neither the King nor myself can endure all these innovations on the constitution. This I tell you frankly : choose your side." Madam," he replied, "I am deeply pained by the secret which your Majesty has 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 represent to ■' "The first time that Roland presented himself at the palace, he was dressed with strings in his shoes, and a round hat. The master of the ceremonies refused to admit him in such an unwonted costume, not knowing who he was ; being afterwards informed, and in conseijuencc obliged to do so, he turned to Dumouriez, and said with a sigh, ' Ah, sir, no buckles in his shoes ! ' ' All is lost ! ' replied the minister for foreign affairs, with sarcastic irony." — Alison. iviAR. 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTIOK 209 yon that the welfare of the King, your own, and that of your august children, is linked with the constitution, as well as the re-establishment of legitimate authority. I should do you disservice, and the King too, if I were to hold any other language. You are both surrounded by enemies, who are sacrificing you to their private interest. The constitution, when once it shall be in vigour, so far from bringing misery upon the King, will constitute his happiness and his glory. It is absolutely necessaiy that he should concur in estab- lishing it solidly and speedily." The unfortunate Queen, shocked at this contradiction of her opinions, raising her voice, angrily exclaimed, "That will not last. Taki' 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 re- sponsibility is not the greatest of my dangers." ' Nothing more was wanting," she cried, with deep chagrin, "but to calumniate me. You seem to think me capable of causing you to be murdered," and tears trickled from her eyes. "God preserve me," said Dumouriez, as much agitated as herself, "from doing you so cruel an injury! The cliar- acter of your Majesty is gi-eat and noble ; you have given heroic proofs of it, which I have admired, and which have attached me to you." At this moment she became more calm, and drew nearer to him. He continued: '•Believe me, madam, I have no interest 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 miofhtv natirai asrainst 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 2^art them leads to their mutual ruin; I strive as 'much as possible 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 in- stantly send my resignation to the King, and hide myself in some corner, to mourn over the fate of mv countrv and over yours." 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 Climes of all; he proved to her that she was betrayed by those about her; and repeated the language held by persons ill her most intimate confidence. The Princess appeared in VOL. I. 14 * * 2IO HISTORY OF mar. 1792 the end to be entirely convinced, and dismissed Mm with a serene and affable look. She was sincere ; but those around her, and the horrible excesses of the papers wi'itten by- Marat * and the Jacobins, soon drove her back to her baneful resolutions. On another occasion she said to Dumouriez, in the presence of the King, " You see me very sad. I dare not approach the window which looks into the garden. Yesterday evening- I went to the window towards the court, just to take a little 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 chair, reading aloud the most abominable calumnies against us ; on the other, a military- man or an abb6 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 ! " f Thus, by a kind of fatality, the supposed intentions of the palace excited the distrust and the fury of the people, and the uproar of the people increased the anxiety and the impru- dence of the palace. Despair therefore reigned ^vithin and without. But why, it may be asked, did not a candid explana- tion put an end to so many evils ? Why did not the palace comprehend the fears of the people ? Why did not the people comprehend the afflictions of the palace ? But why are men men ? At this last question we must pause^ submissively resign ourselves to human nature, and pursue our melancholy story. Leopold II. was dead. Tlie pacific dispositions of that Prince were to be regretted for the tranquillity of Europe, and the same moderation could not be hoped for from liis 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 Eevolution. 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 * See Appendix NNIST. t Dumouriez' s Memoirs, book iii. chap. 6, but see Appendix 000. X "Gustavus III., King of Sweden, was born in 1746, and assassinated by Ankarstrom, at a masked ball at Stocklmlm, on the night of March 15, 1792." — Encyclopcedia Americana. m. 18 9 5 MAR. 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 2 1 1 advanced. What an example for Louis X^'I., and what a lesson, if at the moment he could have comprehended 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 Gatlierine would have performed her promise ; and the death of Gustavus, from which most important consequences were anticipated, was in realit^' a verv insiij'nificant 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 XVL on account of their aptness and tlieir 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 lano;uap"e that had iust been dictated to him. Dumou- riez lost no time in communicating the circumstance to the Assembly, which, indignant at this resignation, immediately passed a decree of accusation against M. de Noailles. A new ambassador was instantly sent with fresli despatches. Two days afterwards Noailles recalled his resignation, and sent the categorical answer which he had recjuired from the Court of \'ienna. Among all the faults committed by the powers, this note of AI. de Cobentzel's is one of tlie most impolitic. M. de C'obentzel insisted, in the name of his Court, on the re-estab- lishment of the French monarchy on the bases fixed by the royal declaration of the 23rd of June 1789. This was ef|uivalent to recpiiring the re-establishment of the three orders, the restitution of the property of the clergy, and that of the Comtat-A^enaissin to the Pope. The Austrian minister, moreover, demanded the restoration of the domains in Alsace, with all their feudal riglits, to the princes of the empire. In order to propose such conditions, a man must have known nothing of France unless through the medium of the passions of Coblentz. It was demanding at once the destructi'jn of a constitution sworn to by the King and the nation, and the repeal of a decisive determination in regard to Avignon. Lastly, it was imposing the necessity of bankruptcy by the restitution of the possessions of the clergy already sold. Besides, what right had the Emperor * See Appendix PPP. 2 I 2 HIS TOR Y OF APRIL 1792 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 Avas 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 was 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 resolution. The Assembly annulled the decree of accusation passed against Noailles, and de- manded 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 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 rejuignance to declare war, and preferred declaring the country in a state of war. The difference was unimportant ; yet to his mind the one was ]:)refVrable to tlie 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 0])inion to be adopted. '^Phis was his first quarrel with tlie (lironde. The King comjiosed his speech himself, and re- ])aired in person to the Assembly, followed by all his ministers. * See Appendix QQQ, APRTT. 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 2 r 3 A considerable concourse of spectators added to tlie effect of this sitting, wliicli was about to decide the fate of France and of Europe. The King's features appeared careworn, and in- dicated deep thought. Dnmoiiriez read a detailed report of the negotiations of France with the empire ; he showed that the treaty of 1756 was etc facto broken, and that according to the last ultimatum France toas in a state of war. He added, that the King having no other legal medium for consulting the Assembly but the furnial proposal of war, submitted to consult in that manner. Louis XVI. then spoke with dignity, but \\dth a faltering voice.* "Gentlemen," said he, ''you have just heard the result of the negotiatictns in which I have been engaged with the Court of Vienna. The conclusions of the ivport have been unanimously approved by my council : I ha\ e myself adopted them. They are conformable with the wish which the National Assembh^ has several times expressed, and with the sentiments communicated to me by a gTeat number of citizens in different parts of the kingdom : all would rather have war than see the digniity 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 13ohemia." This proposal was most warmly received : shouts of "■ Vive le Roi I " resounded 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 deliberation. A most stormy dis- cussion immediately commenced, and continued till the nig-ht 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 contem]it of treaties, has not ceased to grant open protection to French rebels ; that it has provoked and formed a concert with several powers of Europe against the indepen- dence and the safety of the French nation ; ■* "I was present at the sitting in which Louis was forced to a measure which was necessarily painful to him for many reasons. His features were not expres- sive of his thoughts, but it was not from dissimulation that he concealed them ; IX 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 tliat kind of vacant curiosity which is not unusual with persons who are so short- sighted that their eyes seem to be of no use to them. He proposed war in the same tone of voice as he might have used in recjuiring the most indifferent decree possible." — Madame de Sta'eVs Memoirs. 2 1 4 HISTOR Y OF April i 792 " That Francis 1.. King of Hungary and Bohemia,* has, by liis notes of the 1 8th of March and the 7th of April last, refused to renounce this concert ; '' That notwithstanding tlie proposal made to liim by the note of the nth of ]\Iarch 1792. to reduce the troops upon the frontiers, on both sides, to the peace establishment, he has continued and augmented his hostile preparations ; "That he has formally attacked the sovereignty of the French nation, by declaring his determination to support the pretensions of the German princes holding possessions in France, to whom the French nation has not ceased to offer indemnities ; '' That he has sought to divide the French citizens, and to arm them, one against the other, by offering to support the malcontents in concert with the other powers ; " Considering, lastly, that the refusal to answer the last despatches of the King of the French leaves no hope of obtain- ing an amicable redress of these various grievances b}^ means of an amicable negotiation, and is equivalent to a declaration of war, tlie Assembly declares that it is compelled," &c. &c. It must be admitted that this cruel war, wliich 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 recognize by a decree the state in which she had been placed. Condorcet was directed to draw up an exposition of the motives of the nation. History ought to preserve this paper, an admir- able model of reasoning and moderation. f Tlie war occasioned general joy. The patriots beheld in it the end of tliose apprehensions which they felt on account of the emigration and the wavering conduct of the King. Tlie moderates, alarmed by divisions, hoped that the common danger would put an end to them, and that the fields of battle would absorb all the turbulent spirits generated by the Revolution. tSome Fenillans alone, glad to find faults in the Assembh^ re- proached it with having violated the constitution, according to which, France ought never to be in a state of aggression. It is but too e\4dent that here France was not tlie assailant. Thus war was the general wisli of all excepting the King and a few discontented persons. Lafayette jirepared to serve his country bravely in this new career. It was he who was more particularly charged with the execution of the ]")lan conceived by Dumouriez, and appa- rently ordered by Degraves. Dumouriez had justly flattered * Francis I. was not yet elected Emperor. f ,SV( Appendix RRR. APRIL 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 2 i 5 himself, and given all the patriots reason to ho]->e, that the invasion of the Netherlands would be an easv task. That country, recently agitated by a I'evolution, which Austria had suppressed, might naturally be expected to be disposed to rise on the first appearance of the French, and then would be fulfilled 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 consisted in extending the French territ(ay to its natural frontiers. Kochambeau commanded the army close to the scene of action ; but he could not be charged with this operation on account of his ])eevis]i and discontented disposition, and more especially because he was less fitted than f^afayette for an invasion half militar}', half 2^'*P^^l^i'- It was wished that Lafayette might have the general command; but Dumouriez refused to comply, 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 ex]3edition 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 beloved by his army, Lafa^^ette was a terror to over- heated 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 thousand men, with whom he proposed to push forward by Namur and the Meuse to Liege, the possession of which would make him master of the Netherlands. This ]:)lan was judicious, and it was approved by Dumouriez. "War had been declared only a few days. Austria had not had time to cover her possessions in the Netherlands, and success appeared certain. Accordingly Lafayette 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 immediatelv by his whole armv. While he was executinp- this movement Lieutenant - General Biron was to set out from Valenciennes with ten thousand men, and to march upon Mons. Another ofHcer had orders to proceed to Tournay, and to take possession of it immediately. These movements, con- ducted by officers of Rochambeau's, were intended to support and mask the real attack committed to Lafayette. The orders given to this effect were to be executed between the 20tli of A])ril and the 2nd of May. Biron commenced his 2 1 6 HIS TOR Y OF appjl 1792 march, left Valenciennes, made himseli* master of Quievrain, and fonnd 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 wliole army. In vain the officers strove to stop the fugitives ; they tlireatened 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, according to a preconcerted plan, with two thousand infantry and a thousand horse. In the very same hour that Biron's disaster happened, tlie cavalry, at the sight of some Austrian troops, gave way, cr^nng out that it was betrayed. It hurried the infantry along with it. and again the whole of the baggage was abandoned to tlie enemy. Theobald Dillon and an ofiicer of engineers named Bertliois were murdered by the soldiers and the populace of Lille, who insisted that they were traitors. Meanwliile Lafayette, apprized too late of these circumstances, had proceeded from Metz to Givet, after encountering extreme difficulties, and by roads that Avere scarcely passable. Nothing but the ardour of his troops enabled him to perform in so short a time the considerable distance whicli he liad traversed. There, learning the disasters of Eochambeau's officers, he thought it right to halt. This intelligence produced a general agitation. It was natural to suppose that tliese two events had been concerted, judging from their coincidence and their simultaneous occur- rence. All tlie 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, in 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 accomplishing it. The Feuillans. moreover, reported that Dumouriez had designed to ruin E.ochambeau 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 ste]')])ing 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 Prance and liberty formed part of a plan MAY 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 2 1 7 which he had long meditated: how then conld it be imagined tliat he wished to make it miscarry ? It was evident tliat in this case neither the minister nor the generals could be in- sincere, because they were all interested in succeeding. But parties always put persons in the place of circumstances, that they may throw upon some one the blame of the disasters which befall them. Degraves, alarmed at the tumidt excited by the recent military events, determined to resign an office which had long been too arduous for him ; and Dnmouriez was wrong in not undertaking it. Louis X\'I., 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 8ervan, (Jlavieres, 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 tlie 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, Glavieres, and Roland were inflexible. Filled witli tlie fears of their friends, they daily sliowed themselves more impracticable and inexorable at the council. Another circumstance completed the rupture between Du- mouriez and the principal members of the Gironde. T3umouriez, 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 ex]oenditure of that sum. The Feuillans had opposed this ; but through the influence of the Gironde his demand proved triumphant, and tlie 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 permitted only one 23ayment to be made. On the other hand, it was learnt or suspected that he had just spent one hundred thousand francs upon his pleasures. Roland, around whom rallied the Gironde, was, with all his friends, highly indignant at this circumstance. '^ "Servan was born at Romano in 1741, and died in Paris in iSoS. 'He was,' says Madame Roland, 'an honest man in the fullest sif^nifieation of the term ; an enlightened 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. 2 1 8 HIS TOR Y OF may 1792 The ministers dined with one anotlier by turns, for the purpose of conversing on public affairs. When they met at the house of Koland, 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 w^ere made to Dumouriez on the nature of his secret expenses. At first he replied witli gaiety and good-humour, afterwards lost his tem- per, and cfuarrelled decidedly with Eoland and the Girondins. He ceased to attend at these accustomed parties, and alleged as his reason that he Avould not talk of public affairs either before a Avoman or before Roland's friends. He nevertheless went occasionally to Roland's, but either said very little or no- thing 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 ministers should induce the King to choose for his spiritual director a priest who had taken the oath. Dumouriez main- tained that the ministers could not interfere in the religious exercises of the King. He was supported, it is true, by Vergniaud and Gensonne ; but the cpiarrel was not the less violent, and a ruptm-e became inevitable. The newspapers commenced the attack u])on Dumouriez. The Feuillans, who were already leagued against him, then found themselves aided by the Jacobins and the Girondins. Dumouriez, assailed on all sides, firmly confronted 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 die Pen pie ; an atrocious work, in which he openly advocated murder, and heaped the most audacious insults on the roj^al family, and on all who were objects of suspicion to his frenzied imagination. To counter- balance the effect of this measure, a decree of accusation was obtained against Royou, who was the author of the Ami do Roi^ and who inveighed against the republicans with the same violence that Marat displayed against the royalists. For a long time past a great deal had been said concern- ing an Austrian committee. The ]iatriots talked of it in the city, as the Orleans faction was talked of at (Jourt. To this committee a secret and mischievous inihience was attributed, whicli was exercised through the medium of tlie Queen. If anything resembling an Austrian committee liad existed in the time of the Gonstituent Assembly, there was nothing of the kind under the Legislative. At the former period an illustrious personage, who held an appointment in the Nether- MAY 1 7 9 2 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 2 1 9 lands, commiiiucated to the Queen, in the name of lier family, some very prudent advice, which was still more prudently commented upon by the French intermediate agent. 13ut under the Legislative Assembly these private communications had ceased ; the Queen's family had continued its corre- spondence witli her, but ne\'er omitted to recommend patience and resignation to her. It is true that Bertrand de Molle- ville and iMontmorin 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 secj-et commissions. They were publicly accused by Carra the journalist. Determined to prosecute him as a calumniator, the}^ summoned him to produce documents in support of his denunciation. Tlie journalist backed himself by three deputies, and named Chabot, Merlin, and Bazire as the authors of the particulars which he had published. Lariviere, justice of the i^eace, who was devoted to the cause of the King, prosecuted this affair with great courage, and had the boldness to issue a summons ao-ainst the three above- mentioned deputies. The Assembly, indignant at tliis attack on the inviolability 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 considered itself as guiding Louis XVI., since Dumouriez had established his influence over him, and it had resumed its part of violent opposition. The new constitutional guard of the King had been recently formed. Agreeabl}^ to the law, the civil establishment also ought to have been composed ; but the nobility would not enter into it, that they might not recognize 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, '' continue to raise the least doubt in those people concerning your sentiments ? AVhen they decree you a military and a civil establishment, like young Achilles among the daughters of Lycomedes, you eagerly grasp the sword and ]3ut away mere ornaments." f Tlie ministers and Bertrand himself remonstrated on their part to the same purpose as Barnave ; but they could not carry their ]3oint, and the composition of the civil establishment was abandoned. * See Appendix SSS. f Mcmoires de Madame Campan, tome ii. p. 154- 2 20 HISTORY OF may 1792 The military establishment, formed agreeably to a plan pro- posed by Delessart, had been composed, one-third of troops of the line, and two-thirds of yrogress of that con- stitution to which they have attached their felicity, and you will soon become the object of their thanksgivijig. " The conduct of the priests in many places, and the pretexts wdth -which fanaticism furnished the discontented, have caused a wise law to be enacted against the disturbers. Be pleased, Sire, to give it your sanction. The public tranquillity claims it. The safety of the priests solicits it. If this law be not ])ut in force, the departments will be constrained to substitute for it, as they do in every instance, violent measures, and the incensed peo]">le will, for want of it, have recourse to outrages. "The attempts of our enemies, the commotions which have broken out in the capital, the extreme uneasiness excited by the conduct of your guard, and Avhich is still kept up by the testimonies of satisfaction which your Majesty has been induced to bestow upon it in a ]:)roclamation truly impolitic under existing circumstances, and the situation of Paris, and JUN E I ; 9 2 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 227 its proximity to the frontiers, have caused tlie want of a camp in its vicinity to be felt. Tliis measure, the prudence and urgency of ^^hicli liave struck all well-meaning persons, is still waiting only for your Majesty's sanction. Wh}" should delays be allowed to produce the appearance of reluctance, when celerity ^vould deserve gratitude? ''Already havr the proceedings of the staff of the national guard of J^xris against this measure awakened a suspicion that it was acting from superior instigation. Already are the declamations of certain furious demagogues raising sur- mises of th(.'ir coniiection with the parties concerned for the overthrow ol" the constitution. Already is public opinion compromi^iing the intentions of your j\[ajesty. A little longer delay, and the disappointed people will imagine that in theu* 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 language of truth is seldom relished near the throne. I know, too, that it is because it is scarcely ever proclaimed there that revolutions are be- come 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 clothed 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 represen- tations to your j\Iajesty on the utilit}^ of executing the law which directs that there shall be a secretary to the council. The mere existence of the law speaks so powerfull}^ that it would seem that the execution ought to follow without delay ; but it is of importance to employ all the means of ensuring to the deliberations 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, I should not on this occasion have addressed myself in writing to ^^our Majesty. ''Life is not a consideration with tlie 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 faithfull}^ ; which is an obligation incumbent on the public man. (Signed) "Roland. " Paris, Jane 10, 1792, thefoartk year of liberty." 2 2 8 HIS TOR \ ^ OF JUN E I 7 9 2 The King- listened to this lecture with the utmost patience, and withdrew, saying that he would communicate his in- tentions. Dumouriez was summoned to tlie palace. The King and Queen were together. ''Ought we," said they, "to endure any longer the insolence of these three ministers?" ''No," replied Dumouriez. ' AVill ynu undertake to rid us of them?" asked the King. 'Yes, Sire," answered the bold minister; '"but in order to succeed, your Majesty must consent to one condition. I have become unpopular, and I shall make myself still more so by dismissing three col- leagues, the leaders of a powerful party. There is but one way of persuading the public that they are not dismissed on account of tlieir patriotism." "What is that?" inquired the King. "It is," replied Dumouriez, ''to sanction the two decrees ; " and he repeated the I'easons 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 ; that tliey might be sent to Soissons, for instance ; that there they might be em])loyed in military exer- cises, and afterwards marched off by degrees to the armies when the want of them began to be felt. "But then," said the King, "it is necessary that you should be minister at war." "Notwithstanding the responsibility I consent to it," replied 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 j\Iajesty 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 then," 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 ap]ieared to comply. Dumouriez pointed out the new ministers to supply the places of Servan, Clavieres, and Ivoland. These were Mourgues for the interior, and Beaulieu for the finances. The Avar was consigned to Dumouriez, who for the moment held two departments, till that of foreign affairs should be filled. The ordinance was immediately issued, and on the 13th, Koland, Clavieres, and Servan received their official dis- mission. Roland, who possessed all the nerve necessary for JUN E 1 7 9 2 THE FB.ENCH BE VOL UTION. 229 executing wliat 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 piiblicl}^. 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 title of minister at war. He had drawn up in the utmost haste a circumstantial report of the state of the army, of the faults of the administra- tion and of the Assembly. He did not spare those whom he knew to be disposed to give him the most unfavourable recep- tion. The moment he appeared he was assailed with violent hootings by the Jacobins. The Feuillans maintained the most profound silence. He first gave an account of a slight advan- tage 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 Assemblv bestowed its reo'rets on the loss of this ofenerous citizen ; but listened coldly to those of Dumouriez, and above all, to the wish that he expressed to escape the same calamities by the same fate. But when he announced his report as minister at war, a refusal to listen to him was manifested 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 finished reading, and was by turns hooted and applauded. As soon as he had done he folded 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 the desk again, he calmly signed it, and walked through the Assembly with unshaken 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 I stand in need of." His firmness cheered the King, who expressed his satisfac- tion ; but the unhappy Prince was already shaken and tor- mented with scruples. Beset by false friends, he had already 2 3 o HIS TOR Y OF june 1792 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 had seemed to promise. The King drily re]3lied, that he could assent only to the decree relative to the twenty thousand men ; that as for that concern- ing 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 presi- dent 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 sanctioning 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 colleao-ues. Louis XVI. saw him, and asked him 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 pre- vailed on them to remain. Messrs. Lajard, Chambonas, and Terrier de Mont-Ciel, selected from among the Feuillans, were appointed to the vacant ministerial departments. "The King," says Madame Campan, "sunk about this time into a despondency that amounted even to physical debility. He was for ten days togetlier witliout uttering a word even in the midst of his family, exce]:iting at a game at back- gammon 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 em- ploying images calculated to terrify him, at others, expressions of her affection for him. 81ie also urged the claims which he owed to his family ; and went so far as to say that if they must jierish, the}^ 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 dis]X)sition of Louis XVI. when he recovered his spirits and returned to business. After having once forsaken the party of the Feuillans to throw him- self into the arms of the (Tirondins, he could not go back to ^ Madame Cavvpan, tome ii. p. 205. JUNE 1792 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 231 the former with much curdiaUty and liope. He had made the twofold experiment of his incompatibiHty witli both, and wliat was still worse, he had caused them all to make it too. Thence- forward he could nr>t but think more than ever of foreign powers, and rest all his hopes upon them. This disposition became e\ident to all. and it alarmed those who beheld in the invasion of France the fall uf liberty, the execution of its de- fenders, and perhaps tlie 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 rout of Mons and Tournay, he had sent Mallet du Pan t<:) Germany, with in- structions in his own handwriting. 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 was this plan, 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 princes 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 ? The ministers of Prussia and Austria themselves expressed to Mallet du Pan the apprehensions which they felt on account of the violence of the emigrants, and it appears that he had some difficulty to satisfy them on this head.f The Queen felt equally strong apprehensions on the same subject. She dreaded Calonne in particular as the most dangerous of her enemies ; | but she nevertheless conjured her family to act with the greatest celerity for her deliverance. From that moment tlie popular party could not help considering the Cr)urt as an enemy so much the more dangerous, because it had at its disposal all the forces of the State ; and the combat that * See Appendix UUU. t See Appendix VVV. X " The party of the princes," says Madame Campan, " having been informed of the coalition of the remains of the constitutional party with the Queen, was greatly alarmed at it. The (,>ueen, for her part, always dreaded the party of the princes, and the pretensions of the French who composed it. She did justice to Comte d'Artois, and frequently said that his party would act in a s]drit 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 tlie most mischievous ascendency. She reproached Comte d'Esterhazy, on whom favours had been heaped through her means, with having become so decided a partisan of Calonne's, that she could even consider him as an QWQXwy ." — Minnoirai dc Afadame Camjian, tome ii. p. 193. 2 34 HIS TOR Y OF june 1792 relative to the King and the constitution, and his disappro- bation of everything that tended to attack either. His friends were divided. Some excited, others restrained liis zeah But thinking 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 exchange of reproaches between the friends of liberty. The letter reached the Assembly on the 1 8th of June. Lafayette, disapproving, in the first place, of the late minister, whom, he said, he meant to denounce at the moment when 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 represen- tatives — from them the nation expects its salvation ; but in gi\dng 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 had been sworn to, he expatiated on the state of France, which he saw placed between 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 that a faction — and to avoid every vague denomination, that the Jacobin faction — has caused all these disorders ? It is to this faction that I loudly attribute them. Organized like a se])arate empire, in its principal society and its affiliations, blindly directed by a few ambitious leaders, this party forms a distinct corporation amongst the French people, whose powers it usurps by over- awing its representatives and its functionaries. "It is there that, in the public sittings, love of the laws is called aristocracy, and their violation, patriotism ; there the assassins rtf Desilles receive triumphs, the crimes of Jourdan* * " M. JoLive Jourdan, entitled the ' lieheadev,' was born in 1749. Ho was successively a butcher, a blacksmitli's journeyman, a smuggler, a servant, general of tlie army of Vaucluse in 1791, and finally, leader of a squadron of national gendarmerie. In the massacres at Versailles lie cut off the heads of two of tlie King's bodyguards. He boasted also of having torn out the hearts of Foulon and r>erticr, and called on the National Assembly to reward him for this ileed with a civic medal ! He was also one of the chief instigators of the massacres at Avignon. In 1794 ho was condemned to death as a federalist. Jourdan was remavkalile for wearing a long beard, which was often besprinkled with blood." — Bioijraphic Modernc. .JUNE 1792 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 235 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 tvrannv ':' " Then recapitulating his former services for liberty, and enumerating the guarantees which 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 the world, could and ought to resist the conspiracy of the kings who had coalesced against it. But,'' added he, "in order that we. soldiers nf liberty, should fight with efficacy, and die with benefit for her, it is requisite that the number of the defenders (if tlie country should be speedily proportioned to that of its adversaries ; that supplies of all kinds be multiplied to facilitate our mctvements ; that the well-being of the troops, their ec|iiip- ments, their pay, and the arrangements relative to their health, be no longer subject to fatal delays." Then followed other advice, the principal and last of which was this : '' Let tlie reign of the clubs annihilated by you give place to the reign of the law — their usurjoations, to the firm and independent exercise of the constituted authorities ; their disorganizing maxims, to the genuine principles of liberty ; their frantic fmy, to the calm and ]:)ersevering' courage of a nation which knr)ws its rights and defends them ; and lastly, their sectarian combinations, to tlie true interests of the country, which, in this moment of dangfer, ous'ht to rallv around them all those to whom its subjugation and ruin are not objects of atrctcious satisfaction and infamous speculation ! " This was saying to exasperated ■i:)assions, " Stop ! " — to the parties themselves. "Put an end to your own existence! " — to a torrent, " Cease to flow ! " But though the advice was useless, it was not the less a duty to gi\'e 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. AVrgniaud asked and obtained permission to speak. Accord- ing to him, it was of importance to that liberty wdiich M. de Lafayette had hitherto so ably defended, to make a distinction between the petitions of private citizens, who ofi:ered advice or 236 HISTOR Y OF JUNE 1 7 9 2 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 ]oass 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 wiitten it." Guadet demanded permission to S]Deak upon a matter of fact, and asserted tliat the letter could not be that of M. de Lafayette, because it adverted to the dismissal of Dumouriez, which had not taken place till the 1 6th, and it was dated the very same day. "It is therefore impossible," 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. Eitlier the signature is not his, or it was attached to a blank, which was left for a faction to fill up at its pleasure." A great uproar followed these words. Guadet resumed : he said that M. de Lafayette was incapable, according to his known sentiments, of having w^ritten such a letter. " He must know," added he, ''that when Cromwell — " Dumas the de- puty, unable to contain himself, at this last word desired to be heard. Agitation prevailed for a considerable time in the Assembly. Guadet, however, regained possession of the tribune, and began : '"I was saying — " Again he was interrupted. "You were at Cromwell," said some one to him. "I shall return to him," he replied. " I was saying that M. de Lafayette must know tliat when Cromwell held 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 tluat we have not taken a vain oath in swearing to maintain the constitution." A great number of members attested the signature of M. de Lafayette. The letter was nevertheless referred to the com- mittee of twelve, for the purpose of ascertaining its authen- ticity. It was tlius deprived of the honour of being piinted and sent to the departments. This generous -jirocedin-e then proved absolutely useless, and could 71 ot be otherwise in the existing state of the public mind. From \\\^d^ moment the general became almost as un]iopular as the Court ; and if the leaders of the Gironde, more enliglitened than the populace, did not believe M. de Lafayette capable of JUNE 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION, 2 3 7 betraying his country because he had attacked tlie Jacobins, the mass nevertheless beUeved him to be so, because it was constantly repeated in tlie clnbs, in the newspapers, and in the public places, that he was. Thus the alarm Avhicli tlie Court had excited in the i')0])ular party was lieiglitened by tliat wdiich M. de Lafayette had just added to it by a step of lus own. This party then became absolutely desperate, and resolved to strike a blow at the Court before it could carry into execution tlie plots of which it was accused. We have already seen how the popular party was composed. In speaking* r»ut more decidedly, it also manifested a more decided character, and several additional persons rendered tliemselves conspicuous in it. Robespierre has already been mentioned at the Jacobins, and Danton at the Cordeliers. The clubs, the municipality, and the sections comprised many men who, from the ardour of their disposition and o]:)inions, were ready for any enterprise. Among these were Sergent and Panis, whose names at a later period w^ere connected with a terrible event. In the faubourgs w^ere remarked several commanders of battalions who had rendered themselves formi- dable. The principal of these was a brewer named Santerre. ■ By his stature, his voice, and a certain fluency of speech, he ]:)leased the people, and liad accjuired a kind of sway in the Faubourg St. Antoine, the battalion of which he commanded. Santerre had already distino-uished himself in the attack on \'incennes, repulsed by Lafayette in February 1791 ; and like all men who are too easily wrought upon, he was caj^al^le of becoming very dangerous, according to the excitement of the moment.* He attended all the factious meetings held in the distant faubciurgs. There, too, were to be found Carra the journalist, prosecuted for an attack on JVrtrand de j\Iolleville and Montmorin ; Alexandre, commandant of the Faubourg St. iMarceau ; a person well known by the name of Fournier the American ; Legendre f the butcher, who was afterwards a deputy to the Convention ; a journeyman goldsmith named Rossignol ; and several others, w^ho, by their communications with the populace, set all the faubourgs in commotion. 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 sujierior direction. It is impossible to designate in a precise manner such of the deputies as contributed to this direction. The most dis- * See Appendix WWW. t .^^Vr' Appendix XXX. 238 HISTOR Y OF JUNE 1 7 9 2 tinguished of them were strangers to Paris, and possessed no other influence tliere but that of their eloquence. Guadet, Isnard, Yergniaiid, were all nati\^es of the provinces, and communicated more witli tlieir departments than with Paris. JJesides, though extremely ardent in the tribune, they were not at all active out of the Assembly, and were not capable of exciting the multitude. Oondorcet and Brissot, deputies of Paris, were not more active tlian those just mentioned, and by tlie conformity of tlieir opinions with those of the deputies of the West and Soutli, they had become Giirondins. Roland, since the dismissal of the ])atriot ministry, had returned to private life. He occupied an humble and obscm^e dwelling in the Rue St. Jacques. Persuaded that the (Jourt entertained the design of delivering up France and liberty to foreigners, he de]3lored the calamities of his country in conjunction with some of his friends who were members of the Assembly. It does not, however, ap]:)ear that any plans were formed in his society for attacking the Cr)urt. He merely promoted the printing of a paper entitled La Sciitliiclle, wliicli was conducted in a patriotic spirit by Louxet, already known at the Jacobins by his controversy with Robespierre. Roland during his ministry Jiad 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 Scntincllc was carried on. About this period there was at Paris a young native of Marseilles, full of ardour, courage, and republican illusions, and whr), 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 director)^ of his de- ]mrtment ; for this division between the inferior and superior authorities, between the municipalities and the directories of departments, was general throughout all France. The name of this young man was Barbaroux.* l^ossessing intelligence and great activity, he was likely to become very serviceable to the popular cause. He met Roland, and deplored with him * " Cliarles Barharoux, deputy to the Convention, was born at Jilarseilles. He embraced the cause of tlie Revolution with uncommon ardour, and came to Paris in July 1792, with a, few liundred Marseillais, to bring about a revolution against the Court. He had a considerable share in the insurrection of the loth of August. He belonged to the party of the Girondins, and was guillotined in Bordeaux in 1794." — Biographic Modcrne. "Barbaroux's ingenious disposition and ardent patriotism inspired us with confidence. Discoursing on the bad situation of allair.s, and of our apprehensions of despotism in the North under Robespierre, we formed the conditional plan of a republic in the South. Barbaroux was one whose features no painter would disdain to copy for the head of an Antinous." — Madame Roland's Memoirs. JUN E T 7 9 2 THE FBENCH RE VOL UTION. 