^..r -"TV im^Tf ' '" SAN DlEOOi ^^''Z.1.^. CAUFoiu^ ''^5 1 ^ / UNlV£KSiTY C '^ •JrC?.M;A, SAN DlEGd 4A JOLLA. CAUFQRNIA r r.y.„,,y/y./^yi.,.. A.fullan„r.A HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION, BY M. ADO LP HE THIERS, MEMBER OF THE ACADEMIE FRANCAISE, AND LATE MINISTER- OF- WAR IN FRANCE. TRANSLATED FROM THE TWELFTH PARIS EDITION, BY THOMAS W. REDHEAD, ESQ. WITH AN INTRODUCTORY SKETCH OF THE HISTORY OF FRANCE TO THE ACCESSION OF LOUIS XVI FROM THE FRENCH OF M. FELIX BODIN. A. FULLARTON AND CO., STEAD'S PLACE, LEITII WALK, EDINBURGH; AND 73 NEWGATE STREET, LONDON. 1859. PRELIMINARY NOTICE OF M. THIERS AND HIS WORK. The great French Revolution is an event that still absorbs the attention of mankind, and will doubtless to a remote posterity continue to do so. The extraordinary circumstances that marked its origin and progress, the crimes and virtues of which it was the occasion, the vicissitudes of fortune, national and personal, attendant upon it, and, above all, the influence it has exercised upon civilization and the world at large, render it an object of profound interest to every class of readers. It is not surprising, therefore, that since its commencement in 1789 up to the pre- sent time, no subject has attracted the notice of so many writers, both in France itself and in the other countries of Europe. Of these, as is na- tural from the proximity of the era, there is not one with any pretensions to impartiality. Each views the revolution as a whole, and in its mul- tifarious incidents, through one prevailing me- dium. He is a partisan of royalty, aristocracy, or democracy, and, under the pressure of political bias, misrepresents, if not distorts, facts, charac- ters, and motives. Hence there is none entitled to rank as a truthful historian of the epoch. This is a subject of regret, but not of wonder, for all contemporaneous annals must be more or less imbued with the passions of the times. Undoubtedly he who has treated the topic freest from individual theories or prepossessions, is the author of the following work. His is a clear and sparkling narrative, where the event- ful tale is told, without tedious dissertations to distract and weary attention, or obtrusive reflec- tions to influence judgment and uphold some pertinacious dogma. On sweeps the story with all its prominent features, shifting from scene to scene with ease and rapidity, introducing char- acter after character as they emerge upon the stage ; detailing occurrences with remarkable vivacity and precision, and unfolding with sin- gular'ticumen the springs of action and the dis- tinguishing peculiarities of individuals. But no philosophy, properly so called ; and without any intention of disparaging that school of historians known as the philosophical in France at the pre- sent day, of which it would be impossible to speak too highly, it maybe aflSrmed that of such an event as the French revolution, so recent in date, and so disputed in its various phenomena, the record is most commendable which nearest assimilates to a chronicle : not a bare outline of facts, but a circumstantial and animated narra- tion, illustrated by those living portraits which convey so lively a perception of the spirit of an age, of its men and deeds. Such emphatically is the history of M. Thiers, and to this recom- mendation doubtless is owing its extraordinary popularity. Not only in France, but throughout the continent, it is regarded as the great stand- ard work upon the subject. In France numer- ous editions of it have been exhausted, and the pirates of Brussels have reaped a rich harvest of unrighteous gain from its republication. In this country it is comparatively less known, although a translation of it appeared some time ago, of the merits or demerits whereof it would be in- vidious to speak. The object of the present translation is to diffuse the work more generally through these islands, for the great moral and pohtical lessons taught by an intimate know- ledge of the French revolution are of inestimable value to every order of a community such as the British, And this knowledge will be more im- pressively conveyed coming from a French source, since that can be liable to none of those suspi- cions as to unfairness or exaggeration which have attached to compilations of home manu- facture. Before adverting further to the qualities and advantages of the work, however, it will be ad- visable to introduce the author himself, by a short sketch of his life. M. Thiers, then, al- though prime-minister of France in the 39th year of his age, is of such obscure parentage that it is yet a matter of dispute what occupation his father followed. It is at least certain that he was born in the city of I\Iarseilles on or about the IGth April, 1797, and, according to the most credible authorities, in the dwelling of an honest locksmith there, whose offspring he was. His mother was of better family, being of an old commercial stock, which had fallen, nevertheless, PRELIMINARY NOTICE OF M. THIERS AND HIS WORK. into extreme poverty. Through the influence of her relatives, however, the boy, at a tender age, obtained a bursary in the Imperial Lyceum at Marseilles, and there received all his early education. In the year 1815 he was removed to Aix to enter upon the study of the law. Here he met a fellow-student of the same lowly origin as himself, with whom he formed a friendship that has continued through life unbroken, to the signal advantage of both parties. This was M. Mignet, also celebrated as the author of an ad- mirable analysis of the French revolution. After undergoing the usual course of academic attend- ance, the young Thiers was called to the bar and began the practice of his profession at Aix. In this provincial sphere, unaided by friends or for- tune, he met with very slender encouragement ; so strapping on a knapsack, he, in company with his friend Mignet, set out one morning to court fortune in Paris. The two wayfarers entered that great metropolis full of aspiring hopes, but for the present indifferently supplied with any extrinsic means of realizing them. The first months of their residence gave but little token of a brilliant future, if we trust a writer who thus describes their modest domicile : — " It is now several years ago since I climbed, for the first time, the innumerable steps of a gloomy building, situated at the bottom of the obscure and uncleanly alley de Montesquieu, in one of the most densely populated and noisy quarters of Paris. It was with a lively feeling of interest that I opened, on the fourth floor, the begrimed panels leading into a small chamber which is worth the trouble of describing : — a low chest of drawers, a deal bed, curtains of white calico, two chairs, and a little black ricketty table, com- posed the whole garniture." * The manner in which M. Thiers raised himself from this situation of obscurity and poverty ex- hibits his energy and powers in a striking light. It was at the commencement of the year 1823, when the repressive administration of Villele was in full vigour. Manuel, the great orator, had just been violently expelled from the Chamber of Deputies, and was, of course, the popular idol of the moment. M. Thiers saw that to him, an ambitious plebeian, the event might prove auspi- cious. He went straightway to Manuel, himself a native of the south, and a man of frankness and feeling, who, appreciating the value of the services offered him, forthwith presented Thiers to M. Lafitte, and obtained his admission amongst the contributors to the Constitittionnel, then the predominant engine of the press. This opening he lost no time in turning to account. Eminently endowed with a capacity for literary warfare, he soon became distinguished for the vigour and hardihood of his articles ; and as in France the occupation of a journalist is regard- ed with an estimation proportioned to its in- • M. Loeve-Veimar ; England." Statesmen of France and fluence over society, the young contributor speedily found himself the object of high con- sideration. He passed into the most brilliant circles of the opposition, into the crowded saloons of Lafitte, Casimir-Perier, the Count de Flahault, Baron Louis, the great financier of the era, and even of M. de TaUyrand, who, albeit fastidious in his company, is stated to have detected, with his keen glance, the capabilities of the briefless advocate. This introduction to society was made avail- able by M. Thiers to facilitate the undertaking upon which he had already entered. He had now opportunities of meeting many of the actors in the great drama of the revolution, remnants of the various Assemblies constituted during its progi-ess, statesmen, generals, diplomatists, and financiers, with whom he cultivated a sedulous intercourse. Endowed with a happy talent of rapid composition, he found time to supply the exigencies of the daily press, and to be a constant frequenter of drawing-rooms, where, storing up the results of conversations with men who had actually taken part in events he was preparing to narrate, he applied them in study and con- templation to improve and embellish the work upon which he was engaged. At length his " History of the French Revolution" made its appearance, and at once placed its author in the highest ranks of literary celebrity. The rapid progress of this work in public esteem, and the fortunate gift of a share in the Constitutionnel, conferred upon him by an ad- mirer, raised M. Thiers to comparative affluence. Leaving his garret in the aUey de Montesquieu, he emerged at once as one of the most prominent men in France, in the two paramount fields of literature and politics. Growing discontented with the somewhat antiquated tone of the Con- stitutionnel, he established in 1828 a new paper, more libei-al in its principles, caUed the National. In this journal an unrelenting war was waged against the Polignac administration, which, often suppressing particular numbers, and adopting other partial remedies against the galling stings of Thiers and his assistants — Armand Carrel, and some of the most able men of the liberal party — finally took the desperate expedient of the Ordinances of July. The revolution of 1830, the result of that measure, is matter of notoriety. This occurrence, so fatal to the Jesuits and the elder Bourbons, materially tended to the ad- vancement of M. Thiers. Under the new govern- ment he was nominated councillor of state, and intrusted, without title, with the functions of secretary-general to the ministry of finance under Baron Louis. The first ministry appointed after the elevation of Louis-Philippe, being composed of heterogeneous materials, was speedily decom- posed. Under the Lafitte administration, formed in November 1830, Thiers received the official title of under-secretary of state in the depart- ment to which he was already attached. It may be mentioned that he had previously pub- PRELIMINARY NOTICE OF M. THIERS AND HIS AVORK. lished a pamphlet on Law's system, which, de- veloping sound and compi'ehensive views of finance, recommended him to that branch of the public service. At the same time he was elected deputy for the town of Aix, his alma mater, and made his first appearance in the Chamber, where he experienced a very unfavourable reception. In person, M. Thiers is almost diminutive, with a cast of features, though intellectual, re- fiective and sarcastic, far from possessing the traits of beauty. JMoreover, the face itself, small in form, as befits the body, is encumbered with a pair of spectacles so large that, when peering over the marble edge of the long narrow pulpit, styled the tribune, whence all speakers address the Chamber, it is described as appearing rather the appendage than the supporter of the two glaring orbs of crystal. With such an exterior, presenting something of the ludicrous, so fatal to effect, especially in volatile France, M. Thiers, full of recollections of Mirabeau, Vergniaud, and other orators of the revolution, essayed at first an ambitious style of oratory. The attempt provoked derision, but only for a moment. In his new sphere, as in the others he had passed through, he soon arrived at distinction. Sub- siding into the oratory natural to him, simple, vigorous, and rapid, he approved himself one of the most formidable of parliamentary debaters. He became a leading man in the Chamber, and head of the party known as the left-centre, occu- pying an intermediate position between the right-centre, or conservatives, and the extreme-left, or radicals. Parties are scarcely so strictly defined in France as in England, or at least amalgamations of them are more frequent. M. Thiers, though identified at first with the more liberal section of the Chamber, has nevertheless formed part of administrations based upon principles of a rather adverse tendency. In truth, political consistency is not a very eminent virtue amongst the chief statesmen on the other side of the channel. No doubt a sense of duty impels these oscillations, but they cause ruptures and alienations which afFect the credit and character of public men. M. Thiers has not escaped the charge of ter- giversation, or failed to give great umbrage to the party with which he was oi'iginally associated. He became an object of suspicion to his former allies by the support he gave Casimir-Pcrier's ministry, founded on the juste-milieu, or middle- course policy, which succeeded that of Lafitte, and his subsequent career did not tend to restore their confidence. He accepted the office of min- ister of the interior under the Soult cabinet, formed on the 11th October 1832, and from that time until February 1836, continued to fill some of the principal departments of state, as the ministries of the interior, of commerce and pub- lic works, and of foreign affairs, under various chiefs, Marshals Soult, Gerard, Mortier, and Broglie. At length, on the 22d February 1836, he was himself elevated to the post of President of the Council, or prime minister, the highest dignity a subject can attain in France. His ad- ministration was not of long duration, being dissolved on the 25th August of the same year. He then passed into opposition, but was again called to the Presidency of the Council by the king, in the beginning of the year 1840, which he held until September of that year, when he gave place to his great rival M. Guizot, under the nominal premiership of Marshal Soult. Up to September 1840, ]M. Thiers had always professed himself a warm advocate of the English alliance, but taking offence at the operations of the British squadron against Mehemet All in Syria, he then assumed a hostile attitude towards this country, and doubtless but for the firm re- sistance of the king, Louis Philippe, would have provoked a war. This incident seems first to have awakened the slumbering animosity of the French against Great Britain, which has been since expressed through their journals in no measured terms. At aU events the cause of his resignation has completely reinstated M. Thiers in the good opinion of his early party, and it is lamentable to admit that he may at the present moment be ranked as one of the principal lead- ers of the tear faction. For, strange as it may appear, all other political differences are merged, and the question of peace or war has become the grand pivot of party polemics. "War without object, without aim, save of vengeance for past humiliations. It is probable that M. Thiers has been driven temporarily to side with this faction from posi- tion rather than from real inclination. Personally he must be averse to incur the hazards of a war which would in all probability end in a fresh revolution, especially if the French arms encoun- tered reverses. If called again to power, as it may happen within a brief interval, a heavy re- sponsibility will weigh upon him, since upon the policy he pursues the destinies of civilization itself may depend. Thus there are few more important personages at the present day than INI. Thiers, and certainly he exhibits a remarkable example of the social equality existing in France, for in no other country could a man, so totally destitute of every influential prestige, have risen by the mere force of ability from an obscure sta- tion to the very summit of social and political eminence. There are instances in this country of successful lawyers reaching dignity and rank from hvimble origins, but in no other profession, and least of all in literature or politics, the epithet of " literary or political adventurer" being deemed one of the most opprobious which can be applied to an individual. The French, on the contrary, are content to enlist talents in their service wherever they may be manifested, indifferent as to the family or fortune of their possessor. Having thus traced M. Thiers's past career, and assigned his present position, it only remains to add a few words on the subject of his great PRELIMINARY NOTICE OF M. THIERS AND HIS WORK. work. One of its principal merits to an English reader is, that it presents the revolution and all its attendant circumstances in a peculiarly French view. Every thing relative to France is more fully developed, its internal condition, the various parties that from time to time arose, obtained supremacy, and eventually fell, the personages who composed those parties and sviccessively directed the storm, are all more strikingly and circumstantially portrayed than could possibly occur in the composition of a foreign writer. Hence a more perfect insight is afforded into the causes of the revolution, and a more distinct ap- preciation of its numerous phases. The concerns of other countries are rarely introduced, except as they affect, for the moment, the interests of France, and thus attention is exclusively direct- ed to the one paramount object, the elucidation of the event related. The style of the work is in unison with its design. Not formed upon the severe models of Greece and Rome, it partakes more of conversa- tional freedom, and is light and agreeable rather, than stern and dignified. It is at times unequal; occasionally mounting to pathos and eloquence, and again descending below the standard of cor- rectness. As in most modern French works, it is not easy of translation, so as to preserve its tone and spirit. In fact, with the country itself, the language also has been revolutionized, and every one acquainted with French literature is conscious of the remarkable difference that exists between the styles in vogue in the ISth and 19th centuries. A certain brevity of ex- pression and abruptness of transition has become prevalent, rendering the meaning obscure and difficult to render, with a due regard to fidelity, into appropriate English. This singular manner is carried to such excess by one historian, M. IMichelet, that he may be said to write almost in apostrophes. As military events form so large a portion of the history of the Revolution, it is gratifying that M. Thiers treats them with unprecedented clearness and precision. The plans of campaigns and of battles are so lucidly unfolded that every reader, however little conversant with martial tactics, is enabled to sieze and comprehend them. This is no ordinary recommendation, since in general these accounts are given in such confused and complicated verbiage, that few but professional heads can form any distinct ideas upon the matters detailed. The descriptions of Hoche's operations in La Vendee and of Bona- parte's first campaign in Italy, are more par- ticularly distinguished for this clearness of ex- position. In fact, for a civilian, M. Thiers dis- plays an extraordinary knowledge of the art of war. He appears, indeed, like all his country- men, to entertain too decided a partiality for it, esteeming military success as the highest of human glories. After aU, this feeling is not confined to the French, for in all countries the most substantial rewards and honours seem awarded to fortunate warriors. One reproach has been urged against M. Thiers in his history, which it may be necessary to no- tice. It is the view of inevitability, or fatalism, which he inclines to take of many of the atro- cities committed during the revolution. This charge is made against him at least, and prin- cipally by those who are prone to exculpate the enormities of kings or princes, regarding them as beings incapable of wrong ; but with com- paratively little justice. He is no apologist of the reign of terror, but represents popular ex- cesses in no more heinous light than they reaUy merit. In a national outbreak, Thiers argues, they were unavoidable, and in truth were fre- quently provoked by impolitic opposition; and when France was threatened with invasion by combined Europe, revolutionary fury was driven, by fears and motives of self-defence, to the com- m'-'^ion of crimes that would not have occurred if it had been left quietly to exhaust itself. This is an opinion daily gaining ground, and it is now pretty generally admitted that the coalition in 1793 chiefly occasioned all the mischief that subsequently befel France and Europe at large. Thiers's doctrine goes no farther than this, if indeed quite so far. With regard to any dogma about the revolution being predestined for the re- generation of the world, such ideas are so purely speculative as to admit neither of corroboration nor of refutation. In order to render the work more complete, a sketch of the history of Prance, fi-om the founda- tion of the monarchy to the commencement of the revolution, has been prefixed. IGth October, IStt CONTENTS. Page SUMMARY OF THE HISTORY OF FRANCE TO THE REIGN OF LOUIS XVI. France before and during the dominion of the Romans, 5 Establishment of the Gothic and German nations in France, ....... 5 Conquest of the Franks under Clovis. — Ci^dl State of the Populations in France, ..... 6 Successors of Clovis. — Origrin of Feudalism, . . 7 Mayors of the Palace. — Kings irithout power. — Charles Martel. — Fiefs, ...... 8 Pepin the Short, the First King of the Carlovingian race. — The Clergy, a Political order, .... 8 Charlemagne.— The Western Roman empire restorea tor a time, ....... 8 Louis the Good-natured. — Power of the Clergy. — Judicial ordeals. — The Duel. — Language, ... 3 Decay of the Empire under Charles the Bald. — The Feudal System, ..... 10 Decay of the Royal power and of the Carlovingian race. — Establishment of the Normans, ... 10 Accession of the Race of the Capets. — Despotism of the Monks, ....... 11 First Crusade. — Power of the Monks, . . .12 First Rise of the Boroughs under Louis the Fat, . 12 Suger. — Conquests of Philip Augustus. — The Albigenses, 13 Reign of Louis IX.— Justice begins to displace tihe feudal ferocity, . . . . . . .13 Estabhshment of National Assemblies under Philip the Handsome.— The Templars. — Parliament of Paris, 14 Enfranchisement of the Peasant-Serfs. — Reverses under Philip of Valois, ..... x5 King John. — His Captivity. — The States exercised the Sovereignty. — Jackerie, . .... 16 Charles T. — DuguescUn. — The Royal power regains the supremacy. — The Fourteenth century, . . 17 Minority of Charles VI. — His Madness.-^Civil War, . 17 Continuation of the Civil War. — The English at Paris. — Pennanent Parliament, . . . . .18 The Maidof Orleans..— Charles VII.— France reconquered, 18 Louis XI. — Oppression of the People, and humbling of the Nobles, ....... 19 Charles VIII. — States-General. — Conquests and reverses in Italy. — Fifteenth century, .... 19 Louis Xlf. — E.xternal Wars.— Paternal Administration, 20 Francis I.— Charles V. — Luther and Calvin. — Revival of Letters, ....... Henry II. — Continuation of the Wars of Francis I., . Religious Factions under Francis II.. Charles IX.— Civil War.- St. liartholomew, The League.— The Sixteen. — Henry III., End of the League. — Entry of Henry IV. into Paris.— Six- teenth century, ...... Reign of Henry'lV., ..... Richelieu.— Lous XIII. — Despotism, Mazarin. — Minority of Louis XIV.— The Fronde, Prosperity of Louis XIV., ..... Reverses of Louis XIV. — The Seventeenth century, . The Regency.— Reign of Louis XV.— The Eigliteenth cen- tury, ....... HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. Preface of .M. Thiers, CHAPTER I. The States-General, CHAPTER II. CHAPTER 111. Accession of Louis XVI.— Commencement of the Revolu- tion, ....... 2G Troubles in Paris —Lafayette. — Mirabcau.— Proceedings of the Assembly in framing the Constitution, . . 49 CHAPTER IV. Intriguesof the Court.— Attack on the Palace of Versailles. —The King and the Assembly remove to Paris.— For- mation of Clubs, ...... 60 CHAPTER V. State of European Powers.— First issue of Assignats Festival of the Federation.— Resignation of Necker.— CivU Oath imposed upon the Clergy, ... 75 CHAPTER VL Progress of the Emigration.— Death of Mirabeau.— Flight of the King, and his capture.— Declaration of PUnitz. — Termination of the Constituent Assembly, . . 87 CHAPTER VIL The Legislative Assembly, .... 98 CHAPTER VIII. The Emigrant Princes impeached.— Formation of a Gir- ondist ministry.— Declaration of War against Austria. — Flights of Quieorain and Tournay, . . . 113 CHAPTER IX. From April to the events of the 20th June, . . 122 CHAPTER X. Consequences of the 20th June, and events subsequent to August 1792, 135 CHAPTER XL Insurrection of the 10th August, and suspension of the King, 152 CHAPTER XII. Situation of Parties within and without the Assembly .nfter the 10th August— Taking of Longwy by the Prussians.— Massacres of September, and their principal circum- stances, ....... 160 CHAPTER XIIL Campaign of the Argonne. — Victory of Valiiiy.— P.otrcat of the Allies, . . . . . " . . 17G CHAPTER XIV. Massacres of Versailles.— Opening of the National Conven- tion, 20th September, 1792. — Establishment of the Re- public, ....... 182 CHAPTER XV. Military operations at the end of October 1792.— Second Contest between the Girondists and the Jtoiiiitiiiii. — I'le- liminary propositions for the Trial of Louis XVI., . 192 Military operations.- Belgium, CHAPTER XVL -Victory of Jemappcs. — Conquest of CHAPTER XVII. Proceedings relative to the trial of Louis XVI. — His First Examination before the Convention, CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVIII. Continuation of the Trial of Louis XTI.— His Defence.— His Conclenination.— His last uiiuutos in the prison and ^ on the scatl'old, ...... 226 CHAPTER XIX. Position of Parties after the Death of Louis XVI.— Aspect of Foreign Affairs.— Second ("nalitiun atrainst France.- Struggles between the (Tirondists and .Mountaineers. — Establishment of the Extraordinary Criminal Tribunal, 236 CHAPTER XX. Militarv reverses, and their consequences.— Beginning of the troubles in La Vendee.— Revolutionary Decrees.— Arrest of the Duke of Orleans and his F amily.— Treason and Flight of Dumouriez, ..... 253 CHAPTER XXL Establishment of the Committee of Public VCelfare.— Re- newal of the Stniggle between the two Parties in the Con- vention. — Impeachment of Marat. — His acquittal and triumph. — State of Opinion in the Chief Towns. — Sketch of Brittany and La A'endee, and the Causes of the Civil War, 2GI CHAPTER XXIL Levy of a Parisian army of 12,000 Men.— Increasing ferment amongst the Revolutionists. — Contest between the Com- nume^and the Convention. — Principal Events of the 2Sth, 2'Jth, and 30th Jlay, ITiCl- Last Struggle between the Girondists and Mountaineers.— Twenty-nine Girondists an-ested.— Glance at the Progress of the Revolution, . 270 CHAPTER XXIIL Projects of the Jacobins after the 31st May.— The Girond- ists excite the departments against the Convention. — Military Events on the Rhine and in the North.— Siege of Slayence by the Prussians. — Assassination of Marat bf Charlotte Corday, 289 CHAPTER XXIV. Distribution of Parties since the 31st May.— Discredit of Danton.— Reverses in La Vendee.— Capture of Mayence and Valenciennes. — Imminent peril of the Republic in August 1793, and measures of violence consequent thereon, 305 CHAPTER XXV. Festival of the 10th August, and Inauguration of the Con- stitution of 1793.— Ex'traordinai7 measures, military, ad- ministrative, and financial, occasioned by the imminent Dangers of tlie Country.— Decrees of vengeance, . 318 CHAPTER XXVL Military operations in August and September 1793. — Toulon deUvered to the English.— Defeat of the Duke of York.— Reverses in La Vendee.— Establishment of the Revolu- tionary Government.— Trial of Custine, and his execu- tion, ........ 327 CHAPTER XXVII. Capture of Lvons, and terrible retribution on its inhabi- tants—Victory of Watiguics.— Reduction of La Vendee. — Reverses on the Rhine, ..... 342 ' CHAPTER XXVin. Proscriptions at Lyons, Marseilles, and Rourdoaux.- Exe- cution of Marie-Antoinette, tlie (arondists. tlie Duke of Orleans, Bailly, and Madame Roland.— Institution of the Republican Calendar and the Worship of Reason, . 350 CHAPTER XXIX. Return of Danton. — Divisions in the party of the Mountain. Abohtion of the Worship of Reason. — Final Consolida- tion of the Revolutionary Government. — Arrest of Ronsin, Vincent, and Foreign emissaries, . . .364 CHAPTER XXX Close of the Campaign of 1793.— Retreat of the Austrians and Prussians. — Siege and cajiture of Toulon. — Irruption of the Vendeans beyond the Loire. — Their defeat at Mans, and destruction at Savenay.— General retrospect as to tlie Campaign of 1793, . . . .371 CHAPTER XXXI. Contest between the Hebertists and Dantonists.— The Com- mittee of Public Welfare places itself between the two Page parties.— Famine in Paris. — Efforts of the Hebertists. — Arrest and death of llebert, Chaumette, uke of Modcna ; Foundation of the Cispadan Republic. — New efforts of the Austrians in Italy ; Perilous jiosition of the French army ; Battle of Arcole, .... 608 CHAPTER L. Clarke at the Head-quarters of the Army of Italy. —Rup- ture of the negotiations with the British Cabiiiet.--Expc- dition to Ireland. — Administrative labours of the Direc- tory during the winter of the Year V. — State of the Finances. — Capitulation of Kehl. — Last attemi>t of Aus- tria ujion Italy. — Victories of Ilivoli and La !• avorita. — Fall of Mantua. — Close of the memorable Campaign of 1796, 617 CHAPTER LL Situation of the Government in the winter of the Vear V. (17'.)7.) — Characters and disputes of the Five Directf)rs. — Club of Clichy ; Intrigues of the Royalist faction. — Plot of Brottier and accomplices discovered. — Elections of the Year V. — Glance at the situation of Foreign Powers at the opening of tlie Campaign of 1797, . . . G27 Page CHAPTER LII. State of the French armies at the opening of the Campaign of 1797. — March of Bonaparte against the Roman States. — Treaty of Tolentino with the Pope. — Fresh Campaign against the Austrians.— Passage of the TagUamento, and Battle of Tarms. — Passage of the Julian Alps, and march on Vienna. — Preliminaries of Peace signed with Austria at Leoben.— Passage of the Rhine. — Perfidy of the Vene- tians. — Massacre of Verona. — Fall of the Republic of Venice, ........ 635 CHAPTER Lin. Bonaparte's position vsith regard to the Directory. — Em- barrassing situation of England after the preliminaries of Peace with Austria. — Renewed proposals for Peace and Conferences at Lille. — Elections of the Year V. — Contest between the Councils and Directory. — Statement of the Finances of the Year V. — Return of the Priests and Emigrants. — Intrigues of the Royalist party. — Po- sition and strength of parties. — Disposition of the armies, ........ 652 CHAPTER LIV. Preparations of the Opposition and Clichyans against the Directory. — Hostility of the Councils. — Project of law as to the National Guard and against Political Societies. — Fete to the Army of Italy.— Negotiations for Peace with the Emperor and England. — Complaint of the Councils regarding the march of troops. — Divisions in the party of the Opposition. — Definitive plan of the Directory against the majority of the Councils. — Coup d'etat of the 18th Fructidor. — Invasion of the two Councils by an armed force. — Banishment of Fifty-three Deputies, two Directors, and other Citizens. — Consequences of this Revolution, . . . . . . .666 CHAPTER LV. Consequences of the 18th Fi-uctidor.— Disgrace of Moreau. — Death of Iloche. — Law against the Old Nobility. — Rup- ture of the Conferences at LiUe with England.— Negotia- tions at Udine. — Proceedings of Bonaparte in Italy ; the Foundation of the Cisalpine Republic ; the Ligurian Con- stitution ; Establishments in the MediteiTanean. — Treaty of Campo-Formio.— Return of Bonaparte to Paris; Tri- umphal Festival, ...... 682 CHAPTER LVI. General Bonaparte at Paris ; his relations with the Direc- tory. — Project of an Invasion of England. — Congress of Rastadt. — Causes of Difficulty in the negotiations. — Revolutions in Holland, Rome, and Smtzerland. — Do- mestic situation of France ; Elections of the Year VI. ; Nomination of Treilhard to the Directoi-y. — Expedition to Egypt substituted for an Invasion of England ; Pre- parations for that Expedition, .... 692 CHAPTER LVH. Expedition to Egypt. — Departure from Toulon ; Arrival at Malta; Reduction of that Island. — Disembarkation at Alexandria; Capture of that City. — March u]ion Cairo. — Battle of the Pyramids; Occupation of Cairo. — .\dniin- istrative labours of Bonaparte in Egypt ; Organization ot the New Colony. — Battle of Aboukir ; Destruction of the French fleet by the English, ..... 706 CHAPTER LVin. Effect of the Expedition of Eg\-pt in Europe.- Fatal Con- sequences of tlie Battle of .\bonkir. — Declaration of War by the Porto. — Eft'orts of England to fomi a New Coali- tion. — Conferences «ith Austria. — Fresli commotions in Holland. Switzerland, and the Italian IJepublics. — Change in the Cisalpine Constitution. — Domestic situation of France. A new opposition in the Councils. — General disposition for War. Law of the Conscription. — Finances of the Year VII.— Resumption of Hostilities. Invasion of the Roman States by the Neapolitan army. — Conquest of Nafiles by General Chanipiounet. — Abdication of the King of Sardinia, ...... 717 CHAPTER LIX. State of the Administration of the Republic and of the Armies at the coniiiii iiccnient of 1799. — Military prepara- tions. — Levy of L'OO.dOO Conscripts. — Declaration of War against Austria. — Opening of the Campaign. — Invasion of the Orisons. — Battle of Stockach. — Retreat of Jour- dan. — Military operations in Italv. — Battle of Magnano. — Retreat of Scherer. — Assassination of the French Pleni- potentiaries at Rastadt — Elections of the Year VII. — Sicyos elected a Director in place of Rewbell, . . 729 CONTENTS, Page CHAPTER LX. Continuation of the Campaign of 1799 ; Massena combines tlie command of the Armies of Helvetia and the Danube and occupies the hne of the Limmat.— An-ival of Suwar- rov in Italy.— Scherer transfers the command to Moreau. — Kattle of Cassano.— Retreat of Moreau.— Attempt to join the Army of Naples ; Rattle of the Trebbia.— Coali- ♦r^ntj'll Parties against the Dii-ectory.-Revolution of the 30th Prau-ial, . . . . . -.jj CHAPTER LXI. Formation of the New Directory. —Moulins and Roger- JJucos succeed Larevelliere and MerUn.- Le^-^- of all tho Classes of Conscripts. - 1-orced Loan of One Hundred Mdhons.-Fresh Militarj- I'lans.-Resumption of Opera, hons in Italy. — Joubert General -in- Chief — Battle of No\T and Death of Joubert.— Debarkation of the An-lo- Russiansm Holland. -New Troubles in the Interfor- Arrest of Eleven Journalists; Motion to declare the Country in danger, ..... -'■o CHAPTER LXII. Pag« ^n'!I^.«t"ff''t" °^ Bonaparte's operations in Egvrt.-Con- torv nf 7 "\'"\^ "^ Suwarrov into Switzerland -VC tory of Zunch ; Retreat of Suwarrov.