2 3 9 tlie dangers with which the patriots were threatened. They agreed, that as tlie danger was daily growing greater in the North of France, they ong-lit, if driven to the last extremit\', to retire to the South, and there found a republic, which tJiey might some day extend, as (Jharles VII. had formerly extended his kingdom from Bourges. They examined the map witli Servan the ex-minister, and said to eacli other tliat Liberty, if beaten upon the Ehine and beyond it, ought to retire behind the Vosges and the Loire ; that driven from these entrench- ments, she would still have left, in the East, the Donbs, the Ain, and the Rhone ; in the West, the Vienne and the Dor- dogne ; in the centre, the rocks and the rivers of the Limousin. ''And beyond these," added Larbaroux, "we have the Auvergne, its steep hills, its ravines, its aged forests, and the mountains of the Velay, laid waste of old b}" fire, now covered with pines ; a wdld country, where men plough amidst snow, but where they live independently. The Gevennes would offer us another asylum too celebrated not to be formidable to tyranny ; and in the extreme South we should find for barriers tlie Isere, the Durance, tlie Khone 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 iieither Genoese nor French have been able to naturalize tyranny; which needs but hands to be fertile, and ]:)hilosophers to be enlightened." * 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, howe\'er, neglect the North, for they agreed to write to their departments to induce them to form spontaneously a camp of twenty thousand men, though the decree relati\'e to this camp had not yet been sanctioned. They reckoned much upon ^larseilles, an opulent city, witli a numerous population, and extremely democratic. It had sent Mirabeau to the States-general, and it had since dift'used over all the South the spirit with which it was itself animated. The mayor of that city was a friend of Barbaroux, and held the same opinions as he did. Barbaroux wrote, desiring him to provide supplies of corn, to send trusty persons int(.) the neighbouring departments, 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 Montescjuiou, the commander of the army of the Alps, and to turn his ambition to the advantage of liberty ; lastly, to concert with Paoli and the Corsicans, so * Memoires de Barbaroux, pp. 38, 39. 240 HISTORY OF JUNE1792 as to secure a sure aid and a last asylum. It was also recom- mended 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, otliers did for their departments, and thought of ensuring a refuge f(ir themselves. Thus distrust, converted into despair, paved the way for a general insiu-rection, and in the preparations for insurrection, there was already a marked difference between l^aris and the departments. Petion, the mayor, connected with all the Girondins, and subsequently classed and proscribed with them, had from his functions much intercourse with the agitators of Paiis. He had great composure, an appearance of coldness which his enemies mistook for stupidity, and an integi'ity which was extolled by his partisans and never attacked by his slanderers. The people, who give distinct appellations to all those who eng^ao-e their attention, called him Virtue Petion. We have already mentioned him on occasion of the journey to Varennes, and of the preference given him by the Court to Lafayette 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 po])ular magistrate was of short duration. It soon discovered that it had been cheated, and that its adversaries were not so venal as it had imagined. Petion had been one of the first to take for granted that the propensities of a king born to absolute power are not to be modified. He was a republican before any one ever dreamt of a republic ; and in the Constituent Assembly he was from conviction what lk)bespiej"re was from the acerbity of his tem]oer. Under the Legislative Assembly he became still more convinced of the incorrigibility 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 contrar3^ such as were judicious, and strove above all things to recon- cile them with the law, of which he was a strict observer, and which he was determined not to violate but at the last extremity. Though we are not well acquainted with the extent of the JUNE 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 2 4 1 participation of Petion in the movements which were pre- paring, and know not whether he consulted his friends of the G'ironde for the purpose of promoting them, we are authorized by liis conduct to assert that he did notliing to impede tliem. It is alleged that in the latter part of June he went to the house of Santerre with Kobespierre, Manuel, frocurcar syndic of the commune, 8illery, ex-constituent, and Cliabot, ex-(Japuchin and deputy ; that the latter harangued tlie section of the Quinze-A^ingts, and said that the Assembly w^as waiting for it. Whetlier these circumstances be true or not, it is certain that clandestine meetings were held ; and from the well-known opinions and subsecjuent conduct of the persons above named, it is not to be believed that they had any scruple to attend them.* From that moment a fete for the 20th of June, the anniversary of the oath at the tennis- court, was talked of in the faubouro-s. It was said that a tree of liberty was U) be planted on the terrace of the Feuillans, and a petition ]:>resented to the Assembly as well as to the Xing. This petition, moreover, was to be presented in arms. It is obvious that the real intention of this scheme was to striken terror into the palace by the sight of forty tliousand pikes. On the 1 6th of June a formal application was addressed to the general council of the commune that the citizens of the Faubourg* St. Antoine should be authorized to meet on the 20th. in arms, and to present a petition to the Assembly and to the King. The general council of the commune passed to the order of the dav. and directed that its resolution {iirrcfi') sliould be communicated to the directory and to the municipal body. Tlie petitioners did not regard this proceed- ing as a condemnation of their purpose, and declared loudly that tliey would meet in spite of it. It was not till the i8th that l*etion, the mayor, made the communications ordered on the 1 6th ; he made them, moreover, to the department only, and not to the municipal body. On the 19th the directory of the department, which we have seen exerting' itself on all occasions against agitators, passed a resolution (arref<^) forbidding armed assemblages, and enjoining the commandant-general and the mayor to employ the measures necessar}^ for dispersing them. This resolution was notified to the Assembly by the minister of the interior, and the discussion immediately arose on the question whether it should be read or not. * See Appendix Y YY. VOL. I, 1 fi "■ 242 HmWRY OF JUNE 1792 Vergniand opposed its being read, but unsuccessfnlly. The reading of the resohition was immediately followed by the order of the dav. Two circumstances of considerable importance had just occurred in the Assembly. The King liad signified his opposition to the two decrees, one of which related to the nonjuiing 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 appeared at the bar for the purpose of reading a j^etition. We have just seen what kind of correspondence Barbaroiix kept up with them. Ex- cited 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 will save France. The day of the people's wrath is arrived. . . . Legislators, the power of the peo]3le is in your hands ; make use of it : French patriotism demands your permission to march with a more imposing force to- wards the capital and the frontiers. . . . You will not re- fuse 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 de]">artments would be inviting them to insurrection. Its transmission was nevertheless decreed, in spite of these remarks, which were certainly very just, but unavailing, since ]:)eople were persuaded that nothing but a new revolution could save France and liberty. Such had been the occurrences of the 19th. Notwith- standing the resolution of the directory, the movements continued in the faubourgs, and it is affirmed that Santerre said to his trusty partisans, who were somewhat intimidated by that resolution, " Wliat are you afraid of ? The national guard will not have orders to fire, and M. Petion will be there." At midnight the mayor, whether he conceived that the " " Wlien the Marseillais soon afterwards arrived in Paris, though only about five hundred in number, they marched through the city to 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 lingers in the South of France, denouncing vengeance on kings, priests, and nobles. ' I never,' says Madame de Larochejaquclein, 'hoard anything more impressive and terrible than their songs."" — Scott's Life of Napoleon. JUNE 1792 THE FRENCH EE VOL UTION. 243 movement was irresistible, or that he ought to favour it, as he did that of tlie lOtli of August, wrote to the directory, soliciting it to authorize the assemblage by permitting the national guard to recei-s'e the citizens of the faubourgs into its ranks. Tliis expedient fully accomplished the views of those who. without wisliing for any disturbance, were never- theless desirous of overawing the King ; and everything proves that such were in fact the \iews of Petion and the popular chiefs. At" five o'clock on the morning of the 20th of June the directory replied that it persisted in its preceding resolutions. Petion then ordered the commandant - 2'eneral on dutv to keep up all the posts to tlieir full complement, and to double the guard of the Tuileries. But he did nothing more ; and unwilling eitlier to renew the scene in the Champ de Mars, or to disperse the asseml^lage, 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 which violated the administrative subordination, and was thus guilty of a species of inconsistency, with Avhich he was afterwards reproached. But whatever was the character of that resolution, its objects were rendered useless, for the national guard liad not time to assemble, and the concourse soon became so considerable that it was no longer possible to change either its form or its direction. It was eleven o'clock in the forenoon. The Assemblv had just met in expectation of some great event. The members of the department hastened to it for the purpose of acquaint- ing it with the inutility of their efforts. Rcederer, the pro- (nu'ritr s//ndic, obtained permission to speak. He stated that an extraordinary assemblage of citizens had met, in spite of the law and various injunctions of the authorities ; that the object of this assemblage appeared to be to celebrate the anniversary of the 20th of June, and to pay a new tribute of respect to the Assembly ; but that if this was the intention of the greater number, it was to be feared that evil-disposed persons were desirous of a\'ailing 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 council of the commune, the laws enacted against armed assemblages, and those which limit to twenty the 244 RISTOBY OF JUNE1792 number of citizens who could present a petition, he exhorted the Assembly to enforce them; ''for," added he, "armed petitioners are to-da}^ thronging hither by a civic movement ; but to-morrow a crowd of e\'il-dis posed ^lersons 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, Avhich, by disapproving the a])prehensions and the fore- sight of the department, evidently approved the insurrection, Vere-niaud ascended the tribune, and observed that the abuse with which the 'procuTcur syndic was alarming the Assembly for the future, had already taken place ; that on several occa- sions armed petitioners 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 would send to him unarmed petitioners ; and at any rate, if any danger was apprehended for the King, they had but to send him a deputation of sixty members for a safeguard. Dumolard admitted all that Vergniaud had asserted, con- fessed that the abuse had taken place, but declared that a stop ought to be put to it, and more es]iecially on this occasion, if they did not wish the Assembly and the King to appear in the eyes e the slaves of a destructive faction. He proposed, like Verginaud, the sending of a deputation ; but he rec[uired. moreover, that the nnnncipality and the department should be responsible for the measures taken for the main- tenance oi 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 Faubourg St. Antoine were celebrating the 20th of June ; that they wert-, 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 T4th of July. Vergniaud then rejJied to l^umolard, 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 sanguinaiy scene in the Champ de Mars ; and that after all, there was nothing reprehensible in the sentiments of the peti- tioners. Justly anxious about the future, added A^ergniaud, thev wish to prove that, in spite of all the intrigues carried on against liberty, they are still ready to defend it. JUN E 1 7 9 2 TEE FRENCH BE VOL UTIOK 2 4 5 Here, as we see, the true sentiment of the day was disclosed by an ordinary effect of the discussion. The tumult continued. Ramond desired permission to speak, but a decree was required before he could obtain it. At tliis moment it was stated that the petitioners were eight thousand. '• Eight thousand ! " ex- claimed Cah'et, " and we are but seven hundred and forty- live. Let us adjourn." Cries of "Order! order!'' arose on all sides. (Jalvet was called to order, and Ramond was urged to speak, because eiglit thousand citizens were waiting. " If eight tliousand citizens are waiting,*' said he, •" twenty-four millions of French are waitino- for me too." He then re- peated the reasons urged by his friends of the right side. All at once the petitioners rushed into the hall. Tlie Assembly, indignant at the intrusion, rose ; the president put on his hat. and tlie petitioners rpiietly withdrew. The Assembly, gratified by tliis mark of respect, consented to admit them. Tliis petition, tlie tone of which was most audacious, ex- pressed the prevailing idea of all the petitions of that period. " The people are ready. Tliey wait but for you. They are disposed to employ great means for carrying into execution Article 2 of the 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 Coblentz. Investigate the cause of tlie evils Avliich threaten us. If it proceeds from the executive, let the executive be anniliilated ! " The president, after a reply in which he promised the peti- tioners the vigilance of the representati\'es of the people, and recommended obedience to the laws, granted them, in the name of the Assembh^, 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. It is easy to conceive what the imagination of the poi^ulace, abandoned to itself, is capable of producing. Enor- mous tables, upon which lay the declaration of rights, headed the procession. Around these tables danced women and chil- dren, bearing olive-branches and pikes, that is to say. peace or war, at the option of the enemy. Tliey sang in chorus the Jamous (Ja irci. Tlien came tlie porters of the markets, the working-men of all classes, with wretched muskets, swords, and sharp pieces of iron fastt^ned to the ends of thick bludgeons. tSanterre and the Marquis de St. Hurugues, who had already attracted notice on the 5th and 6th of October, marched with drawn swords at their head. Battalions of the national guard 246 HISTORY OF .tune 1792 followed in good order, to prevent tumult by their presence. After them came women and more armed men. Waving flags were inscribed with the words, *'The constitution or death." Ragged breeclies were lield up in the air, with shouts of " Vivent Ics sans-culottes/^' Lastly, an atrocious sign was displayed to add ferocity to the wliimsicality of the spectacle. CJn 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 sight. The horrid emblem instantly disa])peared. 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 Assembly, composed an extraordinary scene, and at the same time an afflicting one to the very deputies who view^ed the multi- tude as an auxiliary.* Why, alas ! must reason prove so insufhcient in such times of discord? Why did those who called in the disciplined barbarians of the North oblige their adversaries to call in those otlier 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 length Santerre again came forward to express to the Assembly the thanks of the people, and presented it with a flag in token of gratitude and attaclmient. The mob at this moment attempted to get into the garden of the Tuileries, the gates of which were closed. Numerous detachments of the national guard surrounded the 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 under the windows of the palace and before the ranks of the national sfuard, without anv hostile demonstration, but shout- ing, " Down with the veto ! The sans-cnlottes for ever ! " Mean- while some persons, speaking of the King, said. " Wh}^ does * "It may be alleged in excuse that the Assembly had no resource but sub- mission. Yet brave men, in similar circumstances, have, by a timely exertion of spirit, averted similar insolences. 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 to act, and addressed him tlius : ' My lord, is it your purpose to bring your rascally adherents into the House of Commons ? 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 suthcient, and the mob was directed to another quarter." — ScotVs Life of Napoleon. JUNE 1792 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION, 247 he not show himself? . . We mean to do him no harm." The old expression, He is rnvposed wpon, was occasionally but rarely lieard. The people, quick at catching the opinions of its leaders, had. like them, despaired. The crowd, moving off by the garden-gate leading Uj the Pont Royal, proceeded along the quay and tln-ough the wickets of tlie Louvre to the Place du (Jarrousel. This place, now so spacious, was then intersected by numerous streets. Instead of tliat immense court extending from the body of the palace to the gate, and from one wing to the other, there were small courts separated by walls and houses. Ancient wickets opened from eacli of them into the Carrousel. All the avenues were crowded with people, and they appeared at the royal gate. They were refused admittance. S(»me of the municipal oliicers addressed them, and appeared to Jia\'e prevailed upon them to retire. It is asserted that at this moment Santerre, coming from the Assembly, wliere lie had stayed till the last moment t(j present a Hag. whetted tlie almust blunted purpose of tile 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 detachments of gendarmerie, were then paralyzed. The people rushed headlong 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 roval residence, exclaimed, turnine' to the assailants, '* Bear witness that I 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 tlie palace, took possession of all the staircases, and by main force dragged a piece of cannon up to the first fioor. At the same instant the assailants commenced an attack with swords and hatchets u^^on the doors which were closed against them. Louis X\'L had just at this moment sent away a great number of his dangerous friends, who, without possessing the power to save, had so often compromized him. They had hastened to him, but he had made them leave the Tuileries, where their presence would only have served to exasperate, without repressing, the people. He had with him the old Marshal de Mouchy Acloque. chef de hataillon, some of the * All the witnesse.s examined agreed resjiectinLj; this fact, diftering only as to the names of the municipal officers. 248 ni^^TORY OF JUNE1792 servants of his household, and several trusty officers of the national guard. It was at tlii.:; 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 im- plored him to show himself, vowing to die by his side. With- out 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, wliom 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 accompanied 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 with less danger to this terrible lecture of the rabble. Amidst uproar and shouts were heard the oft-repeated cries of *' Ko veto ! No priests ! No aristocrats ! The camp near Paris ! " Le- gendre, the butcher, stepped up, and in popular language demanded the sanction of the decree. " This is neither the place nor the moment," replied the King with firmness ; "I will do all that the constitution requires." This resistance produced its effect. " Vive la nation ! rdve la nation I " shouted the assailants. " Yes." resumed Louis XVI., " Vive la nation I I am its best friend." " AVell, prove it then," said one of the rabble, holding before him a red cap at the point of a pike. A refusal might have been dangerous ; and certainly in the situation of the 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 * "Wliile we were leading a somewhat idle life, the 20th of June arrived. We met that iiiorniii<^% us usual, iu a coHue-rooni in Rue St. Honov6. On going out we saw a mob approaching, which lionaparte computed at five or six thousand men, all in rags, and armed Avitli every sort of weapon, vociferating JUNE 1792 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION, 249 weather and the crowd, one of the Jialf-drimken fellows, who had brought Avith him a bottle and a glass, offered him some of his drink. The King had long been apprehensive lest he should be poisoned : he nevertheless drank Avithout hesitation, and was loudly applauded. Meanwhile ]\iadame Elizabeth, who was fondly attached to her brother, and who was the only one of the royal family that could get to him. followed 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 Austrian ! " were raised in an alarmiuo- manner. The national o-renadiers. who had surrounded the Princess, endeavoured to set the people right. " Leave them," said that generous sister, '' leave them in their error, and save the Queen ! " The Queen, with her son and her daug]iter, had not been able to I'oin her roval consort. She had tied from the lower apartments, hurried to the council-chamber, and could not reach the King on account of the crowd which tilled the whole palace. She was anxious to rejoin him. and earnestlv begged to be led to the room where he was. On being dis- suaded from this attempt, standing beliind the council table, with some grenadiers, she watched the people file off, with a heart full of horror, and eyes swimming in tears, which she repressed. Her daughter was weeping by her side ; her voung son, frightened at first, had soon recovered his cheerfulness, and smiled in the happy ignorance of his age. A red cap had been handed to him. and the Queen had put it on his head. Santerre recommended respect to the people, and spoke cheer- ingly to the Princess. He repeated to her the accustomed and unfortunately useless expression, ''jMadam, 3^ou are imposed upon ; you are imposed upon." Then seeing the young Prince encumbered with the red cap. '"The bo}' is stifling," said he, and relieved him from that ridiculous head-dress. Some of the deputies, on receiviug intelligence of tlie danger of the palace, had hastened to the King, addressed the people, the grossest abuse, and proceeding with rapid pace towards tlie 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. From this station he beheld the disgracelul occurrences that ensued. I should fail in attem}>ting to depict the surprise and indignation roused within him. He could not com|)rehend such weakness and Ibrbearance. 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 head, Bonaparte could no longer restrain liis indignation. ' Wliat madness!' exclaimed be, 'how could they allow these scoundrels to enter? They ought to have blown four or five hundred of them into tlie air with cannon. The rest would then have taken to their heels.' " — Bourricnne's Memoirs. 2 50 ' HIS TOR Y OF june i ; 9 2 and enjoined respect. Others liad repaired to tlie Assembly, to inform it of what was passing, and the agitation there was increased by the indignation of the riglit side, and the efforts of the left to palliate this invasion of the palace of the monarch. A deputation had been decreed without discussion, and twenty- four members 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 Assembly might be instantly apprized of everything that might occur. The deputies 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 get to the palace, and that it was not till a long time after this that 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 approaching 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 furtlier to do but to retire peaceably and in such a manner as not to sully that da)^. Some persons who were 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 children, 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 several 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 keen vexation at such out- rages. Merlin de Thionville,* one of the stanchest republicans, * " Antoiiie Merlin de Thionville, a bailiff and a municipal officer, was deputed by the Moselle to the Legislature, where he, Bazire, and Cliabot, formed what was then called the triumvirate, which during the whole session made it a point daily to denounce all the ministers and placemen. On the loth of August he JUNE 1 7 9 2 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 2 5 i was one of the deputies present. The Queen perceived tears in his eyes. •" You weep," said she to him, *'to see tlie King and his family treated so cruelly by a people whom he has always wished to render happy." ''It is true, madam," replied jMerlin ; " 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 Xing 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 regarded this invasion as a violation of the laws and of the public tranquillity. The disturbance had been alarming ; but now it was greatly exaggerated. It was alleged to have been a plan for murdering tlie King, and it was even asserted that this plan liad miscarried solely from the effect of a lucky accident. 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 ctutrages ; and the supposed authors of the assault became the objects of unqualified censure. Sad faces were 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 to file off through the hall. Though there already existed laws on this head, they were renewed by a decree. M. Daveirhoult moved for proceed- ings against the disturbers. "Proceedings," exclaimed one of the members, ''against forty thousand men!" "Well then." he replied, "if it is impossible to distinguish among forty thousand men, punish the guard, which did not defend itself ; or, at least, do something." The ministers then entered, to present a report on what had happened, and a discussion arose on the nature of the circum- stances. A member of the right, observing that Yergniaud's testimony was above suspicion, and that he had been an eye- witness of the affair, called upon him to relate what he had seen. Yergniaud, however, declined to rise at this appeal, but signalized himself at the head of the enemies of the Court. He strongly objected to the motion to allow counsel to the King, and warmly urged his execution. During the contest which led to Robespierre's fall, he maintained the most complete silence, and after the victory, joined the con<[uerors. He was after- wards appointed president of the Convention. In 1797 he was denounced to the Council of Five Hundred as a peculator, for he had at that period immense landed jiroperty, whereas before the Revolution he had none ; but the denun- ciation failed. In 179S, Merlin obtained an appointment in the management of the general post." — Biographic Modcrne. * Memoircsde Madame Campan, tome ii. p. 215. 2 5 2 HIST OR Y OF june 1 7 9 2 maintained silence. The boldest of the left side nevertheless shook off constraint, and took courage towards the conclusion of the sitting. They even ventured to propose that an exami- nation should be instituted whether the veto 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 preced- ing day was apprehended. The people, on retiring, had said that they should come again, and it was believed that they would keep their word. JBut whether this was only a remnant of the agitation of the day before, or wdiether for the moment this new attempt was disapproved of by the leaders of the po]3ular party, it w^as very easily stopped ; and Petion repaired in great haste to the palace, to inform the King that order was restored, and that the people, having laid their remonstrances before him, were now tranquil and satisfied. ''That is not true," said the King. '' Sire — " "Be silent." "It befits not the magistrate of tlie people to be silent wlien 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 coujis dc hoiitoir. Tlie sight of Petion, 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 nil Paris. Two proclamations were imme- diately issued, one by the King, the otlier by the municipality ; and hostilities seemed to be commencing between these two autliorities. The municipality told the citizens to be peaceable, to pay respect to the King, to respect the National Assembly, and to riiahc it he respected; not to assemble in arms, because it was forbidden by the laws, and above all, to be aware of evil-disposed persons who were striving to excite fresh com- motions. It was actually rumoured that the Court was endeavouring to excite a second insurrection of the people, that it might have occasion to swee]) them away witli artillery. Thus the palace supposed the existence of a plan for a murder ; the faubourgs, that a ])lan existed f(ir a massacre. The King said, '^Tlie French will not have learned without pain tliat 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 JUN E 1 7 9 2 TEE FRENCH BE VOL UTION. 2 5 3 factious nothing but liis 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 consent to anything that he deems contrary to the public interest. " If those who wisli to overthrow the monarchv have need of another crime, they have it in their power to commit it. " The King enjoins all the administrative br>dies and munici- palities to provide for tlie safety of persons and property.'' These opposite sentiments corresponded with the two opinions which were then formed. All those wfiom the conduct of the Court had driven t(» despair were but tlie more exasperated against it. and the more determined to thwart its designs by all possible means. The popular societies, the municipalities, 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 further than was necessary to avoid being mr)wed 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 Assembly, and give account of the precautions which they had taken on two essential jioints : — 1. On the religious disturbances excited by the priests. 2. On the safety of the capital, which the camp of twenty thousand men, refused bv the Kinp-, was destined to cover. Those who were called aristocrats, the sincere constitu- tionalists, part of tlie national guards, several of the provinces, and es]")ecially 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 l*aris a petition was drawn up and supported by twenty thousand signatures. This petition was associated in the minds of the people with tliat already signed by eight thousand Parisians against the camp below Paris. Lastly, legal proceedings were ordered by the depart- ment against Petion, the mayor, and Manuel,* pw?;rf?0' of the * "Tklamiel was born at Montargis in 1751. On the trial of the King, lie voted for imprisonment and banishment in the event of peace. When tlie (,>ueen's trial came on, he was summoned as a witness against her, but only expressed admiration of her fortitude, and pity for her misfortunes. In November 1793, Manuel was condemned to death by the revolutionary tribunal, and executed. He was the author of several works, and among others, of 'Letters on the Revolution.' "—Scoffs Life of Napoleon, 254 HISTORY OF JUNE1792 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 them- selves for 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 with resignation. The constitutional party fell anew to work with the utmost activity. All those who had surrounded Lafayette, to concert with him the letter of the 1 6th of June, again united for the purpose of taking some signal step. Lafayette had felt deej'^ indignation on learning what had occurred at the palace ; and he was found to be cpiite willing to assist. Several addresses from his regiments, expressing similar indignation, were sent to him. Whether these addresses were concerted or spon- taneous, 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 i6th of June. He arranged the matter with Luckner, who 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 proclaim vivd voce at the bar of the Legislative Body. He then took all requisite measures so that his absence might not be detrimental to tlie military operations, and tearing himself from his attached soldiers, he hastened to Paris to confront the greatest dangers. Lafayette reckoned upon liis faithful national guard, and on im])artiug 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 sincere attach- ment 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 28th of June. The news soon spread, and it was everywhere repeated with sur]3rise and curiosity that General Lafayette was in Paris. * " Marshal Luckner blamed extremely the intention Lafayette announced of repairing to Paris, ' because,' said he, ' the sans-cidottcs will cut off his head.' But as this was the sole objection he made, the general resolved to set out alone." — Lafayette' a Memoirs. JUNE 1792 THE FRENCH BEVOLUTIOK 255 Before liis arrival the Assembly had been agitated by a great number f)f conti-ary petitions. Tliose of Eoiien, Havre, the Ain, the Seine, aiid Oise, the Pas de Calais, and tlie Aisne, condemned the outrae^es of the 20th of June. Those of Arras and of I'Heranlt seemed almost to approve of them. Tliere had been read, on tlie one hand, Luckner's letter to the King, and on tlie other, atrocious placards against him. Tlie reading of these different papers had produced excitement for several preceding days. On the 28th a considerable concourse had repaired to the Assembly, hoping that Lafayette, whose intentions were yet a secret, would make his appearance there. About half-past one o'clock a message was actually brought, stating that he desired to be admitted to the bar. He was received 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 consequence of arrangements concerted between IMarshal Luckner and myself, my presence here cannot in any way compromise either the success of our arms, or the safety of the armv which I have the honour to command." The general then explained the motive of his coming. It had been asserted 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 surrounded by the love of liis soldiers. A still stronger reason had urged him to this step. The 20th of June had excited his indignation and that of his army, which had presented to him a multitude of addresses. He had ])ut 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 themselves if it is really the cause of liberty and of the constitution that they are defending." He besought the National Assembly — 1. To ]")rosecute the instigators of the 20th of June; 2. To suppress a sect which gras]is at the national sovereignty, and whose public debates leave no doubt respecting the atrocity of its designs ; 3. Lastly, to enforce res])ect 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 ]3resident 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 2 5 6 HIS TOE Y OF june 1792 right. Kersaint, the deputy, observed that his proper place was on the petitioners' bench. Cries of " Yes ! " " No ! " burst from all parts. The general modestly rose and removed to the petitioners' bench. Numerous plaudits accom])anied him to this new place. Guadet * was the first who spoke, and resort- ing to a clever circumlocution, he asked if the enemy was vancpiished. 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 nothing in the French people but a factious mob surrounding and threatening the authorities, 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 tres]3assing against the authority of the military powers by coming to Paris with- out being authorized by the minister at war. Guadet, in consequence, jDroposed that the minister at war should be called upon to state whetlier he had given leave of absence to M. de Lafayette, and that, moreover, the extra- ordinary cr)mmission sliould 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 intei-pretaticni of the laws is liable to great variations according to ciiT.umstances. "Never," said he, "have we been so scrupulous relative to the existence of the right of petition. When but very lately an armed multi- tude presented itself, it was not asked what was its errand ; it was not reproached with infringing by the ])arade of arms the iiidependence of the Assembly ; but when M. de Lafayette, who is for America and for Euro]5e the standard of libertv — when lie presents liimself, susj^icions are awakened ! . . . ♦ "M. E. Guadet, a lawyer, president of tlie criminal tribunal of the Gironde, was deputed by that department to tbe Lecrislatnre, and was looked up to by tlie 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 Boideaux in 1794, in the thirty-fifth year of his nge. AVlicn 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 tlieir crimes.' Guadet's father, who was seventy years old, his aunt, and his brother, ])erished a month after him by the sentence of the military committee at Bordeaux." — Bior/rajjhie Mod erne. JUNE 1792 THE FRENCH RE VO L UTION. 2 5 7 If there are two weiglits and two measures, if tliere are two w\avs of considerhio- tliino\s, let it be allowable to make some distinction in favour of the eldest son (A liberty ! " Kamond then moved to refer the petition to the extra- ordinary commission, for tlie purpose of examining, not the conduct of Lafayette, but tlie petition itself. After a great tumult and t^vo dixisions. Ilamond's motion was carried. Lafayette left the Asseuibly, surrounded by a numerous train of deputies and soldiers of the national guard, all of them his partisans and his old companions in aruis. This was the decisive moment for the Court, for himself, and for the popular 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 witlidrew, mortified at the disposition which he had percei\'('d, not for liis owni sake, but fr)r the sake^ of the royal family. On leaving the Tuilerics a numerous concourse escorted liim to his residence, shouting '" Loiig live Lafayette ! " and exen planted a May before his gate. These demonstra- tions of old attachment touched the p-eneral. and intimidated the Jacobins. Lut it was recjuisite to take advantage of these feelings of attachment and to rouse them still more, in order to render them efficacious. Some officers of the national guard, particularly de\oted to the (*ourt, applied to it, inquiring how they ouglit to act. The King and Queen were both of opinion that tliey ouglit not to second M. Lafayette. f He thus found hims(4f forsaken by the only portion of the national guard from wliich he could still have ex23ected support. Anxious, nexertheless, to serve the King, in spite of himself, he consulted his friends. But these were not agreed. Some, and particularly Lally Tollendal. w^ere for acting promptly against the Jacobins, and attacking them by main force in their club. Others, all members of the * "The debate was not closed when Lafayette repaired to the King. The royal family were assembled together, and tlie 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 was 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 ]\Iajesty had retired, of addressing the troops. But the Court did everything in its power to thwart Lafayette, and Petion, the mayor, countermanded the review ail hour before daybreak." — Lafayette's Memoirs. t See Mad'ime Camjxtn, tome ii. p. 224, a Letter from I\L Lally to the King of Prussia, and all the historians. VOL. I. 17 2 5 8 HTSTOR Y OF jUx\e 1792 department and of the Assembly, supporting themselves con- stantly by tlie autliority oC the law. and having no resources but in it, would not advisor its violation, and opposed any open attack. Lafayette neverthelesss prel'erred the bolder of these two courses, and appointed a rendezvous for liis partisans, for the purpose of going witli them to driv<^ the Jacobins from their place of meeting, and walling up the doors. Ihit thoiigli the place for assembling was fixed, few attended, and Lafayette found it impossible to act. Wliilst, 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 liad not yet set out for the army, and urged liim to put himself at their head, and to march against Lafayette ; but their application was not complied with. Lafayette staved another dav in l^aris. amidst denunciations, threats, and hints of assassination, and at length departed, lamenting the nselessness of his self-devotion, and the fatal obstinacy of the (Jourt. And yet this same man. so com- pletely forsaken when he liad come to expose his own life to save the King, has been accused of having betrayed him ! The writers of the Court ha^'e asserted that his means were ill combined. No doubt it was easier and safer, at least in appearance, to employ eighty thousand Prussians ; but in l^aris, and with the determination not to call in foreigners, what more could he do than put himself at the head of the national guard, and overawe the Jacol^ins by dispersing them ! 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 Assembly, in which he repeated with still greater energy all that he had himself said against what he called the factions. No sooner was the ^^♦^^pi^hi'i' party relieved from the fears occasioned by the presence and the plans of the general, than it continued its attacks upon the Conrt, and persisted in demanding a strict account of the means which it was adopting for preserving the territory. It was already known, tliongh the executive power had not yet made any communi- * " Dumouiiez survived the troubles of the Revolution many years. He spent some time in Germany ; and lived in retirement latterly at Turville Park, near Hcnley-upon-Thames, where he died March 14, 1823, in his eighty-filth year. He was a man of pleasing manners and lively conversation." — Scott's Life of Napoleon. JUT.Y 1792 THE FllENCH BE VOL UTTON. 2 5 9 cnlion on tlie sulDJect to tlie Assembly, that the J'russians ]iad broken the neutrality, and that tht-y were advanchig by ( Vjblentz, to tlie number of eio'htv thousand men, all old soldiers of the (Ireat Frederick, and commanded by the Dnke of Jirnnswick. a celebrated t^vnerah* Jjiickner, who had too few tr()0]")s. and could not fully rely on tlu^ JJelgians, had ])een obliged to retire npon Lille and \ alenciennes. An ofhcer. in retreating fj-om ( 'oiirtray, had burned the suburbs of the town, and it was c C(»mpromise, but not so(»n enough to save her ! Why did she not believe her (»wn fears on this point, and the gloomy forebodings which sometimes ovi^'whelmed her! Wh\\ in short, did she not spare herself a fault and manv misfortunes ! We have seen that the measure to which the national party clunsr most tenaciously was a reserve of twenty thousand men below ]^aris. Tlie King, as we have shown, was adverse to this plan. He was summoned, in the person of his ministers, * " Cliarle.s AMlliam Ferdinand, Duke of lU-unswick, was born in 1735. ^^6 was tlie eldest son of tlie reir;nin<,f Duke, and a sister of Frederick the Great. Tlie Seven Years' AVar afforded liim 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 enter[)rises of his uncle Ferdinand. In 1764 he married the Princess Au.i];usta of England. High expectations were entertained of him, when the wars of the French Revolution broke out. The Duke received the cliief command of tlie Austrian and Prussian armies, and issued at Coblentz, in 1792, the famous manifesto drawn up in a haughty style by a Frenchman, de Limou The Duke considered the expressions too strong, and some of the severest pas- sages were expunged. He continued to labour for the welfare of his country until 1S06, when he was placed at the head of the Prussian arm v. He was mor- tally wounded in that year, and died at Ottensen, near Altona." — Encydopccdia Americana. t See Madame Camixin. tome ii. p. 230. 