-Events in Ho^ rut' ^^*«='' and Capitulation of the Angl,^Rus Lns -i' Closeof the Campaign of 1799, . . ^vu^ians.- CHAPTER LXIII. Return of Bonaparte.-His debarkation at Freius -Fi citement among aU Parties on his retum.-Hit''coalition with Sieyes to overturn the Directorial Constiturion^ Preparations for and Revolution of the 18th irumah-e Uiis mstoV "^' ^^-'--al Consulate!!lconclu^on7f •'' 767 SUMMARY OF THE HISTORY OF FRANCE TO THE REIGN OF LOUIS XVL FRANCE BEFORE AND DURING THE DOMINION OF THE ROMANS. The nations whicli peopled France in tlie remote era of its history, are known to us only from the accounts of the Romans their conquerors. There is no doubt those tribes were descended from previous conquerors, mixed witli tlie vanquished people. Caesar represents them as warlike, always armed, and prompt to termi- nate their disputes by combat ; fickle, somewhat in- clined to idleness, but hospitable, generous, confiding, and sincere. They were so impressed with what is called the right of the strongest (as if force were in fact a right), that they claimed to be masters of the lives of their \vives and children. The Druids, their priests, and sole possessors of certain doctrines, w^ere assured of their obedience from their credulity. Those priests supported their authority by tlie terror of anathemas ; they were exempt from the burdens of the commm\ity, and engrossed much of its wealth. In common with many other barbarians, they sacrificed human victuns. It is, nevertlieless, alleged, that they upheld the dogma of a future life, and the belief m a supreme being ; but it seems more probable that they merelj- practised the superstitions of a i^olytheism, or of a barbarous fetichism. The poets, or bards, executed martial songs tending to animate the combatants, and perpetuate the renown of heroes. These tribes, whom the Romans called Gauls, and who gave themselves the name of Celts, were for the most part governed aristocratically. The military chiefs, and men of superior daring, formed what we describe in modern language by the word nubility; they held riches and power, whilst to the multitude was left nothing but slavery and misery. Gaul was a species of confederation ; each tribe was governed by a richs^ or king, elected by the fighting men, or nobles. These kings were far from possessing abso- lute power. One of them said to Caesar, " The re- public has as much authority over me, as I power over it." Roman discipline, under the genius and fortune of Csesar, triumphed over Gallic valour in the course of ten years. By the policy of the conqueror, di\isions were sown amongst the confederated triljcs, and, by a skilful use of allies and partisans, he vanquisliod them by means of themselves. In proimrtion as the Gauls were impetuous in attack, tlicy were discou- raged by repulse and overthrow. JJesiilcs, colonies had begim what conquest conqjleted; tlie Gauls became Romans ; new arts and manners were imparted to them, and civilisation finally bent them to the yoke. The municipal sj'stem and improved agriculture of the Romans soon rendered Gaul a flourishing pro- Tince, and then dcsjiotism prev( d uiiou it. This con- dition lasted for four centuries, at tne end of Mliicli the Gauls were in the depth of misery, devastated by proconsuls, torn by factions, and alternating between insurrection and submission to ephemeral tyrants. At this period, Christianity was established in the Roman empire, in the midst of those frightful ravages attendant upon the inroads of several barbarian tribes. It was a religion for the oppressed and the wearied ; the Gospel — a code of philanthropy, equality, and consolation to the wretched — was spread abroad over the Gallic provinces. In 325, the Emperor Constan- tino decreed the public exercise of the Christian reli- gion, which for a moment re-established order. The bishops enjoyed popularity, and despotism caressed them, to secure the obedience of the people. They were not long in gradually enfranchising themselves from all civil dominion, and the Bishop of Rome, who has since been exalted to the rank of sovereign pontilT, had thus early a spiritual supremacy and temporal influence. The civilisation, arts, and literature of the Romans, were in decay ; the empire, divided and laid waste, was crumbling into ruins ; discipline was relaxed ; tlie prestige of tlie Roman name was at an end ; ignorance and barbarism were extending their darkness over those fine provinces which had been so prosperous under the administration of those phi- losophic emperors„ Trajan, Antoninus, and Marcus Aurelius. ESTABLISHMENT OF THE GOTHIC AND GERMAN NATIONS IN FRANCE. The barbarian tribes of the north of Europe, at- tracted by the mild climate and richness of the jiro vinces of the empire, had made frequent incursions into them ; but they had been repelled, either by force, or by treaties and subsidies. This last expedient was mischievous, but despotism, sunk in decrepitude, often employed it ; and degenerate Rome even had recom-se to the arms of its enemies to defend itself against foes of similar character. Legions of barbarians were subsidised to guard the frontiers. A tribe of Franks, a nation of Germany, was long entrusted Avith the defence of the banks of the Rhine. At length, these barbarians, liaving learnt from the Romans tlie art of fighting, were moved to turn the knowledge to their own profit; they preferred invading the emjjire to merely guarding it, and amidst the disorder reigning within it, they conceived the project of forming dur- able settlements. The Vesogotlis, or Visigoths, had installed themselves in Sjiain iind the south of France ; the Ihinjiiniiians had fixed themselves in the east ; and the Franks in Belgium. These Franks had been iu closer relation witli the Romans than the rest of the liarbarians. They marched in several tribes, or armies, and at the head of each was an elective chief, 'i'lie monks, who have written some wretched chro- nicles upon those times, have preserved the names of certain of these Frank leaders, of whom our zealous monarchical historians liave made kings of Franco. Fur-Ill iiikI, Chlod, Merveg, Ilihl-rik, were more or less poweii'ul. 'J'he existence of the first is uncertain. HiSTOIlY OF FRANCE. Aetius (a. d. 420), general of Valentinian III., gained some advantage over the second, vanejuished several barbarous tribes, and re-established, for a fleeting period, the Roman authority in the Gauls, except in Armorica (now Brittany), which had declared itself independent. About that time (4.51), the cloud of Tartars which Attila, styled the scvurge of God, was leading to the pillage of the world, fell in his progress on the Gauls. Aetius made peace with the other enemies of the empire, joined his army to that of the Visigoths, and conquered Attila in tlie plains of Chalons in Champagne. Without the occurrence of tliat great victory, it is possible the race of the Gauls might have been at the present day mingled with that of the Huns. At that period (459), the son of Merveg or Mero- va;us, whom Ave name Childeric, commanded the Franks, established at Tournay. His subjects de- posed him because he seduced their daughters. It would api)ear that this right of the Franks was after- wards held to have fallen into disuse ; but the fact itself is worthy of notice, because it proves that the Franks were accustomed to depose their kings. They chose in his place the leader of the Roman militia, ^gidius. But a Roman patrician, his enemy, having excited against him the Visigoths, and even the tribe of Ripuarian Franks, he formed an alliance witli Childeric, and tliey conjointly overcame the Visigoths at Orleans, in 463. Childeric being an excellent warrior, recovered the favour of his Franks. He resided at Tom-nay, and made few incursions into Gaul. Wlien he died (480), he left liis son, a boy of sixteen, at the head of his tribe, which was called Salic. I have not touched upon all the events which the history of the Gauls presents at this epoch ; even were space abundant, they are uninteresting ; we have relations of nmnerous battles and alliances by turns between the Romans, the Franks, tlie Visigoths, and other barbarians ; of ambitious generals, raised by tlie intrigiies of the imperial court, speedily over- throwing their imbecile masters, and occasionally stimulating irriiptions of the barbarians, when such a course was suitable to their designs. The empire of the west had come to a close dmring that era ; the Saxons occupied Anjou and Maine; the Burgmnlians the coimtry of the Sequani ; the Visigoths tlie south as far as the Loire ; the Allcmanni and the Franks disputed the possession of tlie north ; the Romans or Gauls preserved the rest ; and the Annorici were in- dependent. CONQUEST OF THE FRANKS TINDER CLOVIS.— CIVIL STATE OF THE POPULATIONS IN FRANCE. (a.d. 481.) The son of Hildrick was Hlodwech or Chlodovech ; we call him Clovis, and this name ap- pears to have a common origin with that of Hludvick or Louis. His territory was confined, and lie had for neighbours different tribes of Franks. He was ambi- tious, and had all tlie talents of a conqueror. He conceived the project of rendering himself master of all Gaul. Having united under his standard another Fraiikish tribe, his first conquest was over Sj-agrius (486), tiie son of iEgidius, who governed the Gallo- Romans of Soissons, wliom, having forced to surrender himself, he decapitated. Clovis subsequently allied himself with the Ripuarian Franks, and still more increased his power and influence in the Gauls by marrying Clotilda (493), the daughter of a king of the Burgundians. This princess was a Christian, and by espousing her, Clovis proclaimed himself the pro- tector of all the Christians in Gaul, who composed the greatest part of the population, and at the same time secured their support in return. He soon had occasion for recourse to it ; formidable competitors for dominion presented themselves in the AUemanni, whose army was composed of different hordes cf German devastators. In conjunction with the Ripu- arians, he gave them battle at Tolbiac (496), near Cologne, and routed them. The chronicler Gregory, in relating this victory, mentions a circumstance too much resembling the Laharum of Constantine, to in- duce me to consider it any thing but a fable. It is possible, however, that in the luicertainty of the battle, the Frank king publicly vowed to become a Christian, as a means of animating the courage of the numerous soldiers of that religion serving in his array. The bishop Remigius, or Remi, baptised him, it is stated, at Rheims, together with a part of his army ; but the similarity of the name with that of the city throws an air of suspicion over the relation. The history of these times is thickly strewed with false- hoods and miracles. The Romans had frequently decorated the barbarian princes with their titles of dignity, in order to gain them by flattering their vanity. Clovis had the title of master of the Roman militia; after the defeat of iEgidius, he was so in substance. His conversion drew all the orthodox Romans under his sway. The kings of the Visigoths were also Christians, but Arians, that is to say, they disbelieved the divinity of Jesus. The confederated Armorici, agauist whom Clovis had long waged war, and one of whose cities, Paris, he had taken in 494, were reduced to peace. The Visi- goths and Burgundians alone remained for him to conquer, and he began with the latter. Clotilda her self excited him to the attack, to gratify her revenge against Gondeband, who had murdered her father. Clovis, who seldom entered iipon an important enter- prise without an ally, proposed to share the conquest with the powerful Theodoric, then reigning over the Goths, and endeavouring to restore the Roman civili- sation in Ijaly ; but Clovis achieved their subjugation without him (500), which did not prevent Theodoric taking possession of his stipiilated portion. The defeat of Gondeliand had been mainly owing to the defection of the Christians, which convinced that chief of tlie necessity of jielding to the predominant opi- nion ; and having declared liimself a Christian, Clovis replaced hun on the throne as his tributary. This moderation was doubtless caused by the jealousy of Theodbric at the aggrandisement of Clovis, which likewise operated in delaying the subjugation of the Visigoths. However, their king Alaric having in- curred the hatred of his subjects, Clovis seized the occasion, coalesced with Gondeband, and overcame the anny of Alaric at Vouille, near Poitiers (a. d. 505). The consequence of that victory was the conquest of almost the whole of the south of Gaul, which received at a later date the name of France from its conquerors. Clovis returned in triumph to Tours (510), and made offerings at the tomb of St Martin. He there ob- tained from Anastasius, Emperor of Constantinople, the dignities of Roman consul and of Augustus, which were conferred by diploma. He assumed the consular purple in the church of St Martin. The honom* could add but little to his real powei\ Clovis afterwards fixed his residence in Paris, which was still called Lutetia, the principal abode in the city of the Parisians, and which had been occupied by the Caesar Julian, when he administered the Gauls. To remove all fears of rivalry, Clovis caused the chiefs of the different tribes of Franks to be destroyed, and ]u'ocm-ed his oavu election in their stead. He died at Paris in 511. It will be observed that he resembled Constantine in more than one particular. Equally cruel and ambitious, he likewise knew how to make religion subservient to his designs. Charlemagne was aware of the same secret, as well as divers other spoliators. The condition of the populations inhabiting France at this epoch, is an interesting subject of inquiry. l"he Franks were divided into the free and the servile ; but the slavery of the latter was not so personal as amongst the Romans. They were governed by the HISTORY OF FRANCE. Salic law, framed by CIotIs for his own tribe, or by that of the Ripuarians. The free men assembled every year in the Field of Mars, and there made laws. Tliey elected their kings, but generally nominated the eldest son of him Avhom they were to replace. The Burgirmdians, ruled by the law of Gondeband, main- tained themselves as a distinct nation even under the second race ; their manners were more ferocious than tliose of the others. The Visigoths had for the most part passed into Spain. The Romans, or Gauls, pre- served their civil rights, so far as was consistent with a state of conquest. As the clerks or ecclesiastics belonged to tliat nation, through them it retained a portion of influence. Religion was the only check that could be offered to brute force, and it is melan- choly tliat it was so flagrantly abused at a sub- sequent period. But Christianity then preserved something of its primitive purity, and the simple faith of the barbarians rendered it a salutary instrument of peace and harmony. The bishops were respected from their exemplary manners, and they beneficently interposed between the conquerors and the subject populations. When a Frank assumed the priesthood, his long hair, which distinguished the free men of his nation, was shorn, and he was held to have become a Roman, or a man of letters. It is true that less was paid for the murder of a Roman than of a Frank ; but it could not be otherwise in a code of conquerors who exacted pecuniary penalties for homicide proportioned to the importance of the deceased. On the other hand, the Romans were judged by their own tribunals, and when a cause was at issue between a Roman and a Frank, a tribunal was formed dra^vn equally from the two nations. The Latin language, tliough infinitely degenerated, had a marked predominance, and was used in tlie public acts of the Franks ; furtliermore, the Franks formed alliances witli the Romans. A glance at the history of those times, in wliich not a single insurrection of the Gaulo-Romans against the Franks is noted, but in which, on the contrary, the ascendancy of the bishops in maintaining a degree of equality or union between the two races is distinctly to be traced, is sufficient to disprove the opinion of those wlio hold that the wliole Gallic nation was reduced to slavery. We certainly cannot wholly adopt the de- ductions which an ingenious critic has drawn from tlie consulate of Clovis, when he perceives in that Frankisli monarch a veritable inheritor of the Roman authority and magistracy, but we must deplore tlie passion with which a great man disputes that opinion, in order to sustain his pretended rights of conquest. Montesquieu, exalting the ])rerogatives of the Franks, and degrad- ing the condition of the Gauls, becaiise he liad tlie inexpressible weakness to consider himself descended in a direct line from the former, shows us how aristo- cratic vanity can lead genius astray. But wliat matters it to the Frencli of the present day wlietlier they can trace a Frank or Gallic ancestry ? Wiat conclusion can be now drawn from tlie slavery of tlie whole Gallic people, even were tlie fact undoubted? Is not the eternal charter of the rights of man and the citizen in fuU force ? SUCCESSORS OF CLOVIS.