2 6o HIS TOR Y OF july 1792 to state wliat precautioiivS liacl been taken in the place of those proposed in the decree to which he had refused his sanction. He answered by j^ro posing a new project, wliich consisted in directing upon 8oissons a reserve of forty-two battalions of national volunteers, to supply the place of the old reserve, whicli had been exhausted in completing tlie two principal armies. This was as nearly as possible the first decree ; wdtli 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 murmurs, and referred to the militaiy 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 tliousand men, though it was not sanctioned. The departments of the J3ouclies du Khone, la Gironde. and FHerault set the first example, which was soon followed by others. Such was the commencement of tlie 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 King, decreed that the battalions, whose zeal should have led them to marcli before they were legally called upon, should pass through Paris, for tlie 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 w^lio should haj^pen to be in ]^aris on tlie 14th of July, the anniversary of the Federation, should attend that national solemnity. It had not been held in 1 79 1, 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 difference was that the federalists should merely pass through Paris. But the grand point w^as to bring them thither 5 and when once there, a thousand circumstances might arise to detain them. The decree was immediately sent to the King, and sanctioned on the following day. To this important measure was added another. A dis- trust was felt of part of the national guards, and particularly of tlie 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 JULY 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTIOK 2 6 1 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 con- taining u])wards of fifty thousand inhabitants should be dis- solved and re-elected. In the amtated state in which France then was, with the constantly increasing influence which this agitation ensured to the most ardent spirits, this re- election could not fail to bring forward persons devoted to the popular and republican party. These were impoitant measures, carried by main force, in op])osition to the right side and to the Court. Yet all this did not appear to the ])atriots to fortify them suffi- ciently as'ainst tlie imminent dan^-ers bv which they con- ceived themsehes to be threatened. Forty thousand Prussians, and as many Austrians and Sardinians, were apprc)aching our frontiers. A Couit. a])parentlv in concert with the enemy, resorted to no means for augmenting the armies and exciting the nation, but, on the contrary. em]">h>yed the veto to thwart the measures of the Leoislative Body, and the ci^'il list to secure partisans in the interior. Lastly, there was a general, who was not supposed to be capable <:>f uniting with the emigrants to deliver up France, but who was seen to be disposed t<» support the Court against the peo]-»le. All 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 prevented ? 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 the factious only. They trembled only for royalty, and saw no peril but in discussion. The patriots, trembling for a contrary reason, beheld this peril in invasion alone, and laid the whole blame of it on the r^ourt, its refusals, its tardiness, and its underhand pro- ceedings. Petitions continued to pour in. Some attributed everything to the Jacobins, others to the Court, designated alternately by the appellations of the "palace, the executive j)ovjci\ and the veto. The Assembly listened to and re- ferred them all to the extraordinary commission of twelve, appointed long before to seek and pro^^ose means for saving the country. Its plan was awaited with impatience. Meanwhile all tlie walls were covered with threatening placards ; the public papers, not less bold than the posting bills, talking of nothing but forfeiture of the crown and dethronement. 2 6 2 HIS TOR Y OF july 1792 This was the topic of general conversation, and no modera- tion seemed to be observed but in the Assembly. There the attacks against royalty were yet only indirect. It had been proposed, for example, to suppress 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 should either be reduced, or that a public account of its expenditure should be de- manded. At length the commission of twelve proposed its measures. The Court had never refused to comply with the recommen- dations of the Assemblv materiallv to aup'ment the means of defence. It could not have done so without compromizing 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 ]3opular party desired, on the contrary, some of those extraordinary means which indicate a great resolution, and which frecfuently confer victory on the most desperate cause. The commission of twelve dexised 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 expres- sion : T]te country is in danffcr. After tliis declaration, all the local authorities, the councils of the communes, those of the districts and departments, and the Assembly itself, as the highest of the authorities, were to be permanent and to sit without interru])tion. All the citizens, under the severest penalties, were to deliver to the authorities tlie arms which they possessed, with a view to their suitable distribution. All the men, old and ^^oung, fit for service, were to be enrolled in the national guards. Some were to proceed to the seats of the different autliorities of districts or depart- ments ; others to march wliithersoever \\\<^. exigencies of the country required, either at hr>me or abroad. Those only should be expected to ap])ear in uniform who were able to defray the ex]3ense of it. The pay of volunteers was to be given to all the national guards who should be removed from their homes. The autliorities were to be directed to provide themseh'es with mihtary stores. Any sign of rebellion wilfully dis]")layed was to be punished witli death. Every cockade, every hag, was to bo 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 JULY 1792 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 263 and fighting- at eveiy point and at every moment ; and would be able to dis]iense with the g'overnment, and io make amends for its inactivity. That aimless agitation of the popular masses would be regulated and directed. If. in shr)rt. after tliis ajipeal the French should fail to respond to it. the Assembly could not be ex]3ected tr> do any more for a nation which would not do anything for itself. This plan gave rise, as might naturally be expected, to a most vehement discussion. Pastoret,* the deputy, read the 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 the public dangers. After him Jean de Bry ex- plained clearly and with moderation the ]3lan of the commis- sirui. The discussion, once commenced, soon became a mere exchange of recriminations. It afforded scope for those im- petuous imaginations which rush headlong into extreme measures. The great law of the public welfare, that is to say, the dictatorship — in (jther words, the ])ower of doing eveiTthnig. with the chance of usino' it cruellv but ener- getically — tliat power which could by right be decreed only in the Convention, was nevertheless proposed in the Legis- lature. M. Delaunay of Angers -[proposed to the Assembly to declare, that till the removal of the danger, it would consult onhj the iviperativc and Sifprcme law of the pnhlic ivelfarc. This would have been, b}" an abstract and mysterious formula, evidently to abolisli rovaltv, and to declare the Assembly absolute sove- reign. M. Delaunay said that the Revolution was not com- pleted ; that people were mistaken if tliey thought so; and that it was right to keep fixed laws for the Eevolution saved and not the Revolution to be saved. He said, in short, all that is usually said in favour of the dictatorshi]), the idea of which always presents itself in moments of danger. The answer of the deputies of the right side was natural. "They would violate," 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 given, and that they * "Pierre Pastoret, born at INfarseilles in 1756, was an advocate before the Revolution, which he embraced with ardour. Having luckily survived the Reign of Terror, he was in 1795 delegated from Var to the Council of Pive Hundred, where he became one of the firmest defenders of the Clichyan party. In 1S04 he was ap]iointed professor of the laws of man and nations, in the college of France ; and was made a, member of tlie Institute and the Legion of Honour. He wns the author of several works, both in prose and verse, written with eloijuence and perspicuity." — Bioijntph'u AJodcrne. 264 HISTOE Y OF july 1792 ought not to suffer themselves to be anticipated and sui'prised without defence. "But prove then," rejoined the partisans of the Court, '^that this examph' lias been given, that the con- stitution has been betra^^ed." This challenge was answered by fresh accusations against the Court, and these charges were re]:)elled in their turn by recriminations against agitators. • You are factious men." " You are traitors." Such was the reciprocal and everlasting reproach — such the cpiestion to be resolved. So violent did M. Jaucour deem the proposal, that he w^as for referring it to the Jacobins. M. Isnard, with whose ardour it harmonized, urged that it should be taken into considera- tion, and that the speech of M. Delaunay should be sent to the departments, to counterpoise tliat of M. Pastoret, which was but a dose of opivm given to a patient in the agonies of death. M. de ^^aublanc succeeded in obtaining a hearing. He said that the constitution could save itself bv the constitution ; that the plan of ]\I. Jean de Bry was a proof of this ; that it was right to ]:>rint the speech of M. Delaunay, if they so pleased, but at any rate not to send it to the departments ; and that the}^ ought to return to tlie proposal of the com- mission. The discussion was accordingly adjourned till tlie 3rd of July. One deputy had not yet spoken. This was Vergniaud. A member of the C4ironde, and its most elocpient orator, he was nevertheless independent. Whether from thoughtlessness or from real elevation, he seemed to be above the passions of liis friends ; and in sharing their patriotic ardour, he did not always share their prepossessions and their vehemence.* When he had made up liis mind u^ion a question, he carried along with him, by his eloquence and a certain acknowledged impartiality, that floating portion of the Assembly which Mira- beau had formerly hurried away by his reasoning and his * "Vergniaud was au indolent man, and required to be stimulated ; but Avlieii once fairly excited, his eloquence was true, forcible, penetrating, and sincere."^ Dinnont. " 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." — Madame liolaiuVti Memoirs. Vergniaud was born at Limoges in 1759. He projected the decree which pronounced the 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, ^^'^^^ spent the night before his execution in discoursing with his friends upon revolutions and governments. His speeches were always carefully prepared beforehand. JULY 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 2 6 5 warmth. Wavering masses are everywhere decided by talents and reason.* It had been announced that he would speak on the 3rd of July. An immense concourse had assembled to hear this dis- tinguished orator on a question which was regarded as decisive. Accordingly he did speak, and first drew a sketch of the state of France. "If," said he,t "one did not believe in the im- perishable love of the people for liberty, one would doubt whether the Kevolution 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 trans- ferred to our territory, and we shall have left the unfortunate 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 progress would not be so rapid. " How happens it that this moment should have been chosen for the dismissal of the po^^ular ministers, for breaking the chain of their labours, for committing the empire to inex- perienced hands, and for rejecting the useful measures 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 C'oblentz or ^^ours that there is a desire to spare ? Is there a wish to reign over forsaken towns and devastated fields ? ... In short, where are we ? . . And you, gentlemen, what grand work are you about to undertake for the public weal ? "You, whom some flatter themselves that they have intimi- dated : you, whose consciences they flatter themselves that they have alarmed by stigmatizing your ^^atriotism as the spirit of faction, as if those who took the oath in the tennis- court had not also been called factious : you, who have been so slandered because you belong not to a proud caste which the constitution has thrown down in ih.^ dust : you, to whom are imputed guilty intentions, as if, invested with a power different from that of the law, you had a civil list : you, whose concern for the dangers of the people a 113^3 ocritical modera- tion hoped to cool : you, whom means have been found to divide, but who in this moment of danger will lay aside your animosities, your paltry dissensions, and not find it so delightful * This is a justice done to Vergniaud by the Journal cle Paris, at that time so celebrated for its opposition to the majority of the Assembly, and for the extraordinary talents of its conductors, especially of the unfortunate and immortal Andre Chenier. [See that paper of the 4th of July 1792.) t It is scarcely necessary to observe that I here analyze Yergniaud's speech, but do not give it verbatim. 2 66 IimWR Y OF JULY 1792 to hate one another as to prefer that infernal pleasure to the welfare of the country; — yon, finally, hearken to me! AVhat are your resources ? What does necessity command you ? What does the constitution permit you to do ? " During this exordium, loud ap])lause drowned the voice of the speaker. He continued his S]ieech, and exhibited two kinds of dangers — the one internal, the other external. "To remove the former, the Assembly has proposed a decree against the priests, and whether the spirit of a Medicis still hits beneath the vaults of the Tuileries, 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, without doing the King injustice, that he wishes for religious disturbances ! He fancies himself, then, sufficiently powerful — he has, then, ancient laws enough — to ensure the public tran- cjuillity. Let his ministers, then, answer for it with their heads, since they have the means of ensuring it ! "To provide against external dangers, the Assembly con- ceived the idea of a cam]i of reserve. The King rejected it. It would be doing liim injustice to suppose that he wishes to deliver x\\) France to the enemy ; he must therefore have forces sufficient to ]nT)tect 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 responsibility, and strives to exhibit it under the most threatening aspect. 'But," added he, "to throw the ministers into tlie 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 the 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 endea- \'0ured to raise Europe against us. It is to avenge the dir/nity of the King that the Treaty of Piliiitz has been concluded. It is to come to the aid of the King that the so^^ereign 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 liead of an army and directs its forces against the nation, or if he does not oppose by a formal act an enterprise of this k'ind 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 tliousand Atistrians were marching towards Flanders, and one JULY 1792 THE FRENCH UE VOLUTION, 267 hundred thousand Prussians towards Alsace, and the Kins- O were to oppose to them ten or twenty thousand men, would he have done a formal act of opposition ? " If the King, whose duty it is to notify imminent hostilities, apprized of the movements of the Prussian arm}', were not to communicate any infcirmation on the subject to the National Assembly ; if a camp of reserve, necessary 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 U) execute ; if the King were to lea\ e the command of an arm\' to an intrie'uins' ii'eneral. of whom the nation was suspicious ; if another general, bred afar from tlie corruption of Courts, and familiar with victory, were to demand a reinforcement, and the King were by a refusal to say to him, I forhicl flice to conquer — coukl it be asseited that the King had committed a formal act r»f opposition ? '"I have exaggerated several circumstances,'' resumed Yerg- niaud, ''to take away every ])retext for explanations 2:)urely h}q30thetical. But if, while France was swimming in blood, the Kino- were to sav to vou, 'It is true that tlie enemies pretend to be acting for me, for my dignity, for my rights, but I have proved tliat 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 tliem. I have stopjied a general who was on the point of concpiering ; but the constitution does not order victories. I have had ministers who decei\'ed the Assembly and disorganized the g^•^■ernment ; but their appointment belonged to me. The Assembly has passed useful decrees which I ha\'e not sanctioned ; but I had a right to act so. I liave done all that the constitution enjoined me. It is there- fore impossible to doubt my fidelity to it.' ' Aehement applause here burst from all (piarters. '•If then." continued Vergniaud, "the King were to hold tliis language, should you not have a riglit 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 whicli enabled you to defy them — was it defending us to oppose to the foreigii soldiers forces whose inferiority left not even uncertainty as to their defeat ? Was it defending us to thwart plans tend- ing to fortify the interior ? Was it defending us not to check a general who vir)lated the constitution, but to enchain the courage of those who were ser^'ing it ? Did the constitution 2 68 HISTOR Y OF july 1792 leave you the clioice of the ministers for our prosperity or for our ruin ? Did it make you the head of the army for our glory or our disgTace ? Did it, finally, confer on you the right of sanction, a civil list, and so many prerogatives, in order constitutionally to undo the constitution of the empire ? No ! no ! j\ian, in whom the generosity of tlie French has excited no corresponding feeling, insensible to everything but the love of despotism, you are lienceforth nothing to that constitution which you have so unworthily violated — to that peoj^le 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 necessarv measures for savino' us ; no doubt the march of the Prussians will not be so triumphant as they hope ; but it was recpiisite to foresee everything and to say everytliing, for frankness alone can save us." Yergniaud concluded by proposing a message to Louis XVI., firm but 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 constitution. He wished also that tlie Assembly should declare the country in danger, in order to awaken in hearts those mighty affections which have animated mighty nations, and which no doubt would be found in the French; "for," said he, "it will not be in the regene- rated Frencli of '89 that Nature will show herself degene- rated." He washed, finally, that an end should be put to dissensions which began to assume a sinister character, and that they should reunite those wdio were in Rome and on Mount Aventine. , As he uttered these last "words, the voice of the speaker faltered, and the emotion was general. The tribunes, the left side, in shr)rt all, applauded. Yergniaud left the tribune, and was surrounded by a crowd who thronged to congratulate him. He alone had dared to speak to the Assembly concerning the forfeiture of the crown, which was a general topic of conver- sation in ]')ublic ; but lie liad presented the subject only in a hypothetical manner, and clothed in forms still respectful, when compared Avith the language suggested l^y the passions of the time. Dumas came forward to reply. H(^ attem])ted to speak extempore after Yergniaud, before auditors still full of the feelings that he had excited. He several times claimed silence and an attention which it was not in his power to gain. He animadverted on the reproaclies urged against the executive power. "The retreat of Luckner," said he, "is owing to the JULY 1792 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 269 chance of battles, which cannot be governed in the recesses of (\abinets. Assuredly voii liave confidence in Luckner ? " Cries of "Yes! yes!'' were the answer; and Kersaint propnsed a decree declarino* that Lnckner had retained the national con- iidence. The decree was passed, and Dumas proceeded. He observed very justly, that if they had confidence in that general, they could not consider the intention of his retreat as culpable (»r suspicious; that as for the want of forces whicli was com- plained of. the marshal himself knew that all the troops then disposable were assembled for this enterprise; that, m()^e()^'er, everything must have been already prepared by the old (Tirondin ministry, the author of the offensive warfare ; and that if the means were inadequate, that ministry alone was to blame ; that the new ministers could iiot possibly repair all that was defective by a few couriers ; and lastly, that they had given carte hlancJic to Lnckner, and had left him the power to act according to circumstances and local situation. "The camp of twenty tlujusand men has been rejected," added Dumas; '"but in the first place, the ministers are not responsible for the veto, and in the next, the plan which they substituted in its stead was far preferal^le to that proposed by the Assembly, because it did not paral3'ze the means of recruit- ing. The decree against the priests has been rejected, but there is no need of new laws to ensure the public tran- quillity. Nothing is wanting but quiet, security, respect for individual liberty, and liberty of conscience. Wherever these liberties have been respected, the priests have not been seditious." Dumas concluded with justifying the King by ol)jecting that he 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 arraneinp' the forms accordinsr to which the country should be declared in danger, was passed amidst the most vehement applause. But the declaration of danger was adjourned, 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 imminent hostilities with Prussia, which he grounded on the convention of Pilnitz, 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 the march of the Prussian troo^^s to the number of fifty-two thousand men. •• Everything proves to me." added the King's message, "'an alliance between ^'ienna and Berlin. 2;o HIHTOUY OF july 1792 (There Avas a laugh at these words.) Agreeably to tlie terms of tlie constitution, i oive this intimation of it to the Legislative Body." ' Yes," replied several voices, " wlien the Prussians are at Coblentz." The message was referred to the commission of twelve. The discussion relative to the forms of the declaration of the country in daiKjer was continued. It was decreed that this declaration should be considered as a simple proclamation, and that consequentl}' it should not be subject to the royal sanction, which was not (juite just, since it comprehended legislative clauses ; but witliout meaning to proclaim it, the Assembly already followed the law of the public welfare. The discussions were daily increasing in violence. The wish of Vergniaud to unite those who were in Kome and on Mount Aventine was not fulfilled : the fear which each excited in the other was changed into irreconcilable hatred. There was in the Assembly a deputy named Lamourette,* constitutional JBishop of Lyons, who had never considered liberty in any other light than as a return to primitive frater- nity, and who was as much grie\ed as astonished at the divisions of his colleagues. He did not believe that the one liarboured 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 representa- tives that was the cause of all the evils, and to this disunion it behoved them to apply a remedy. " Oil ! " exclaimed the worthy prelate, "he who should succeed in reconciling yon, that man would be the real conqueror of Austria and of Coblentz. It is daily alleged, that at the point to which things have been carried, your reunion is impossible. Ah ! I tremble at the thought . . . bat tins is a calumny. There is nothing irreconcilable but guilt and virtue. G'ood men dispute warmh", because they are impressed with the sincere conviction of the correctness of their opinions ; but they cannot hate one another. * " After the dissolution of the Legislative Assembly, Lamourette went to Lyons, and continued there during the siege. He was afterwards conducted to- Paris, condemned to death, and decapitated in 1794. He was the author of several religious works." — Scott'a Life of Napoleon. JULY 1792 THE FU. ENCII RE ] IJL UTIOK 2 7 i (Tentlemen, the public weal is in your liands. Why d(^ you delay caiiyiug it into operation? '' AVhat is it tliat tlie two portions of the Assembly charge eacli other with? Ono accuses the other of wishino- to nuitlifv o « the constituti<'in l)y tho hands of foreigners ; and the latter accuses tlie formej- oF striving to overthrow tlie monarchy for the purpose of establishing a republic. Well, gentlemen, lnu-1 one and the same anatliema against a republic and tlie two chambers. Devote them to general execration by a last and irrevocable oatli ! I^et us swear to liave but one spirit, but one sentiment. Let us swear evei-lastins* fraternitv ! Let the enemy know that what we will, Ave all will, and the country is saved ! " ^Scarcely had the speaker finished these concluding words, wlien both sides of the Assembly rose, applauding his generous sentiments, and eager to rid themseh't's of the burden of their reciprocal animosities. Amidst universal acclamations, they devoted to public execration any project for changing the constitution either \)\ two chambers or h\ a republic; and tlie members rushed from the opposite benches to embrace one another. Those who liad attacked and tliose who had defended Lafayette, the veto, the civil list, the yrt6'^/^///„s. and the traitors, were clasped in each other's arms. All distinctions ceased, and Messrs. Pastoret and Condorcet, who the day before were loading one another with abuse in the public papers, were seen locked in each other's embrace. ^J'heri? was no longer any right or left side, and all the deputies sat indiscriminately together. Dumas was beside Basire, -Jaucourt next to ]\b'rlin, and ]\amond bv Chabot. It was immediately decided that they should inform the provinces, the army, and the King of this happy event. A deputation, headed by Lamonrette, repaired to the palace. Lamourette returned, announcing the intention of the King to come, as on the 4th of February 1 790. to exj^ress his satisfaction to tlie 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 tJie 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, assuredly not. Such a plan is not formed among so great a number of persons, and all at once, 2 72 HIS TOR Y OF july 1792 without premeditation. But hatred is burdensome ; it is a relief to get rid of the weiglit of it ; and moreover, at the prospect of the most threatening events, which party was it that in the uncertainty of victory would not gladly have consented to keep the present as it was, provided that it were ensured to them ? ^Fliis fact demonstrates that distrust and fear produced all the aiiimosities. that a moment of con- fidence allayed them, and that if the ])arty called republican thought of a repuljlic. it was not from system but from despair. Why did not the Jving, on returning to his palace, write immediately to Prussia and Austria. Why did he not combine with these secret measures some grand public mea- sure ? Why did he not say, like his ancestor Louis XIV., on tlie approach oi the enemy, Let us all go I But in the evening the Assembh^ was informed of the result of the proceedings instituted by the de])artment against Petion and Mainiel ; and this result was tlie suspension of those two magistrates. Prrtm wliat 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 ^Drevented others. In fact, his real sentiments were not then known, but it was strongly presumed that he had connived with the agitators. There were, moreover, some infringements of the law to lay to his charge. He w^as reproached, for instance, w^ith having been extremely dilatory in his communications to the different authorities, and with having suffered the council of the commune to pass a resolution (arreU) contrary to that 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 therefore 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 tw^o magis- trates enjoying the greatest popularity ? The King indeed referred the matter to the Assembly ; but without betraying its dissatisfaction, it sent back tlie decision to him that he might himself pronounce upon it. The tribunes recom- menced their usual cries ; a great number of petitions were presented, demanding Pc'^^07^ or death; and Grangeneuve, the deputy, who had been personally insulted, insisted on a re- port against the perpetrator of the outrage. Thus the recon- ciliation was already forgotten. Brissot, to whose turn it had come to speak on the question of the public danger, solicited time to modify the expressions of his speech, on JULY 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 273 account of the reconciliation wliicli had since taken place. Nevertheless he conld 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 con- cluded with propr)sing that the question of the forfeiture of the crown sliould be solemnly discussed ; that ministers shuuld be impeached for having so long delayed to notify the hostilities 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 ; tliat the organization of the national guards should be accelerated ; and lastly, that the Assembly should forth- with declare tin: country to be in davr/er. Intelligence was at the same time received of the conspiracy of Dessaillant, 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 Ard^che. and thence threatened the whole surroinidiiig 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 the great Frederick nevertheless murmured against this impolitic alliance. The electorates were all our open or concealed enemies. Bussia had been the first to declare against the Revolution ; she had acceded to the Treaty of Pilnitz ; she had flattered the projects of Gnstavus. and seconded the emigrants ; and all to decei^'e Prussia and Austria, aud to urge them both on against France whilst she acted against Poland. At that moment she was treatine' with i\lM. de O Nassau and d'Fsterhazy, leaders of the emigrants ; but notwithstanding her maguificent promises, she had merely furnished them w^ith a frigate, to rid herself of their presence at St. Petersburg. Sweden was immovable since the death of Gustavus, and admitted our ships. Denmark promised a strict neutrality. We might consider ourselves as being at war with the Court of Turin. The Pope was 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 the family compact, and to return to France the aid which she had received from her. England promised neutralitv, and gave fresh assurances of it. The United States would gladly have assisted us with all their means ; but those means were then null, on account of their distance and their thin population. VOL. I. 18 * 274 HISTORY OF JULY1792 Immediately after the 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 nth, after this report had been read, amidst profound silence, the presi- dent pronounced the solemn formula, CITIZENS, THE COUNTKY IS IN DANGER. From that moment the sittings were declared permanent. The discharge of cannon, fired from moment to moment, pro- claimed this important crisis. All the municipalities, all the 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 wdio came voluntarily to enrol themselves. The number enrolled amounted to fifteen thousand in one day.* The reconciliation of the 7th of July and the oath which followed, had not, as we have just 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 abdicate, presented itself to every mind as the only j^ossible remedy for the evils which threatened France. Vergniaud had merely pointed hypothetically to this idea ; but others, especially Torne, the deputy, were desirous that this supposition of Vergniaud should be considered as a reality. Petitions poured in from every part of France, to lend the aid of public opinion to this desperate scheme of the patriotic deputies. Tlie city of Marseilles had previously presented a threaten- ing petition, read to the Assembly on the 19th 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 -them proposed to accuse Lafay- "" "While the minds of men were wound up to the highest pitch by inflam- matory harangues, the committees to wliom it had been remitted to report on the state of the country, published the solemn declaration, ' Citizens, the country is in danger!' Minute guns announced to the inhabitants of the capital this solemn appeal, which called on every one to lay down his life on behalf of the State. Pikes were distributed to all those not possessed of lirelocks : battalions of volunteers formed in the public squares, and standards were displayed in con- spicuous situations, with the words, ' Citizens, the country is in danger ! ' These measures excited the revolutionary ardour to the utmost degree. An universal frenzy seized the public mind. Many departments openly defied the authority of government, and without any orders sent their contingents to form the camp of twenty thousand men near Paris. This was the commencement of the revolt which overturned the i\\vorve.'"—Almm. JULY 1792 TEE FRENCH RE VOL UTIOK 2 7 5 ette, to suppress tlie veto in certain cases, to reduce the civil list, and to reinstate Manuel and Petion in their municipal functions. Another demanded, together with the suppression of the veto, the publicity of the councils. But the city of Marseilles, which had set the first example of these acts of boldness, soon carried them to the utmost excess. It presented an address, recommending to the Assembly to abolish royalty in the reigning branch, and to substitute in its stead a merely elective royalty and without veto, that is to say, a purely executive magistracy, as in republics. The stupor produced by the reading of this address was soon followed by the applause of the tribunes ; and a motion for printing it was made by a member of the Assembly. The address was nevertheless referred to the commission of twelve, that the law declaring infamous every plan for altering the constitution might be applied to it. Consternation pervaded the Court. It pervaded also the patriotic party, which bold petitions were far from cheering. The King conceived that \TLolence was intended against his person. He attributed the events of the 20th of June to a scheme for murdering him, which had miscarried ; but he was assuredly wrong, for nothing would have been easier than the consummation of that crime if it had been ^orojected. 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 different dishes from those which were prepared in the offices of the palace.* As the anniversary of the Federation was approaching, the Queen caused a kind of breastplate, composed 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 King began to form a more correct notion of the nature of his danger ; and he already perceived that it was not the point of a dagger, but a judicial condemnation, that he had to dread ; and the fate of Charles I. continuallv haunted his tortured imagination. Lafayette, though repulsed by the Court, had nevertheless resolved to save the Eang. He therefore caused a plan of flight, that was veiy boldly conceived, to be submitted to him. He had first gained over Luckner, and had even extorted from the easy disposition of the old marshal a promise to march towards Paris. Lafayette proposed that * See Appendix ZZZ. 276 HISTORY OF july 1792 the Ej.ng should send for him and Luckner, upon pre- text of attending the Federation. The presence of two generals might, he thought, overawe the people, and prevent the dangers which were apprehended from that day. Lafay- ette further proposed that, the day after the ceremony, Louis XVI. 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 off from Paris. From Compiegne squadrons kept in readi- ness were to conduct him to the French armies, where Lafay- ette would depend on his sincerity for the maintenance of the new institutions. Lastly, in case none of these schemes should succeed, the general had determined to march with all his troops to Paris,* Whether this plan required too great boldness, and Louis XVI. had not enough of that quality, or whether the dislike of the Queen to Lafayette 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 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 factious by the able performance of his duty as a general." The anniversary of the Federation approached. The people and the Assembly were desirous that Petion should be pre- sent at the solemnity of the 14th. Tlie 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 himself, urging him daily to communicate his decision, that this matter might be settled before the 14th. On the 12th the King confirmed the suspension. The Assembly lost no time in taking its own course. What that was may easily be conceived. Next day, that is, on the 13th, it reinstated Petion. But from a shadow of delicacy, it post- poned 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. Tlie 14th of July 1792 at length arrived. How times had changed since the 14th of July 1790! There was neither that magnificent altar with three hundred officiating priests, * See Appendix AAAA. JULY 1792 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 277 nor that extensive area covered by sixty thousand national guards riclily dressed and regularly organized, nor those lateral tiers of seats crowded by an immense multitude in- toxicated with joy and deliglit ; nor lastly, that balcony where the ministers, the royal family, and the Assembly were accommodated at tlie first Federation. Everything was changed. People hated each other as after a hollow reconcilia- tion, and all the emblems indicated war. Eighty-three tents represented the eighty-three departments. iieside each of these stood a poplar, from the top of which waved flags of the three colours. A large tent was destined for the Assembly and the King, and another for the administrative bodies of Paris. Thus all France seemed to be encamped in the presence of the enemy. The altar of the country was but a truncated columu. placed at the top of those tiers of seats which had been left in the Champ de JMars ever since the first ceremony. On one side was seen a monument for those who had died, or who were destined soon to die, on the frontiers ; on the other, an immense tree, called the tree of feudalism. It rose from the 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 law proceedings, titles of nobility, escutcheons, coats of arms, &c. The King was to be invited to set fire to it. The oath was to be taken at noon. Tlie King had repaired to the apartments of the Militar}^ School, where he waited for the national procession, which had gone to lay the 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 visible. His sister, his children, surrounded liim. Some touching expressions excited emotion in those ^vho were in the apartments, and tears trickled from the eyes of more than one. At length the procession arrived. Until then the Champ de Mars had been * "The figure made by the King during this pageant formed a striking and melancholy jiarallel with his actual condition in the State. With hair powdered and dressed, with clothes embroidered in the ancient Court fashion, surrounded and crowded unceremoniously by men of tlie 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 tlie nuUtitude. AVhen lie ascended the altar, to go through the ceremonial of tlie day, all were struck with his resemblance to a victim led to sacrilice ; the (^)ueen so much so that she nearly fainted. A few children alone called out, ' Vive le Roi ! ' This was the last time Louis was seen in public until he mounted the scaffold." — ScoU'ts Life of Napulcon. 2 78 RISTOE Y OF july 1792 almost empty. All at once the multitude rushed into it. Beneath the balcony where the King was placed, a confused mob of women, children, and drunken men was seen to pass, shouting '' Petion l"or ever ! Petion or death ! " and bearing on their hats the words which they had in their mouths ; federalists, arm in arm, and carrying a re23resentation of the Bastille, and a press, which stopped from time to time for the purpose of printing and distributing patriotic s<:ings. Next came the legions of the national guard and the regiments of the troops of the line, preserving with difficulty the regularity of their ranks amidst the moving populace ; and lastly, the authorities themselves and the Assembly. The King then went down, and placed amidst a square of troops, moved on with the procession towards the altar of the country. The concourse in the centre of the Champ de Mars was immense, so that they could advance but slowly. After great exertions on the part of the regiments, the King reached the steps of the altar. The Queen, stationed on the balcony, which she had not quitted, watched this scene with a glass. The con- fusion 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.* The ceremony, however, passed off without accident. As soon as the oath was taken, the people hastened to the tree of feudalism. They 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 longer any such thing as feudalism. He then set out on his return to the Military School. The troops, rejoiced at having saved him, raised re- iterated shouts of " Vive le Roi ! " The multitude, which always feels constrained to sympathize, repeated these shouts, and was as prompt to pay him homage as it had been to insult him a few moments before. For a few hours longer the unfortunate Louis XVI. appeared to be beloved ; for an instant the people and 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 * "The expression of the Queen's countenance on this clay will never be efFaced from my remembrance. Her eyes were swollen with tears ; and the splendour of her dress, and the dignity of her deportment, formed a striking conti'ast witli the train that surrounded her. It required tlie cliaracter 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 sacred victim offering him- self as a voluntary sacrifice. He descended, and crossing anew the disordered i-anlv's, returned to take his place beside the Queen and his children." — Madame de Slael. JULY 1 7 9 2 THE FRENCH BE VOL UTION. 279 at having escaped the dangers which he conceived to be great, but alarmed at those which he beheld approaching. Tlie news which arrived daily from the frontiers increased the alarm and agitation. The declaration of the countr\/ in clanger had set all France in motion, and had occasioned the departure of a great number of federalists. There were only two thousand at Paris on the day of the Federation ; but they kej^t continually arriving, and the way in which they con- ducted themselves there justified both the fears and the hopes that had been conceived of their j^i'^sence in the capital. All voluntarily enrolled ; they comprised the most violent spirits in the clubs of France. The Assembly ordered them an allow- ance of thirty sous per day, and reserved the tribunes for them exclusively. Tliey 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 surpassed 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 Assembly. They would not set out, they said, till the enemies in the interior were overthrown. Thus the scheme of assembling an insurrectional force at Paris was completely accomplished 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 re- specting their disposition, sijice it was they who had begun the Revolution. To no purpose was it objected that these men, almost all of them subalterns in the army, constituted its principal force. The 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 decompose 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 the frontier, and by so doing it usur^Ded the disposal of the j)ublic 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 capitulations in justifica- tion of his refusal to leave Paris. The Assembly appeared to take into consideration the reasons which he urged, 28o HISTORY OF july 1792 but ordered for the moment the departure of two Swiss . battalions. The King, it is true, had his veto to resist these measures ; but he had lost all influence, and could no longer exercise his prerogative. The Assembly itself could not always with- stand the propositions brought foi'ward by certain of its members, and invariably supported by the applause of the tribunes. It never failed to declare itself in favour of modera- tion when that was ^Dossible ; 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, the petitions that were daily read, and the language that was used in all conversa- tions, indicated a speedy revolution. The Girondins foresaw and wished for it ; but they did not clearly distinguish the means, and dreaded the issue of it. Among the people com- plaints were made of their listlessness. They were accused of indolence and incapacity. All the leaders of clubs and sections, weary of eloquent speeches without result, loudly demanded an active and concentrated direction, that the popular efforts might not be unavailing. There was at the Jacobins a room appropriated to the business of correspondence. Here had been formed a central committee of federalists, for the purpose of concerting and arranging their j)roceedings. In order that their resolutions might be the more secret and energetic, this committee was limited to five members, and was 'trailed among themselves the insurrectional conwiittcc. These five members were Vaugeois, grand vicar ; Debesse of La Drome ; Guillaume, professor at Caen ; Simon, journalist at Strasburg ; and Galissot of Langres. To these were soon added Carra,* Gorsas, Fournier the American, Westermann,t Kienlin of Strasburg, Santerre, * "J. L. Carra called himself a man of letters before the Revolution, because he had written some bad articles in the Encyclopaedia. At the beginning of the troubles he went to Paris, made himself remarkable among the most violent Revolutionists, and in 1789 proposed the formation of the municipality of Paris and of the civic guard. It was Carra who thought of arming the people with ])ikes. Always preaching up murder and pillage in his writings, he was one of the chiefs of the revolt of the loth of August 1792 ; and in his journal he gloried in having traced out the plan of that day. Being denounced by Robespierre, he was condemned to death, and executed at the age of fifty. Carra was the author of several works, which have long since sunk into oblivion." — Bioyraphic Mod erne. t " Fr. Joseph Westermann, born at Molsheim, in Alsace, was an officer under the monarchy, but embraced the revolutionary party with ardour. On the loth of August he was the first who forced the Tuileries at the head of the Brest battalions. In 1792 and the following year he distinguished himself by his JULY 1792 THE FRENCH BE VOL UTION. 2 8 1 Alexandre, commandant of tlie Faubom-g St. Marceau. a Pole named Lazouski, captain of the gunners in the artillery of St. Marceau, Antoine of Metz, an ex-constituent, and Lagrey and Garin, two electors. It was joined by Manuel, Camille Desmoulins,* and Danton ; and these exercised the greatest influence over it.f They entered into arrangements with Barbaroux, who promised the co-operation of his Marseillais, whose arrival w^as impatiently expected. They placed them- selves in communication with Petion, the mayor, and obtained from him a promise not to prevent the insurrection. In re- turn they promised him to protect his residence, and to place a guard u^^on it, in order to justify his inaction by an appear- ance of constraint, if the enterprise should miscarry. The plan definitively adopted was to repair in arms to the palace, and to 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 neces- sary. Endeavours were made to produce one, and the subject was discussed at the Jacobins. Chabot,t the deputy, expatiated with all the ardour of his disposition on the necessity for a great revolution, and he said, that in order to bring about such a one, it was desirable that the Court should attempt the life of a deputy. Grangeneuve, him- self a deputy, heard this speech. 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 should perish, but the Court is too cunning to give us so fair an occasion. You must make amends and put me to death as soon as possible in the emarons of the palace. Prepare the means, and keep your secret." Chabot, seized with enthusiasm, offered to share his fate. Grange- bravery at the head of the Legion da Nord, of which he had obtained the command. He was afterwards transferred, with the rank of general of brigade, to the army which Biron then commanded in La Vendde. At Chatillon, how- ever, he was completely defeated ; his infantry was cut to pieces ; and he himself escaped with difficulty. Being attached to the party of the Cordeliers, he was denounced with them, and executed in 1794, in the fortieth year of his age." — Biographie Moderne. " Westermann ran from massacre to massacre, sparing neither adversaries taken in arms, nor even tlie peaceful inhabitants of the country." — Prud- /lommc. * "Camille Desmoulins had natural abilities, some education, but an extra- vagant imagination. He stammered in his speech, and yet he harangued the mob without appearing ridiculous, 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, who then seemed to feel a friendship for him." — Memoirs of a Peer of France. t See Appendix BBBB. X See Appendix CCCC. 282 HISTORY OF july 1792 neuve assented, observing that two deaths would produce a greater effect than one. They agreed upon the day, the hour, and the means of putting an end to their lives, without maiming themselves, as they said ; and they sepa- rated, resolved to sacrifice themselves for the success of the common cause, Grangeneuve, determined to keep his word, put his domestic affairs in order, and proceeded at half-past ten o'clock at night to the place of meeting. Chabot was not there. He waited. As Chabot did not come, he con- ceived that he had changed his mind, but he hoped that, 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, without enjoying the satisfaction of immolating himself for the sake of a calumny.* The occasion so impatiently looked for did not occur, and the parties 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 themselves more and more aloof, and con- demned these incessant agitations, which compromized them without producing any result. They reproached the subaltern agitators with exhausting their strength in partial and use- less movements, which exposed the jDeo^Dle without leading to any decisive event. The latter, on the contrary, who did in their respective spheres all that they could do, re- proached 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 them- selves 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 2Derson was to be found among the deputies. They were all of them rather orators than conspirators ; and besides, their elevated situation and their mode of life removed them too far from the multitude, on whom it was necessary to act. In « (( J. A. Grangeneuve, a lawyer, was deputy from the Gironde to the Legis- lature. He was one of those who, in concert with the Capuchin, Chahot, agreed to cause themselves to be mangled by men whom the}- had in pay, in order to exasperate the people against the Court ; but he was afraid of being mangled too effectually, so gave up his project. He Avas condemned to death as a Girondin in 1793. Grangeneuve was forty-three years old, and was born at Bordeaux." — Bioyrapliie Moderm. JULY 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 283 the same predicament were Roland, ^ervan, 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 oi^portunity to communicate easily with the multitude ; but he was cold, passionless, and capable of dying rather than acting. By means of his system of checking petty agitations, for the benefit of a decisive insurrection, he thwarted the daily movements, and lost all favour with the agitators, whom he impeded without controlling. Thev wanted a leader wIk). not havinp- a et 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 revolutionary 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 flao- in the revolntionarv 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 instigations to murder, had become an object of horror to all those who yet retained any moderation. A native of Neufchatel, and engaged in tlie study of the physical and medical sciences, he had boldly attacked the most firmly established systems, and had sliOAvn an acti^ ity of mind that might be termed convulsive. He was physician to the stables of Comte d'Artois when the Revolution commenced. He ruslied without hesitation into a new career, and soon acquired distinction in his section. He Avas 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, who rendered libert}^ im- possible. Horror and contempt were alternately" 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 most 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 he was imbued. The subterraneous life to which 2 84 RISTOE Y OF july 1792 he was doomed, in order to escape justice, had heated his temperament, and the public horror served still more to excite it. Our polished manners were, according to his notions, but vices which were hostile to republican equality; and in his ardent hatred for the obstacles, lie saw but one means of safety — extermination. His studies and his observations on the physical man must have accustomed him to conquer the sight of pain ; and his ardent mind, unchecked by any instinct of sensibility, proceeded directly 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 omnipo- tence, but of imposing upon him the terrible task of purifying society. The dictator was to have a cannon-ball attached to his leg, that he might always be in the power of the people. He was to have but one faculty left him, that of pointing out victims, and ordering death as their only chastisement. Marat knew no other penalty, because he was not for punishing 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 which was the result of that very fury, all the names mentioned to him, and which frequently had no existence. He de- nounced them without personal hatred, without fear, nay, even without danger to himself ; because he was out of the pale of human society, and because the relations between the injured and the injurer no longer existed between him and his fellow-men. Being recently included in a decree of accusation with Royou, the King's friend, he had concealed himself in the house of an obscm-e and indigent advocate, who had afforded him an asylum. Barbaroux was requested to call upon him. Barbaroux had cultivated the physical sciences, and had formerly been acquainted with Marat. He could not refuse to comply with this request, and conceived, when he heard him, that his mind was deranged. The French, according to this atrocious man, were but paltry revolutionists. "•Uive me," said lie, "two hundred Neapolitans, armed with daggers, and bearing on the left arm a muff, by way oF buckler; with them I will traverse Fj'ance and produce a revolution." He pro]:)(»sed that in order to mark the aristocrats, the Assembly should order them to wear a white ribbon on the arm. and tliat it should be lawful to kill them when three were found together. Under the nann* of aristocrats he JULY 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTIOK 2 8 5 included the royalists, the Feuillans, and the Girondins ; and when by chance the difficulty of recognizing and dis- tinguishing them was mentioned, he declared that it was impossible to mistake ; that it was only necessary to fall upon those who had carriages, servants, silk clothes, and who were coming out of the theatres. All such were assuredly aristocrats. Barbaroux left him horror-struck. Marat, full of his atro- cious system, concerned himself but little about the means of insurrection, and was, moreover, incapable of preparing them. 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 with his recommendation. But the latter, having no desire to make such a present to his native city, left that insensate wretch, whose apotheosis he was then far from foreseeing, where he found him. The systematic and bloodthirsty Marat was not therefore the active chief who could have united these scattered and confusedly fermenting masses. Robesj^ierre 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 advocate of little repute at Arras, had been sent 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 eloquence ; 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 jDrosecuted, his terror and his youth excited the pity of Buzot and Roland. An asylum was offered to him ; but he soon recovered from his alarm ; and the Assembly having broken up, he entrenched himself at the Jacobins, where he continued his dogmatic and inflated harangues. Being elected public accuser, Robespierre refused that new office, and thought only how to acquire the double reputation of an incorruptible 23atriot and an eloquent speaker. * See Appendix DDDD. 286 HISTORY OF July 1792 His first friends, Petion, Buzot, Brissot, and Eoland, admitted liim to their houses, and observed with pain his mortified jDride, 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 much 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 fol- lowing day to retail in the tribune the ideas of others which he had thus collected. This observation was mentioned to liim, but unaccomj^anied 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 Brissot^ and Louvet on the question of war, and called them, nay, perha^DS 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 he immediately suspected those who had opposed him, or did he slander them wilfully ? 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 understandings. Austerity and cold dogmatism captivate ardent characters, nay, often superior minds. There were actually men who were disposed to dis- cover in Eobespierre real energy and talents superior to those which he possessed. Camille Desmoulins called him his Aris- tides, 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 Kevolution, 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 * Sec Appendix EEEE. JULY 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 287 of being compromized, because one of them, dwelling in the same honse as himself, had occasionalh' brought thither the insurrectional committee. He kept himself, therefore, in the background, leaving the business of acting to his panegyrists, Panis, kSergent. Osselin, and other members of the sections and of the municipal councils. Marat, who was looking for a dictator, wished to ascertain if Kobespierre was fit for the 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 reading 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 — in 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 conduct the latter to him, sa}dng tliat a mem 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. Barbaroux replied with warmth to the reproaches urged against Petion, and as warmly defended a character which he admired. Robespierre talked of the Revolution, and repeated, according to his custom, that he had accelerated its march. He concluded, as every- body else did, by saying that a leader was wanted. Barbaroux replied that he wanted neither dictator nor king. Freron observed that Brissot was desirous of being dictator. Thus reproaches were bandied from one to the other, and they could not agree. As they w^ent 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 momentary 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, wliich falsely persuaded the 288 HISTORY OF july 1792 Girondins that Robespierre designed 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 parties is continually committing. Eobespierre, capable at the utmost of hating merit, had neither the streng1;.h nor the genius of ambition, and his 23artisans raised j^i'etensions for him which he himself would not have dared to conceive. Danton was more capable than any other of being the leader wdiom all ardent imaginations desired for the purpose of giving unity to the revolutionary movements. He had formerly tried the bar, but without success. Poor and con- su]ned by passions, he then rushed into the political com- motions 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, capti^'ated 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 aiiybody ; 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 mischievous systems, could not have many of those w^ants which render men accessible to corruption, Danton, on the contrary, the slave of his passions, and greedy of jDleasure, must have been nothing less than incorruptible. Under pretext of compensating him for the loss of his former place of advocate to the council, the Court gave him consider- able sums. But though it contrived to pay, it could not gain him.*' He continued, nevertheless, to harangue and to excite '^^ " I never saw any countenance tliat 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 Dantou's. lu 17S9 he was a needy lawyer, more burdened witli debts than causes. He went to Ijekdum to augment his resources, and after the loth of August liad the liardi- hood to avow a fortune of ;^I5S, 333, and to wallow in luxury while preaching sans-culottism, and sleeping on heaps of slaughtered men." — Madame Roland's Menioira. *' Danton was an e.\teriaiuator without ferocity ; inexorable with regard to the JULY 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 289 the mob of the clubs against it. When he was reproached with not fulfilUng his bargain, he replied, that in order to retain the means of serving the 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 hurrying; forward to the decisive mo- ment, he was not capable of that assiduous toil which the thirst of rule requires ; and though he possessed great influence over the conspirators, he did not yet govern them. He was merely capable, when they hesitated, of rousing their courage, and propelling them to the goal by a decisive plan of operation. The different 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 the French club, which met near the palace, and was composed of artisans and soldiers of the national guard. They had all their arms concealed in the very building in which they assembled ; and they could, in case of emergency, hasten to the aid of the royal famih^. This single association cost the civil list ten thousand francs per day. A Marseillais, named Lieutaud, kept, moreover, in pay a band which alternately occupied the tribunes, the ^^ublic places, the coffee-houses, and the public-houses, for the purpose of speaking in favour of the King, and opposing the continual tumults of the iDatriots."' Quarrels occurred, in fact, every- where, and from words tlie parties almost always came to blows ; but in spite of all the efforts of the Court, its adherents were thinly 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 rampart for him with their bodies. Their meetings at the palace were numerous, and they increased the public distrust. After the scene in February 1790 they were called knights of the dagger. Letters had been delivered for the purpose of calling secretly together the constitutional 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, Bai-nave, and Charles Lameth, wdio were in some measure his personal antagonists." — Mignct. * See Bertrand de Molleville, tomes viii. and ix. VOL. I. 19 * 290 HISTOR Y OF july 1792 guard, which, though disbanded, liad always received its pay. During this time conflicting opinions were maintained around the King, which joroduced the most painful perplexities in his weak and naturally wavering mind. Some intelligent friends, among others, Malesherbes,* advised him to abdicate. Others, and these constituted the majority, recommended flight. For the rest, the}^- 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 Bertrand de Molleville to see and to arrange matters with Duport, the constituent. The King had great confidence in the latter, and he was obliged to give a positive order to Bertrand, who alleged that he disliked to have any com- munication with a constitutionalist such as DujDort.f To this committee belonged also Lally-Tollendal, Mallouet, Clermont- Tonnerre, Gouvernet, and others, all devoted to Louis XVL, but otherwise differing widely as to 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 Gaillon, in Normandy, were then resolved upon. The Due de Liancourt, a friend of the King, and possessing his un- limited confidence, commanded that province. He answered for liis troo]^)^ 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 Gaillon, or to consign 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 project, 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 emigi^ants, it put him under the care of the Due de Lian- court and Lafayette. For the same reason it displeased others, and was likely to displease the Queen and the King. Still, the castle of Gaillon possessed the important advantage of being only thirty-six leagues from the sea, and of offering an easy flight to England through Nor- * Bee Bertrand de Molleville, tomes viii. and ix. + "Bertrand de Molleville, a stanch royalist, was first controller of Bretagne, and afterwards minister of marine, to which post he was appointed in 1791. After the events of the loth of August he was imprisoned by the Jacobins, but succeeded in making his escape to Loudon, where he published a voluminous liistory of the Revolution, which met with great success. Ho did not return to Paris after the iSth of Brumaire (1799}, but followed the fortunes of the Bour- bons. " — Biographic Moderne, JULY 1 7 9 2 TEE FRENCH RE VOL UTIOK 2 g r mand}', a favourably disposed province. It had also another, namely, that of being only twenty leagues from Paris. The King could therefore repair thither without violating the constitutional law ; and this had great weight with him, for he was extremeh^ tenacious of not committing any open in- fringement of it. jM. de Narbonne and Necker's daughter, Madame de Stael,* likewise devised 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 Ehine, through 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 suggestions added to the natural indecision of Louis XYL, and this unfortunate Prince, beset bv conflict- ing counsels, struck by the reason of some, hurried away by the passion of others, tortured by apprehensions con- cerning the fate of his family, and disturbed by scruples of conscience, wavered between a thousand projects, and be- held the popular flood approaching without daring either to flee from or to confront it.f The Gii'ondin deputies, who had so boldly broached the question of the forfeiture of the crown, continued, never- theless, undecided on the eve of an insurrection ; and though the Court was almost disarmed, and the supreme power was on the side of the people, still the apprcjach of the Prussians, and the dread always excited by an old authority even after it is disarmed, persuaded them that it would be better to come to terms with the Court tlian to expose themselves to the chances of an attack. In case this attack should even prove successful, they feared lest the 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. * " The Barouess de Stael-Holstein ^vas tlic dan,£;hter of the well-known Xccker. Her birth, her tastes, her princii)les, the reputation of her fnther, and above all, her conduct in the Revolution, brought her prominently before the world ; and the political factions and the literary circles with which she has been connected have by turns disputed with each other for her fame. After the death of Robespierre she returned to Paris, and became an odmirer of Bonaparte, with whom she afterwards quarrelled, and who banished her from France. She went to live at Coppiet, where she received the last sighs of her lather, and where she herself died. She published many works, the best of Avhicli is her novel of 'Corinne.' "When in England, in 1S12, she was much courted by the higher classes." — Biogra'ph ic Mndcrne. t See Appendix FFFF. 292 HISTORY OF JULY1792 Notwithstanding, however, this disposition to treat, they opened no negotiations on the subject, and durst not ven- ture to make the first overtures ; but they listened to a man named Boze, painter to the King, and veiy intimate with Thierr)^, valet-de-chambre of Louis XVI. Boze, alarmed at the dangers which threatened the jDublic weal, exhorted them to write what they thought proper in this extremity to save the King and liberty. They accordingly drew up a letter, which was signed by Guadet, Gensonne, and Verg- niaud, and which began with these words: ''You ask us, Sir, what is our opinion respecting the present situation of France." This exordium sufficiently proves that the expla- nation had been called for. It was no longer time, said the three deputies to Boze, for the King to deceive him- self, and he would do so most egregiously 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, decisive steps were abso- lutely necessary to give confidence to the j)eople. Every- body, for instance, was persuaded that it was in the power of the King to keep the foreign armies away. He ought^ therefore, to begin by making them draw back. He should then choose a patriotic ministry, dismiss Lafayette, who in the existing state of affairs could no longer serve him use- fullv, issue a law for the constitutional education of the young Dauphin, submit to the jDublic accountability of the civil list, and solemnly declare that he would not accept any increase of power without the free consent of the nation. On these conditions, added the Girondins, it was to be hoped that the irritation would subside, and that in time and by perseverance in this system the King would recover the confidence which he had then entirelv lost. Assuredly the Girondins were ver}^ near the attainment of their aim, if a 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 fixed 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 pul^lic weal for its sake, but would have consented to a con- stitutional monarchy if it were accompanied with suflicient J ULY 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 293 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 Avhich they paid to the education of the Dauphin affords as strong a proof that monarchy was not to them an insupport- able 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 falseness 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 c»thers of the same kind, sufficiently prove what credit ought to be attached 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 w^ere the only persons who signed the letter delivered to Boze. The deeply wounded heart of the King was less capable than ever of listening to their prudent advice. Thierry handed him the letter, but he harshly pushed it back, and returned his two accustomed answ^ers — that it was not he but the patriotic ministr}^ who had provoked the war ; and that as for tlu.^ con- stitution, he adhered to it faithfullv, whilst others were exert- ing all their efforts to destroy it.* These reasons were not the most just ; for though he had not provoked the w^ar, 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 observance <>f that letter was of little consequence. It behoved him not to comj^tromise the tiling itself by calling in foreigners. To the hopes entertained by the Girondins, that their counsels would be followed, must no doubt be attributed the moderation which they displayed when it w^as 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 the^^ came, in the name of the * See Appendix GGGG. 294 HISTORY OF july 1792 commission of twehe, 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," re- peated the tribunes. Yergniaud, Brissot, and the Girondins replied that they had their eyes upon the cause, and that in due time it should be un\'eiled ; 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 insurrectional committee resolved that its partisans should meet on the morning of the 26th of July, for the purpose of proceeding to the palace, and that they should march with the red flag, bearing this inscription : " Those who fire wpoii the cohiiiins of the j)eople shall instanthf he ]Out to deaths The intention was to make the King prisoner, and to confine him at Vincennes. The national guard of Versailles had been requested to second this movement ; but the application had been made so late, and there was so little concert with that corps, that its officers came on the very same morning to the ma3'or's residence at Paris, to inquire how they were to act. This secret was so ill kept that the Court was already apprized of it. All the royal family was stirring, and the palace was i'nll of j^eople. Petion, perceiving that the measures had not been judiciously taken, fearful of some treachery, and considering, moreover, that the ]\rarseillais had not yet arrived, repaired in the utmost haste to the faubourg, to stop a move- ment which must have ruined the popular party if it had not succeeded. The tumult in the faubourgs was tremendous. The tocsin had been rirjging there all night. The rumour spread for the purpose of exciting the people was, that a quantity of arms had been collected in the palace, and they were urged to go and bring them awa3\ Petion succeeded with great difiiculty in restoring order, and Champion de Cice, keeper of the seals, who also repaired to the spot, received several sabre strokes. At leng-th the people consented to stay, and the insurrection was deferred. The petty quarrels and wranglings which are the usual prelude to a definitive rupture continued without intermis- sion. The King had caused the garden of the Tuileries to l3e closed ever since the 20th of June. The terrace of the Fenillans, leading to the Assembly, was alone open ; and the sentries had directions not to suffer any person to pass from that terrace^ into the garden. D'Esprcmenil was there met conversing loudly with a deputy. He was hooted, pursued into the garden, and carried to the Palais Poyal, where he J I .■ LY 1792 THE FBENCH RE VOL UTIOX. 2 9 5 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 proj)osed to set up a board with the words, " It is forhidden to tre$2MSS on these r/roicnds.'' The board was accordingly erected, and it was sufficient to pre- vent the people from setting foot in the garden though the King had caused the sentries to 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 leng*th. on the 30th of July, the Marseillais arrived. They were five hundred in number, and their ranks com- prised all the most fieiy spirits that the South could pro- duce, and all the most turl^ulent characters that commerce brought to the port of Marseilles. Barbaroux went to (Jharenton to meet them. On this occasion a new scheme was concerted with Santerre. It was proposed, upon pretext of going to meet the Marseillais, to collect the people of the faubourgs, and afterwards to repair in good order to the Carrousel, and there encamp without tumult until the xlssembly had suspended the King, or till he had abdicated I )f his own accord. This project pleased the philanthropists of the party, who would fain have terminated the Revolution without blood- shed. It failed, however, because Santerre did not succeed in assembling the faubourgs, and could lead only a small number of men to meet the ]\Iarseillais. Santerre immediately offered them a repast, which was served up in the Champs Elysees. On the same day, and at the same moment, a party of the national guards of the battalion of the Filles St. Thomas, and of other persons, clerks or military men, wholly devoted to the Court, were dining near the spot where the ]\Iarseillais were being entertained. Most assuredly this dinner had not been prepared 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 insurrection that had been contemplated. It was nevertheless impossible for neighbours so adverse to finish their repast quietly. The populace insulted the royalists, Avho put themselves ujDon the defensive. The patriots, summoned 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 adversaries, put them to flight, killing one, and wound- 296 HISTORY OF JULY 1792 ing several others. In a moment all Paris was in com- motion. The federalists paraded the streets, and tore off the cockades of ribbon, saying that they 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 who had suffered for their attachment. The national guards on duty at the palace related these par- ticulars, perhaps added to them, and this furnished occasion for fresh reports, and fresh animosity against the royal family and the ladies of the 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 ^Daper attributed to the Prince of Brunswick, and soon ascertained to be authentic, was circu- lated. We have already adverted 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 distorted. Another manifesto, inspired by the passions of Coblentz, was signed with the name of Brunswick, and distributed in advance of the Prussian army. This paper was couched in the follow- ing terms : — " Their Majesties the Emperor and the King of Prussia having entrusted me with the command of the combined armies assembled by their orders on the frontiers of France, I am desirous to acquaint the inhabitants of that kingdom with the motives which have determined the measures of the two sove- reigns, and the intentions by which they are guided. "After having arbitrarily suppressed the lights and posses- sions 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 liis august family, outrages and attacks of violence which are still continued and renewed from day to day ; those who have usurped the reins of the administration have at lenglh filled up the measure by causing an unjust war to be declared against his IMajesty the Emperor, and attacking his provinces situated in the Netherlands : some of the possessions of the Germanic empire have been involved in this oppression, and JULY 1792 THE FRENCH BE VOL UTION, 297 several others have escaped the same danger solely by yielding to the imperative menaces of the predominant j^arty 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 German}^ "With these great interests an object equally important is joined, and which the two sovereigns have deeply at heart, namely, to 23ut an end to the anarch}^ in the interior of Fi'ance, to stop the attacks directed against the throne and the altar, to re-establish the legal power, t<'» rest(jre to the King the security and liberty of which he is deprived, and to place him in a condition to exercise the legitimate authority which is his due. " Convinced that the sound part of the French nation abhors the excesses of a faction which 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 u^^on and invite til em to return without delay to the ways of reason and justice, of order and peace. Agreeably to these views, I, the under- signed, commander-in-chief of the two armies, declare — "I. That the two allied Courts, forced into the present war by irresistible circumstances, pro^Dose to themselves no other aim than the happiness of France, without pretending to enrich themselves by conquests ; " 2. That thev intend not to interfere in the internal p'overn- ment 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 safety necessary to enable him to make without danger, witliout im^^ediment, such convocations as he shall think proper, and labour to ensure the liappiness of his subjects, agreeably to his promises and in as far as it shall depend U20on him ; "3. That the combined armies will protect the cities, towns, and villages, and the persons and property of all those who shall submit to the Kino-, and that thev will concur in the instantaneous re-establishment of order and police throughout France ; "4. That the national guards are summoned to watch ad 298 HISTOR Y OF july 1792 interim over the tranquillity of the towns and of the country, and over the safety of the persons and property of all the French, till the arrival of the troops of their imperial and royal Majesties, or till it shall be otherwise ordained, upon jDenalty of being held personally responsible ; that, on the contrary, such of the national guards 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 Ej.ng, and as disturbers of the public peace ; '■5. That the generals, officers, subalterns, and soldiers of the French troops of the line, are in like manner summoned 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 misdemeanours, fires, murders, pillage, and acts of violence which they shall suffer to be committed, or which they shall notoriously not strive to prevent, in their territory ; and they shall, in like manner, be rec[uired to con- tinue their functions ad interim till his most Clmstian Majesty, restored to full liberty, shall have made ulterior provisions, or till it shall have been otherwise ordained in his name in the meantime ; "7. That the inhabitants of the cities, towns, and villages, who shall dare to defend themselves against the troops of their imperial and royal ]\rajesties, and to lire upon them, either in the open field, or from the windows, doors, and 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 inhabitants, 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, shall be from that moment under their immediate safeguard. Their persons, their propert}^, their effects, shall be under the protection of the laws ; and provision shall be made for the general safety of all and each of thi^m. " 8. The city of Paris and all its inhabitants without distinc- tion are required to submit immediately and without delay to the King, to set that Prince at full and entire liberty, and to ensure to him, as well as to all the royal personages, the inviolability and respect ^vhicll the law of nature and nations renders obligatory on subjects towards their sovereigns ; their imperial and royal Majesties holding personally responsible with their lives for all that may happen, to be tried militarily, and without hope of pardon, all tht^ members of the National JULY 1792 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 299 Assembly, of the department, of the district, of 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, moreover, on their faith and word, as Emperor and King, that if the palace of the Tuileries is forced or insulted, that if the least \'iolence, the least outrage, is offered to their iMajesties the King and Queen, and to the royal family, if immediate provision is not made for their safety, their preserva- tion, and their liberty, they will take an exemplary and ever- memorable vengeance by giving up the city of Paris to military execution and total destruction, and the rebels guilty of out- rages, to the punishments which they shall have deserved. Their imperial and royal JMajesties, on the other hand, ^^romise the inhabitants of the city of Paris to employ their good offices w^ith 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 recognize as laws in France any but those which shall emanate from the King, enjoying perfect libert3^ protest beforehand against the authen- ticity of all the declarations which may be made in the name of his most Christian Majesty, so long as his sacred person, that of the Queen, and of tlie 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 which 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 pur^Dose, in order that his most Christian Majesty may be enabled in complete 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 administration 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, en- S'agine' to treat with kindness and moderation those well- disposed subjects who shall show themselves peaceful and submissive, and not to employ force unless against such as shall be guilty of resistance or hostilil^y. '' 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 tlie operations of the troops -00 HISTORY OF july 1792 which I command, but rather to grant them everywhere free entrance and all goodwill, aid, and assistance that circum- stances may require. (Signed) ''CHARLES WiLLIAM FERDINAND, Duke of Brimswick-Luneburg. " Given at the headquarters at Coblentz, the 25th of July 1792." What appeared surprising in this declaration was that dated on the 25th of July, at Coblentz, it should be in Paris on the 28th, and be printed in all the royalist newspapers. It produced an extraordinary effect.* Promises poured in from all quarters to resist an enemy whose language was so haughty and whose threats were so terrible. In the existing state of minds it was natural that the King and the Court should be accused of this new fault. Louis XVI. lost no time in disavowing the manifesto by a message, and he could no doubt do so with the utmost sincerity, since this paper was so different from the model which he had proposed ; but he must already have seen from this example how far his intentions would be exceeded by his jDarty, should that party ever be victorious. ISTeither his disavowal, nor the exj^res- sions with which it was accompanied, could satisfy the Assembly. Adverting to the people, whose happiness had always been so dear to him, he added, " How many sorrows might be dis^^elled by the slightest mark of its return to loyalty ! " These impressive words no longer excited the enthusiasm which they had in times past the gift of producing. They were regarded as the language of deceit, and many of the deputies voted for their being printed, in order, as they said, to render public the contrast which existed between the words and the conduct of the King. From that moment the agitation continued to increase, and circumstances became more and more aggravated. Intelligence was received of a resolution {firveU) by which, the department of the Bouches du Elione withheld the taxes for the ^^urpose of paying the troops which it had sent against the forces of Savoy, and charged the measures taken by the Assembly with insuffi- ciency. This was the effect of the instigations of Barbaroux. ^' " Had tins manifesto been couched in more moderate lan_G;ua!;'e, and followed up by a rapid and energetic military movement, it might have had the desired cHcet ; but coming, as it did, in a moment of extreme public excitation, and en- forced, as it was, liy the most feeble and inefficient military measures, it contri- buted in a signal manner to accelerate the march of the Revolution, and was the immediate cause of the downfall of the throne." — Alison. AUG. 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTIOK 3 o i The resolution was annulled by tlie Assembly, but its execu- tion could not be prevented. It was rumoured at the same time that the Sardinians who were advancing amounted to fifty thousand. The minister for foreign affairs was obliged to repair in person to the Assembly, to assure it that the troops collected did not exceed at the utmost eleven or twelve thousand men. This report was followed by another. It was asserted that the small number of federalists who had at that time proceeded to Soissons had been poisoned with glass mixed uj^ with the bread. It was even affirmed that one hundred and sixty were already dead, and eight hundred ill. Inquiries were made, and it was ascertained that the flour was kept in a church, the windows of which had been broken, and a few bits of glass had been found in the bread. There was, however, not one person either dead or ill. On the 2 5tli of July a decree had rendered all the sections of Paris permanent. They had met, and had directed Petion to propose in their name the dethronement of Louis XVI. On the morning of the 3rd of August the mayor of Paris, emboldened by this commission, appeared before the Assembly 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 Eevolution ; he recapitulated, in the language of the time, the benefits conferred by the nation on the King, and the return which the King had made for them. He expatiated on the dangers by which all minds were 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 number 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 presented 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^Dlayed without reserve.* Some were for * " The question of abdication was discussed witli a degree of frenzy. Such of the deputies as opposed the motion were abused, ill-treated, and surrounded by- assassins. They had a battle to tight at every step the}' took ; and at length they did not dare to sleep in their houses." — Montjoic. 302 HISTORY OF aug. 1792 taking lip 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, pro- nounced 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. The Assemblv, as we have alreadv seen, did not follow the insurrectional movement so promptly as the inferior autho- rities, 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 resolution 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. The committee deferred the insurrection till the dav when the dethronement should be discussed, that is, till the evening of the 9th of August or the morning of the loth. The King's friends, on their part, were deliberating res2:)ecting his flight in the garden of M. de Montmorin. MM. de Liancourt and de Lafa3^ette renewed their offers. Everything was arranged for dejoarture. Money, however, was wanting. Bertrand de Molle^■ille had uselessly exliausted the civil list by paying- royalist clubs, spouters in tribunes, speakers to groups, pre- tended bribers, who bribed nobody, but put the funds of the Court into their own pockets. The want of money was supplied l^y loans which generous persons eagerly offered to the King. The offers of M. de Liancourt have already been mentioned. He gave all the gold that he was able to pro- cure. Others furnished as much as they possessed. Devoted friends prepared to accompany the carriage that was to AUG. 