-ORIGIN OF FEUDALISM. Ilie conquerors scattered through the Gauls did not assemble to name a successor to Clovis ; his four sons divided his dominions amongst them. Similar par- titions were frequently renewed, and honco great con- fusion arises in the history of the era. Little advantage can be derived from encumbering the memory with the names of a crowd of obscure kings who resided at Orleans, Metz, Soissons, or Paris, or with the wars which they carried on for what is called their inheri- tances. The annals of that age are but a tissue of barbarities, assassinations, and inglorious battles ; no reign occurs illustrated by important changes or great political influences. The comitry was a scene of desolation and disorder. After two wars, the Franks completely subdued the Burgimdians, and they after- wards drove the Goths from the Alpine provinces. In the year 537, the Emperor Justinian granted to the Frank kings the rights of the empire over the Gallic provinces. Clotaire, who at first was only king of Soissons, was master of the whole monarchy of Clovis at the period of his death. His children niade a par- tition, holding Paris in common. Their queens, Fredegonde and l^runehiiut, excited perpetual wars between the brothers. The first was a prodigy of boldness, wickedness, and ability; she gained battles in person : the latter suffered a dreadful death, if we must believe chronicles full of falsehoods and contra- dictions. Dagobert was a prodigal king (a. d. 613), and overwhelmed France with imposts, in order to found monasteries and reward mistresses. Although a popular ballad styles him a good king, the massacre of 1.5,000 Bulgarians who had sought an asylum in his kingdom, and to whom he had given jiermission to pass the winter within it, is not significant of his humanity. But the monks made him a saint not- withstanding. Eloi, his treasurer and jeweller, ad- ministered the finances with the sole view of promoting pious foimdations. This period of history offers little interesting ; but we must revert to it when we would learn the com- mencement of the feudal system which weighed for so long a time on France. It was then that hydra of a hundred heads was born, which was to devour the French people. What was the tenure of the lands which fell to the Franks after their conquest, or which were given to them by the kings ? This is a difficulty upon which critics have been unable to agree. What sort of lands were those called salic, and which, being granted with the burden of military service, could not pass by in- heritance to females (whence came the salic law which excludes women from the throne) 7 The fact is, that the kings, after the example of the Romans, gave lands, or military benefices, at first for a certain time, subsequently for life. The great men, the leudes or JideJes, who were most frequently with the kings, fought at their sides, formed their councils, and took oaths of fidelity to them, at length transmitted these concessions to their heirs. Eacli of them constituted wliat was called a seniority or lordship, names borrowed from the municipal hierarchy of the Romans, and by which the Franks designated the superiority of one estate over the neighbouring lands. Then commenced the system of feudalism, which was a sort of prepos- terous sovereignty vested in land, and exercised by the proprietor over the inhabitants. The senior es, or lords, became of necessity so many petty t3Tants. They thenceforth exercised the rights of civil and political justice in their districts ; fines and confiscations were the advantages they derived from this power. These lordships were at first few in number, but ultimately they covered Europe. Bishops and monks became lords, and soldiers got themselves nominated to bishop- rics ; kings, lords, and priests, united to pillage and enslave the people, but at this epoch the priests were the chief gainers. The most abject superstition pos- sessed the minds of men, and the priests derived therefrom immense wealth. When a king committed a flagrant crime, lie was absolved by founding a monastery. When it was wished to gi't rid of a king, he was shut up in a cloister, and converted into a monk. However, the kings often usurped the nomination of bishops, who ought to have been elected by the peojjle, the body of the faithfuL If a layman on horseback met a priest, he was bound to dismount for the jjurjiose of saluting him. These circumstances sufficiently characterise the age. We see that feudalism, barbarity, and clerical power, grew in concert. HISTORY OF FRANCR MAYORS OF THE PALACE.-KIXGS AVITHOUT POAVER.— CHARLES MARTEL.— FIEFS. The great domestic offices in the pahice of the em- perors of Constantinople were imitated by the barba- rian kings. The last monarchs of the Merovmgian race had nothing but the sliadow of authority ; such weak princes were sure to be governed by audacious domestics or powerful nobles. The major domus, or mayor of the palace, was the first of the household dignitaries ; and the system of hereditary succession, which began to pervade all emplopuents, having been established in this the most important of all, a new race of kmgs resulted from the fact. The titular kings, secluded by the mayors of the palace, were con- demned to inactivity and mdlity, which has caused them to be called famdants (sluggards). We need not speak of those obscure victims who were often immo- lated, and endm-ed so mournful an existence with their legitimacy. Tlie mayor Pippin, or Pepin, a man of great ability, succeeded in \miting all France under his sway in 690. He re-established the assem- blies of the Field of Mars. His son Karl was one of our greatest warriors, and on that account was surnamed Martel, that is to say, the hammer. This Charles Martel kept the nobility incessantly inider arms, and was their idol. The Saracens, who had conquered Spain under the standard of the Koran, advanced into the heart of France. Charles van- quished them at Poitiers in a memorable battle (732), and drove them beyond the Pyrenees. This victory perhaps delayed the return of civilisation ; the Sara- cens possessed several arts and a degree of enlighten- ment, which long rendered Spain a flourishing king- dom. Wliat chiefly illustrates the reign of Charles is, that to recompense his officers, and defray the ex- penses of perpetual wars, he seized upon the posses- sions of the church, wliich held almost the whole territory of France ; on which account the monkish historians have doomed him to execration. It is be- lieved that the origin of fiefs is to be traced to the numerous benefices granted by him, under oath of fidelity and homage, and burdened with military ser- vice. It is remarkable that tlie gTcatest feudal lords were usurpers on the patrimony of the church. PEPIN THE SHORT, THE FIRST KING OF THE CAR- LO VINGIAN RACE. — THE CLERGY, A POLITICAL ORDER, Charles Martel disdained the crown ; his son Pepin judged it necessary to his political views. He gained it with great address. He rendered himself popular with the influential classes ; an able warrior, he gained tlie army ; and he caressed tlie clergy, to whom he restored a part of their possessions. He dispatched an embassy to the pope for his opinion on a case of conscience. " Ouglit the title of king to belong to an individual incapable of reigning, when the royal power is in the hands of a man wlio wields it advantageously ?" Zacliariah answered, that he wlio liad the power ought to take tlie title. The legitimate king was forthwith made a monk, and no more spoken of. Pepin was the first who conceived the idea of having royalty sanctioned l)y the ceremonies of the chm'ch ; he had himself anointed or consecrated by a prelate (755). Thus, the coronation of kings was introduced into France by an usurper. The reign of Pepin was sufficiently glorious. He drove the Saracens from tlie south, and rendered him- self potent m Germany. He submitted all important affairs and the making of laws to those national assemblies, which were based on the principle that Vie law is made l»j the consent of the people, and promul- gated by the king. The usurper was an esjiecial favou- rite ^vith the priests ; the pope called him a second Moses, a second David. It was doubtless to reward the clergy for their submission, that Pepin resolved to introduce them as a separate pohtical order into the national assemblies. The fiict is important in itself, independently of its being peculiar to French history.* CHARLEMAGNE.— THE WESTERN ROMAN E.AIPIRE RESTORED FOR A TIME. A man endowed with great energy of character, and wielding powerful means of action, may found a new political order, but he will efifect nothing durable, un less the people are disposed to second his exertions, and unless his projects are the expression of the gene- ral desire. Pepin divided the kingdom between his two sons (768); one of them died prematurely, and the other, whom we call Charlemagne, reigned alone. The King of the Lombards, who possessed all the north of Italy, was a potent monarch at this period ; having ofiered his daughter to Charlemagne, that prince ac- cepted her for his bride, previously repudiating the wiJfe he already had, in spite of the pope. In a short time he likewise dismissed his Lombard queen, and taking part against her father in favour of the peoi)le of Rome, his fcjrraer enemies, he dethroned hiin (774), after having taken Pavia, his capital. Pope Adrian then placed on the head of Charlemagne the iron crown of the Lombards. Thus king of the Ro- mans, Charles directed his power to subjugate a poor and valiant nation, whose only crime was hatred of dependence. It took him thirty-three 3' ears to over- come the Saxons ; force of arms not succeeding so effectually as he wished, he sent missionaries amongst them, and forced them to embrace Christianity for the purpose of oppressing them. He put thousands of them to the sword, and transported entire populations into different portions of his dominions. Vitikind, their chief, was a man illustrious for his firmness and courage. The decrees which Charlemagne directed against the Saxons, are written in characters of blood. During the same period, he attempted to push his conquests into Spain, but his armies were less fortu- nate against the Saracens who held that country. He was, however, successful in a yet grander project. In the beginning of the ninth century (800), he set the imperial crown upon his head at Rome. Pope Leo III. assisted him in the execution of that object, and the people of decayed Rome exclaimed, " Long live Charles, tlie august and benign emperor of the Romans, crowned by the hand of God!" The idea of re-establishing the empire of the Caesars, is rather remarkable in a successor of those barbarian kings who had \mited to overwhelm it. Feeling that it behoved him first of all to revive civilisation, he founded schools for the teaching of grammar, that is to say, reading, arithmetic, and church songs. These schools could only be held in cloisters and episcopal palaces, since the priests alone were ac- quainted with letters. An Enghsh monk was drawn to his court, with the view of foimding a literary in- stitute. Charles, continually sweepmg over Europe with his troops, was nevertheless watchful of every interest, and learnt grammar himself. He usually passed the winter and spring at Aix-la-Chapelle, and there he held his Fields of May, or plaids, in which the nobles, the prelates, and certain free men admitted by favour, discussed the capitularies which he promul- gated as laws. His legislation was perhaps as con- formable to the general interests as the times pennitted. Montesquieu, who pronounces so brilliant and effective an eidogy on Charlemagne, is of opinion that he pre- vented the nobles from oppressing the clergy and the * M. Bodin must meajQ early French history, as the clerical order tcmk a distinct rank in the national assemblies of all Europo at a later date, in a feudal capacity certainly at first. But in Magna Charta, the prelates and abbots are named distioctly from the maipiate.'i or nobles. HISTORY OF FRANCE. people liy keeping them constantly at war. The capi- tularies were doubtless of great boiiefit at an era when so many nations, gathered into one empire, had diffe- rent laws. Charlemagne loved industry and the arts, and possessed in an eminent degree tfiose ideas of order asd uniformity, without which all attempts at permanent establishments must fail. Indefatigable in his objects, he was ever present where his helping hand was needed. We can scarcely doulit he was of all men the most capable to graj^iDle resolutely witli barbarism, and yet he was mialjle to raise again either the empire or the civihsation of ancient Rome, because he was, in fact, the only Roman of his age, and because the nations were utterly unfit for the new civilisation, wliich was destined to spring up many centm'ies after the tomb had closed on him. During his long reign, Charlemagne was engaged in negotiations with the court of Constantinople, re- ceived an embassy of congratulation from Haroun the Just, and presided over comicUs. In order to lessen the influence of the bishops, he exempted them from military service, and in return established tithes. He ap]:)lied himself to the reformation of ecclesiastical discipline, and imposed curbs on the grasping spirit of the priests. He prevented the abuse of the right of sanctuary in cloisters from degenerating into im- pmiity for crime. He enacted several sumptuary laws and regulations for currency and commerce. He established administrative assemblies in the provinces, to which certain officers resorted to superintend the due execution of the laws entrusted to the counts in conj miction with the bishops, and to collect the com- plaints of the people. But the system of fiefs gradu;dly gained ground even in his time. Charles, conqueror of the Saxons, Bavarians, and Hungarians, and master of the greatest part of known Europe, divided the empire with his children (809). He made Pepin king of Italy, and Ludwick, or Louis, king of Aquitaine. The latter alone surviving, he associated him in the government of the empire (813). He afterwards crowned his grandson Bernard king of Italy. However, the close of this great reign was saddened by gloomy presages. The pirates of Den- mark and Sweden, who were then called Nordmans, or men of the north, began to devastate the French coasts. Charles determined to put them in a state of defence ; he visited the ports in person, and caused vessels to be constructed (814). Death surprised him at the time lie could already foresee the disasters that those rapacious barbarians would inflict on France. Charlemagne was of an astonishing stature and strength. Historians are agreed upon his private qualities ; he was sober, just, economical, and gene- rous ; sim])le in his tastes, and attentive to the mhiutest details. He administered his own domains in the same spirit as his empire, and caused even the pro- duce of his garden to be sold. We may well ask, how could such a prince massacre thirty thousand Saxons? LOUIS THE GOOn-NATURED. POWER OF TTIR CLERGY. JUDICIAL ORDEALS.-TIIE DUEL.— LANGUAGE. The bonds which had been kept tight by superior force, were soon relaxed by weakness, and in a short interval the mighty edifice of Charlemagne was shaken to it« foundation. Louis tlie Pious, or the Good-na- tured, had excellent private qualities and virtues ; ho was brave, learned, and humane ; but much more was required in the successor of Charlemagne. 1 le likewise divided the empire willi his sons (a. d. 817), and asso- ciated one of them with himself As he was uicapablc of securing obedience, enemies quickly arose against him. Four revolts against the feeble emperor rendered liis reign one long warfare. Bernard, King of Italy, was subdued and chastised (818) ; the emjjeror, dejiarting for once from his usual moderation, caused liis eyes to be put out (he had been condemned to death) ; but. speedily yielding to scruples of conscience, he obeyed all the acts of penitence and humihation which the clergy thought fit to impose on so abject a devotee. This conduct caused fresh rebellions. Judith of Bavaria, his second wife, had obtained from him a second dismemberment in favour of her son Charles whereupon his other sons revolted. The emperor yielded, confessed his error, and consented to the imprisonment of the empress (830). He soon re- called her, and attempted to resume authority over his sons ; they again rose, drew the pope to their party, seduced the emperor's troops from their allegiance and deposed him (838). Lothaire placed himself on the throne. Some infamous prelates condemned the unfortmiate monarch to a public penitence for all the acts of his life. He was clothed in sackcloth, gave up his arms, threw ashes on his head, and retreated into a cell. This revolting degradation moved the people in his fxvoiu-. A party was formed, to which the kings of Bavaria and Aquitaine, his two other sons, overcome with remorse, united themselves. Lothaire was vanquished, but obtained his pardon^ and kept his kingdom of Italy. The bishops, who had so outraged fallen greatness, were punished. However, the ambition of Judith for the aggrandisement of her son, provoked another war. The emperor subdued the rebel Louis (840), and shortly after died, over- whelmed with grief. What tends to fix our attention upon this reign, is the part played by the chm-ch during its continuance. Charlemagne had made use of the clergy as a political instrmnent ; Louis submitted to them as a superior power. The first made a temporal prince of the pope, m order to secure, through his gratitude and depen- dence, the fidelity and obedience of the people. The latter prostrated himself at the feet of those bishops of Rome who had knelt at the feet of his father. From this reign, we may date the insolent pretensions of the tiara over crowns, and that theocratic despo- tism which became so terrible under Innocent III. The bishops alleged themselves possessed of the only legitimate power; their riches were immense, and their lives scandalous. They even assumed the arraoiu- of men-at-war ; an abbot, named Alcuin, had an army of 20,000 serfs. Louis desired to reform abuses so opposed to the precepts of the Gospel, which roused against him the rage and vengeance of the clergy. To attempt reforms in a class whose supremacy he almost fully acknowledged, was a project equally dan- gerous and absurd. In this same age, the most stupid barbarism per- verted justice. It was behoved that God woidd per- form a miracle rather than allow an innocent person to suffer wrong ; so, as the criterion of criminalitj^ it was necessary to plunge the arm into boiling water, to grasp hot iron, or submit to other ordeals ; and if no injury resulted, an acquittal Avas pronounced. At other times, disputes, or crnnes, were judged by the duel. The adverse parties pleaded as combatants, and accusations were to be made good by a champion. Each monastery had one to defend its interests ; the lawyers of those days were gladiators. Charlemagne substituted the chil) for the sword in these combats, but afterwards the serfs were the only parties who used the club. The witnesses, even the iudges tiiem- selvcs, were often obliged to fight. Religious core- monies preceded these trials, which were derived 'from the Burgundians, a German nation. The Romans had popularised the Latin language in the Gallic provinces ; the Franks and" other bar banans corrupted it. There resxdtcd a dialect named liommicsquc, in which the Latin i>re(lominated, bu^ largely mixed with Celtic, Teuto)nc, and Gothic After eight centuries of i)ohshing, this language haa become tlu; modern French. 