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 3 o 3 coii\'ey the royal family, and if it were necessaiy, to perish 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 whole evening. The King, who saw them immediately afterwards, assented to this resolution, and ordered them to arrange with M]\I. de Montciel and de Sainte-Croix. AYhatever might be the opinions of those who agreed to this enterprise, it was a great joy to them to believe for a moment in the approaching deliverance of the m.onarch.* But the next day everything was changed. The King directed this answer to be given, that he should not leave Paris, because he would not begin a civil war. All those who, with very different sentiments, felt an equal degree of anxiety for him, were thunderstruck. They learned that the real motive was not that assigned by the King. Tlie real one was, in the first place, the arrival of Brunswick, announced as very near at hand ; in the next, the adjournment of the insurrection ; and above all, the refusal of the Queen to trust the constitutionalists. She had energetically ex]3ressed her aversion, sapng that it would be better to perish than to put theuiselves into the hands of those who had done them so much mischief, t Thus all the efforts made by the constitutionalists, all the dangers to which they had exposed themselves, were useless. Lafayette had seriously committed 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 suffered 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, that he was unacquainted with the French language, wept, and complained that he was surrounded by factious persons only. Guadet had the address to draw from him a confession of Lafayette's pro- posals, and Bureau de Puzy, accused of having been the inter- mediate ao'ent. was summoned to the bar. He was one of the friends and officers of Lafayette. He derjied everything with assurance, and in a tone which persuaded the committee that the nee,'otiations of his Q'eneral were unknown to him. "- See Appendix HHHH. t See Mtiiioh'es de Madame Campan, tome ii. p. 125. 304 HISTORY OF aug. 1792 The question whether Lafayette should be placed under accusa- tion 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 Corde- liers, where the club of that name was held. They were in the heart of Paris, and close to the scene of 'action. Two municipal officers had had the boldness to order cartridges to be distributed among the conspirators. In short, every- thing was ready for the loth. On the 8th the cfuestion concerning Lafayette was dis- cussed. It was decided by a strong majority that there was not sufficient ground for an accusation. 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 peojole, roused by this intelligence, collected about the door of the hall, insulted the dejDuties as they went out, and ^oarticularly maltreated those who were known to belong to the right side of the Assembly, such as Vaublanc, Girardin, Dumas, &c. From all quarters abuse was poured forth against the national representation, and the ^oeople 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 agita- tion prevailed among the deputies. Those who had been insulted the day before complained personally or by letter. When it was stated that M. Leaucaron 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 him. "What!" nobly replied M. de Girardin, " know you not that cowards never strike but behind one's back ? " At leugth a member called for the order of the day. The Assembly, however, decided that Rcederer, the procitreur syndic of the commune, f should be summoned to the bar, and enjoined, upon his personal responsibility, to prov^ide for the safety and the inviolability of the members of the Assembly. * "Lafayette was burnt in effigy by the Jacobins, in the gardens of the Tuileries. " — Prudhomme. t " P. L. Ro3derer, deputy from the tiers-Hat of the bailiwick of Metz, embraced the cause of the Revolution. On the loth of August he interested himself in the fate of the King, gave some orders for liis safety, and at last advised him to repair to the Assembly, which completed the ruin of Louis, and comi:)romized AUG. 1792 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 305 It was proposed to send for the mayor o£ Paris, and to oblige him to declare, yes or no, whether he could answer for the public tranqnillity. Guadet answered this proposition by another for summoning the King also, and obliging him in his turn to declare, ves or no, whether he could answer for 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 themselves would rather have brought about the dethronement by a deliberation than recur to a doubtful and murderous attack. During these proceedings Roederer arrived, and stated tliat one section liad determined to ring the tocsin, and to march upon the Assembly and the Tuileries, if the dethronement were 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 they appeared to him better than those of the municipality. Petion, as well as all his Girondin friends, j^referred a decla- ration of dethronement by the Assembly to an uncertain com- bat 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 of surveillance of the Jacobins, and begged Chabot to suspend the insurrection, telling him that the Girondins had resolved upon the dethronement and the immediate con- vocation of a national convention ; that they were sure of a majority ; and that it was wrong to run the risk of an attack, the result of which was doubtful. Chabot replied that nothing* was to be hoped for from an assembly which had absolved the scoundrel Lafayette ; that he, Petion, allowed himself to be deceived by his friends ; that the people had at haigth resolved to save themselves ; and that the tocsin would be rung that very evening in the faubourgs. ''Will you always be wrong- headed, then? " replied Petion. "Woe betide us if there is a lisine"! ... I know vour influence, but I have influence too, and will employ it against you." "You shall be arrested and prevented from acting," rejoined Chabot. Rci3clerer. Having survived the Reign of 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 iSth Eruniaire 1799. He was an able journalist, temperate in his principles, and concise and vigorous in his style."— Biographic Modernc. VOL. I. * 20 * 3 o 6 HIS TOR Y OF aug. 1 7 9 2 People's minds were in fact too highly excited for the fears of Petion to be understood, and for him to be able to exercise his influence. A general agitation pervaded Paris. The drum beat the call in all quarters. The battalions of the national guard assembled and repaired to their posts with very dis- cordant dispositions. The sections were filled, not with the greater number, but with the most ardent of the citizens. The insurrectional committee had formed at three points. Fouriiier and some others were in the Faubourg St. Marceau ; Santerre and AVestermann occupied the Faubourg St. Antoine ; lastly, Danton, Camille Desmoulins, and Carra were at the Cordeliers with the j\Iarseilles battalion. Barbaroux, after stationing scouts at the Assembly and the palace, had provided couriers ready to start for the South. He had also provided himself with a dose of poison, such was the uncertainty of success, and awaited at the Cordeliers the 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 revolution ; but Danton, 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 constitution, its deceitful language, its hy]^)ocritical promises, always belied by its conduct, and lastly, its evident machinations for bringing in foreigners. ''The people," said he, "can now have recourse but to themselves, for the constitution is insufficient, 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 u^Don the people and to slaughter them, before they leave Paris to repair to Coblentz. Save yourselves, then ! To arms ! to arms ! " At this moment a musket was fired in the Cour du Com- merce. The cry To arms I soon became general, and the insurrection was proclaimed. It was then half-past eleven. The Marseillais formed before the door of the Cordeliers, seized 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 dif- ferent 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, AUG. 1792 THE FBENCH REVOLUTION. 307 and taking all the authority into their own hands. Lastly, they ran to the bells, made themselves masters of them by main force, and the tocsin began to ring. This dismal sound pervaded the whole extent of the capital. It was ^^'ai'ted from street to street, from building to building. It called the deputies, the magistrates, the citizens to their posts. At length it reached the palace, proclaiming that the terrible night was come ; that fatal night, that night of agitation and blood, destined to be the last wdiich the monarch should pass in the palace of his ancestors.* Emissaries of the Court came to apprize it that the moment of the catastrophe 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 20tli of June had been the threat, the lotli of August was the decisive stroke. On that point, in fact, there was no longer room for doubt. The King, the Queen, tlieir two children, and their sister, Madame Elizabeth, had not retired to bed, but had gone after supper into the council-chamber, where all the ministers and a great number of superior officers were deliberating, in dismay, on the means of saving the royal family. The means of resist- ance were feeble, and had been almost annihilated, either by decrees of the Assembly, or 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, wdio 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 Kins' at the time of the last Federation had been removed from Paris by the accustomed expedient of decrees. The Swiss could not be removed, owing to their capitula- tions, but their artillerv had been taken from them ; and the Court, when it had for a moment decided upon flight to Normandv, had sent thither one of those faithful battalions, upon pretext of guarding supplies of corn that were expected. " "At midnight a cannon was fired, the tocsin sounded, and the g^ndrale beat to arms in every quarter of Paris. The survivors of the bloody catastrophe Avhich was about to commence 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 waggons along the streets, the cries of the insurgents, the march of the columns, rung in their ears for long after, even in the moments of festivity and rejoicing." — Alison. 3o8 HISTORY OF aug. 1792 This battalion liad not yet been recalled. Some Swiss only, in barracks at Courbevoie, had been authorized by Petion ta 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, the national guard had neither the same officers, nor the same organization, nor the same attachment, as on the 6tli of October 1789. The staff, as we have seen, had been reconstituted. A great number of citijzens had become dis- gusted with the service, and those wdio had not deserted thej.r post were intimidated by the fury of the ^oopulace. Thus the national guard was, like all the bodies of the State, composed of a new revolutionary generation. It was divided, with the whole of France, into constitutionalists and republicans. The whole battalion of the Filles St. Thomas, and part of that of the Petits Peres, were attached to the Eang. The others were either indift'erent 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 wealthy citizens from undertaking it. Locksmiths and blacksmiths were thus left in possession 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 guard. It will be recollected that the command of the national guard after Lafayette's removal had been transferred to six commanders of legions in rotation. It had fallen on that day to the commandant Mandat, an old officer, displeasing to the Court for his constitutional opinions, but possessing its entire- confidence from his firmness, his intelligence, and his attach- ment to his duties. Mandat, general-in-chief on that fatal night, had hastily made the only possible dispositions. The floor of the great gallery leading from the Louvre to the Tuileries had already been cut away for a certain space, to prevent the passage of the assailants. Mandat in conse- cjuence took no precautions for protecting that wiug, but directed his attention to the side next to the courts and the garden. Notwithstanding the signal by drum, few of the national guards had assembled. The battalions remained in- complete. The most zealous of them proceeded singly to the palace, where Mandat had formed them into regiments, and AUG. 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 309 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 them- selves 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 whose moderation had prevented them from emigrating, and who in the moment of danger had come forward, some to absolve themselves for not ha\TLng gone to Coblentz, others to die generously by the side of their Prince. They had hastily provided them- selves with all the 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 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 rendering it any service, merely obstructed the national guard, which could not reckon upon it, and tended only to increase the confusion, which was already too great. All the members of the departmental directory had repaired to the palace. The virtuous Due de la Eochefoucauld was there. Ece'derer, the 2^'^^ocurcnr syndic, was there too. Petion was sent for, and he repaired thither with two municipal officers. Petion was urged to sign an order for repelling 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 Assembly, 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. i( M. de St. Souplet, one of the King's equerries, and a page, instead of muskets, carried upon their shoulders the tongs belonging to the King's ante- chamber, which they bad broken, and divided between them." — Madame Campari. 3 I o HISTOR Y OF aug. 1 79 2 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 suf- ficiently 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 Mar- seillais, formed at most a few thousand men. At this moment, in fact, the Faubourg St. Marceau was not yet formed ; Santerre hesitated in the Faubourg St. Antoine ; Danton alone and the Marseillais had ventured to form at the Cor- deliers, 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 hesitation 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 faubourgs ; but as soon as they should be in motion, to attack them at two decisive points. He sug- gested, in the first place, that when one party of them should debouch upon the Place of the Hotel de A^ille, by the arcade of St. Jean, they should be suddenly charged ; and that at the Louvi'e, those who should come by the Pont Neuf, along the qua}^ of the Tuileries, should be served in the same manner. He had actually ordered the gendarmerie posted at the colonnade to suffer the insurgents to file ^Dast, 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 was almost certain. The necessary orders had already been gi\'en 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 ]\Ianuel only were retained. The order was shown to this insurrectional municipality. It immediately summoned the commandant to appear at the Hotel de Ville. Tlie 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 deem- iug it right yet to infringe the law by refusing to appear, exhorted liim to comply. Mandat then decided. He put into tliH bauds of his son, wlio was with him at the palace, the order signed by Petion to repel force by force, and obeyed the summons of the municipality- It was about four o'clock AUG. 1 7 9 2 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTIOK 3 1 1 ill the morning. On reaching the Hotel de Ville he was surprised to find there a new authority. He was instantly suiTounded and questioned concerning the order which he had issued. He was then dismissed, and in dismissing him the president made a sign which was equivalent to sentence of death. No sooner had the unfortunate commandant retired than he was seized and shot with a pistol. The murderers stripped him of his clothes, without finding about him the order, which he had delivered 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 liad impatientl}?- Avaited for the Faubourg St. Antoine, which did not arrive, and for a moment they concluded that the plan had miscarried. But Westermann had pointed his sword to the body of vSanterre, and forced him to march. The fau- bourgs had then successively arrived, some by the Kue St. Honore, others by the Pont Neuf, 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 ap- peared stronger than they really were. While they were proceeding to the palace, Santerre had hurried to the Hotel de Yille, to get himself appointed commander-in-chief of the national guard, and '\^''estermann had remained on the field of battle, to direct the assailants. Everything was therefore in the utmost confusion, so much so that Petion, who, according to the preconcerted plan, was to have been kept at home by an insurrectional force, was still waiting for the guard that was to screen his responsibility by an apparent constraint. He sent himself to the Hotel de \i\\e, and at last a few 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 w^ere 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 discovered pointed at the palace, and their confused shouts and threatening songs were heard. The plan of anticipating them had been anew proposed ; but tidings of Mandat's death had just been received, and the 12 HISTORY OF AUG. 1792 opinion of tlie ministers, as well as of the department, was, that it was best to await the attack, and siiif er themselves to be forced within the limits of the law. Eoederer had just gone through the ranks of this little 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 the belt of old d'Affry, she pre- sented 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.* As for the King, he feared nothing for his own person ; nay, he manifested great coolness in this extreme peril ; but he 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 upon the balcony, he perceived, without agitation, many pieces of artillery pointed against the palace. His presence still ex- cited some remains of enthusiasm. The caps of the grena- diers were all at once uplifted on the points of swords and bayonets; the old cry of " Vive le Boi!" rang for the last time beneath the Avails of the paternal palace. A last spark of courage was rekindled. Dejected hearts were cheered. For a moment there was a gleam of confidence 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 "■ Vive le lioi !" rang in the court. Some joined those wlio thus hailed the presence of the monarch ; others, holding different sentiments, fancied themselves in danger, and calling to mind all the popular fables that had been circulated, imagined that they were about to be given up to the knights of the dagger. They immediately cried out that they were l>etrayed by that villain * See Appendices II 1 1 ami J.TJJ. AUG. 1792 THE FRENCH EE VOL UTION. 3 1 3 Mandat, and raised a kind of tumult. The gunners, follow- ing their example, turned their pieces against the front of the palace. A quarrel instantly ensued with the royal battalions. The gunners were disarmed and consigned to a detachment, and the new-comers were despatched towards the gardens. At this moment the King, after showing himself in the balcony, went down - stairs to revieAV 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 expres- sive looks which penetrated all hearts. Addressing the soldiers, he said, with a firm voice, that he was touched by their attachment, that he should be by their side, and that in defending him they were defending their wives and their children. He then proceeded through 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 which had just entered. Two officers who were at his side were then anxious to prevent him from continuing the review in the garden ; others begged him to go and ins^^ect the post at the Pont Tournant. He courageously complied ; but he was (il^liged to pass along the terrace of the Feuillans, which was crowded with people. During this walk he was separated from the furious multitude merely by a tri-coloured 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 the gunners, and the shouts of " Down with the veto ! " had extinguished all hope in the 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^oied the apartments, and which could, it was conceived, be relied u]3on, was on its part dissatisfied at being with the gentlemen, and apjoeared to distrust them. The Queen strove to encourag'e it. "Grenadiers," cried she, pointing to those gentlemen, "these are your comrades; they are come to die by your side." In spite, however, of this apparent * " I Avas at a window looking on the garden. I saw some of the gunners quit their posts, go up to the King, and thrust their fists in his face, insulting him in the most brutal language. He was as pale as a corpse. When the royal family came in again, the Queen told me that all was lost ; that the King had shown no energy ; and that this sort of review had done more harm than good." — Madame Cam2ian. 314 HISTORY OF AUG. 1792 courage, her soul was overwhelmed with despair. The review had ruined everything, and she lamented that the King 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 battle it behoved him to be uncovered, like the meanest of his servants.* He was not, therefore, deficient in courage, and he afterwards displayed a truly noble and elevated courage ; but he lacked the boldness requisite for offensive operations. He lacked also consistency, and ought not, for example, to have dreaded the effusion of blood, when he consented to the invasion of France by foreigners. It is certain, as has fre- quently been observed, that had 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 confusion 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. This 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. Tlie Queen vehement^ opjDosed this plan.f ''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 Rcederer, "you answer for the * "The Queen told me that tlie 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 July, because he was merely going to a ceremony, where the blade of an assassin was to be apprehended ; but that on a day on which his party might have to fight against the Revolutionists, bethought there was some- thing cowardly in preserving his life by such means." — Bladame Campan. t "The Queen felt at once all the dishonour of throwing themselves as sup- pliants 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 her way to the Assembly was robbed of her watch and purse." — Scott" s Life of Napoleon. AUG. 1792 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION. 3 i 5 lives of the King and of my children." '' Madame," replied the procureur 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 gentlemen and servants rushed forward to follow the King, though it was possible that they might compromise him by irritating the populace and exciting the ill-will of the Assembly by their presence. Eccderer strove in vain to stop them, and loudly declared that they would cause the royal family to be murdered. He at leng-th succeeded in keeping back a great number, and the royal party set out. A detach- ment 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 con- course 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 Assemblv. The King and his family then entered, followed by two ministers. '"I come," said Louis XVI., '"to prevent a great crime, and I think, gentlemen, that I cannot be safer than in the midst of you." Vergniaud, who presided, replied to the monarch that he might rely on the firmness of the National Assembly, and that its members had sworn to die in defence of the constituted authorities. The King seated himself beside the president ; but on the observation of Chabot, that his presence might affect the freedom of deliberation, he was placed in the box of the writer appointed to report the jDroceedings. The iron railing was removed, that in case a forcible entry should be made into the box, he might with his family take shelter without impediment in the Assembly. In this o^^eration the Prince assisted with his own hands. The railing was pulled down, and thus insults and threats could the more freely reach the dethroned monarch in his last asvlum.* * " An ordinary workman of the suburbs, in a dress which implied abject poverty, made his way into tlie place where the royal family were seated, demand- ing the King by the name of Monsieur Veto. 'So you are here,' he said, 'beast of a Veto ! There is a purse of gold I found in your house yonder ; if you had found mine you would not have been so honest.'" — Barharouxs Memoirs. Lacretelle denies the truth of this anecdote. J 1 6 HIS TOR Y OF auCx. 1792 Rcederer then gave an account of what had happened. He described the fniy of the multitude, and the danger which threatened the palace, the courts of wliich were already in the possession of the mob. The Assembly ordered twenty of its commissioners to go and pacify the populace. The commis- sioners departed, A discharge of cannon was all at once heard. Consternation 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 the same moment the door of the hall was attacked, and rang with tremendous blows. Armed citizens appeared 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 leng-fch the tumult was appeased, and amidst the uninterrupted reports of the musketiy and cannon the deputies shouted, "The nation, liberty, equality for ever ! " At this moment, in fact, a most 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 pre- vented any attention from being paid to the subject, and no order had been issued fur 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 gentlemen, and the ofiicers. The crowd at the palace was inniiense, and it was scarcely possible to move there, notwithstanding its vast extent. The rabble, probably ignorant of the King's departm-e, after waiting a considerable time before the principal wicket, at length attacked the gate, broke it open with hatchets, and rushed into the royal court. They then formed in column, and turned against tlie palace the guns imprudently left in the court after the troops had been withdrawn. The assailants, however, yet forbore to attack. They made amicable demon- strations to the soldiers at the windows. " Give up the palace to us," said tlie}'. "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 colr.mns, advanced beneath the vestibule of the palace. At the foot of the great staircase had been placed a piece of AUG. 1 7 9 2 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTIOK 3 1 7 timber in the form of a barrier, and behind it were entrenched, pell-mell, some Swiss and national guards. Those 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 assailants 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 of 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 tremendous dis- charge immediately pealed in the ^^alace, and those who had penetrated 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 amicablv, and that when thev had once entered the j)alace 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 ine\'itable 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, thev 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 spite 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 the court. Terror instantly seized the popu- lace, who fled on all sides and regained the faubourgs. If the Swiss had at this moment followed up their advantage ; if the o-endarmes stationed at the Louvre, instead of desertino; their post, had charged the repulsed besiegers, the business would have been decided, and victory would have belonged to the palace. 3 I 8 HISTORY OF aug. i 792 But at tliis 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 dis- charges. The palace was thus deprived of the greater portion of its defenders. Still, however, a considerable number 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 dangers. Meanwhile the besiegers had rallied. The Marseillais, united to the Bretons, were ashamed of having given way. They took courage again, and returned to 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 them- selves masters of the palace. Tlie rabble, with pikes, poured in after them, and the rest of the scene was soon but one general massacre.* The unfortunate Swiss in vain begged for quarter, at the same time throwing down their arms. They were butchered without mercy. The palace was set on fire ; the servants who filled it were pursued ; some escaped ; others were sacrificed.! Among the number there were generous conquerors. '' Spare the women," cried one of them ; '•do not dishonour the nation!" and he saved the Queen's ladies, who 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. Among those furious conquerors there were even feelings of honesty, and either from po^Dular vanity or from that disinterestedness which springs from enthusiasm, the money found in the palace was carried to the Assembly. * " It was no longer a battle, but a massacre. The enraged multitude broke into the palace, and put to death every person found within it. The fugitives pursued into the gardens of the Tuileries were murdered under the trees, amidst the fountains, and at the feet of the statues. Some wretches climbed up the marble monuments which adorn that splendid spot. The 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 in- stance of taste for art, mingled with revolutionary cruelty unparalleled in the history of the world." — Alison. '[ See Appendix KKKK. •y:i •-.'3 &> Z- o =^ AUG. 1 7 9 2 THE FRENCH RE VOL UTION, 3 1 9 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 fuiy. The hall was filled with wrecks that Avere brought thither, and with 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 \vithin the narrow box of a reporter, witnessed the ruin of their throne and the joy of their con- querors.* Yergniaud had for a moment quitted the chair, for the purpose of drawing up the decree of dethronement. He returned, and the Assembly passed that celebrated decree, to this effect : — Louis XVI. is for the time being suspended from royalty ; A plan of education is directed for the Prince-Eoyal ; A national convention is convoked. Was it, then, a plan long resolved upon to overthrow the monarchy, since they only suspended the King and provided an education for the Prince ? With what fear, on the con- trary, did they not lay hands on that ancient power ! With what a kind of hesitation did they not approach that aged tree beneath which the French generations had been alter- nately fortunate or unfortunate, but under which at least they had lived ! The public mind, however, is prom^^t. It needed but a short interval to throw off the relics of an ancient venera- tion ; and the monarchy suspended was soon to become the 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 ujDon a throne. * See Appendix LLLL. APPENDICES. A. [Parje 4.] Jacques Necker. " Jacques Necker was the son of a tutor in the college of Geneva. He began life as a clerk to M. Thellusson, a banker at Paris, whose partner he afterwards became, and in the course of twelve or thirteen years his fortune surpassed that of the first bankers. He then thought of ol)tain- ing some place under government ; but he at first aimed only at the office of first commissioner of finance, to attain Avhich he endeavoured to acquire a literary reputation, and published a panegyric on Colbert. Necker was beginning to enjoy some degree of reputation when Turgot was disgraced, and anxious to profit by the dissipation in which the new minister, Clugny, lived, he presented statements to M. de Maurepas in which he exaggerated tlie resources of the State. The rapid fortune of Necker induced a favouial)le opinion of his capacitj^ and after Clugny died, he was united with his successor, M. Taboureau des Reaux, an appointment which he obtained partl}^ by the assistance of the Marquis de Pezay. After eight months' administration, Necker, on the 2nd of July 1777, compelled his colleague to resign, and presented his accounts in 1 78 1. Shortly after he endeavoured to tfike advantage of the public 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 suftered 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 17S8, 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 con j miction with the prime minister. Eager for popular applause, Necker lioped to govern everything 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 Decemlier 17S8 respecting the formation of the States-general, proved the first spark which lighted tlie combustible matter that had long been prepared. On the nth of July, when the Court thought fit to declare against the factions, Necker, who had become absolutely their sentinel in the very council of the King, was dismissed; but on the i6th the Assembly wrote him a letter, expressing their regret at his withdrawal, and informing him that they had obtained his recall. His return from Basle to Paris was one continued triumph. During the remainder of VOL. I. 3=1 21 322 APPENDICES. the year he was constantly presentint^^ new statements on the resources of the revenue ; but he soon perceived that his influence was daily diminishing. At last the famous Red Book appeared, and completely put an end to his popularity ; so that in tlie month of December he determined to fly, after havinii; seen the populace tear from the i(ate of his house the inscription, ' To the adored minister.' He died at Geneva on the 9th of April 1804, after a short but painful illness." — From a Memoir of NecJcer in the Biogrccphie Moderne. B. [Pc(ge lo.j Philip Egalite, Due d'Orleans. "Louis -Philippe -Joseph, Due d'Orleans, one of the French princes of the blood, was born at St. Cloud, on the 13th of April 1747, and rendered the title of Due de Chartres, which he bore till his father's death, celebrated by his depravity. He was in stature below the middle size, but very well made, and his features were rei^ular and pleasing, till libertinism and debauchery covered them with red, inflamed pustules. He was very early bald, was skilled in all bodily exercises, kind and compassionate in his domestic relations, and endowed with good natural abilities, though ignorant and credul()us. As he was t<^ succeed the Due de Penthiuvre in the oflice of high-admiral, he thought fit in 1778 to make a naval campaign, and commanded the rear-guard of M. d'Orvilliers' fleet in the battle oft" Ushant, in which he was on board an 84-gun ship. It was then assiduously rumoiu'ed that the Due de Chartres had con- cealed himself in the hold of tlie ship — which seems impro])able, as the vessel in -which he was, was never within reach of the cannon. The Court, however, took up this injurious anecdcjte, and when he ajjpeared, overwhelmed him with epigrams ; the King, too, instead of making him high-admiral, appointed him colonel-general of the hussars — n singular and contemptuous reward for sea-service, which is said to have partly laid the foundation of his hatred for Louis. Some time afterwards he ascended in a balloon ; and as a few years before he liad gone down into a mine, where he was said to have shown but little self-possession, it was stated that he had thought propL^r to show all the elements his cowardice. On the death of the Comte de Clermont he got himself appointed master of all the masonic lodges in France. In 17S7 his father died, and he then took the title of Due d'( )rleans, and sought to render himself popular. By the advice of his creatures he opposed the King in the royal meeting on the 19th of Noveanber 1787, and was exiled to Villers-Cotterets ; but in return for the sums he lavished on the journalists, he soon became the idol of the populace. Another method which he successfully put in })ractice t(> obtain the favour of the people, was to buy up corn, and then relieve those who Avere lan- guishing under the artificial scarcity. In 1788-9 public tables were spread, and fires lighted, by his order, for the paupers of the metropolis, and sums of money were likewise distril)uted auK^ng them. In the very earliest meetings he protested against the proceedings of his chamber, and joined that of the tiers-eUU with the dissentient members of his order. From this period he divided his time between the meetings of APPENDICES, 323 the National Assembly and those of his own advisers, who assembled first at the Palais Royal, and afterwards at Passy. On the 3rd of July he was nominated president of the National Assembly ; but he refused the post, and busied himself in corruptintr the regiment of French guards, and in preparing the events of July the 14th. Lafayette having menaced him with the tril)unals if he did not leave France, he went over to England; but at the end of eight months retin-ned, and was received with transport by the Jacobins. In 1 79 1, M. Thevenard, before he re- signed the administration of the marine, caused the Duke to be appointed admiral of France, for which the latter went to thank the King in person, and to assure him how grossly he liad been misrepresented. When, however, he appeared at the levee, all the courtiers insulted him in the most outrageous manner, to which he would never be persuaded that their Majesties were not privy, and this excited his irreconcilable enmity against them. On the 15th of September 1792 the commune of Paris authorized him to assume the name of Egalite for himself and his descendants, and deputed him to the National Convention. When the King's trial took place the Due d'Orleans voted for the death of his cousin with a degree of coolness which irritated the majority of the Jacobins themselves, and excited murmurs throughout the Assembly. On the fatal day he came to the Place de Louis XV., and was present during the execution, in an open carriage ; as soon as the body was removed, he returned to the Palais Royal, and went in a carriage drawn by six horses to revel at Rainc)^ with his accomplices. It was then said that the Prince of Wales, having been informed of his conduct on this occasion, tore in pieces his portrait, which he had left him. Towards the end of April, Robespierre caused his name to be erased from the list of Jacobins, though Egalite had sworn to the Convention on the 4th of the same month, that if his son (King Louis Philippe), who had just fled with Dumouriez, was guilty, the image of Brutus, which was before his eyes, would remind him of his duty. Soon afterwards a warrant was issued f ( >r his arrest ; he was removed to the prisons of Marseilles, and after six months' captivity sent to take his trial at Paris. As a matter of course, the revolutionary tribunal found him guilty, and he was guillotined on the 6th of November 1793, when he was forty-six years of age. He shrugged his shoulders on hearing the people hiss and curse him as he was led to death, and cried out, * They used to applaud me.' " — From an article in tJte Uiograjj/iie Muderne. c. [Page 24.] The 4TH of May 1789. I should not quote the following passage from the Memoires of Ferrieres if base detractors had not ventured to carp at everything in the scenes of the French Revolution. The passage which I am about to extract will enable the reader to judge of the effect 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 then wrote down whilst still full of what I had 324 APPENDICES, felt. If this passage is not historical, it will perhaps have a stronger interest for some readers. '' The nobility in black coats, the other garments of cloth of gold, silk cloak, lace cravat, plmned hat turned up a la Henri IV.; the clergy in surplice, wide mantle, square cap ; the bishops in their purple robes, with tlieir rochets ; the tiers dressed in black, with silk mantle and cambric cravat. The King placed himself on a platfcn-m richly deco- rated ; Monsieur le Comte d'Artois, the princes, the ministers, the great ofhcers of the Crown, were seated below the King ; the Queen placed herself opposite to the King ; Madame la Comtesse 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 regiments 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 stuffs, the windows filled with spectators of all ages of both sexes, lovely women elegantly attired : every face bespoke kindly emotion, every eye sparkled with joy; clapping of hands, expressions of the warmest interest, the looks that met us, and that still followed after we were out of sight . . , rapturous, en- chanting scene, to which I should vainly strive to do justice ! Bands of music, placed at intervals, rent the air with melodious sounds ; military marches, the rolling of drums, the clang of trumpets, the noble chants of the priests, alternately heard, without discordance, without confusion, enlivened this triumphal procession to the temple of the Almighty. " Plunged into the most delicious ecstasy, sublime but melancholy thoughts soonpre sented themselves to my mind. I beheld that France, my country, supported by Religion, saying to lis. Desist from yom' puerile (juarrels ; this is the decisive moment which shall either give me new life or annihilate me 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 destructive S3'stems 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, shall vanish like a light smoke driven by the southern blast P 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 ! Without thee, veneral^le Religion, it would have been but an empty parade of pride ; but thou })urifiest and sanctifiest, thou heightenest 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 per- fumes, that can<:)p3^, that sun resplendent with gold and jewels. . . . I called to mind the words of the prophet : ' Daughters of Jerusalem, your King cometh ; 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 golden fleurs-de-lis; 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 APPENDICES. 3 2 5 was carried to the altar to the sound of the most impressive music. It was ail sti.lidaris Hoslia / This natural but true and melodious vocal performance, unencumbered by the din of instruments which drown the expression; this mass of voices, rising in wt.'ll-refj;ulated accord to heaven, convinced me that the simple is always beautiful, always i,aand, always sublime. . . . Men are idiots, in their vain wisdom, to treat as puerile the worship that is paid the Almiij;hty, A\'ith what indiilerence do they view that moral cliain which binds man to God, which renders Him visible to the eye, sensible to the touch ! . . . M. de la Fare, Bishop of Nanci, delivered the discourse. Relitrion constitutes the strength of empires ; religion constitutes the prosperity of nations. This truth, which no wise man ever do\ibted for a single moment, was not the im- portant question to be treated in the august assembly; the place, the circumstance, opened a wider field : the Bishop of Nanci durst not or could not traverse it. " On the following day the deputies met in the hall of the Minus. The assembly was neither less imposing, nor the sight less magnificent, than the preceding day." — Mttnoircs da Marquis de Fcrrieres, tom. i. D. [Page 27.] The Comte de Mirabeau. " Honore Gabriel Riquetti, Comte de Mirabeau, was born in 1749. Youthful impetuosity and ungoverned passions made the early part of his life a scene of disorder and misery. After having been some time in the army, he married Mademoiselle de Marignane, a rich heiress in the city of Aix ; but the union was not fortunate, and his extravagant expenses deranging his aftairs, he contracted debts to the amount of 300,000 livres, in consequence of which liis father obtained from the Chatelet an act of lunacy against him. Enraged at this, he went to settle at Manosque ; Avhence he was, on account of a private quarrel, some time afterwards removed, and shut up in the castle of If. He was then conveyed to that of Joux, in Franche-Comte, and obtained permis- sion to go occasionally to Pontarlier, where he met Sophia de Kuftey, Marquise de Monmir, the wife of a president in the parliament of Besan^on. Her wit and beauty inspired Mirabeau with a most violent passion, and he soon escaped to Holland with her, l)ut was for this out- rage condemned to lose his head, and would prol)ably have ended his days far from his country, had not an agent of police seized him in 1777, and carried him to the castle of Vincennes, where he remained till December 1780, when he recovered his liberty. The French Revolution soon presented a vast field for his activity ; and being rejected at the time of the elections by the nobility of Provence, he hired a warehouse, put up this inscription, ' Mirabeau, woollen draper,' and was elected deputy from the tiers-etat of Aix: from that time 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 at the monarch, who was covered with the Crown jewels, and said to those near him, * P)ehold the victim already adorned ! ' He soon took possession of the tribune, and there discussed the most important matters in the organi- 326 APPENDICES. zation of society. He had never at that time conceived the possibihty of estabhshing a democracy in so immense a State as France. His motive for seeking popularity was solely that he might regulate it Court which he caused to tremble ; but the Court conunitted the fault of n* )t seeking to seduce his ambition. He then connected himself with the Due d'Or- leans, from whom he obtained certain sums that he wanted ; but soon perceiving that it was impossible to make anything of such n 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 clay he made the King new overtures, 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 Mercey and M. de Montmorin, 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 suc- ceeded 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 he could no longer direct. On the i6th of January 1791 he was appointed a member of the department of Paris, and on the 31st, presi- dent of the National Assembly. This being the period of his closest connection with the Court, he wished as president to acquire new celebrity, and show himself capable of directing the Assembly ; a design which he executed with a degree of address admired even by his enemies. On the 28th of March he was taken ill, and died on the 2nd of April, at half-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 Iris 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 moment of his death he retained all his fortitude and self- possession ; on the very morning 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 public calamity, and it is remarkable that all parties, believing him to be in their interests, joined in regretting him. His obsequies were celebrated with great pomp ; all the theatres were shut ; the deputies, the ministers, the members of all the authoritative assemblies, formed a procession which extended above a league, and which w^as four hours marching ; and his body was placed in the Pantheon beside that of Descartes. In November 1793 his ashes were, by order of the Convention, removed thence, and scattered abroad by the people, who at the same time burned his bust in the Place de Greve, as an enemy to the republic, and one who had corresponded with the royal family. Thus did Mirabeau verify what he had himself said, 'that the Capitol was close to the Tarpeian rock, and that the same people who flattered him would have had equal pleasure in seeing him hanged.' Mirabeau was of middle stature ; his face was disfigured by the marks of tlie small-pox ; and the enoi'mous (juantity of liair on his liead irave him scmie reseml)lancc to a lion. He was of a lofty character, and liad talents wliich were extraordinary, and some APPENDICES. 327 which were subhme ; his fehcity of diction was unrivalled, and his know- led<,^u of the human heart profound; hut he was essentially a despot, and had he i^overned an empire, he would have surpassed Richelieu in pride, and Mazarin in pijlicy. Naturally violent, the least resistance inflamed him : when he appeared most irritated, his expression had most eloquence ; and beint,' a consummate act( >r, his voice and gestures lent a new interest to all he said. His chief passion was pride ; and though his love of intrigue was unbounded, it can be ascribed only to his pecuniary necessities. In the last year of his life he paid immense dt5V)ts, bought estates, furniture, the valuable library of Buftbn, and lived in a splendid style." — Front the article " Mirabeau," in the Bio- graphic Moderne. E. [Payc^i.] The Resolution of Conciliation. I think it right to state here the motives on which the Assembly of the conimons founded the resolution which it was about to take. This first act, which connnences the Revolution, being of high importance, it is essential to justify the necessit}^ for it ; and I think this camiot be done better than by the considerati()ns which preceded the resolution (arrete) of the commons. These considerations, as well as the arrtte itself, belong to the Abbe Sii'yes. " The Assembly of the commons, deliberating on the overture of con- ciliation proposed by the commissioners of the King, has deemed it incumbent on it to take at the same time into consideration the re- solution (arrete) which the nobility have hastened to adopt respecting the same overture. " It has seen that the nobility, notwithstanding the acquiescence at first professed, soon introduced a modification which retracts it almost entirely, and that consequently their resolution {arrete} on this subject cannot be considered as any other than a positive refusal. " From this consideration, and because the nobility have not desisted from their preceding deliberations, in opposition to every plan of re- union, the deputies of the commons conceive that it has become abso- lutely useless to bestow any further attention on an expedient which can no hmger 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 original position, the Assembly judges that it can no longer wait inactive for the privileged classes without sinning against the nation, which has 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 tliem- seh'es M'ithout further delay into an active Assembly, capable of com- mencing and fulfilling the object of their mission. " The Assembly directs the commissioners who attended the various conferences called conciliatory, to draw up a report of the long and vain etibrts of the deputies of the commons to bring back the classes of the privileged to true principles ; it takes upon itself the exposition of the motives which oblige it to pass from a state of expectation to a 328 APPENDICES. state of action ; finally, it resolves that this report and these motives shall be printed at the head of the present deliberation. . " But since it is not possible to form themselves into an active Assembly without previously recognizing those who have a right to compose it — that is to say, those who are qualified to vote as repre- sentatives of the nation — the same deputies of the commons deem it their duty to make a last trial with the clergy and the nobility, who claim the same quality, l)ut have nevertheless refused up to the present moment to make themselves recognized, " Moreover, the Assembly having an interest in certifying the refusal of these two classes of deputies, in case they should persist in their determination to remain unknown, deems it indispensable to send a last invitation, which shall be conveyed to them by deputies charged to read it before them, and to leave them a copy of it, in the following terms : — " ' GextlemilX, — AVe are commissioned by the deputies of the commons of France to apprize you that they can no longer delay the fulfilment of the ol)ligation imposed on all the representatives of the nation. It is assuredly time that those who claim this quality should make them- selves known by a common verification of their powers, and begin at length to attend to the national interest, which alone, and to the ex- clusion of all private interests, presents itself as the grand aim to which all the deputies ought to tend by one general etfort. In consequence, and from the necessity which the representatives of the nation are under to proceed to l)usiness, the depiities of the commons entreat you anew, gentlemen, and their duty enjoins them to address to you, as well individually as collectively, a last summons to come to the hall of the States, to attend, concur in, and submit, like themselves, to the common verification of powers. We are at the same time directed to inform you that the general call of all the baillagcs convoked will take place in an hour, that the Assembly will immediately proceed to the verification, and that such as do not appear Avill be declared defaulters." F. [Page 4 2. J The Constitution. I support with notes and quotations only such passages as are sus- ceptible of being disputed. The question, whether we had a constitu- tion, seems to me one of the most important of the Revolution ; for it is the absence of a fundamental law that justifies our having determined to give ourselves one. On this point, I think it impossilile to (juote an authority more respectable and less suspicious than that of M. Lally- Tollendal. On the 15th of July 1789 that excellent citizen delivered a speech in the chamber of the nobility, the greater part of which is subjoined : — '* Long repioaches, tinctured, moreover, with considerable acrimou}^, have been made, gentlemen, against members of this Assembly, who, with equal pain and reserve, have expressed doubts on Avhat is called our constitution. This subject has not perhaps a very direct connection with that at present under discussion ; but since it has afforded ground for accusation, let it also furnish one for defence ; and permit me to address a few words to the authors of those reproaches. APPENDICES. 329 " You have assuredly no law which enacts that tlie States-general are an integral part of the sovereignty, for you are demanding one ; and up to this day, sometimes a decree of council forbade them to deliberate, at others a decree of parliament annulled their deliberations. " You have no law that fixes the periodical return of your States- general, for you are demanding one ; and it is one hundred and seventy- five years since they were assemblud. "You have no luw to protect 3'our individual safety and liberty from arbitrary attacks, for you are demanding one ; and during the reign of a King whose justice is 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 tlio preceding reign all the magistrates in the kingdom were dragged from their seats, from their homes, and scattered by exile, 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 further, and you will find a hundred thousand Idtres dr cachet issued on account of paltry theological squabbles ; and further still, and }^ou 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 which establishes the liberty of the press, for you are demanding one; and up to this time your thoughts have been en- slaved, your wishes chained ; the cry of your liearts under oppression has been stified, sometimes by the despotism of individuals, at others l)y 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 burdened with more than three or four hundred millions of taxes without having consented to a single one. " You have no law which establishes the responsibility of all the ministers of the executive power, for you are demanding < »ne ; and the creators of those sanguinary commissions, the issuers of those arbitrary orders, the dilapidators of the public exchequer, the violators of the sanctuary of public justice, those Avho 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 under- gone 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 all 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 ro^-al authority, which is of importance to the prosperity and the dignity of the nation, has been indecentl}' degraded, either by the great, \\'ho with one hand shook the throne, and with the other crushed the people, r itself the inviola- bility of the public property ; it claims in all its extent individual liberty, as it has just established f(»r ever the national libertj'" ; it claims the liberty of the press, or the free communication of thought ; it inveighs with indignation against h'ttrr< de rarlui which dispose in an arbitrary manner of persons, and against the vi(_)lation of the secrecy of the post, one of the most absurd and most infamous inventions of despotism. "Amidst this concurrence of claims, we have remarked, gentlemen, some particular modifications relative to lettres dc cachet and the liberty of the press. You will weigh them in your wisdom ; you will no doubt cheer up that sentiment of French honour, which in its horror of dis- grace has sometimes misconceived justice, and which will no doubt be as eager to submit to tlie law when it shall command the strong, as it was to withdi'aw itself from its control when it pi'essed only upon the weak ; you will calm the uneasiness of leligion, so frequently assailed by libels in the time of the prohibitory system ; and the clergy, recollecting that licentiousness was long the companion of slavery, will itself acknow- ledge that the first and the natural effect of liberty is the return of order, of decency, and of respect for the objects of the public veneration. " Such, gentlemen, is the account which your committee has conceived itself l)ound to render of that part of your instructions which treats of the constitution. You will there find, no doubt, all the foundation- stones of the edifice which you are charged to raise to its full height; but you will perhaps miss in them that order, that unity of political combination without which the social system will always exhibit nume- rous defects: the powers are there indicated, but they are not yet dis- tinguished by the necessary precision ; the organization of the national representation is not sufticiently established, the principles of eligibility are not laid in tliem : it is from yoin- labours that those results are to spring. The nation has insisted on being free, and it is you whom it has charged \nth 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 liave it in your power, gentlemen, to give a constitution to France : the King and the people demand one : both the one and the other have deserved it. ^^ lu'sidt of the Analysis of the Indrwtions. " AVOWED PRINCIPLES. "Art. I. The French government is a monarchical government. " 2. The person of the King is inviolable and sacred. " 3. His crown is hereditary from male to male. ••4. The King is the depositary of the executive power. 334 APPENDICES. " 5. The agents of authority are responsible. "6. 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 States-general to another. " 10. Property shall he sacred. "II. Individual liberty shall be sacred. " Qicestions mi vjhich the whole of the Indrurtions have not explained them- selves in a uniform manner. "Art. I. Does the King possess the legislative power, limited by the constitutional laws of the kingdom ? " 2. Can the King, singly, make provisional laws of police and adminis- tration in the interval between the holding of the States-general ? '' 3. Shall these laws be subject to free registration in the sovereign courts ? " 4. Can the States-general be dissolved only by themselves ? "5. Has the King alone the power to convoke, prorogue, and dissolve the States-general P " 6. In case of dissolution, is not the King obliged immediately to issue a new convocation ? '* 7. Shall the States-general be permanent or periodical ? " 8. If they are periodical, shall there or shall there not be an inter- mediate commission ? " 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 ? "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 proportion of one, two, and three ? " 13. Shall there be established ii, third order with the title of order of the farmers P " 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 res(jlution ? " 16. Shall taxes having for their object the liquidation of the national del)t be levied till its entire extinction ? ^'17. Shall lettres de carhet be abolished or modified ? '' 18. Shall the liberty of the press be indefinite or modified ? " H. [Page 54.] The Storming of the Bastille. " All morning, since nine, there has been a cry everywhere : ' To the Bastille ! ' Repeated ' deputations of citizens ' have been here passionate for arms, whom de Launay has got dismissed by soft speeches through APPENDICES. 335 port-holes. Towards noon, Elector Thuriot cle la Rosiere gains admit- tance : finds de Launay indisposed for surrender — nay, disposed for blowinti; up the place rather. Thuriot mounts with him to the battle- ments : heaps of paving-stones, old iron and missiles lie piled : cannon all duly levelled ! in every ernln-asure a cannon, — only drawn back a little ! But outwards, behold, Thuriot, how the multitude flows on, welling through every street ; tocsin furiously pealing, all drums beating the [ime'nde : the suburb Saiiite-Antoine rolling hitherward wholly, as one man ! Such vision (spectral yet real) thou, O Thuriot, as from thy Mount of Vision, beholdest in this moment : prophetic of other phantas- magories, and loud-gibbering spectral realities which thou yet beholdest not, but shalt ! ' Que voulez-vous ? ' said de Launay, turning pale at the sight, with an air of reproach, almost of menace. ' Monsieur,' said Thuriot, rising into the moral-sublime, Svhat mean you? Con- sider if I could not precipitate hotJi of us from this height,' — say only a hundred feet, exclusive of the walled ditch ! Whereupon de Launay fell silent. " Wo to thee, de Launay, in such an hour, if thou canst not, taking some one firm decision, rule circumstances ! Soft speeches will not serve ; hard grape-shot is questionable ; but hovering between the two is vm-question- able. Ever wilder swells the tide of men ; their infinite hum waxing ever louder, into imprecations, perhaps into crackle of stray musketry — which latter, on walls nine feet thick, cannot do execution. The outer drawbridge has been l<.)wered for Thuriot; new ijrpiitatinn of (:iti::ciis (it is the third, and noisiest of all) penetrates that way into the outer court : soft speeches producing no clearance of these, de Launay gives fire ; pulls up his drawbridge. A slight sputter — which has kindled the too combustible chaos ; made it a roaring fire-chaos ! Bursts forth insurrection, at sight of its own blood (for there were deaths by that sputter of tire), int(.» endless rolling explosion of musketry, distraction, execration ; — and overhead, from the fortress, let one great gun, with its grape-shot, go booming, to show what we could do. The Bastille is besieged ! 'H)n, then, all Frenchmen that have hearts in their bodies! Roar with all yoTir throats rivy to the massacres of September, although Prudhk. — From the IJioyraphie Mudtrne. N. [Pf 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 acknow- ledged. Subsequently the spirit of party, feeling the danger of allo^ving any virtues to a constitutionalist, denied the services of Lafayette, and then commenced that long series of calumny to which he has ever since been exposed. 0. [Page 97.J The Mob at Versailles. " The mob crowded in the marble court, and wandering on the outside of the palace, began to express again their designs with frightful bowl- ings. ' To Paris ! to Paris I ' were the first cries. Their prey was promised them, and then fresh cries ordered the unfortunate family to appear on the balcony. The Queen showed herself, accompanied liy her children ; she was forced by threats to send them away. I mixed in the cr<:)wd, and beheld for the first time that unfortunate Princess ; she was dressed in white, her head was bare, and adorned Avith lieautiful fair locks. Motionless, and in a modest and noble attitude, she appeared to me like a victim on the block. The enraged populace were not moved at the sight of woe in all its majesty. Lnprecations increased, and the unfortu- nate Princess could not even find a support in the King, for his presence only augmented tlie fur}" of the multitude. At last preparations for departure did more towards appeasing them than promises could have done, and by twehe o'clock the frightful procession set oft". T hope such a scene will never be witnessed again! I have often asked myself how the metro})olis of ii nation so celebrated foi- urbanity and elegance of APPENDICES. 345 manners — how the brilhant cit}^ of Paris could contain the savai^e liorcles I that clay beheld, and who so long reigned over it ! In walking through the streets of Paris, it seems to me, the features even of the lowest and most miserable class of people do not present to the eye anythinii; like ferociousness, or the meanest passions in all their hideous energy. Can those passions alter the features so as to deprive them of all likeness to humanity:' Or does the terror inspired by the sight of ii guilty wretch give him the semblance of a wild beast P These madmen, dancing in the mire, and covered with mud, surrounded the King's coach. The groups that marched foremost carried on long pikes the bloody heads of the life- guardsmen butchered in the morning. Surely Satan himself hrst invented the placing of a human head at the end of a lance ! The dishgured 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 horrilile mockery of life, presented the most frightful spectacle that rage could ha\^e imagined. A troop of women, ugly as crime itself, swarming like insects, and wearing grenadiers' hairy caps, went continually to and fr*), howling barbarous songs, embracing and insulting the life-guards. This scene lasted for eight hours liefore the royal family arrived at the Place de Cireve. They alighted at the Hotel de Ville, their lirst resting-place during protracted misery, that terminated some years afterwards in it hoi'iil>le death. Thus ended the memorable 6th of October I " — Memoirs of Lavalette. P. [Page 98.] The Journey to Paris. " 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 two of the life-guards, formed the advanced guard, which had set off two hours earlier. These cannibals stopped for a moment at Suvres, and carried their ferocity to such a pitch as to force an unfortunate barber to dress the hair of those two bleeding heads. The main body of the Parisian army immediately followed. Before the King's carriage marched the poissardes, who had come the preceding evening from Paris, and that whole army of aban- doned women, the scum of their sex, still drunk with hny 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 witnessed. Others, nearer to the King's carriage, were singing alle- gorical airs, and l\y their gross gestures applying the insultini^r allusions in them to the Queen. Carts laden with corn and tlour, whicli had come to Versailles, formed a convoy escorted by grenadiers, and surrounded by women and market-porters armed with pikes, or carrying large poplar boughs. This part of the cortige produced at some distance the most singular effect: it looked like a moving wood, amidst which glistened pike-heads and gun-barrels. In the transports of their brutal joy the women stopped the passengers and yelled in their ears, while pointing to the royal carriage, ' Courage, my friends ; we shall have plenty of bread now that we have got the baker, the baker's wife, and the l)aker"s 346 APPENDICES. boy.' Behind his Majesty's carriage were some of his faithful guards, partly on foot, partly on horseback, most of them without hats, all disarmed, and exhausted with hunger and fatigue. The dragoons, the Flanders regiment, the Oent-Suisses, and the national guards, preceded, accompanied, and followed the file of carriages. "I was an eye-witness of this distressing spectacle, this melancholy procession. Amidst this tumult, this clamour, these songs interrupted by frequent discharges of musketry, which the hand of a monster or an awkward person might have rendered so fatal, I saw the Queen retain the most courageous tranquillity of mind, and air of inexpressible noble- ness and dignity : my eyes filled with tears of admiration and grief." — Bertrand de Mollevillc. [Page 98.] Lafayette's Account of the 5TH and 6th October 1789. The following is Lafayette's own account of this affair. It is derived from the numerous Memoirs of the General, lately published by his family : — '' The numerous and armed hordes who quitted Paris on the 5th of October, and who, united with the populace of Versailles, committed the disorders of that day, were totally distinct from the immense assemblage that, blockading themselves and us, made it diffi- cult for the news of that tumultuous departure for Versailles to reach the Hotel de Ville. I instantly perceived that, whatever might be the consequence of this double movement, the public safety required that I should take part in it, and after having received from the Hotel de Ville an order and two commissaries, I hastily provided for the security of Paris, and took the road to Versailles at the head of several bat- talions. When we approached the hall of the Assembly the troops renewed their oath. They only advanced after I had offered my respects to the president, and received orders fron^ the King, who, having heard speeches from the commissaries and me, desired me to occupy the posts of the former French guards ; and in truth, at that time the pretension of taking possession of the palace would have appeared a most singular one. Not only the gardes-du-corps on service, but the S^viss sentinels stationed in the garden, and four hundred gardes-du-corps on horseback on the side towards Trianon, were not dependent in the slightest degree on me, I did not undoubtedly carry terror into the palace ; I answered for my own troops ; the result proved that I was right in doing so. I was not sufficiently master of .-the minds of the courtiers to believe that their security depended solely on myself : for example, it was not I who sent to their own homes in Versailles the greatest number of the ofticers of the gardes-du-corps ; nor was it I who sent to Pambouillet, at two o'clock in the morning (instead of employing them in forming patrols), 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, wlio had this piece of intelhgence from M. de la Tour du 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 ascer- APPENDICES. 347 taiiied that the Hntel cles Gavdes-du-corps was defended by a l)attahon ; I ordered patrols in the town and round the palace. The entry into the King's chamber was refused me at two o'clock in the morning : I then repaired to the house of M. de Montmorin, in the minister's court, within j'each of my grenadiers. At break of da}^ all things appeared to me to wear a tranquil aspect ; I went to the H^Uel de Noailles, very near the palace, in which the staff received reports. I made some necessary arrangements for Paris ; 1 partook of some refreshments, and should have believed that exhausted nature required, after more than twenty hours' unremitting exertion, some repose, if a few minutes later a sudden alarm had not restored to me all my strength. " That infernal irruption was in truth most sudden, and perfectly distinct from the other tumults. Two gardes-du-corps were killed ; other brave and faithful guards stopped the brigands at the door of the apartment of the (^)ueen, who was conducted to the King by young- Victor Maubourg, one of their officers. The grenadiers of my advanced post had scarcely arranged themselves in order of battle when they received my command to hasten to the palace. A volunteer company also repaired thither very speedily, 1 flew at the same time to the spot, having sprung on the first horse I met with. I was fortunate enough, in the first instance, to liberate a group of gardes-du-corps, and having confided them to the charge of the few persons who accompanied me, I remained surrounded by a furious mob, one of whom cried out to the others to kill me. I commanded them to seize him, doubtless in a very authoritative voice, for they dragged him towards me, striking his head on the pavement. I found the apartments occupied with national guards. The King deigned never to forget the scene that ensued, when the grenadiers, with tears in their eyes, promised me to perish to the last man for him. During that time our guards were arriving ; the courts were lined with national guards, and filled with a, multitude in a high state of excitement. Those who heard me address the King were not dissatisfied with my expressions. " I had long been of opinion that the Assembly would be more quiet, and the King more secure, in Paris. J refused, however, being present at the deliberation (become necessary, 1 own), in which the departure was decided upon ; and as S(ion as the Queen had declared her noble determination of accompanying the King, I did, before thousands of witnesses, all that could be expected from the circumstances and my devotion. It was then that in the King's cabinet, while embraced by Madame Adelaide, I received from that respectable Princess testimonies of approbation that ill prepared me for the abuse from which I have since been obliged to vindicate myself. " The statements of the [)roceedings of the Chatelet have mingled together the assertions, opinions, reports, and even suppositions of men of all parties. Sucli absurd accusations are found there, as that Mirabeau 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 Lwked over some letters from officers and gardes-du-corps, found in the King's cabinet, written in 1790 and 1791. Some of them ad- dressed to a friend are evidently intended to effiice, at the expense of other persons, unfavourable expressions ; other letters contain inaccu- racies, contradictions, and insignificant phrases ; but all of them 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 instruc- 34^ APPENDICES. tions, it was to the Kin^, the ministers, and M. d'Estaiiig, and not to nie, that they thoiiii;ht proper to apply ; that I liad taken, and even redoubled, every precaution fur the Hotel des Gardes-du-corps ; that those iijuards, as well as the palace, were saved hy us ; and that a wounded guard of the King selected niy house in Paris as the place in which he would l>est be taken care of. These words, ' M. de Lafayette has saved us,' are continually repeated. Among the false assertions that have been ].)ropagated, I shall relate but one ; it was said that the heads of two unfortunate gardes-du-corps had l>ern carried before the carriage of the King. While we were only thinking of saving their comrades and the royal familj^, it is sufficiently horrible that bandits should have escaped with the infamous trophies of their crimes ; but they had arrived at the Palais Royal ; and public authority had succeeded in dispersing them before the King had even quitted Versailles." Career of M. de Lafayette. " Lafayette, born in Auvergne, of one of the most ancient families of that province, was employed, when still young, in the army that Louis XVI. sent to defend the independence of the English colonies of North America. Rochambeau placed him at the 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 of ideas of liberty. Being appointed by the noblesse of his province deputy to the States-general, he voted that the examination of the powers should take place in common. After the union of the three orders, he insisted, with Mirabeau, on the removal of the troops whom the Court was marching towards Paris. Being appointed vice-president, he presented his well- known declaration of rights. In July 1789. he was appointed com- mander of the Parisian national guard. A few days after the famous 5th of October, Lafayette, in a conference, very imperious on the one side, and very timid on the other, gave the Due d'Orleans to under- stand that his name was the pretext for all commotions, and that he must leave the kingdom. An apparent mission was given to this Prince, and he set out for England. In February 1790, Lafaj^ette, in the Assemblj'', solicited measures for repressing the disturbers of the pro- vinces, and indemnifying the proprietors of burnt houses ; these ex- cesses he attributed to the counter-revolutionarj^ spirit. He afterwards voted for the suppression of titles of honour and nobility, refusing even to admit of an exception in favour of the princes. At the Federa- tion in July he presented the national guards, who were collected froin every part of the kingdom, to the Assembly' and the King. At the time of Louis' flight he was accused by the Jacobins of lundng assisted in it, and by the royalists of having contrived the arrest <:»f his sin'e- reign. When the King's fate was delxited in the Asseml)ly, Lafayette was among those who objected to the motion for biinging him to trial and declaring him deposed. When the constitution was accepted, Lafayette voted for thu anuiesty demanded by the King, and resigned his olhce of commander of the guard, upon which the municipality ordered a gold medal to be struck in his honour. In 1792, Lafayette went to Metz, \Ahere he took the command <»f the central army. At first he encamped under the walls of (jivet, but his advanced guard, posted near Phili[)sburg, met with a slight check, upon which he re- APPENDICES. 349 moved to the entrenched camp at Maubeige, and placed his advanced guard at Grisiielles, under the command of Gouvion, where it was sur- prised and cut to pieces, and its leader killed by a cannon-ball. Shortly afterwards Lafayette's army received accounts of the attempt made on the 2oth of June, and in different addresses declared its disapprobation of the outrage offered on that day to Louis. Proud of such support, Lafayette went to Paris, and appeared at the loar of the Legislative -Body, where he complained of these outrages, and accused the Jacobins. For one moment the Assembly seemed intimidated by this step, but the faction soon took courage; and Lafaj^ette returned to his army, after having in vain urged Louis to leave Paris and come among his troops, who were then faithful. Soon after, commissions having been sent from Paris to insist on his removal from his command, he addressed his troops in a, proclamation, in which he called on them to choose between the constitution and Petion for a king. The whole army exclaimed, ' Long live the King ! ' ' Long live the constitution ! ' but Lafayette, placing little dependence on this burst of enthusiasm, lied with several officers of his staff'. He was then declared an emigrant. On his arrival at the Austrian advanced posts he was made a 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 dungeon ; but when Prussia made peace with France, he was restored to the Austrians, who sent hini to C>lmutz. 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 iSth Brumaire returned to France." — Bio the interest of the State that I should associate myself, in a more express and manifest manner, in the execution and success of all that yctu have planned for the benefit of France. I cannot seize a more signal occasion than that when you submit to my acceptance decrees destined to establisli a new organiza- tion in the kingdom, which must have so important and so propitious an influence on the happiness of my subjects, and on the prosperity of this empire. " You know, gentlemen, it is more than ten years ago that at a time when the wishes of the nation relative to provincial assemblies had not yet been expressed, I began to substitute that kind of administration for the one which ancient and long habit had sanctioned. Experience having taught me that I have not erred in the opinion which I had formed of the utility of these establishments, I strove to extend the same ])enefit to all the provinces of my kingdom ; and in order to ensure general confidence to the new administrations, I determined that the members who were to compose them should be freely elected by all the citizens. You have improved upon these views in several ways ; and the most essential, no doubt, is that equal and wisely calculated sub- division which by breaking down the ancient partitions between pro- vince and province, and establishing a general and complete system of equilibrium, more intimatel}'^ unites all the parts of the kingdom in one and the same spirit, and one and the same interest. This 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 ascendency over the general sentiments, to undertake witii confidence a change of such vast importance, and to vanc^uish 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 had 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 su1:)jects. The commendations 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 frequentl}^ made to it. Every- thing induces us therefore to believe that the King here speaks with perfect sincerity. He proceeds : — *' I 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 are too open to the dangers of all kinds by which we are encompassed, not to be deeply sensible that, in the present disposition of minds, and considering the actual state of public afiairs, 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. VOL. I. 23 3 54 APPENDICES. " Let well-disposed citizens reflect on this, as 1 have done, fixing their attention exclusively on tlie welfare uf the State, and they will perceive, even in spite of the difference of opinion, that a paramount interest must this da)^ unite them all. Time will remedy what may yet remain defective in the collection of the laws which shall have been the work of this Assembly." This indirect and delicate censure proves that the King had no in- tention to flatter, but to speak the truth, observing at the same time the necessary measure. " But every enterprise that should tend to shake the principles of the constitution itself, all concert tliat should aim at overthrowing them or diminishing their beneficial influence, would serve only to introduce among us the frightful evils of discord ; and siipposing 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 supplying any substitute. " Let us then confidently indulge the hopes we are justified in con- ceiving, and let us think of realizing them only by unanimity. Let it be known every^vdiere that the monarch and the representatives of the nation are united in the same interest and in the same wish ; in order that this opinion, this firm belief, may difl'use througli the provinces a spirit of peace and goodwill, and that all citizens distinguished for their honesty, all those wlio are capable of rendering the State essential service by their zeal and their talents, may be solicitous to take part in the diflerent subdivisions of the general administration, the unanimity of which must efficaciously concur in the re-establishment of order, and in the prosperity of the kingdom. " We must not disguise it from ourselves ; there is much to be done to reach that goal. A persevering determination, a general and common eflbrt, are absolutely necessary to obtain real success. Continue your labours, then, without any other passion than that of doing good ; keep your chief attention constantly fixed on the condition of the people and on the public liberty ; but direct it also to the means of soothing, of tranquillizing all jealousies, and put an end as speedily as possible to the diflerent alarms which keep so many of her citizens aloof from France, and the eflect 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 impatient to see also on every side happiness. " Some day, I fondly believe, every Frenchman without exception will acknowledge the benefit of the total suppression of the diflerences of (jrder and condition, when they have to labour in common for the public welfare, for the prosperity of the country, which equally interests all the citizens ; and every one must see without difficult}^, that in order to be called henceforward to serve the State in any manner, it will be sufficient for a man to have rendered himself remarkable by his talents and by his virtues. " At the same time, however, all that reminds a nation of the anti- quity and the continuity of the services of an honoured race is a distinc- tion that nothing can destroy ; and as it is united with the duties of gratitude, those who in all classes of society 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 recollec- tions, the fairest of all the inheritances that can be bequeathed to one's children. APPENDICES. 35 5 " 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 are under the safeguard of order and morality, all honest and enlightened citizens will have an equal interest in upholding and defending it. " No doubt those who have relinquished their 'pecuniary 'privileges, those who loill no longer form, as of old, an order in the State, find themselves subjected to sacrifices the importance of which I fidlij appreciate ; but I am persuaded that the'y will have generosit'y enough to seeh an indemnification m all the public advantages of which the establishment of National Assemblies holds out a hope" The King continues, as the reader perceives, to impress upon all parties the advantages of the new laws, and at the same time the neces- sity of retaining something of the ancient. What he says to the privileged classes proves his real opinion respecting the necessity and justice of the sacrifices that had been required of them, and their resistance will be everlastingly condemned by the words contained in this speech. It would be vain to urge that the King was not free ; the care which he here takes to balance the concessions, counsels, and even reproaches, proves that he spoke sincerely. He expressed himself very differently when some time afterwards he wished to give notoriety to the state of restraint in which he conceived himself to be. His letter to the am- bassadors, quoted hereafter, will sufficiently prove this. The thoroughly popular exaggeration which pervades it demonstrates the intention to appear to be no longer free. But the moderation of what he says here leaves no room for doubt, and what follows is so touching, so delicate, that it is impossible not to have been felt by him who had made up his mind to write and to deliver it : — ■ " I, too, should have losses to enumerate, if, amidst the most impor- tant interests of the State, I could dwell upon personal calculations ; but I find a compensation that satisfies me, a full and entire compensation 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 wish, in accordance with mine, has sanc- tioned. I ivill do more; and in concert ivith the Queen, who shares all my sentiments, I imll early adapt the mind and heart of my son to the new order of things which circumstances have brought about. I will accustom him from his very first years to seek happiness in the happiness of the French, and ever to acknowledge that in spite of the language of flatterers a wise con- stitution will preserve him from the dangers of inexperience, and that a just liberty adds a new value to the sentiments of affection and loyalty, of which the nation has for so many ages given such touching proofs to its kings. "I dare not doubt that in completing 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 faithful repre- sentatives of the nation, to ensure to the welfare of the State, and to the public liberty, that stability which can proceed only from an active and tutelary authority. You will surely bear in mind that without such an authority all the parts of your constitution will remain at once without bond and without correspondence : and in turning your atten- tion to liberty, which you love, and which I love also, you will not lose 3 56 A PPENDICE^. sii^dit of this tvutli, that disorder in administration, by producint^ a con- fusion of powers, frequently dese sentiments of kindness, confidence, and generosity which have gained it so much renown. "Set it also an example of that spirit of justice which serves as a safeguard to property, to that right respected by all nations, which is not the work of chance, which springs not from the privileges of opinion, but which is closely connected with the most essential relations of public order, and with the first conditions of social harmony. " By what fatality is it that when tranquillity began to be restored, fresh disturbances have spread over the provinces ! By what fatality is it that fresh outrages are there perpetrated ! Join with me in putting a stop to them, and let us exert all our efforts to prevent criminal excesses fr ita into interests, tliat jtcc-ple ichieh yains are taken to mislead; that good 'peo'ph ivhich is so d.ear to me, and by which I am assured that I am loved irhrn those around one vish to cheer me ■up under nnj trovhles. Ah ! if it but knew how unhappy I feel at the news of an attack upon property, or an act of violence against pei'sons, perhaps it would spare me this severe infliction. " 1 cannot address you on tho great interests of the State without urging you to bestow y(jur attention, in a serious and detinitive 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 can- not undertake everything at once; accordingly I invite you to reserve for other times part of the benefits which the assemblage of your talents })ictvn^es to your view; l)ut when you shall have added to what you have already accomplished, a wise and rational plan for the exercise of justice ; when you shall have firndy laid the foundations of a perfect equilibrium l)etween 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 pul)lic gratitude ; and in the successive continuation of tlie National Assemblies, a continuation founded henceforward on that very constitution, there will be nothing more to do than to add from 3'ear to year 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 Avishes, if my earnest exhortations can be ix signal of APPENDICES. 