10 HISTORY OF FRANCE. DKCAY OF THE EMPIRE UNDER CHARLES THE BALD. THE FEUDAL SYSTEM. Under Louis, the monarchy, though torn by intes- tine divisions, maintained itself against foreign attacks ; hut under his son, Charles the Bald, the whole fiibric fell to pieces. He was weak and cowardly, and his reign was one continued series of calamities. After the death of their father, the tliree brothers still waged war against each other. The one who bore the title of emperor, was defeated by the others at the battle of Fontenay, in Burgmidy, in which 100,000 men perished. The bishops, who then disposed of the crown, deposed him, and mado a ncv/ partition. At this period, the Danes, or Nordmans, were a frightful scourge to France. They pillaged half the kingdom, burned Paris, and, like the emperors of degenerate Rome, Charles was reduced to offer them money to induce them to -w-ithdraw, which only served to stimu- late them to fresh inroads. With every year new fleets of brigands landed on the coasts, and the king overwhehned the people with imposts to satisfy their rapacity. In the midst of the disorder, the nobles and the bishops were engaged in a contest for power. (846.) The first prevailed, in an assemVtly to Avliich the people were not admitted ; the latter revenged themselves by deposing the king (858), and giving his cro\vn to his brother, whom they afterwards ex- commimicated. Thus, the priests and nobles were solely occupied in disputing and dividing amongst themselves the spoils of the people, whilst the pirates were carrying fire and sword through the land. The King of Lorraine narrowly escaped being despoiled of his kingdom by excommmiication (860), because he had divorced his -^vife. It was at this time that Bald- win, a French lord, who was likewise excommunicated for the abduction of Charles's daughter, received from that king the county of Flanders, which he trans- mitted to his descendants. It is neoessary to explain here how a new kind of government was established, which inflicted so much misery on the hiunan species. At the era of the Frank conquest, the provinces were governed by Roman oflicers named counts, or companions of the emperor, and sometimes commands were given to dukes, or genends. The kings con- tinued to nommate the same civil and military fimc- tionaries, who presided over the administration of justice, and commanded the provinciid militia. Amidst the chaos of Charles the Bald's reign, they rendered themselves independent of the royal power, and even ■wrung from his weakness an hereditary property in their functions. By such means a new government was established, or rather the government was divided amongst so many members as it had employed agents, into as many monarchies as there were provinces. The king, however, was considered the supreme head ; but his power was illusory — force was required to confirm it ; and where force is ever necessary, it be- comes a state of perpetual war. This political sj'stem was based on the principle of fidelity. The inferior was cidled a vassal, and the superior, suzerain or lord. The king was the vassal of no one, unless of God, as it was said, and his vassals had imder them other vassals of whom they were the lords -, and these subdivisions were infinite. The fief was a sort of usufruct ; the lord granted it to the vassal under burden of following him in war ; and in return he guaranteed him security and protection. There could be no order in such a system, except when the reci- procal obligations were reUgiously guarded; it was, in truth, an organi.sed insubordination. The villeins, or rustics, were not vassals, but subjects of the lord ; and when required by him, they were boiuid to march under his banner. In this political ladder, each grade had direct authority only over the grade imtnediately below it. Such is the exposition, so far as it is pos- «dble to conipross into a few words what is but indifferently elucidated in huge volmues, of that grotesque political system which is known by the name of the feudal. DECAY OF THE ROYAL POWER AND OF THE CARLO- VINGIAN RACE. ESTABLISHMENT OF THE NORMANS The weakness of Charles was surpassed by lois successors, who sank into almost complete nonentity. Their names and periods of existence are all they furnish to history. Louis the Stammerer was son to Charles the Bald (877). Louis III. and Carloman succeeded hun after his death. In their time a lord erected a petty kingdom in Provence. The Stammerer left another son, named Charles, five years old. The crown was offered in 884 to Cliarles the Fat, who reigned in Germany with the title of emperor. The Normans, who had never ceased their depredations, laid siege to Paris. Odon, or Eudes, who was Count of Paris, made a valiant defence. After withstanding a siege of two years, the emperor marched to his relief with an army, but the Normans intimidated him, and he was fain to purchase a peace. He died amidst universal contempt, a superstitious terror oi the devil having previously reduced him to madness. The Count Eudes then accepted the ci'own (888), as guardian of the yoimg Charles, when he might have seized it for himself. Charles IV., called the Simple, occupied the throne on the death of Eudes in 898, after having shared it wilh him for a short interval. It was at this epoch tluit the pirates of the north estabUshed themselves in that part of France called Neustria, and which took from them the name ol Normandy. Thus the descendants of the Franks, weakened by feudalism, had to submit, in their turn, to the affront their ancestors had given the Romans. The king sent to their chief, Rollo, his daughter, and an invitation to become a Christian (911). Tiie Norman willingly testified his acquiescence, but he refused, when rendering feudal homage to the king, to kiss his foot. One of his oflicers who undertook that formahty, performed it in such a manner that he nearly threw Charles upon his back. This scornful demeanour only excited a smile — to such a point had the feudal system reduced France. However, RolJo rendered Normandy prosperous. Tliat foiTner robber chief enacted tlie most severe laws against pillage, and his people turned their attention to agriculture. The minister of Charles the Simple having excited the discontent of his lords, they charged the crime upon the king and dethroned him (922). Rotbert, or Robert, brother of tlie late King Eudes, took his place, but in a battle which the king gave him, he was slain by the royal hand. From this it appears that Charles was, at all events, not deficient in mihtary courage. Hugh, called the Wliite, son of Robert, gained the victory in another battle ; and the king having fled for refuge to the castle of a noble, was there kept prisoner for the remainder of his days. Hugh, who had the title of Duke of France, was indifferent to that of king, and allowed it to be assumed by Raoul, Duke of Burgundy (924), whose reign was a series of intestine wars. A powerful lord had taken it into his head to make his son, a child of five years old, an archbishop, with the approbation of the pope. An eighteen years' war was the consequence, in which the bishops took a prominent part, either in le^'j'ing soldiers or in fidminating excommunications. On Raoul's death, Hugh put in his place the son of Charles the Simple, Louis IV., surnamed Transmarine, because he had been educated in England (9.36). This young king attempted to emancipate himself from his protector, but Hugh soon taught him that a king of feudal France was a shadow. He made him prisoner, but afterwards released him. A (juestion of legitimate right was under discussion in Germany about this time, namely, whether the re- HISTORY OF FRANCE. 11 presentation should go in the direct line, and a grand- son thus exclude his uncles from tlie throne. The case was decided by a duel between two champions. The champion of tlie direct representation prevailed, since which time the grandson has always stood in the place of his deceased father. Louis having died in 954, Lothaire, his son, took the crown. Hugh made no opposition, and died two years after, transmitting his power to Ins son Hugh Capet.* Lothaire, who had some strength of mind, recovered a portion of authority over the feudal lords. Under his reign, Lorraine, which for a hundred years was a subject of contest between the Frencli and Ger- man monarchs, was abandoned to tlie Emperor Otho, who did homage for it to I>othaire, as his suzerain. (a. d. 9S6.) Louis V. succeeded him after his death. He reigned a year, and was the last of the Carlovin- gian kings. The brother of I>othaire ought to have succeeded his nephew, according to the principles of legitimacy ; but Hugh Capet, being duke of France, and sufficiently powerful, had himself proclaimed king by his vassals and friends (987). The other dukes and counts, who attached very little importance to the royalt}' of that age, gave him no disturbance in his assumption of the regal title. They did not consider themselves the less his equals on that account. ACCESSION OF THE RACE OF THE CAPETS.— DESPOTISM OP TIli; MONKS. Hugh Capet was, as has been stated, grand-nephew of Count Eudes, who had been king. This Eudes was the son of one Robert the Strong, a man of surpassing bravery, who had been sent by Charles the Bald into Anjou to defend it against the Normans, and there met a glorious death in battle.f Hugh did not feil to have himself consecrated and crowned at Rheims ; and adopting the precaution usual with men founding a new dynasty, he associated his son Robert with him, in order to secure to him the succession to the throne. The legitimate pretender endeavoured to make good his right by force of arms, but he Avas made prisoner at Laon, and died two years afterwards (996). Hugh closed his career at Paris, much regretted by the priests and soldiers, whom he had equally favoured ; the people were held as unworthy of regard. The elevation of the Cajiets was owing to feudal anarchy, and with King Hugh feudalism mounted the throne. He sent one day to ask a revolted noble, " Mlio made thee a coimt ?" to wliich the other replied, " Who made thee a king ?" Robert was a very devout and a very imfortunate prince. He was the relation of his wife in the fourth degree, and had been her godfather. Although the bishops had granted a dispensation, the i)ope judged the union incestuous, annulled the marriage, and sus- pended the prelates, who exconnnunicated the king, notwithstanding his regularity in chanting tlie ser- vices. He was thereupon abandoned hy aU his lords, and shunned ])y his domestics, who were afraid to touch him, and threw the remains of his food into the fire. He was no longer a king, nor even a man, in the eyes of his fanatical subjects. How could a regidar government exist with such ideas ? Tiiis ,'same prince, after imdergoing penance, allowed unfortunate people * These ITiiclis, counts of Paris and dukes of Fnince, liad seized upon several of the richest abbeys, and enjoyed tlioir revenues, as the lay lords of that age had little scruple induing. They even took the title of abbot. Tlie surname of Caj)et (Cappatus) came, it is said, from the cope they wore as possessors of the Abbey of St Martin of Tours. t Genealogists have composed many vnlunies on the origin of Ihis Robert; some have asserted him a Frank, others a (iuul, a '^'^isigoth, and a Saxon. Louis XIV. was desirous that his descent from the Franks should be established. His history ni:iy be read in the " Historical Inquu-ies upon Anjou," by J. V. liodin, de- puty of the Maine ana Loii'c. who rejected the mysteries they were unable to com- prehend, to be condemned and burnt. His second wife. Constance, was a fury, who drove his two sons to revolt (1026). He had caused one of them, Henry, to be crowned. Under his disastrous reign, a frightful famine desolated the laud, and the people ate human flesh. Henry L had to sustain a contest with the queen- mother Constance (1031), who stirred up his brother against him. He afterwards attempted to wrest Nor- mandy from the young Duke "William, Avith whose father he had formerly found an asylum, but he was defeated. His reign is remarkable from the inii versa] sovereignty of the popes being solemnly proclaimed in it. Leo IX. held a council in France in spite of Henry, in which the pope was declared supreme head of the church, and France was afterwards often governed by legates. In 1059, the king wishing to have his son crowTied, assembled the bishops, monks, and lords, to procure his previous election. The le- gates granted him their sutfrage, and the permission of the pope. It is thus evident that the crown of France was almost purely elective at that period. The state of France at this epoch claims a notice. Pure feudalism was at its height — that detestable system which weighed upon France for nearly three centm-ies, and reduced the human species to the last degree of misery. The whole population had become serfs or slaves. Their condition was scarcely superior to that of beasts. Every lord could strike, mutilate, and even slay his serf, with impunity. Many free men voluntarily renoimced their liberty, to shroud themselves from the vexations of the lords in the ignoble but defended state of serfage. The ancient maxim, 7io land without a lord, proves that the nobles disregarded all rights of property, and plundered wherever they were able, for they were in fact robbers \)y condition. Such was the dreadful consequence of feudalism, that men were compelled to be either op- pressors or oppressed. The clergy, generally at war with the lords, pillaged the people equally -with the latter. Brute force or rehgious fear was the sole instrument of influence. Justice was out of the question, in a society where disputes were judged and injm-ies redressed by an appe;d to arms. The use of horses for war, which had been almost unknown to the Franks, was the exclusive privilege of the nobles, as well as the bearing of arms. A lord on horseback, and cased in iron, made a whole district tremble. The serfs, who were driven by blows to war, fought on foot. Overwhelmed -with compulsory labour, tolls, fines, and taxes of all sorts, imposed by the nobility or the chtrrch, degraded by seignorial rights revolting to decency and nature, their existence Avas the most deplorable that can be conceived, and they nuist have fought only with the desperate hope of esi;aj)ing from their galling fetters. The people of the comitry were Cidled villeins, those of the towns bm\]hers. None in either class could i)roduce for individual profit ; tdl was the property of the lord, wlio often quartered hunself upon them, and lived at discretion with his vien, Serjeants, and rarlets. These latter were aspirants to the profession of knighthood, or of a man-at-arms. The lords likewise fought incessantly amongst them- selves; their declarations of war included all relations and idhes. A family quarrel often steeped a wliule province in ])lo()d for thirty years. The state of war was in trutli the habituid state of all; every castle, every abbey, was a fortress and a den for plunder ; 100,000 rutfians roamed over the face of tl'.e country, issuing from their strongholds and retreating to them with their booty, and rendering all France one vast field of l)attle. At last the carnage antl devastation wearii'd even the ferocity of chivalry. Tlie expeiiient of a council was adopted to impose on the belligerents what was called the peace of God, as that of man was not to be anticii)ated. Tlie bishojis ordained fasts and penances, during which humanity had a respite 12 HISTORY OF FRANCE. But this peace, for wliich the truce of God was substi- tuted, wliicli prohibited all fighting from Saturday- evening to Monday morning, soon fell into disregard. It was a miracle that the brigands paused eveu for a time. Such were the results of tluit monstrous feudal sys- tem, a veritable anarchy of the sword, tempered occa- sionally by priestly anathemas. FIRST CRUSADE.— POWER OF THE MONKS. (a. d. 1060.) The long reign of Pliihp I., son of Henry, is an era of remarkable events. William the Bastard, Duke of Normandy, passed the channel (1066) and conquered England, where he established a harsh tyranny combined with feudalism. He had the firm- ness to refuse homage to the pope. A joke of the French king upon the obesity of William, provoked a war, whence the long enmities between France and England are dated. Normandy and Beance were the first fields of battle. The quarrels between the emperors and the popes coricerning investitures, began also at this period. The imperious and turbulent Hildebrand, as Gregory VII., originated them. He was the pontiff who issued a decree that eiiiperors and kings were to fall at his feet, and who extended his absolute power over the church itself. King Philip being disgusted vdth Bertha, his wife, got genealogists to prove that she was his relation in some remote degree, and, according to the usage of the age, dismissed her. He then abducted and espoused Bertrade, Countess of Anjou, of whom he was enamoured. Being excommunicated by Urban II. (1095), he separated himself from Bertrade, but subsequently took her back, and the greatest disorder resulted from the papal anathema upon the act. Another pope came to Poitiers to promulgate it afresh in a council, at which the nobles and bishops pelted each other with stones. The anathema declared re- bellion to Philip acceptable to God. But the lords who had changed their wives, like the king, took his part. He himself, a brave and prudent prince, asso- ciated his son Louis in the government, the better to enable him to ride out the storm ; but Bertrade grew jealous of his infiuence, and attempted to poison him. At length the bishops thought it for their interest to give the king absolution (1104), which he went to receive, by the gracious permission of the pope, in frost and with bare feet, in a council held at Paris. In the state of brutal torpidity to which feudalism had reduced the human race, a shock was needed to arouse it, and the want was opportunely supplied by religious enthusiasm. A pope had already conceived the idea of conquer- ing the Holy Land — that is to say, Palestine — and a hermit was destined to realise it. Peter having re- turned from the pilgrimage of Jerusalem, which was then in great esteem, traversed all Europe, preaching m courts, in towns, and in councils, and succeeded in exciting a burning zeal for the holy sepulchre, and against the Mahometans who taxed pilgrims. So dismal was the condition of society, that a project so full of hazard was embraced with avidity; — the serfs to escajjc from slavery, the vassals to get rid of the tyranny of the suzerains, debtors to wipe off obliga- tions by indulgences — all to gain paradise. Old men, women, children, princes, monks, lords, bishops, began their march, crying, It is the will of God! On their garments they wore a cross of red stuff, and thus they were called Crusaders. This undiscii)lined multitude, liaving Peter for their general, spread devastation upon its line of march, slaughtered all Jews, and found a grave in Hungary. A body of 30,000 men, the remnant of a rognxlar feudal army, took Jerusalem in 1099, and made one of its leaders, Godfrey of Bouillon, king thereof. This was what is called the first crusado. These extravagances, arising from a mixture of the devout and the warUke spirit, were ultimately useful to Inrmanity, though causing such a deluge of blood. The people were delivered from the presence of a great many lords, and these sold a part of their lands to the king, in order to defray the expenses of their expedition. Relieved from them, the royal power began to be established somewhat more firmly. The prowess of the Norman and French knights in England and Judea possesses a tinge of the marvellous, which romancers and poets have not failed to carry to an exaggerated pitch. A handful of Norman knights likewise conquered and founded the kingdoms of Naples and Sicily. To the Crusades is attributed the use of armorial bearings, which served to distinguish the chiefs amongst themselves, and to secure their recognition by their retainers. At the same time the Arab numerals came into use, an invention somewhat more useful than armoriiil bearings. During this period the ecclesiastical power was almost exclusively exercised by the Benedictine monks, who, from the reformation of Cluny in 910, had de- clared they owed obedience only to the pope. They were the miUtia of Rome at that era. The secular clergy were nearly all married. Owing to the weak- ness of the royal powei', the election of bishops was re-established. It was about this time that the worship of images was introduced, as likewise the usage of confession, which had formerly been restricted to ecclesiastics. FIRST RISE OF THE BOROUGHS UNDER LOUIS THE FAT. The domain of the kings of France did not then extend beyond fifteen or twenty leagues round Paris. Louis VI., called the Fat (1108), had, upon his acces- sion, to fight in the district of Orleans, in Normandy, and in the Isle of France, against the barons his neigh- bours, formidable brigands, who robbed travellers. The reduction of one of them required him thrice to lay siege to a feudal castle. In a war against Eng- land, the advantages were divided between the French and Normans, in spite of the courage exhibited by Louis. The emperor, who was son-in-law to the King of England, took part Avith his relative, and marched to the invasion of France (1124). Louis summoned the great vassals of the crown, who were bound to serve under the royal standard* against a foreign enemy. They formed an army of 200,000 men. ar»^ the Germans repassed the Rhine. The French might have then overwhelmed the Anglo-Normans, but the dukes and counts, afraid of rendering the king's power too great, all betook themselves home, and left liim without an army. Although Louis was very pious, he coidd not escape excommunication, wliich was pronoimced against him by the Bishop of Paris. He died in 1137, after securing the coronation of his sou The most important event of his reign, was the melioration which began to take place in the lot of the miserable people. Divers insurrections had oc- curred in towns possessed by the clergy or the barons within tlie royal domain. The king, imablc or unwill- ing to repress the insurgents, judged it more advisable to make them usef\d allies. Being himself perpetually at war, and incapable of protecting them from the invasions of his neighbom-s, he found it expedient to give tliem liberty to defend themselves. They were authorised to assemble and name their om'u magis- trates, even whilst they were forbidden to change their place of abode, or marrj' without the permission of the lord. They fixed their taxes, composed their militiii, and, shut up within their ramparts, could breathe somewhat in peace. These little democracies, thus * It w:is then the Orifl.ammc, the banner of the Abhey of Sr Deni.s. IMiracuIoiis virtues were attribute'l to it, wjiich may be deemed fabulous, as well as the hoi)' blister, and the power which our ancestors believed possessed by the kings of France, from the timo of Louis VI., of curing the evil. HISTORY OF FRANCE. 13 independent of their lords, under certain restrictions, were called boroughs (conununes). They had, however, to pay for the charters by which the king granted them these privileges, but it was a mighty tiling to gain them at all, for they excited infinite choler amongst the barons, bishops, and monks, who looked upon themselves as deii-auded by the crown. Afterwards, several feudal suzerains followed the king's example, and, as a means of replenishing their coffers, sold liberty to the serfs in the towns of their lordships. In many places the Ijurghers rose in arms, and esta- blished their freedom of themselves. The plebeians were thus enabled to enjoy comparative repose, and pm-sue industrial avocations. But hberty was re- stricted to the walls of the enfranchised towns ; and the better to maintain it, they placed themselves as nmch as possible under the protection of the king, who mcreased his own strength by forming a close union with them. He attached them to him still more, by establishing appeals from the seignorial courts, in certain cases, to the royal judges, who de- fended the people against feudal oppression. In the previous century, the bishops had drawn the greater proportion of causes before the ecclesiastical tribimals, which, bad as they were, were better than those of the lords. SUGER.— CONQUESTS OF PHILIP AUGUSTUS.— THE ALBIGEXSES. (a.d. 11.37.) Louis VII., sm-named the Young, by marrying Eleanor, heiress of Aquitaine and Poitou, enlarged the domain of the crown for a period. In a war against the Count of Champagne, he set fire to a church, by which 1300 persons were burned to death. A fanatic, called Saint Bernard, who was not without genius, having iireached a second crusade, Louis was suddenly struck with remorse, and, in a paroxysm of pious zeal, he assumed the cross, together with his queen, his court, and 200,000 men. This second crusade had no better result than the devastation of the coun- tries through wliich it journeyed. Still, it was useful in another sense. A foundling, named Suger, who had become abbot of St Denis, at a time when abbots were the counsellors of kings, was regent of the king- dom, and pursued the policy commenced hy Louis the Fat, whose minister he had been. Suger was admi- rably fitted for athninistration, since his attention was mainly directed to the interests of the people ; he rendered France as flourishing as was possible in that age. But the king, on his return, committed, contrary to his advice, the faidt of divorcing his wife. She espoused Henry Plantagenet, who already possessed Anjou and Normandy, and subsequently became King of England. She carried him, as her portion, the thiru of France ; thus, an antipathy between a man and his wife changed the extent of two kingdoms. The sons of the King of England having revolted against their father, Louis assisted them, but without advantage. After exhibiting himself simply as a devout and im- prudent king, he died. (1180.) His son, Philip II., surnamed Augustus, began his reign by a proceeding which was too much in accordance with those times of superstition and robbery to be at all surprising. The Jews were masters of the little commerce which was then carried on, since their political position forced them to habits of industry ; the king expelled them from his domi- nions by an edict. He showed great firmness in a dispute with the Count of Flanders. He exterminated the banditti called Biahantcrs, and refused obedience to a legate of tlie pope. He defeated the King ol' England, who held the half of France, and took the cross, in unison with his successor Richard the Lion- hearted, to recover Jerusalem from the famous Saladin. (1189.) These two kings, however, succeeded only in taking St Jean d'Acre. On his return, Philip invaded Normandy during the absence of Richard. Having divorced his wife, he was excommunicated by the pope, and his kingdom put imder interdict, that is to saj% mass and the ofiices of religion were no longer performed, meat was forljidden to be eaten, marriages were put off, and commmiication by speech sternly interdicted (1200). Philip had sense enough to de- spise the interdict, and he seized upon the bishops' temporalities. He performed another energetic action. John Lacklands, King of England, had murdered his competitor the young Arthur. Philip caused him to be judged by his court of peers as a vassal of France, and procured a declaration that Normandy, Anjou, Touraine, &c., reverted the cro-\vn, Avhich judgment he put in execution with an army. The French royalty, dilapidated by the feudal system, thus began to resume its strength. A fourth crusade which took place at this period (1204), residted in the temporary conquest of the Greek empire instead of the Holy Land. The cru- saders crowned their leader Baldwin at Constanti- nople. A more deplorable crusade was du-ected against the Christians of the south of France, wlio were named Alhigenses (120S). They were exterminated by thou- sands, and consumed at the stake, because they hesi- tated to believe in certain mysteries. Pope Innocent III. having offered the crown of England to Philii), John, on his part, surrendered his kingdom to the pope, who thereupon became his pro- tector. A formidable league threatened Philip. John, the Count of Flanders, and the emperor, collected 200,000 men. Philip, with 50,000, beat them in the field of Bovines(1214). A French bishop distinguished himself in that flmious battle, by knocking out enemies' brains with an iron club. In the twelfth century the human mind made va- rious efforts to emerge from the darkness in which it lay buried. Schools began to be established in the seats of episcopacy. That of Paris soon became the most celebrated in Europe, though the mstruction it gave was very imperfect. Three thousand students listened in the open air to the lectures of the logician Abelard, the lover of Helo'ise, names immortalised by a passion which seems too sublime for so gross an age. Truth was then sought for, not in nature and reason, but in the absurd precepts of Aristotle ; professors were not reasoners, they were only casuists. During this age chivalry was in most flom-ishing condition in palaces and castles, and if the people were oppressed, they had the satisfaction of suffering from the most gallant men in the world. The Troubudours were ever on the alert to sing the praises of beauty and love, opening the career of poetry to Dante and Petrarch, the fathers of modern Italian literature. Philip .\u- gustus was the first of the French kings who kept paid troops on foot, thereby giving another blow to feudalism. The crusaders had brought a frightful malady from Asia, which covered France with lepers. As to contagious pestilences, tliey were in that age as common as famines. The incessant wars, interrupt- ing cultivation, produced scarcity and mortality, and the unburied corpses tainted the air, and engendered the plague. Thus one scourge brought on another. KEIGNOF LOUIS IX.-JUSTICE BEGINS TO DISPLACE THE FEUDAL FEUOCITV. (a. d. 1223.) Louis VIII., called the Lion, overcame the King of England, who attempted to re-establish his power in France, and then made war on the Count of Toulouse, with the intention of despoiling him oi his dominions, under the pretext that he regarded heretics with an indulgent eye. He was not success- fid in his project, and, in 122S, died, leaving his son, twelve years' old, on the throne, and his widow, Blanche of Castille, regent of the kingdom. Tlie young Louis, whom the church lias designated Saint Louis, was in reidity as excellent a prince as bis HISTORY OF FRANCK times permitted. Tosrether with personal bravery and political courage, iie liad the constancy of a true Christian. He twice overcame the English, who had supported a rebellious vassal in Saintonge. The pope, who had excommunicated the emperor, being driven from Rome, came to seek an asylum in France. Louis had the fimmess to refuse assistance to this disturber of the pubUc peace, wlio thereupon betook himself to Lyons, a town of which the archbishop was feud:il lord. (1245.) However, this same king, being threatened with death, took a vow to prosecute a crusade. Neither the queen nor the bishops could alter his resolution, and Louis departed upon his expedition, which was in every sense disastrous. He was taken prisoner in Egypt, and had to pay an enormous ransom. At the death of his mother, "he returned to France, and de- voted himself to the administration of liis kingdom. He maintained peace amongst the great vassals of the crown, as far as he was able, and often yielded to the pretensions of the kings his neighbours, rather than plunge the country into war. Never was a king with a more scrupulous conscience, or more enamom-ed of concord. The English barons wishing to depose their king because he infringed the great charter, Louis was chosen arbiter between them, and gave his decision for the maintenance of all liberties compatible with the royal authority. The pope having placed the King of the Two Sicilies under interdict, offered the crown to Louis IX.'s brother, who held the county of Anjou as an appanage, reserving to himself an annual tribute. The comat accepted the gift (1266), and passed into Italy with a host of volunteers, who assumed the cross because they fought in the name of the pope, and believed they were performing a work of piety in dethroning an excommunicated prince. Najiles was speedily conquered, and the usm-per cut off the head of the legitimate king. France enjoyed a certain prosperity for so miserable an age, owing'to the wisdom of the king, who seques- trated the temporahties of the bishops when they op])ressed the people too grievously, but who, never- theless, would have become a Franciscan monk but for the remonstrances of the queen. He still kept the cross on his garments, intending to proceed on a second crusade, which he finally determined ujOTn in spite of his advanced age and the entreaties of his counsellors. Persuaded that he could easily convert the King of Tunis, he disembarkeil in Africa (1270), and after witnessing the destruction of his army under its burn- ing sun, he himself died in miserable plight. . The reign of Louis IX. was an era of great political ameliorations. The capitularies of Charlemagne hav- ing fallen into disuse, no written laws prevailed, and the greatest confusion resulted from the various local cuntoms which held the place of laws. Louis framed a code of establishments for that part of France directly under his sway, in which the judicial duel was abo- lished, and numerous improvements in the admini- stration of justice were instituted, by which the vicious proceedhigs of the barons and tlieir courts were miti- gated or annulled. The family feuds, which included all the relations of the belligerents, were interdicted under penalty of forfeiture. The right of coining money, which a great number of lords had usurped, was restricted. The code of Justinian, discovered at that time, became known in France, but was proscribed by the clergy. The priests, or