3 5 7 peace and of reconciliation between you. Let those ivho ivould dill keep aloof from a spirit of concord tliat is hecome so necessary^ make a sacrifice to me of all the recollections which afflict them; I will repay them with my grati- tude and my affection. ^' Profess all of you from this day forward, profess all of you — and I Avlll set the example — but one opinion, but one interest, but one will — attachment to the new constitution, and an ardent desire for the peace, the happiness, and the prosperity of France." V. [Pa[/e 1 1 3. J Thio Queen's Opinion op Mirabeau. Previously to this interview, the Queen, though she dreaded his power, held Mirabeau in the utmost detestation, as appears from the following anecdote which the Duchesse d'Abrantes has related in her Memoirs : — "On the 7th of May 1789 the Queen was informed of Mirabeau's hostile intentions. M. Necker was consulted about the expediency of entering into a negotiation with him ; and his opinion was, that Mirabeau was possessed of extraordinary talent, but wanted judgment ; and M. Necker considered him not very formidal)le. He therefore declined to have any- thing to do with the matter, and merely yielded to the Queen's wish to place at her disposal a sum of money to assist the execution of her de- signs. Furnished with his instructions and a well-stocked piu'se, the Comte de Reb — went one morning to Mirabeau, plied him with much art, and finally made him otters which he felt confident he would not hesitate to accept. But fate (Ordained that the man who had always been needy and tormented by creditors, should be at that moment well supplied with money. What was the result ? He rejected the Comte de Reb — 's ofier, and asked him for whom ho took him. He thus dismissed the Comte with all the dignity of an ancient Greek, telling him that ofiers of money could not be listened to by him. The Comte, though chagrined, did not lose hope. He knew Mirabeau well enough, and was sure he would not remain long in his present frame of mind. Shortly afterwards a certain M. Joule vet called on the Comte de Peb — , and announced to him that Mirabeau consented to place all his influence at the disposal of the Court, but recjuired an honourable treaty, and not a paltr}^ bargain ; that he did not wish to supersede M. Necker, but that any other department of the ministry would suit him. On these terms he would devote himself to the Court. The Comte, on hearing tliis, went to Mirabeau, was well received, and heard all the reasons he ga^■e for his readiness to sacrifice himself by entering the ministry at such a moment. The same day the Comte saw the individual who was to speak to the Queen; and he, on the first intelligence < »f the capitulation of Mirabeau — for he was really a tower of strength — ran immediately to acquaint her Majesty with the news. The Comte de Reb — followed, and when he entered the royal cabinet the Queen advanced towards him, her countenance beaming \^^th pleasure. ' The King will be gratified by your zeal. Monsieur,' said she to the plenipotentiary : ' well, had you a good bargain of this man ? How much has he cost ? ' Ho replied that Mirabeau, with true magnanimity. 1 5 8 APPENDICES. had rejected all propositions of a pecuniary nature. He then mentioned the appointment to the ministry. At this the Queen reddened, and then turned deadly pale. She closed her eyes, and striking her forehead with her hand, exclaimed, ' A minister ! Make Riquetti Mirabeau a minister ! Never, never will I allow the threshold of the King's council to be sullied by the footsteps of such a man ! ' She trembled with rage. * Let him have money — grant him all he asks for ; but to make him a minister ! Is it possible that my friends can give me this advice Y ' She then paced the room with every mark of agitation, repeating the words, 'A minister, forsooth ! a minister.' The negotiation was consequently broken oft' for a season ; for Mirabeau would not accept money, and the Queen would not till long afterwards consent to grant him an interview." w. \_Pa(jc 1 1 4. J The Marquis de Bouille. " The Marquis de Bouille was a gentleman of Auvergne, and a relative of Lafayette's. After having served in the dragoons, he became colonel of the regiment of Vexin infantry. Having attained the rank 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 Montserrat. On his return he was made lieu- tenant-general. In 1789 he brought back to its duty the revolted garrison of Metz. On the 5th of September in the same year, Gregoire com- plained 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 commissioned 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 ; but by false advices or ill-executed orders, this enterprise failed, and M. de Bouillc' had great difliculty 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 relative to the King's escape should be sent to the high court of the nation. From Vienna, whither he had first gone, BouilL' passed to the Court of Sweden, which gave him employment, and in the name of which he promised powerful assistance to the French princes. After the death of Gustavus III., M. de Bouille went to England, where he pul)lished S(jme valuable pai)ers on the Revolutit)n. He died in London, in 1803." — LiognqiJiic Modcrnc. APPEAWICES. 3 59 X. \_Pi^ifjie 1 1 6.] The Abbe Maury. "Jean Siftrein Maury, Prior of Lyons, Abbot of La Frenade, and King's preacher, was born at Vabreas, in the county of Avignon, on the 26th of June 1746, of a family engaged in commerce and in the law. He came very young to Paris, where his talent for preaching- gained him several benehces, and he acquired reputation and a seat in the Academy by his sermons and panegyrics previous to the Re- volution ; at which peri(id he employed all his eloquence in defence of the monarchy. It has been observed that 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-general, 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, but soon released by order of the Assembly, in which he again appeared. On the 13th of October the Abbe Maury spoke elo- quently in defence of the property of the clergy, which it was proposed to declare national. On the 9th of November he occasioned a tremen- dous commotion by accusing the president of exclusive partiality to the left side. On the 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 23rd 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 victorious attack on the motion for compelling the King 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 right side. On the 13th of May he discussed the great question concerning the admission of people of colour to the rights of citizens, which produced considerable effect on the Assembl}'-, and gained him the applause of all parties. Leaving France after the Assembly closed, Maury went to Rome, where the Pope conferred on hini 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 Assembly passed a decree of accusation against Maury ; but it is woi'thy of remark, that though one of the most zealous defenders of the monarchy and the clergy, he was never an object of per- sonal hatred to the popidace. ' At least he docs 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 remarkable. On one occasion when a Parisian 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 imagine you will see the better ? ' A general laugh followed this remark, and Maury was left unmolested. In 1793 ^^^ "^^^^^ appointed Archbishop of Nice, and next year he received the cardinal's hat. In the beginning of 1805, Maury addressed iofira/)hie MntJtrtJc. Talleyrand remained in the administration of foreign affairs up to the period of the disastrous Russian campaign, when he began to make secret overtures — at least so it is reported of him by Napoleon's bio- graphers—to the Bourbons. On the Emperor's downfall he held office for a time under Louis XVIII., and on the expulsion of Charles X. was appointed ambassador to England by Louis Philippe. He soon resigned this appointment, and lived in comparative retirement at his chateau until his death in 1838. [Px.fje 1 3 5. J The 14TH July 1790. " In spite of ph^tting aristocrats, lazy, hired spademen, and almost of destiny itself (for there has been much rain), the Champ de Mars on the 13th of the month is fairly ready. The morning comes — cold for it July one — but such a festivity W(tuld make Greenland smile. Through every inlet of that national amphitheatre (for it is a league in circuit, cut with openings at due intervals) floods in the living throng ; covers Avithout tumult space after space. Two hundred thousand patriotic men, 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-dj^ed life, spread up there on its thirty- seated slope; leaning, one would say, on the thick umbrage of those avenue trees, for the stems of them are hidden by the height ; and all beyond it mere greenness of sunnner earth, with the gleams of waters, or wliite 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 far on, over all the circling heights that embosom 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, ears shall serve ; and all Fiance properly is but one amphi- theatre, for in paved town and unpaved hamlet men walk listening, till the muflled thunder sounds audible on their horizon, that they too may ^66 APPENDICES. bej^in swearin;^^ and liiin^-. But now, to streams of music come federates enough — for they liave assem])led on the Boulevard St. Antoine, and come marching through the city, with their eightj^-three department banners and blessings not loud but deep ; comes National Assembly and takes seat under its canopy ; comes Royalty, and takes seat on a throne beside it. And Lafayette, on white charger, is here, and all the civic functionaries ; and the federates form dances till their strictly military evolutions and manurtesan is placed beside the modest matron, the Capuchin draws the truck with tlie chevalier of St. Louis, the porter with the 'pdit mnUre of the Palais Koyal, tlie sturdy fishwoman 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, comedians, Ccnf-Saissrs^ clerks, working and resting, actors and spectators, exhibited to the astonished eye a scene full of life and bustle; moving taverns, portable shops, increased the cliarm and gaiety of this vast and exhila- rating picture ; songs, sliouts of joy, the sound of drums and military instruments, that of spades and wlieelban-ows, the \'oices of the labourers calling to and encouraging one another. . . The mind felt sinking under the weight of a delicious intoxication at the sight of a whole people who had 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 his ac(|uaintance. The bands marched ott" to the sound of drums, returned to Paris, preceded by torches, indulging from time to time in sallies against the aristocrats, and singing the celel)rated air, Qa ira. *^ At length tlie 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 august character of a festival at once national and religious, a character almost incompatible 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 of music, 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 Peine to a bridge of boats constructed across the river. They were greeted by the way with the acclamations of an immense concourse which filled the streets, the windows of the houses, and the quays. The heavy rain which was falling neither deranged nor slackened the march. Dripping with wet and perspiration, the federalists danced farandoles, shouting ' 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 veterans and that of the young pupils of the country — an expressive image, which 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 ^'rt ira. The Quai de Chaillot and 368 APPENDICES. the heights of Passy presented a long amphitheatre, where the elegant dresses, the charms, the graces of the women enchanted the eye, without allowing it the faculty of dwelling upon any portion of the scene in preference. The rain continued to fall ; nohody seemed to perceive it : French gaiety triumphed both over the bad weather, the bad roads, and the length of the march. " M. 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 nubody 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 glass.' R;iising his bottle, he filled a largo glass, and handed it to M. de Lafayette. The general took the glass, eyed the stranger for a moment, and drank oft' the wine at n 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 shall never feel any uneasiness, so long as 1 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 Mars, sitting on 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 chatting, 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 fanauloli'^ ; those who followed joined them, forming u. round which soon embraced part of the Champ de Mais. A sight worthy of the philosophic observer was that exhibited by this host of men, who 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 present, all fear of the future, indulging in a delicious thoughtlessness ; and three hundred thousand spectators, of all ages, of both sexes, following their motions, beating time with their hands, forgetting the rain, hunger, and the weariness of long waiting. At length, the whole procession having entered the Champ de Mars, the dance ceased ; each federalist repaired to his banner. The Bishop of Autun prepared to perform mass at an altar in the antique style, erected in the centre of the Champ de Mars. Three hundred priests, in white surphces, girt with broad tric(tloured scarfs, ranged themselves at the four corners of tlie altar. The Bishop of Autun blessed the orifammr. and the eighty-three banners ; he struck up the Te JJeum. Twelve hundi'ed musicians played that hymn. Lafayette, at the head of the staff of the Parisian militia, and of the deputies of the army and navy, went up to the altar, and swore in the name of the troops and the federalists to be faithful to the nation, tt) the law, and to the King. A discharge of four pieces of cannon proclaimed to France this solemn oath. The twelve hundred musicians rent the air with military tunes ; the coLmrs, the l)anners waved ; the drawn sabres glistened. The president of the National Assembly repeated the same oath. The people and the deputies answered with shouts of / siceur it. The King then rose, and in a loud voice said, * /, Kind of the French., s^oi'nr to employ ths 'poivcr (IrlrijiUcd to vie by the constitutional act of the Stale in maintaiiiivr/ the constitution deer ceil hi) the National Assembly and accepted by me.^ The APPENDICES. 369 Queen, taking the Dauphin in her arms, held him up to the people, and said, ^ Here is my son ; he joiwi as v:dl as inijself in those sentiments.'' This unexpected movement was repaid by a thousand shouts of ' Vice Ic Bui ! Vive la Reine ! Vive M. le Dauphin ! ' The cannon continued to mingle their majestic voices with the warlike sounds of military instruments and the acclamations of the people. The weather had cleared up ; the sun burst forth in all his splendour ; it seemed as if it had pleased God Himself to witness this mutual contract, and to ratify it by His presence. .... Yes, He did both see and hear it, and the terrible calamities which ever since that day have not ceased to desolate France — O Providence, ever active and ever faithful! — are the just punishment of perjury. Thou hast stricken both the monarch and the subject who violated their oath ! " The enthusiasm and the festivities were not confined to the day of the Federation. During the stay of the federalists at Paris there was one continued series of entertainments, of dances, and of rejoicings. People again went to the Champ de Mars, where they drank, sang, and danced. M. de Lafayette reviewed part of the national guard of the departments, and the army of the line. The King, the Queen, and the Dauphin were present at this review. They were greeted with acclama- tions. The Queen, with a gracious look, gave the federalists her hand to kiss, and showed them the Dauphin. The federalists, before they quitted the capital, went to pay their homage to the King ; all of them testified the most profound respect, the warmest attachment. The chief of the Bretons dropped on his knee and presented his sword to Louis XVI. ' Sire,' said he, ' I deliver to you, pure and sacred, the sword of the faithful Bretons ; it shall never be stained but with the 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 his sword. ' I have never doubted their affection and their fidelity. Assure them that I am the father, the brother, the friend of all the French.' The King, dee})ly moved, pressed the hand of the chief of the Bretons, 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 you, because you are a citizen King.' "■ The municipality of Paris resolved also to give an entertainment to the federalists. There was a regatta on the river, fireworks, illumina- tion, ball and refreshments in the Halle au Ble, and a ball on the site of the Bastille. At the entrance of the enclosure was an inscription, in large letters, Ici l'on danse {Daneing here). Happy assemblage, which formed a striking contrast "with the antique image of horror and despair called forth by the recollection of that odious prison ! The people went to and from one of these places to the other without impediment. The police, by prohibiting the circulation of carriages, prevented the accidents so common in public festivities, as well as the tumultuous noise of horses and wheels, and shouts of Gare ! (Take care) — a noise which wearies and stuns the citizens, makes them every moment afraid of being run over, and gives to the most splendid and best regulated fete the appearance of a flight. Public festivities are essentially for the people. It is they alone who ought to be considered. If the rich are de- sirous of sharing their pleasures, let them put themselves on a level with the people for that day ; by so doing they will gain sensations to which they are strangers, and will not disturb the joy of their fellow-citizens. VOL. I. 24 ^ 370 AFPENDICES. " It was in the Champs Ely sees that persons of feehng enjoyed more satisfactorily this charminj^ popular festival. Columns of lights hung from every tree, and festoons of lamps connected them together ; pyramids of fire, placed at intervals, diffused a pure light, which the enormous mass of surrounding darkness rendered still more brilliant by its contrast. The people covered the alleys and the greensward. The citizen, seated with his wife amidst his children, ate, chatted, walked about, and enjoyed himself. Here young lads and lasses danced to the sound of several bands 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 interest, strove to climb up tall masts rubbed with soap, to gain a prize reserved for him who should reach and bring down a tricoloured flag fastened to the summit. You should have seen the bursts of laughter which greeted those who were forced to relinquish the attempt, and the encourage- ments given to those who, more lucky or more adroit, appeared likely to reach the top. A soothing sentimental joy, diffused over every face, beaming in every eye, reminded you of the peaceful pleasures of the happy shades in the Elysian fields of the ancients. The white dresses of a multitude of females strolling under the trees of those beautiful alleys served to heighten the illusion." — Ferrieres, tome ii. p. 89. EE. [rurjc 139.] The Value of Assignats. M. de Talleyrand had predicted 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 greatest justice, and explained the reasons of its speedy inferiority. " Will the National Assembly," said he, " order an issue of two thousand millions of money in assignats ? People judge of this second issue by the success of the first ; l)ut 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 currency 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 men have to respect or to infringe it. " The assignats will undoubtedly have characters of security which no paper-money ever had ; none was ever created upon so valuable a pledge, clothed with so solid a, security ; that I am far from denying. The assignat, considered as a title of credit, has a positive and material value ; this value of the assignat is precisely the same as that of the land which it represents ; but still it must be admitted, above all, that never will any national paper be upon a par with the metals ; 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 distrust around it, APPENDICES. 371 " Why will assic(nat-money be always below specie ? In the first place, because there will always be doubts of the exact application of its proportions between the mass of the assignats and that of the national property ; because there will long be uncertainty respecting the consummation 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 ; because money being put in competition with paper, both become a marketable commodity ; and the more abundant any commodity is, the lower must be its price ; because with money one will always be able to do without assignats, whilst it is impossible with assignats to do without nKmey, and fortunately the absolute want of money will keep some specie in circulation, for it would be the greatest of all evils to be absolutely destitute of it." Farther on the speaker added : " To create an assignat currency is not assuredly representing a metallic commodity, it is merely repre- senting a metallic currency ; now a metal that is merely money, what- ever idea may be attached to it, cannot represent that which is at the same time money and merchandise. Assignat-rnoney, however safe, however solid it may be, is therefore an abstraction of paper-money ; it is consequently the free or forced sign, not of wealth, but merely of credit. It thence follows that to give to paper the functions of money by making it like other money, the medium between all exchangeable objects, is changing the quantity recognized as unity, otherwise called in this matter the mint standard ; it is operating in a moment what centuries scarcely operate in a 8tate 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 nnist be the result from this alteration in the common measure ? " After showing what the new money was, M. de Talleyrand predicted with singular precisinn 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 em- ploy them for other acquisitions. If he pui'chases land, then your object will be fulfilled : I shall applaud with you the creation of assignats, because they will n(3t 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 distrust- ful creditor prefers losing the interest by keeping an inactive title ; if he converts assignats into metals for the purpose of hoarding them, or into bills on foreigners to carry them abroad ; if these latter classes are much more numerous than tlie 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 persons who are obliged to take them at par, and who, owing notliing, 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 pass- ing 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 specie, that is to say, without raising the price of their commodities in proportion to the loss upon the assig- nats ; how sorely then will this ingenious operation have disappointed 372 APPENDICES, the patriotism of those whose sagacity has devised, and whose integrity defends it ! and to what inconsolable 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 fore- bodings might be opposed one of those answers which one never dare give at the moment, but which would be peremptory, and which become so in the sequel — the necessity of replenishing the exchec^uer and of dividing property. FF. [Page 140.] The Comte de Montmorin. " Armand Marc Comte de Montmorin St. Herem, minister of finance and secretary of State, was one of the Assembly of Notables held at Versailles, and had the administration of foreign atiairs 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 Sep- tember 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 unrestrained, and sincerely 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 Montmorin soon after this tendered his resignation ; yet though withdrawn from public life, he continued near the King, and together with Bertrand de Molleville, Malouet, and a few others, formed a kind of privy council, which suggested and prepared various plans for strengthening 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 one of the first victims who fell in the massacres of September." — Bioriniphie Muderne. " The unfortunate M. de Montmorin had taken refuge, on the loth of August, at the house of a washerwoman in the Faubourg 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 neighbours. They soon suspected her of harbouring an aristocrat. This conjecture spread among the populace of the faubourg, 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 him- self, and a bottle of laudanum having been found in his pocket, formed, said his enemies, a strong presumption that he was conscious of some crime. After being detained two days in the committee, he was sent a prisoner to the Abbaye, and a few days afterwards was murdered in a manner too shocking to mention, and his mangled body carried in triumph to the National Assembly." — Private Memoirs of Bertrand do Molleville, APPENDICES, 373 GCt, [Page 145.] The Priests and the Oath to the New Constitution. Ferrieres, an eye-witness of the intrigues of that period, mentions those which were employed to prevent the oath of the priests. This page appears to me too characteristic not to be quoted : — " The bishops and the Revokitionists intrigued, and were extremely busy, the one to cause the oath to be taken, the other to prevent it. Both parties were sensible of the influence which the line of conduct pursued by the ecclesiastics of the Assembly would have in the pro- vinces. The bishops visited their curc-s ; devotees of both sexes set themselves in motion. Nothing was talked of in every company but the oath of the clergj^. One would have supposed that the destiny of France and the fate of every Frenchman depended on its being taken or not taken. Men the most free in their religious 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. '* The Journal fie Fonteney, UAmi tin Roi^ and La Gazette (Ic Duro- soir employed their usual Aveapons — exaggeration, falsehood, calumny. Numberless tracts were distributed, in which the civil constitution of the clergy was treated as schismatic, heretical, and destructive of reli- gion. The devotees hawked about pamphlets from house to house ; they entreated, conjured, threatened, according to particular dispositions and characters. To some they represented the clergy triumphant, the Assembly dissolved, the prevaricating ecclesiastics stripped of 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 rise ; the foreign powers would enter France, and that structure of iniquity and villainy would crumble to pieces upon its own foundations." — Ferrieres, tome ii. p. 198. HH. [Page 147. J The Royalist Legions. M. Fromont 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 lo5^al 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 le Comte d'Artois, begging his royal highness to 374 APPENDICES. grant me the commission of colonel-commandant, worded in such a manner that every royalist who, like myself, should raise a sufficient number of good citizens to form a legion, might have reason to flatter himself that he should obtain the like favour. Monsieur le Comte 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 militarj^ commission, that one of them angrily said to me, ' Why did you not ask for a bishopric P ' The only answer I gave to the (pestioner 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 deliberation were of opinion that these new corps ought to be called civic legions {Ic'iions bonrcicoues). I remarked to them, that under this denomination they would merely suppl}^ 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 were 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 mth empty words they had armed the people against the depositaries of the public authority ; that it would therefore be more politic to follow their example, and to give to these new corps the denomination of rcnjal militia; that . . . * No, no, sir,' said the Bishop of Arras, suddenly interrupting me, ' the word hourijcois must be inserted in your commission ; ' and the Baron de Flaschlanden, who drew it up, inserted the word bourgeois accordingly." -—Uecucil dc divers Ecrits relatifs a la Revolution, p. 62. II. [Pauis XVI., Danton was made minister of justice, and usurped the appointments of ofhcers in the army and departments. He thus raised up a great number of creatures wholly devoted to his views. Money flowed from all sides into his hands, and was profusely squandered 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 the enemy, and prevented the removal of the Assembly beyond the Loire. From this time forward he was hated by Robespierre, wlio could never pardon the superiority which Danton had shown on this occasion. On the occasion of the Festival of Peason, in which the Hebertists acted a conspicuous part, Danton declared himself against the attack on the ministers of religion, and subsequently united with Robespierre to bring Hebert and his partisans to the scaftbld. But their connection was not of long duration, Danton wished to oveithrow the despotism of Robespierre, who in his tin-n was anxious to get rid of a dangerous rival. Danton was accordingly denounced to the committee of safety by St. Just, and imprisoned with his adherents in the Luxembourg. When he was transferred thence to the Conciergerie he appeared deeply mortified at having been duped by Robespierre. On his trial he said composedly, ' I am Danton, sufficiently well known in the Revolution ; I shall soon pass to nothingness ; but my name will live in the Pantheon of history.' He was condemned to death by the revolutionary tribunal as an accomplice in a conspiracy for the restoration of monarchy, and his large propert)'' was confiscated. He mounted the car with courage ; his head was elevated ; his look commanding and full of pride. On ascending the scaftbld he was for it moment softened. 'Oh, my wife, my dear wife, shall I never see you again 't ' he said, but checked himself hastily, and exclaimed, ' Covn-age, Danton ! no weakness.' He was thirty-five years old at the time of his death." — Encijdopcrdia Ariiericant(. "During the short period that elapsed before his execution, Danton's mind, in a distracted state, reverted to the innocence of his earlier years. He spoke incessantly about trees, flowers, and the country. Then giving way to unavailing 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 be- come the scourge of humanity.' When his sentence was read to him in his cell, ' We are sacrificed,' said Danton, ' to a few dastardly brigands ; but I drag Robespierre after me in my fall.'" — .l/iso». " Danton had sold himself to the Court, on condition that they would purchase from him, for 100,000 livres, his place of advocate, which after the suppression was only worth 10,000 livres. 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. While he was making incendiary motions in the Jacobins, he was their spy at Court, where he regularly reported whatever occurred. On the Friday previous to the 3/8 APPENDICES. loth 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 Ville, and endeavouring to justify himself, said, ' General, I am a greater monarchist than you are your- self.' He was nevertheless one of the leaders of the loth of August." — Lafayette's Mem oirs. *' Danton was sometimes denominated the Mirabeau, sometimes the x4.1cibiades of the rabble. He may be said to have resembled both (with the differences only of the patrician order and the populace) — in his tem- pestuous passions, popular eloquence, dissipation, and debts, like the one ; his ambition, his daring and inventive genius, like the other. He exerted his faculties, and indulged his voluptuary indolence alternately, and by starts. His conceptions were isolated, but complete in them- selves, 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 cruelty, as from a careless prodigality of blood. He viewed the Revolu- tion as a great game in which men played for their lives. He took those he won as freely as he would have paid those he lost." — British and Foreign Review. [Page I s^.] Reception of the News op the Flight of the Royal Family. " A group in the Palais Royal were discussing in great alarm the consequences of the King's flight, when a man, dressed in a threadbare greatcoat, leaped on a chair, and addressed them thus : ' Citizens, listen to a tale which shall not be a long one, A certain well-meaning Neapolitan was once on a time startled in his evening walk by the astounding intelligence 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, had 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 recognized at once to be the motion of the wooden instrument which makes macaroni. " 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 macaroni. 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 — Tlure ■was once a King and a Queen.' " — Scott's Life of Napoleon. APPENDICES. 379 00. [Pa(j(; 163.J Baknave. " Ant. Pierre Jos. Marie Barnave was a barrister, and deputy to the States-general. The son of a very rich attorney of Grenoble, he warmly espoused the revolutionary party, and was named by the titrs-(-'7nf deputy of that town to the States-2:eneral. He there showed himself from the beginnincr one of the most implacaljle enemies of the Court. He warmly supported the tennis-court oath, and declared loudly in favour of the assertion of the lii^hts of man. In 1790 he voted the abolition of reli- ii;ious orders. At the meetini^; of the 2:nd of May he was one of those who were decidedly (.)f opinion that the Kini( should be deprived of the ri<^ht of makini^ war and peace, and opposed ]Miral:>eau on many i^reat questions of policy. At the sittin;^; of the 19th <»f 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 Vicomte de Noailles ; he had tired 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 Asseml)ly. 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 popularit}'. In giving an account of his mission, he spoke about the inviolability of the King's person, for which he was hooted by the Assembly. 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 loth of August 1792, certain documents having established the 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 as- tonished that a young man sliould speak so long, so rapidly, and so eloquently, and said of Barnave, 'It is a young tree, which, however, will mount high if it be let to grow.'" — hionraphic iUo(.krne. [Page 163.] The Eeturn from Varexnes. The following particulars of the return from Varennes were com- municated to Madame Campan by the Queen herself : — " On the very day of my arrival the Queen took me into her cabinet, to tell me that she had great need of my assistance for a correspondence 38o APPENDICES. which she had estabhshed with MM. Barnave, Duport, and Alexandre Lameth. She informed me that M. de J * * * was her agent with these rehcs of the constitutional party, who had good intentions, but unfortunately too late ; and she added that Barnave was a man worthy to inspire esteem. I was surprised to hear the name of Barnave uttered with such kindness. When I had quitted Paris 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 this young man, full of intelligence and noble senti- ments, was of the class who are distinguished by education, and merely misled by the ambition arising from mere merit. ' A feeling of pride, which I cannot blame too much in a young man of the tiers-'^'lat/ said the Queen with reference to Barnave, ' has caused him to applaud all that tends to smo(.)th 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 Queen added 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 persons of an inferior order, among whom were to be found the most splendid talents ; lastly, that the nobles, born to be the rampart of the monarchy, were too culpable in having betrayed its cause to deserve pardon. The Queen astonished me more and more by the warmth with which she justified the favourable opinion that she had formed of Barnave. She then told me that his conduct during the journey had been excellent, whilst the republican rudeness of Petion 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 saying a word to signify that he had had enough ; that this offensive tone was wilfully assumed, since he was it man of educati(3n ; and that Barnave had been shocked at it. Being pressed by the Queen to take something : * Madam,' 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 ho said, had won not only her goodwill, 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 neces- sity of giving to the executive power a force requisite for its action for the welfare of the constitutional act itself, since France could not be a republic. . . . ' Not yet, 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 rcjUing the fair hair of the interesting boy upon his lingers ; and in tlie warmth of talking he pulled his locks with such force as to make him cry. . . . ' Gi\^e me my child,' said the Queen ; * he is accustomed to kindness, to respect, which unht him for such familiarities.' " The Chevalier de Dampierre had been killed near the King's carriage as it left Varennes. A poor village curr, 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 surrounded the carriage rushed upon him, ' Tigers,' cried Barnave, APPENDICES. 381 ' have you ceased to be French ? From a nation of brave men, are you changed into a nation of murderers ? ' Nothint,^ but these words saved the cure, who was ah'eady struck to the ground, from certain death. Barnave, as he uttered them, had ahnost thrown himself out at the door, and Madame Ehzabeth, 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 appearecl to her a most surprising thing. That deputy had experienced a diflerent 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 admira- tion. 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 Revolution, and said that he had found the interests of the Court so feebly, so injudiciously defended, that he had 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 any? ' 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 matter for comment ; my task is merely to record this curious conver- sation." — Me'moires de Madame de Ca'nijJan, tome ii. p. 150 ct scq. QQ- [Page 163. J Return of the Royal Family to Paris. *' 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 for 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, presented himself at the King's apartment, and said to him, ' Has your Majesty any orders to give me ?' 'It appears to me,' replied the King, wath 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 dis- pleasure. The Queen, however, betrayed some irritabihty, and wished 382 APPENDICES. to force Lafayette to receive the keys of the desks which had remained in the carriage. He rephed that no person thout^ht or would think of openinLC those desks. The Queen then phiced the keys on his hat. Lafayette requested her to pardon the trouble he gave her of taking back those keys, and declared that he would not touch them. ' Well/ said the Queen impatiently, ' I shall find persons less scrupulous than you are.' " — Lafayette's Memoirs. EE. [Page 165. J The King's Motive for Flight. Here is the answer itself, the composition of Barnave, and a model of reasoning, address, and dignity : — *' I see, gentlemen," said Louis XVI. to the commissioners, " I see by the object of the mission which is given to you, that here is no ques- tion 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 offered to my family and myself on the iSth of April that were the cause of my departure from Paris. Several publications have endeavoured to provoke acts of violence against my person and against my family. I deemed that there would not be safety, nor 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, either with foreign powers, or with my relatives, or with any 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 fortified, 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 shdwn to attempt any. One of the principal motives for quitting Paris was to set at rest the argument of my non-free- dom, which was likely to furnish occasion for disturbances. If I had harboured an intention of leaving the kingdom, I should not have published my memorial on the very day of my departure : I should have waited till I was l)eyond the frontiers. But I always entertained the wish to return to Paris. It is in this sense that the last sentence in my memorial must be taken, where it is said, ' Frenchmen, and above all, Parisians, what pleasure shall I feel in finding myself again in your midst ! ' . . I had in my carriage but three thousand louis in gold, and fifty-six thousand livres in assignats. I did not warn Monsieur of my departure till a very short time before. Monsieur has gone into another country only because he had agreed with me that we should not both take the same route : he was to come back into France to me. The passport was requisite to facilitate my journey: it purported to be for a foreign country merely because the oflice for foreign aftairs 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 APPENDICES. 383 circumstance that, as the decrees had not been laid before me ni masse ^ I could not judge of the constitution as a whole. The 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 judge fully of this public opinion in Paris ; but from the observations whicli I have personally made during my journey, I am convinced how necessary it is for the support of the constitution to give strength 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 all the crosses that I have experienced if I can but ensure the peace and the felicity of the nation." ss. [Page 167.] DUMOURIEZ. " Dumouriez was born at Cambray, and was descended from a Provencal family engaged in the law. He was forty-seven years of age at the commencement of the Revolution. Up to that time he had lived amidst intrigues, in which he was but too fond of engaging. The first part of his political life was spent in discovering those by whose help he might rise; and the second, in discovering those who were able to support his elevation. A courtier before 1789, a consti- tutionalist under the first Assembly, a Clirondin 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. He was, besides, frank, ingenious, clever, bold, equally fitted for the council and the field; 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 several defects. Dumouriez was rasli, thoughtless, and ex- tremely capricious, in consequence of his continual thirst for action. But his great fault was want of all political principle." — Mvjiitt. TT. [Page 16S.] Thomas Paine. '' 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 early life he followed his father's business, and afterwards became a grocer and exciseman at 384 APPENDICES. Lewes, but was dismissed for keepiiijo; a tobacconist's shop, which was incompatible with his duties. In 1774 ^^ went to America, and became editor of the Pennsijlntnia Ma(jarture the Jaci>bins became menacing, and the constitutionalists moderate. Tliey were then, and they still are, much more numerous than the Jacol)ins. They talked of accom- modation, of a deputation 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, h(.)Wever, having been manifested, they found themselves from that very circumstance separated more than ever from the furious. The return of Barnave, the respect which he had paid to the King and Queen, while the ferocious Petion insulted their misfortunes, and the gratitude which their Majesties testified to Barnave, 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 therefore ralHed round VOL. T. 25 3 86 APPENDICES. him four-fifths of the left side, not only to save the King from the fury of the Jacobins, but to restoie to him part of his authority, and to furnish him 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, noliody 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 conceived that they might rely upon it when in revising their constitution they should give greater latitude to the roj'al authority. " Such was the state of things when I wrote to ^''ou. But convinced as I was of the awkwardness of the aristocrats and their continual blunders, I was not awai-e 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 his remonstrances were useless : they persisted in their resolution, and secretly drew up a protest against all that was doing. Malouet declared that he would continue 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 thirty-five or forty members of the right side, and that he much feared that this false step of the most zealous 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 prevailed in the hall and in the galleries. Almost all the deputies, even on the left side, looked confounded during the reading of that fatal decree, but no one spoke. The president was going to put it to the vote, when Malouet abruptly rose, and with indignant look, exclaimed, ' What are you about, gentlemen P After apprehending the King, it is proposed that you should constitute him prisoner by decree. Whither will this step lead you P Have you considered that J" Would you order the King to be imprisoned ':' ' ^ No ! no ! ' cried several members of the left side, rising tumultuously ; ' we mean not that the King should be a prisoner ; ' and the decree was on the point of l)eing rejected almost unanimously, when Thouret hastily added, ' The last speaker has not justly compre- hended 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 imprison- ment 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 aristo- crats more than ever. Malouet 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 were afraid of losing their APPENDICES. 