clerks, being the only instructed class, peribrmed the functions of advo- cates, and even practised medicine. When a person died intestate, and the church was thereliy baulked of the legacy, which was almost indispensable in testa- ments, it confiscated the vthole succession, and beggared the family of the defunct. Louis's establish- ments abrogated this infamous abuse. This king was in truth the restorer of justice, but his religious zeal ollen carried him to absurd lengths. He pronounced inliuman pimishments upon those who ventured to swear by the name of God, or of any of the saints. He exhii)ited, however, an unbroken firmness In op- posing the grasping despotism of the popes ; in liis famous ordinance, called the Pragmatic Sanction, he asserted the maxim that the kingdom depended on God alone. ESTABLISHMENT OF NATIONAL ASSEMBLIES UNDER PUILIP THE HANDSOME. — THE TEMPLARS. — PAR- LIAMENT OF PARIS. After the death of Louis, his son, Philip III., con- thiued tlie war against the Tunisians, and granted them peace upon their paying tribute. Such was the conclusion of the last of those distant expeditions which depopulated Europe. The young king returned to France, and miited to the crown the vast possessions of his uncle, the Count of Poitiers, who had died with- out issue. He allowed himself at first to be governed bj' his father's barber ; but that person having excited unjust suspicions against the queen, he was convicted of treason, and hanged. The most remarkable event in this reign occurred out of France. The Sicilians, determined to throw off the oppressive yoke of Charles of Anjou, arose at the hour of vespers and massacred all the French attached to the fortunes of the new king (1282). This slaughter extended itself over the whole of Sicily. The King of Arragon then endea- voured to seize upon the island, which drew upon him a i)apal excommimication ; a crusade was even preached against him. Philip put himself at the head of the crusaders against this Christian prince, and after taking Gironne by a tedious siege, he returned to Perpignan, and died (1285). Upon his death, two monasteries disinited the possession of his heart; rather a small matter, one woidd think. Philip IV., surnamed the Handsome, his son, suc- ceeded him. Edward I., King of England, rendered him homage for Guienne, which he acknowledged to possess as a vassal of the French crown. But dis- putes occurring between the two nations, Philip cited Edward to his court, and, upon contumacy, poured an army into Guienne, and reduced it (1295). War after- wards broke out with the Comit of Flanders, who had made an alliance with Edward. The English were con- quered, and Flanders subdued. Boniface VIII., a pope whose arrogance was quite equal to that of any of his predecessors, was the next antagonist whom Philip en- countered. The cause of the quarrel was an attempt of the king to lay a slight tax upon the clergy, as he was in great distress for money, and the people were utterly incapable of supplying the incessant demands made upon them. The pope forbade the ecclesiastics to contribute the smallest coin to the necessities of the state, and Philip, in return, forbade his subjects to pay any thing to the pope. Peace was at length re- stored; the pope undertook to canonise Louis IX., and a trilling impost was granted him for the glory of St Peter. However, it was not long before the insolent pre- tensions of the j)ope were renewed ; a French bishop, his legate, carried his impertinence to such a pitch that tlie king drove him from his presence. The pope, furious at the insult, fulminated fresh bulls, and sum- moned the king, under the penalty of having his king- dom ])laccd mider interdict, to acknowledge himself king by the grace of the pontiff. Philip, far from being intimidated, answered with boldness; and desirous of finding supjiort in the nation, he convoked a national assembly (1290). This is one of the most important events in the French annals. The assemblies usual in the earlier times of the monarchy liad fallen into complete oblivion. Following the example of the King of England, Philip caused the deputies of the boroughs to form part of it ; they were then styled the third estate. The three orders voted separately to maintain the independence of the crown; the clergy made an attempt to influence a conciliatorj' demeanour HISTORY OF FRANCE. 15 towards the pope, but the nobles opposed it. As to the third estate, it was overwhchned with astonish- ment at its being honoured with consultation ; but money being wanted, and the people the supplying source, their presence was judged necessary. An old historian of France has said on this subject something new : — " Diets are excellent expedients to governments for obtaining subsidies." The pope repUed by calling a coiuicil, in which he procured the assertion of the sovereign right as vested in the tiara. The king retorted by an assembly of nobles and bishops, in which the pope was accused of impostiu-e and heresy. Thereupon, excommimication was thmidered forth, and the crown of France offered to a prince of Austria. The pope was carried otf by the French partisans, then set at liberty, and finally died in transports of rage. He had instituted the jubilee, v/hich di-ew thousands of pilgrims to Rome, and vast sums from the whole of Christendom. During the course of these events, the Flemings had revolted under a weaver, and massacred the French. The Count d'Artois lost against the insurgents the battle of Courtrai, in which 20,000 Frenchmen perished. The king then marched in person, was unsuccessful, and fo'and himself obhged to reinstate the Comit of Flanders, with the reservation of cei-tain towns. The excommunication was shortly afterwards taken off by the last pope's successor. The process against the Templars, a religious and military order founded during the crusades, was a famous event in this reign. Philip the Handsouie pursued their destruction with an inveteracy for which we cannot account, and which seemed equally participated in by the pope. They were siiddenly ar- rested throughout the whole of France (1307) ; they were questioned mider torture, and the rack compelled them to avow the crimes that were fixed upon them. When its anguigh ceased, some of them retracted their confessions, and were accordingly consumed before slow fires (1312). The order was abolished, and the possessions given to the hospitallers, since the order of Malta. The grand-master and great officers, con- demned by a papal commission, were burnt alive, all protesting their innocence, amidst the flames, to the last moment. "WTiat caused this frightful atrocity? The Templars were accused of detestable crimes, but all that we know of their offences is that they were rich, haughty, and debauched. Were those who burnt them one whit better ? Philip had overtvhelmed the people with imposts, ruined credit by debasing the coin, and expelled the Jews to seize their wealth. The generiU discontent grew to such a height as to threaten an insurrection. Chagrin gnawed his heart, and killed him. To him are owing the convocation of the states-general, the union of Lyons to France, and the parliament being rendered stationary at Paris. Formerly it was a travelling tribunal, which followed the king, and was composed of noblemen nominated by him. As these men of the sword could neither read nor write, they associated in their judicial labom-s men conversant in the law, who attended them in the capacity of coun- sellors. By degrees, the nobles withdrew and left the lawyers to judge alone. The peers, the gi-eat territo- rial lords, or high domestics of the court, who were the Icudes of the first race, or the barons and great vassals of pure feudalism, had right of entry to the parliament. The assembly itself was, properly speak- ing, the tribunal of the king. From the time of Louis IX., the parliament had cognizance of all the appeals of the kingdom. He recognised the excellent prin- cijtles of justice laid down in the Roman code, created forms of legal procedure, rendered the study of law necessary, and drew to the men of letters and legal knowledge a part of the authority usurped by ignorant soldiers. It is not generally known tliat the Pandects of Justinian inflicted the greatest blow on feudalism. After havmg gone through the thirteenth century, if we cast cm- eyes backwards we wiU find that the human species made some progress towards civilisa- tion during its course. Under Louis IX., a library was collected. Roger Bacon, an English monk, a prodigy for that age, divined a portion of the physical sciences ; he invented the camera obscura. His brutal contemporaries took him for a magician. Contemp- tible parodies, exhibited on scaffolds under the name of wijtAeries, were essays which had at least the merit of preparing the way lor Racine and Moliere. Theo- logical disputes and scholastic casuistry stiU continued, and the Sorbonne was founded ; but the burglier youth acquired ideas and habits of anti-feudal independence even amidst the disorders of a university education, and the brotherhoods, or guilds, advantageous at the period of their institution, provided it with the means, and conferred upon it the force, of political organisa- tion. The provosts and magistrates were accustomed to resistance against arbitrary power ; and the third estate, erected into a political order, began to acquire consistence, and the royal power foimd it useful to cultivate its alliance. ENFRANCHISEMENT OF THE PEASANT-SERFS.— REVERSES UNDER PHILIP OF VALOiS. The royal authority, which had made great strides under Philip the Handsome, Avas successively exer- cised by his three sons within a short period. Louis X., surnamed Hiitin, condemned to death the superin- tendant of the finances, EngueiTand de Marigny (1314) ; the proof of his knavery was deficient, so he was accused of sorcery. The king afterwards repented of the iniquity of th^s execution. The most memor- able event of this reign, was the enfranchisement of a great part of the rural serfs (1315).* The king com- menced in his own domains, and the lords gradually followed his example. The preamble of the edict set forth these words — " Inasmuch as, according to the law of nature, every one ought to be born free." However, liberty was sold to the peasants in the same manner as it had been sold to the burghers. Many of them accustomed to slavery were anxious to continue it, finding that liberty in those times was not worth the price charged for it. Tlie want of money has often caused injustice both to be committed and redressed. The Jews were recalled in 1316, in the hope of ex- tracting enormous taxes from them. Philip v., called the Long, who succeeded him in 1319, effected reforms in the administration. He excluded the bishops from the parliament, in which they preserved some influence. He is stated to have projected useful regulations, such as a general system of weights, measures, and cm-rencj-. He disarmed the burghers, in order the riiore sm-ely to suppress the right of private war. He named a captain to com- mand the guard of the to\vns in the ro^'al name ; this burgher militia was a species of national guard, which is of^cn mentioned in the wars of that age. Under his reign horrible cruelties were committed on Jews and lepers, who were charged with most absurd accusa- tions. They were burned by hundreds, as a speedy means of securing their possessions. Foundations for persons afflicted with loi)r()sy were very numerous, and all richly endowed ; in consequence whereof they excited cupidity, and had their goods confiscated. When fanaticism and rapacity move in concert, no limit can be assigned to atrociousuess. It was to tliese spoliating persecutions exjjerienced by the Jews, that the invention of bills trf excliange is' owing, by means of which they could transfer their fortunes from one country to anotiier * There still remained, eren in the reign of Lo\iis X\^. , serfs of mortmnin, at St Claude in Franche-Conite, wlio were enfran- chised by tliat king. Tliey l)clon«ed to monks ! IC HISTORY OF FRANCE. (1322.) Charles IV., called the Handsome, caused several papacious financiers to be punished, as also some noblemen, who, although no financiers, never- theless ruined the people. He made war on the English in Guienne. His sister was the wife of Edward II., Avhom she succeeded in dethroning. The famous Edward III. then assumed the English sceptre. Charles IV. having died without issue, Edward III. claimed the crown of France, as nephew, by his mother, of the last king (1328). The SaUc law, which ex- cluded females, was directly opposed to his preten- sions. The peers decided that Philip of Valois, who Avas descended from St Louis by a younger branch, ought to be preferred. The reign of Philip IV. was a continued chain of calamities. He first of all attempted to reduce the Flemings, who had revolted against their comit under the conduct of a fishmonger. He afterwards suc- ceeded in obtaining homage for Guienne from Edward III., who was not yet prepared for war. But a wretch, his brother-in-law, whom he had justly banished, having taken refuge in England, sthnulated the king to that warfare which became so terrible to France. A fleet, stated to have been 120 vessels strong, and carrying 40,000 men, was defeated by that of Eng- land in the battle of Ecluse (1341), in which Edward himself was present. He afterwards made a descent on the coasts of Normandy, acting under the advice of another traitor, Geoffrey of Harcourt ; and breaking a truce which Philip observed with too much faith, he advanced to the gates of Paris, whence he retired into Picardy, pm-sued by the French, who, yielding to their imprudent impetuosity, attacked him at Cressj\ (1346.) The Genoese bowmen gave way, and threw the French army into disorder, which was defeated, and 30,000 men left dead on the-field of battle. The success of the English was chiefiy owing to their cross-bows, a weapon which the French woidd not use, from an excess of chivakic honour or martial pride, and therefore subsidised foreigners for that service. It is also said that the English used caimon in this combat, which was then a recent invention. After his victory, Edward besieged Calais (1347), which surrendered after suffering the last extremes of famine. To all these reverses were added a famine and a plague, which depopulated France. The latter was general throughout Europe, and cai-ried off, as is alleged, a fourth of the popidation. Discouragement paralysed the exertions of the country. Fanatics, named flayellators, scoured the fields, and scourged their bodies to the gushing of blood, as a propitiation of divine VTath. The king died (1350) a prey to chagrin, and an object of hatred to his subjects. He first established the guhelle, a tax on salt. Under his reign, disastrous as it was, Dauphiny was annexed to France, under condition that the heir-ai>pareut should bear the name of Dauphin. During the same period, Jane of Anjou sold Avignon to the pope. KING JOHN.— niS CAPTIVITY.— THE STATES EXER- CISED THE SOVEREIGNTY.— JACKERIE. John, son of the preceding king, was equally impo- litic, and still more unfortunate. His first act was to cut off the head of the Count d'Eu, his constable, without any one knowing why. He was afterwards exposed to the enmity of a wicked and powerful prince, Charles the Bad, King of Navarre, who inflicted much injury on his dominions. Edward III. likewise carried the war into France again, when John convoked the states-general in order to raise subsidies (13.55). This is one of the most remarkable eras iji French history, and deserves to be specially noted. Philip the Handsome had succeeded in rendering tlie royjil power in some degree absolute ; he had emancipated it from the thraldom of the pope, and strengthened it by summoning the states-general, which had then no idea of their rights. The rivalry existing amongst the three orders coidd not fail to secure the preponderance to the king, even had the states imagined themselves invested with any more formidable character than that of a council appointed to register royal decrees. Now they prepared to take a very different attitude. We Avill not speak here of the states of Langucd'oc, convoked in the south of France, as those of the north, or of Langued'oil, have had the cl)ief influence on affairs. The states of 1355 acted upon the principle that the king had no right to exact any tax without the consent of the nation as represented by them. Thej' determined even to su- perintend their collection and disposition, and sent deputies into the different bailiwicks charged with the perception. They named a permanent commission, composed of three members from each order, to watch over the king's administration during the recess of the sessions. They took the greatest precautions to ensure the advantageous employment of any surplus funds, and to confine tlie king within a limited ex- penditure. They finally decreed a large levy of troops, and called the burgher militias iuto the field. The Prince of Wales, generally called the Black Prince, the son of Edward III., and the great hero of his age, led a desolating horde into France. Being intrenched in an advantageous position near Poitiers with 8000 men, and attacked by John at the head of 60,000, he completely overthrew the French, and took the king prisoner. Charles the Dauphin thereupon convoked the states, which once more exliibited a knowledge of their rights. The three orders were unanimous in their discontent, and they ordered an inquirj' to be made into the causes of popidar com- plaint. A bishop named Lecocq, and jMarcel, the ])ro- vost of the trades, presided over this commission of inquiry. Subsidies were granted only upon condi- tions ; the ministers and counsellors were to be dis- lilaced for deputies taken from the three orders. The court, indignant at this spirit, attempted to collect taxes without the sanction of the states, but the people refused to pay them. The states-general were there- fore again convoked (1356), and it was found necessary to submit to the prescribed conditions. The dauphin put in force a means of gaining money that had often been used by his jiredecessors, namely, the adulteration of the coin, an expedient pregnant with ruin. The people of Paris rose in insurrection, under the conduct of Marcel. The King of Navjirre, who had been imprisoned by the king, escaped, and came to support the i-evolt. The people were alter- nately harangued by liim, the dauphin, and Marcel. The last enjoyed the greatest degi'ee of popularity; he was a patriot, and born in the burgher rank. Charles the Bad was actuated simply by a turbulent ambition, and was used as a mere instrument against the court. Paris was a perfect hotbed of democnicy. The insurgents adopted as a rallying sigJi a red and blue cap. Marcel began even thus earl^' to form a federation between the other towns o^ France and the capital, when tlie dauphin, wIk) liad taken the title of regent, escaped to Compiegne, and convoked the states-gencnd (1358). France was in a state of the most deplorable ilis- order. Taking advantage of the general disorganisa tion, the nobility attempted to reduce tlie peasants under their former yoke of iron, whilst they, on their part, armins themselves with ])itchforks and clubs, pillaged the castles and massacred the nobles, who, collecting in armed bands, revenged themselves upon the midisciphiied multitude. This war of extermina- tion was called Jackerie, from the jacks or jackets worn l)y the peasants. From the height of anarchy, and the excesses of civil war, there is genernlly but one step to absolute power, for all gi-ow weary of evil, and readily concede any inSTORY OF FRANCE. 