387 popularity. Tavj^et and Duport opposed his arguments, and defended their work. Next day he met Chapeher and Barnave, who at first disdainfully refused to answer his provocations, and at length agreed to the plan of attack, all the risks of which 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, gentlemen,' said he, ' answer me. (Jverwhelm me unanimously with your indig- nation. Defend yowv 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 Assembly 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 upliolding the monarchy, and for returning in time to give all the support that is necessary for it.' This was accordingly agreed upon : but the protest of the right side having become known, and its perseverance in not voting having deprived the constitutionalists of all hope of succeeding in their plan of revision, which the Jacobins opposed with all their might, they gave it up. Malouet, who had no regular C(nnmunications with them, nevertheless made his attack. He solennily rejected the con- stitutional act as anti-monarchical, and as impractical )le of execution in several points. The development of his motives had begun to pro- duce a considerable impression, 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 acknow- ledged that he was in the wrong ; but he said that he 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. They are gloomy now : the evil is extreme ; and to repair it, I perceive, either within or without, but one remedy, which is the union of force with reason." — Memoires de Bouille, p. 2S8 et .■pose the faithful Catholics having one general cemeter}'-, or if the relatives of deceased persons manifest too strong a repugnance to their being interred in a separate place, though specially consecrated, as it is said in Article 19 of the Instructions, after the legitimate pastor or one of his representatives shall have said at the h()use the prayers prescribed liy the ritual, and shall have drawn up the certificate of death, which shall Ije signed by the relatives, the body of the deceased may lie 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 lifted up, that they may not participate in the ceremonies and prayers of the schismatic priests. 7. In the acts, when the displaced cures are denied their title of cure, they shall sign those acts with their Christian and family name without losing any (quality. I iDBg you, Sir, and such of your colleagues to whom you may think it right to communicate 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 remarkal)le circumstances, of the dispositions of your parishioners on this head, of the means which you think it right to adopt for the service of j^our parish, and of your residence, if you are absolutely obliged to leave it. You cannot doubt that all these particulars will deepl)^ interest us : your griefs are ours, and our m^ de hi s(((jrsse. (nuns of wisdom). Devoted in this department and in several others to attendance on the poor, particularly in tho hospitals, they are a very active medium of general correspondence 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 circumstances 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 understanding 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 inalediction upon themselves and their children ; that things will be so arranged that the validity of the marriages performed by the late cures 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 nevertheless be so ; that, on the contrary, the children of those who shall have been married by the intruders w^ill be really bastards, because God "v^dll 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 deceased 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 clifterent acts ; that in fact it is impossible for the civil tribunals to pay any attention to this point, but that is a misfortune to which people must submit ; that the civil legistration is a great advantage, which must nevertheless be dis- pensed with, because it is l)etter 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 to take no part in his intrusion ; it is declared that the municipal officers who shall instal him will be apostates like him- self, and that the very sextons, singers, and bellringers ought that very moment to resign their places. Such, gentlemen, is the absurd and pernicious doctrine which is contained in those manuscripts, and of which the public voice accuses the missionaries of St. Laurent of having been the most zealous pro- pagators. They were denounced at the time to the committee of research of the National Assembl}', and the silence observed in regard to them haa APPENVIOES. 399 served only to increase the activit}^ <>f their ettVuts, and to extend their baneful inlluence. AVe have deemed it indispensably necessary to \Ay before you an abridged analysis of the principles contained in these writings, as displayed in an arrJt'' of thy department of Maine and Loire, of the 5th June 1 79 1, because it is sufficient to compare them with the circular letter of thy grand-vicar of the late Bishop of Lucijn to be convinced that they l)elong to a general sj^stem of opposition to the decrees on the civil organization of the clergy, and that the present state of the majority of the parishes of this department exhibits only the development of this system, and the principles (tf this doctrine, set almost eveiywhere in action. The too tardy removal of the cures has greatly contributed to the success of this coalition : this delay has been occasioned, in the first place, by the refusal of M. Ser\'aiit, who, after having been ajipointed to the bishopric of the department, and accepted that office, declared, on the loth of April, that he M'ithdrew his acceptance. M. Rodrigue, the present bishop of the department — whose moderation and firmness are almost his sole support in a chair surrounded by storms and embarrassments — M. Rodrigue could not be nominated till the 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 activitj^ ; the grand- vicars and the cures 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 sal)side, and all interests had been blended into one general interest. The removal could only be in part eftected : 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 alone. This division of sworn and nonjuring priests has formed an absolute division between the people of their parishes : families, too, are divided : wives have been seen, and are daily seen, paiting from their husbands, children leaving their parents: the state of citizens is in most cases certified onl}'' upon loose pieces of paper, and the individual who receives them, not being clothed with any pul^lic character, cannot give any legal authenticity to this kind (.)f proof. The municipalities have disorganized themselves, and the greater number of them that ihaj might not concui- in the removal of non- juring cures. A great portion of the citizens has renounced the service in the national guard, and that which remains could not be employed Avithout 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 adn\inistrator, a judge, a, member of the electoral body, are objects of aversion to the people, because they concur in the execution of the law relative to the eccle- siastical functionaries. This disposition of mind is the more deplorable, as the means of public instruction are daily becoming more difficult. The general laws 400 ArPENBICm. of the State are confounded by tlie people with the particular regu- lations 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 obtuin 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 officiate are deserted, and that people throng to those where, for want of candidates, the removals have not yet been carried into effect. Nothing is more common than to see in parishes of five or six hundred persons ten or twelve only attending mass said by the sworn priest ; the proportion is the same in all the places of the department. On Sundays and holidays may be seen whole villages and hamlets whose inhabitants leave their homes to go to the distance of a league, and sometimes ten leagues, to hear mass said by a non- juring priest. These habitual desertions have appeared to us the most powerful cause of the ferment, sometimes secret, at others open, which exists in almost all the parishes served by priests who have taken the oath ; it is easy to conceive that a multitude of persons who consider themselves obliged by their conscience to go to a dis- tance to obtain the spiritual succours which they need, must see with aversion, when they return home exhausted with fatigue, the five or six 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 disc<:)rd in which we have found the greater numljer of the parishes of the department served by priests who have taken the oath. Several of them have presented to us, as well as to the adminis- trative bodies, petitions 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 con- ceived at the time, considering the state of this department, to in- volve 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 means of execution, the exercise of the APPENDICES. 40 1 liberty of religious opinions ought on this point, and in the pre- sent 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 chui'ch where the new cur^ officiates, 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, apparently so extraordinary, it is of importance to recollect that one of the things which have been most strf the State was not the civil constitution of the clergy; that the law did not tyrannize over con- sciences ; that ever}'' 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 ecpial in the sight of the law, and that on this point it imposed on them no other ol)ligation than to live in peace, and to bear mutually with the ditierence of each other's religious opinions. We have done all in our jiower to banish this absurd denomination from the minds and from the language of the country people, and we have endeavoured to do so the moie assiduously, Itecause it was easy for us to calculate at that period all the consequences of such a demarcation in a department where these pretended aristocmfs form more than two-thirds of the population. Such, gentlemen, is the result of the facts that ha\'e come to our know- ledge in the department 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 we established means of order and security, we took pains to explain or to elucidate, before the administrative bodies, the tribunals, or individuals, the difficulties incident either to the right understanding of the decrees or to their mode of execution ; we exhorted the administrative bodies and the tribunals to redouble their vigilance and zeal in the execution of the laws which protect the safety of persons and property— to use, VOL. I. --0 40 2 APPENDICES. in short, with firmness, the authority which the law has conferred on them ; we distributed part of the pubhc force which was at our disposal in places where the danger was described to us as being more serious or more imminent ; we repaired to every place on the first tidings of disturbance ; we ascertained the state of things with more calmness and reliection ; and after having, either by the language of peace and consolation, or by 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 suflicient. It is to you, gentlemen, and to you alone, that it belongs to take truly eflicacious measures 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 con- stitution than 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 we have been seconded in the most active manner by a general ofiicer well known for his patriotism and his intelligence. No sooner was M. Dumouriez apprized of our arrival in the department than he came to associate himself with us in our labours, and to concur with us in the maintenance of the public 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 8th of August, which, on the application of the administrators of the depart- ment of the Deux-Sevres, 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 same state of religious agitation as the department of La Vendee. 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 Deux-Si'vres respecting disturbances which, as they alleged, existed in difterent parishes ; they declared that an insurrec- tion 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 proposed, was to compel all the cinx'S who had not taken the oath, and been superseded, and all vicars Avho had not taken the oath, to quit the district within three days. The directory, after having long hesitated to adopt a measure which appeared to it to be contrary to the principles of strict justice, conceived at length that the public character of the com[)lainants was suflicient to prove both the reality of the evil and the urgent necessity of the remedy. A resolution {arrets) was in consequence passed on the 5tli of September, and the directory ordered all ecclesiastics to quit the district in three days, but at the same time invited tliem to repair within the same term to Niort, the chief town of the department, assuriiifi them that they should there find 'Itrotection and safety for their jJO'sons. The resolution was already printed and about to be carried into execution, when the directory received a despatch containing the APPENDICES. 403 decree of commission which it had solicited. It immediately passed a fresh resolution, by which it suspended the execution of the first, and left to our prudence the faculty of confirming, modifying, or suppressing. Two administrators of the directory were by the same resolution appointed commissioners to communicate to us what had passed, to repair to Chatillon, and there take in concert with us all the measures that we should deem necessary. On our arrival at Chatillon we caused the fifty-six municipalities of which that district is compiu- grapliie Moderne, YYY. [Page 241.] Declaration of M. Lareynie. Among the depositions contained in the proceedings instituted against the authors of the 20th of June is one that is extremely curious, on account of the particulars which it furnishes — I mean that of Lareynie. It comprehends almost everything that is repeated by the other wit- nesses, 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, Quai 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 instigators of all manoeuvres against the public tranquillity and the integrity of the French constitution, has declared that for a week past he has known, from acquaintance that he has in the Faubourg St. Antoine, that the citizens of that faubourg were worked up by the Sieur Santerre, commandant of the battalion of the Enfans-Trouves, and by other persons, among whom were the Sieur Fournier, calling himself an American, and elector, in 1791, of the department of Paris ; the Sieur Rotondo, who calls himself an Italian ; the Sieur Legendre, butcher, living in the Rue des Boucheries, Faubourg St. Germain ; the Sieur Cuirette Verrieres, living over the cotiee-house of Rendez-Vous, Rue du Theatre-Fran^ais ; who held by night secret meetings at the Sieur Santerre's, and sometimes in the committee-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 faubourg, 426 APPENDICES, such as the Sieiir Rossi^jnol, lately a journeyman goldsmith ; the Sieur Nicolas, sapper of the said battalion of the Enfans-Trouv6s ; the Sieur Brierre, wine merchant ; the Sieur Gonor, who calls himself the con- queror 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. Antoine ; that there were drawn up the incendiary placards posted from time to time in the faubourgs, 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 Santerre's, which began almost at midnight, and at which witnesses, whom he can bring forward when they have returned from the errand on which they have been sent by the Sieur Santerre to the neighbouring country, declare they saw present MM. Petion, mayor of Paris ; Robespierre ; Manuel, solicitor of the commune ; Alexandre, commandant of the battalion of St. Michel ; and Sillery, ex-deputy of the National Assembly. That on the 20th, the Sieur Santerre, seeing that several of his people, and especially the leaders of his party, deterred by the resolution (arrete) of the directorj?^ of the department, refused to go down armed, alleging that they should be tired upon, assured them that they had nothing to fear, that the national (jnard would not Jiare any orders, arul that M. Petion. 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 together by curiosity, and that it was not till the Sieur Santerre, leaving his house, and putting himself at the head of a detachment of invalids, had arrived at the Place, and by the way excited the spectators to join him, that the multitude increased considerably till his arrival at the passage of the Feuillans ; 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 palace of the Tuileries, to be planted ; that then he, this deponent, asked several persons in the train of the said Sieur Santerre why the May was not planted on the terrace of the palace, as had been agreed upon, and that these persons replied that they should take good care not to do any such thing ; that it was a snare into ivhich the Feuillantins meant to lead them^ because there were guns ijlaced in the garden ; hut that they should not run into the traj}. The deponent observed that at 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, filed ofi" quietly, three deep, before the Legislative Body ; that he, deponent, remarked that these people in passing into the Tuileries were guilty of no misdemeanour, and did not attempt to enter the palace ; that even when assembled at the Place du Carrousel, where they arrived after going round by the Quai du Louvre, they mani- fested no intention of penetrating into the courts till the arrival of the Sieur Santerre, who was at the National Assembly, and did not leave it before the sitting was over. That then the Sieur Santerre, accom- panied by several persons, among whom he, deponent, remarked the Sieur Hurugue, addressed the mob, which was at that time very quiet, and asked ivlty they had not entered the palace; that they must go in, and that this was what they had eome for. That immediately he ordered the gunners of his battalion to follow him with one piece of cannon, and APPENDICES. 427 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 j)alace, 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 he opened, adding, that nohoJy had a right to clos^ them, hut every citizen had a right to enter ; that the gates were accordingly opened by the national guard, and that 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 the King's apartments if he found them fastened, and to fire upon the national guard in case it should oppose his incursion, was stopped in his progress in the last court on the left, at the foot of the staircase of the Pavilion, by a group of citizens, 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, yo^i are the sole cause of this unconstitutional assemhlage, yon alone have misled these good people, and you are 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, ' Gentlemen, draio up a report of my refusal to march at your head into the King's apartments;' that the mob, accustomed to guess the Sieur Santerre's meaning by way of answer, fell upon the group of honest citizens, entered with its cannon and its commandant, the Sieur Santerre, and penetrated into the apartments by all the passages, after having broken in pieces the doors and windows." zzz. [Page 275.] Precautions against Poisoning. On the subject of the apprehensions of the royal family, Madame Campan relates as follows : — "The police of M. de Laporte, intendant of the 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 lately taken upon him the duties of an office 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 benefit 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 liis Majesty ; but a subtile poison may be so easily introduced into articles of food that it was decided that the King and Queen should eat nothing but what was roasted ; that their bread should 428 APPENDICES. be supplied by M. Thierry, of Ville d'Avray, intendant of the jwtits apparti'inens, and that he should also furnish the wine. The King was fond of pastry ; I was directed to order some, as if for myself, some- times of one pastrycook, sometimes of another. The grated sugar was likewise kept in my room. The King, the Queen, and Madame Elizabeth dined together without any attendants. Each of them had a dumb-waiter of mahogany, and a bell to ring when they wanted any- thing. M. Thierry himself brought me the bread 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 dangerous than mortifying to show this apprehension of attempts against his i)erson, and this distrust 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 bo directed as much against the throne as against the person of the sovereign." — Memoires de Madame Gamjjan, tome ii. p. i88. Lafayette's Plan for the Flight of the Poyal Family. " The plan of flight was as follows : — The King, accompanied by La- fayette, was to have gone to the National Assembly at mid-day, and announced his intention of spending some days at Compiegne. 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 per- fectly sure. The ofiicers of this chosen body were to ofler 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 King, sheltered from all violence, and in a situation of his own choice, would, of his own accord, liave 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 personal friends left nothing untried to inspire him with confi- dence 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 APrENDICES. 429 absolute royalty, save in anarchy and foreign invasion. Lafayette was thanked for his plan, which was rejected ; and when his aide-de-camp, Colombe, afterwards asked the Queen by what strange infatiiation she and the King had come to so fatal a decision, ' We are very grateful to your general,' was her reply, ' Ijut 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 oftering the only chance of safety that remained to the royal family, memorials full of asperity were, by the Queen's orders, composed against him ; and that a part of the libels daily dev'oted to his defamation were paid for out of the civil hstS''^ L<(f((yelte\i Mcinuir.'^. AAAA. [Pcifje 276.] Letters of Lally-Tollendal and Lafayette. 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 XVI., and adduced proofs in confirmation. Among thyse documents were the following letters, which afford an insight into the plans and the efibrts of the constitutionalists at this period : — Co2\y of a Letter from M. de Lally-Tollendal 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 T2th, and which cannot now be carried into execution on that day, on account of the promise given by his Majesty to attend the ceremony of the 14th. His Majesty must have seen the plan sent by M. Lafayette, for M. Duport was to carry it to M. Montciel, that he might show it to his Majesty. M. Lafayette means to be here on the 1 5th ; he will have with him old General Luckner. They have just had a meeting; both have promised, and both have one and the same feehng and one and the same design. They propose 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 Compiegne. 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 Compiegne 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 430 AV FEN BICES. li(irse artillery. Two forced marches may bring this whole division to Compic'gne. If, contrary to all probability, his Majesty should be prevented from leaving the city, the 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 liberty ; 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, etc. I execute my commission without presuming to add either advice or reflection. My imagination is too full of the rage which will seize all those perverse heads at the loss of 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 me 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 22nd of March in the second year. At this period I wished him to be what he is at this day ; I wrote to him that his duty, his honour, his interest, 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 connection 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 letters ; 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 APFENDICES. 431 it on the morning for acting ; he is afraid of indiscretion if it should l)c! 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 vaiKjuished by his heroic courage a whole host of assassins ; b}' him who the day after that unexampled ti'iumph himself dictated a proclamation as sublime 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 1 4th ; not by the counsels which obtained the sanction of the decree respecting 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 diflerent 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 lihertii of the King, and the destruction of tlie fudions, is compre- hended his aim in all the sincerity of his heart. What is to follow will follow. (.'opij of a [jctter from Lifayettc. 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 proposal been accepted, I should have brought in two daj^s to Compic'gne fifteen squadrons and eight pieces of cannon, the rest of the army being placed in rchelons, at the distance of one march ; and any I'ogiment which would not have taken the first step would have come 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 capital if the safety of the King had reqviired it, and he had issued orders to that effect ; and I have five squadrons of that army at my absolute disposal, Languedoc and ; the com- mandant of the horse artillery is also exclusively devoted to me. I reckoned that these would also march to Compicgne. The King has given a promise to attend the federal festival. I am sorry that my plan has not been adopted ; ])ut the most must be made of that which has been preferred. The steps which I have taken, the adhesion of many departments and communes, that of M. Luckner, 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 reflection for the factious; and I hope that the physical dangers of the 14th of July are greatly diminished. I think myself that they are nothing if the King is accompanied 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 'f We shall lose the first battle ; it is im- possible to doubt that. The recoil will be felt in the capital. I will go 43 2 APPENDICES. 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 oft" the King to the South ; and this idea, which is now revolting, will appear simple when the leagued kings are approaching. I see, therefore, a series of dangers commencing im- mediately 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 ? I am impressed with the necessity of seeing the King at Compiegne. 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 13th and 14th may furnish offensive chances, at any rate the defensive shall be ensured by your presence ; and who knows what may be the eft'ect of mine upon the national guard ? 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 disposi- tion 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 com- parison 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 / ahsolutely require the minister at war to send for me, and that this first part of my proposal be adopted ; and I beg you to communi- cate it through mutual friends to the King, to his family, and to his council. 2. As for my second proposition, 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 nth or the morning of the 12th. The King should there say, Hhat 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 Compiegne ; 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 constitution, and a general officer who cannot leave any doubt on that head." Agreeably to this letter, Luckner and I will appoint M to the command of this expedition ; he shall take with him four pieces of horse artillery ; eight, if preferred ; but the King ought not to allude to this subject, loecause the odium of cannon ought to fall upon us. On the 15th, at ten in the morning, the King should go to the Assembly, ac- companied by Luckner and myself ; and whether we had a battalion, or APPENDICES. 43 3 whether we had but fifty horse, consistincr of men devoted to the Kin^, 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 Kin<< should have returned, his situation would not be worse, for he would not have transgressed the constitution ; he would have 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 com- promized 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 boi'row, 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 immediately. 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 be stopped at setting out. M^e 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 eflbrts have no influ- ence ; 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 I have no means of being serviceable. Reiyly of Louis XVI. to Lafayette. The following is the answer of Louis XVI. to the letter of Lafayette. [_In the handwriting of tlie 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 once, and whatever he may say of it, the failure of this plan would plunge all into a worse state than ever, and reduce it more and more under tlie sway of the factions. Fontaine- bleau 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 use- ful ; it might, besides, have for its motive to see the 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 performance of his duty as a general. He will thereby secure more and more the confidence of his army, and be enabled to employ it as he pleases in case of emergency. VOL. I. -^O 434 APPENDICES. BBBB. [Page 281.] The ioth of August 1792. Particulars of the Events of the joth of Augud. — These particulars are extracted from a paper inserted in the Annales Politiques, signed Carra, and entitled, Historical Sketch of tJie Origin and real Authors of the cele- brated Insurrection, of the loth of August, winch has saved the Eepublic. The author asserts that the mayor had no hand whatever in the success, but that he happened to be in place, on this occasion, like 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 ; 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 insurrec- tion ; it is due, in short, to the guardian genius M^hich has constantly governed the destinies of France ever since the first meeting of its representatives. *' 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. Honord. It was out of the forty-three members, who daily assembled since the commencement of July in that room, that five were selected for the insurrectional directory. These five members were Vaugeois, grand-vicar of the Bishop of Blois ; Debesse, of the department of La Drome ; Guillaume, professor at Caen ; Simon, journalist of Strasburg ; and Galisot, of Langres. I was added to these five members at the very moment of the formation of the directory ; and a few days afterwards, Fournier the American ; Westermann ; Kienlin, of Strasburg ; Santerre ; Alexandre, commandant of the Fau- bourg St. Marceau ; Antoine, of Metz, the ex-constituent ; 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 Thursday 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 countr5\ It was to this public- house, the Soleil 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 oj the Soccreign People against the Rebellion of tlie Krccvtive Power. It was also to the same house that I took five hundred copies of a posting-bill containing these words : Those loho fire on the columns of the people shall instantly be piU to death. This bill, printed in the office of Buisson, the pubhsher, had been carried to Santerre's, whither I went at midniglit to fetch it. Our plan failed this time through the prudence of the mayor, who pro- APPENDICES. 43 5 bably 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 Desmoulins. It was held at the Oadran 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 Assumption, 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 get 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 of this plan, and we sent it to Santerre and Alexandre about midnight ; but a second time our scheme miscarried, because Alexandre and Santerre were not yet suffi- ciently prepared, and several wished to wait for the discussion fixed for the loth of August on the suspension of the King. "At length, the third active meeting of this directory was held in the night between the 9th and 10th of August last, at the moment when the tocsin rang, and in three different places at the same time ; namely, Fournier the xA.merican, with some others, at the Faubourg St. Marceau ; Westermann, Santerre, and two others, at the Faubourg St. Antoine ; Garin, journalist of Strasburg, and myself, in the barracks of the Marseillais, and in the very chamber of the commandant, where we were seen by the whole battalion. "In this sketch, which contains nothing but what is strictly true, and the minutest details of which I defy any person whatever to contra- dict, it is seen that nothing is said of Marat or 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 loth are the persons whom I have named, and who formed the secret directory of the federalists." cccc. [Page 281.] F. Chabot. " F. Chabot, a Capuchin, born in the department of Aveyron, eagerly profited by the opportunity of breaking his vows, which the decrees of the Constituent Assembly oftered him. In 1792 he was appointed deputy of Loire et Cher to the Legislature. In the same year he went so far 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 faubouro-, to hasten the insurrection of the people, and the destruction 436 APPENDICES. of the monarch. Chabot was one of the chief instigators of the events of the loth of August, and voted afterwards for the death of the King. He was condemned to death by Robespierre as a partisan of the Dantonist faction. When he knew what his fate was to be, he poisoned himself with corrosive sublimate of mercury ; but the dreadful pain he suflered having extorted shrieks from him, he was conveyed to the inj&rmary, and his life prolonged till April 1794, when he was guillotined, Chabot died with firmness at the age of thirty-five." — Biogrcqjhie Modern e. DDDD. [Page 285.J ROBKSPIERRE. " 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 undeviating, passionless, pitiless fixedness of purpose, which seems more than human. He is a proof what mediocre talents sufiice to make a tyrant. His views were ordi- nary — his thoughts were low — his oratory was wretched. But he was a man of a single ruling idea, and of indefatigable 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 sect, 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, impenetrable reserve, singleness of purpose, and apa- thetic cruelty ; and accordingly he resolved to efi'ect his vast scheme of reform by immolating a whole generation. Robespierre was severe, frugal and insensible to the pomps, vanities, seductions, and allure- ments which corrupt or influence the great mass of the world." — British and Foreign Review. EEEE. [Page 286.] Brissot. 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 overrated both by friends and enemies. In other times, before he became a republican, he had made the whole r<'gime a subject of eulogy. It seems pretty well proved that a few days before the loth of August APPENDICES, 437 he and some agitators of his party had been intriguing with the valets- de-chambre 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 Abbii Duvernet, then member of the society of Jacobins, that the person he was going to accuse was the man of all others whom he esteemed and revered the most. Even while continuing to calumniate Lafayette, he testified in private for him the same esteem to various persons — Lord Lauderdale, among others — a witness whose evidence will hardly be refused, and who often spoke of it in London." — Lafayette'^ Memoirs. FFFF. [Page 291.] Character of Louis XVI. " The errors of Louis XVI. may truly be said to have originated in ci 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 self-confidence which impose on the multitude, who are ever prone to believe that he who commands with firmness and an air of authority possesses the means of enforcing obedience. But I will venture to say, that the very faults above enumerated did not belong to his natural character, but were engrafted on it by the selfish indolence of M. de Maurepas," — Private Memoirs of Bertrand dc MolkviUe. " Louis XVI. was the grandson of Louis XV., and the second son of the Dauphin by his second wife, Marie Josephine, daughter of Frederick Augustus, King of Poland and Elector of Saxony. Louis was born in 1754, and in 1770 married Marie Antoinette of Austria. With the best intentions, but utterly inexperienced in government, he ascended the throne in 1774, when he was hardly twent}'' years of age. In his countenance, which was not destitute of dignity, were delineated the prominent features of his character — integrity', indecision, and weak- ness. He was somewhat stifi" 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 endowed with a most retentive memory. He translated some parts of Gi])bon's History. It was the fault of this unfortunate 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 confusion; and he was guillotined in 1793, in the thirty-ninth year of his age. He was buried in the Magdalen church- yard, Paris, between the graves of those who were cruslied to death in the crowd at the Louvre, on the anniversary of his marriage in 1774, and of the Swiss who fell on the loth of August 1792." — Encj/eloprcdia Americana. "The Revolution was an inheritance bequeathed to Louis by his ancestors. He was more fitted than any of those who preceded him to 43 8 APPENDICES. prevent or terminate it ; for he was capable of being a reformer before it broke out, or of being a, constitutional monarch after it. He is perhaps the only prince who, destitute of passions, had not even that of poAver. With a little more strength of mind Louis would have been a model of a king." — Mijiiet. [Page 293.J Copy of the Letter •written to Citizen Boze, by Guadet, Vergniaud, and Gensonne. 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 public 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 the clubs, the manoeuvres 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 consequences of which it will perhaps be no longer possible to calculate ; this is placing the cause of the disorder in its symptoms. If the people were easy respecting the success of a Revolution so dearly bought, if the public liberty were no longer in danger, if the conduct of the King excited no distrust, opinions would find their level of themselves ; the great mass of the citizens would only think of enjoying the benefits ensured to them by the constitu- tion : and if in this state of things factions should still exist, they would cease to be dangerous — thej^ 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 shall 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 States, States that have been constituted for ages, revolutions have no other principle ; and with us the eflect 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 separated from those of the nation : the first public functionary of a free nation is made a party-leader, and APPENDICES. 439 by this horrible policy the odium of all the evils that afflict France is thrown upon him. Ah ! what can bo the success of the f(jreign powers, even though, by means of their intervention, the authority of the King should be en- larged, and a new f<»rm given to the government ! Is it not evident that those who have entertained the idea of this congress have sacri- ficed to their prejudices, to their private interest, the very interest of the monarch ; that the success of these manceuvres would impart a char- acter of usurpation to powers which the nation alone delegates, and which nothing but its confidence can uphold 'f Why have they not per- ceived 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 separate those of the King so long as he does not separate them himself, avo think that the only way of preventing the evils with which the empire is threatened, and to restore tranquilhty, 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 pro- testations ; they W(.)uld be derisory, and in the present circumstances they would assume a character of irony, which, so far from dispelling alarm, would only increase the danger. There is onl}^ one from which any eftect could be expected, namely, it 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. On 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 suffice to re-establish confidence, if the King were to prevail on the coalesced powers to acknowledge the independence of the French nation, t() 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 con- vinced 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 our- selves that confidence can revive. If the eftbrts 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 dis- trust originate in unfortunate circumstances, which it is impossible to change. . To make a crime of these when the danger is real and cannot be mis- taken, is the readiest way to increase suspicion : to complain of exag- geration, to attack the clubs, to inveigh against agitators, when the 440 APPENDICES. 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 means that are employed to calm it. Whilst 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 ii 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 un- happy circumstances be not embittered 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 ? 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 increase the distrust, and to excite the people to commotions, could he pursue a more likely course to foment them ? The selection of ministers has been at all times one of the most important prerogatives of the power with which the King is in- vested ; 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 what 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 could 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 prospect of erasing impressions too deeply engraven to be removed at the instant to the very slightest vestige. 2. At a moment when all the means of defence ought to be employed, when France cannot arm 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-Pvoyal, 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 ffuard is not sanctioned. These numerous refusals of sanction to legislative measures which pubhc opinion earnestly demands, and the urgency of whicli 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 com- mand of the army from M. Lafayette. It is at least evident that he cannot usefully serve the public cause there any longer. Wo shall conclude this slight sketch with a general observation : it is this, that whatever can remove suspicion and revive confidence cannot APPENDICES. 44 1 and ought not to be neglected. The constitution is saved if the King takes this resolution with couracre, and if he persists in it with nrmness. We are, «&c. HHHH. IP age 303.] Meeting in the Garden of M. de Montmorin. The following paper is one of those quoted by M. de Lally-Tollendal in his letter to the King of Prussia : — Copy of the Minute of a Sitting held on the ^t// of August 1792, in the handivriting