17 thing for peace and order. Tlie states of Compiegne proved the truth of the remark. It is true that they granted imposts imder th.e titles oi aids and free gifts, but tliey annulled all that the preceding states had done, as the work of the seditious and traitorous. Several of the deputies were condemned to death. Paris was l)lockaded and taken by surrender. Marcel fell by assassination, and the regent made his entry into the capital. A treaty with England restored liberty to John (1.360), who agreed to cede the half of his kingdom, and to pay four millions of gold crowns ; but the ran- som was afterwards reduced to a third of France, and three millions of crowns. Being tmabla to raise this enormous sum, which would have completely drained the country, John returned to London, where he died. He was a man of scrupulous honour, and was accus- tomed to say, that if good faith were banished from other quarters, it should find a sanctuary in the hearts of kings. This phrase is often repeated, and kings woxild do well to be sincerely impressed with its ex- cellence. Having acquired Burgimdy by inheritance, John gave it as an appanage to one of his sons, and thus commenced the famous house of Burgundy. This evil system of appanages onlj'^ tended to divide and weaken France, which was not so strong as to render its further reduction at all necessary. CHARLES V.-DUGUESCLIN. — THE ROYAL POWER REGAINS THE SUPREMACY. — THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY. Wlien Charles V. mounted the throne (1364) the government was almost wholly to reconstruct : he was prudent and able, knowing how to select and employ men of capacity, and succeeded in repairing much of the general evil. Charles the Bad stiU con- tinued his intrigues and injuries, and an excellent warrior, Dug-uescUn, was sent against him and re- pulsed him. The war in the meanwhile raged with unabated fury in Bretagne. Montfort, supported by the English, having gained a victory in which Dugu- esclin was taken prisoner, terms of peace were agreed upon. At th.is era, the class of men pursuing the profession of arms was a complete scourge to the country. Wlien troops were disbanded, it seemed as if so many wild beasts had been unchained, and a new war was necessary to reduce them ; so that peace it- self became the cause of fresh bloodshed and confusion. A campaign in Spain opportunely offering, Dugiiesclin was sent there at the liead of troops, which were re- engaged to rid France of their baneful presence. However, he was again defeated and made prisoner by the redoubtable Black Prince. Charles V. was once more engaged in war with the English, which, under the generalship of Dug-ucsclin, became advantageous for him. 1400 enclosed towns and .3000 fortresses were captured in Aquitaine alone. Fresh treasons on the part of the King of Navarre, and a long disastrous war undertaken against the Duke of Brittany, who was al)ly sustained by his own sub- jects and tlie English, occupied the close of Charles V.'s reign. The schism of the West occurred in his time. When the paptd see was transferred f^oni Avignon to Rome, two and even three poj)es were elected at the same time, and the kings sided with the one or the other as they found it best for themselves. Nunilier- less were the wranglings, the combats, and the scan- dals, wherewith Christianity was overwhelmed. Charles, remembering the sturdy si)irit of the states- general, never convoked them when he became king. He contented himsi'lfwith holding /jcj/s of justice in the parliament, in whicli he caused his decrees to be a])proved of, after a display of asking counsel. His adiinnistration, however, as it is said, was paternal, and historians have snrnamed him the Wise. He was moie engaged in strengthening the royal authority than securing to his people the enjoyment of liberty, and therefore philosophers have passed upon hinc many severe strictures. But, after all, the best of kings are prone to aggrandise their power, the most reasonable of aristocrats desire peculiar privileges, or a siiperiority of influence in the state, and the most moral of pojjulations are drawn into excesses, when they endeavour to repair by force the hardships of the social state, and the inequalities of fortune : good laws alone are above corruption and the influence of passions. In this foiu-teenth century, the human mind made an insensible progress. Whilst the capuchins were disputing, and even fighting, with each other, as to the comparative sanctity of round or pointed hoods, a Neapolitan invented the compass. Charles V. was a friend to learning ; he collected 900 volumes, treat- ing, however, upon astrology in general. The number of universities was increased, but theology and hjgic were the only subjects in repute. Sidlust, Caesar, and some other Latin works, preserved in the monasteries, were translated into French ; the only service that the monks have rendered the human race, is having been its hbrarians and transcribers. MINORITY OF CHARLES VI.— HIS MADNESS.-CIVIL AVAR. (a. d. 1380.) The reign of Charles VL was one of tlie most disastrous in the French annals. On his accession he was under age, and his uncles disputed the regency. The Duke of Anjou, who obtained it, took advantage of his position to enrich himself with the spoils of the nation. He robbed the treasury of its last coin the moment the king reached his majo- rity. The Parisians refused to pay any taxes, and the states-general were convoked as a last resource. They once more proclaimed the principle that taxes were illegal without the consent of the states. They granted certain subsidies, and the court endeavoured to establish others arbitrarily, but the people rose and massacred the officers of revenue. Troojis were marched to Paris, which escaped sacking by paying a heavy contribution. The king, retm-ning from Flan- ders, entered Paris at the head of his army (1385), caused the richest burghers to be arrested, and some of them executed, amongst whom is mentioned a venerable magistrate upwards of seventy years old ; he then declared that all deserved death, but he would limit his vengeance to the exaction of an im- mense ransom. He subsequently placed the Constable Clisson at the head of affairs, to enable him the better to shake off the yoke of his two uncles. The Duke of Bourbon (a descendant of Louis IX. by a junior line), returning, at this time, from an expedition more brilliant than useful he had made in Africa against the Mahometans, e.xcited the imagination of the king, who took up the chimerical idea of a crusade, but got no farther than Italy, where ho went to assist one of the two po])es. In 1392, the Baron of Craon, one of the most formi- dable ruffians who then enjoyed impunity in F/ance, assassinated (^lisson and fled into Brittany, where he was received by the duke. The king, being unable to i)rocure his surrender, marched at the head of an army to take him by force. As he was jinssing throtigh the forest of Mans, a man clothed in white, and of a hideous aspect, suddenly sprang from a thicket, and seizing his horse's head, exclaimed : " Advance no farther; thou art betrayed, oh king I" Such an inci- dent was scarcely needed to turn so weak a brain as Charles VI. 's. He became raging mad. Having re- covered some time after\fards, he relajjsed into de- nuigenient at the end of a masked ball, in wliirli his c'lotlies caught fire. It was in vain that :i pretended magician came forth to cure him; he remained de- mented, with lucid intervals. This malady of the 18 HISTORY OF FRANCE. king was the signal for disorders of the most frightful description. A truce was fortunately concluded with the English (1395), and Richard II. married the daughter of Charles VI. In tlie midst of recriminations and executions, tlic Duke of Orleans was named lieutenant-general of the kingdom, which excited the jealousy and anger of John the Fearless, Duke of Burgundy. Open war was declared between tliese two princes (1404), and two furious ])artics were formed. John advanced with an army against Paris ; the regent and the queen fled, and the conqueror got possession of the dauphin (1407). However, the two foes made afterwards a sliow of reconciliation. They took the connuunion together, and slept in the same bed ; but the regent was sud- denly fallen upon by assassins, and sacrificed. The perfidious Jolin, wlio was unable to deny his crime, departed from Paris, but soon returned to it with his army, and seized upon tlie governme:it, which he exer- cised despotically, holding the king and court in com- plete subjection. The young Duke of Orleans, aided by the Count d'Armagnac, raised his standard to avenge his father's nuirder. War raged in almost every quarter of France, the two parties being called respectively Armagnacs and Biirgundiftns {1411). Tlie king, in an interval of reason, took part against John the Fearless, marched against him witli an army, and put his name to seve- I'al accommodations no sooner signed than broken. Yet greater calamities were in store for France, the recital of which will require a few words of introduc- tion. CONTINUATION OF THE CIVIL WAT?.— THE ENGLISH AT PAKIS.— PERMANENT PAULIAIMENT. It is evident that France, at the period mider review, was solely a field for the ambition of the nobles ; that is to say, for factions. Tliis oligarchical anarchy lasted during the fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteentli centu- ries, and certain characteristics of this new disorder are worthy of observation. In the age of pure feuda- lism, the nobles were independent sovereigns, who despoiled each otlier of their possessions ; but since tlie crown had regained pre-eminence, the great men, for the most part princes of the blood, disputed with eacli other for tlie exercise of tlie royal autliority, and for the wealth of the whole nation. Nothing so elFectually demoralises a people, as factions attached to princes ; it speedily loses sight of its own interests to serve passions which it stupidly participates ; the ruffians alone are the gainers, the mass of the people dupes and victims ; like an inert body, struck by the hammer and repelled by the anvil, it is tossed to and fro between tlie contending parties, and is the inva- riable prey of the conquerors for the hour. Thus exclusively occupied with a civil war without a defin- able object, the French cast not a thought upon the states-general, an institution that miglit have been rendered so powerful a lever of regeneration. They soon experienced one of the inevitable results of court factions, the yoke of the foreigner. The King of England, Henry V., perceived the cir- cumstances auspicious for conquest (141.5). Disem- barking with a small anny, he crossed the Somme ; the French, greatly superior in number, gave him battle at Agiucourt, in a disadvantageous position, and were defeated; but the victory was a sterile honour for the moment, and the English, too weak in force, repassed the channel. The factions arose with in- creased rancour. D'Armagnac treated with Henry V., acknowledging him as King of France. The queen turned to the party of John the Fearless, who delivered her out of a jjrison in which the king had immured her, on account of her debaucheries. John was intro- duced into Paris, his enemies there were put to the sword,* and the executioner became his familiar asso- ciate. At the same time, Henry V. seized upon Nor- mandy. The dauphin had an interview with John on the bridge of iSIontereau, and the latter was assassinated in his turn (1419). The queen imited with John's son in opposition to the dauphin ; Henry V. came to meet them at Troyes, and was there proclaimed regent of the kingdom. He made his entry into Paris with great magnificence, married the daughter of Charles ^'I., and sent a marslial of France to the Bastille for looking him in the face. He died shortly after (1422), and was followed to the grave by Charles VI. The schism in the church stiO continued, there being always two popes. The Council of Constance deposed one of them, and terminated the quarrel. Before separating, the fathers bm-nt John Huss and Jerome of Prague, who had been audacious enough to inter- pret the Gospel for themselves, and to preach refor- mation. They were the precursors of Lutlier. The parliament, which had been formerly named for a year, became permanent, and the counsellors enjoyed the right of presenting new members to the king for appointment. Thence began the influence of that body, which ensured respect by its manners and integrity. We shall see that it subsequently abused its power. THE MAID OF ORLEANS.— CHARLES VII.— FRANCE RECONQUERED. The dauphin (Charles VII.), proscribed by the queen and Henry V., had, in his quality of regent, transferred the parliament of Paris to Poitiers. The marshal de Lafayette had gained for him the battle of Bauge over the EngHsh. Uiion the death of the two kings, his party began to raise its head. The Duke of Bedford, on his part, had himself proclaimed regent of France at Paris for Henry VI., an infant in the cradle. The English possessed more than half of the kingdom, and ranked, as their allies, the powerful Duke of Burgundy and the Duke of Bretagne. Charles VII. was brave, but weak and voluptuous ; he allowed himself to be governed by his companions in debau- chery, and by his mistresses. He at first took a few towns, but lost the battle of Verneuil (1424). Dunois, Lahire, and La TrcmouiUe, were valiant knights, but sad generals. The cause was in its last throes ; Or- leans was besieged, and on the point of sm-rendering, when a young peasant girl, gifted with an exalted imagination, came forward and announced herself as destined by heaven to save France. Her pretensions were laughed at in the first instance, but were subse- quently admitted. She spoke as one inspired, and succeeded in communicating her own enthusiasm. Dressed in a coat of mail, and bearing a banner ia her hand, she marched at the head of the army, and raised the siege. Persuaded that her mission was to crown the king at Rheims, she traversed with him eighty leagues of hostile country, and accomplished her astonishing enterprise. Upon this occasion, reli- gious enthusiasm was productive of s^me good. But fortune abandoned the heroine ; wounded and captured by the English, who wreaked a disgraceful revenge upon her, she was condemned as a sorceress by infa- mous judges, and burnt at Rouen (14.'31). Thus pe- rished Joan of Arc, whose only crime was having saved her country.! * Villaret reports that 3500 persons were massacred in three days in tlie prisons ; the streets and the courts of the palace were flooded with blood. 2000 nobles, following the profession of ai'ins, superintended these septcmbri-erii in their labours, and their lead- ers, the Luxenibourjts, the Ilarcourts, the Chevreuses, &c., en- riched themselves with the spoils of their victims. t The tribunal that condemned her was composed of nmedoctore of the Sorbonne, and of thirty-five abbots and monks, under the l)rt'sid;'ncy of j\I;irtin, Vicar of the Inquisition, and Cauchon, Uishop of licauvaiii. HISTORY OF FRANCE. i9 In the mean time, Henry VI. was crowned at Paris, and Cliarles VII. consmned his feeble resources in festivals ; as Lahire said to him, " No one could lose his kingdom with more gaiet3^" But events took a new asi>ect, and his character rose to a level Avith them. The Duke of Burgundy, weary of Bedford's despotism, and ashamed of his alliance with a foreigner against his own relation, entered into a treaty with Charles \ll. (1435.) Paris opened a gate to him, the English evacuated the capital, and the king made his solemn entry therein. Agnes Sorel, his mistress, sti- miilated his mind to activity ; he signalised himself at Montereau, Normandy was conquered, and the English ultimately driven out of France (1451). The nation had recovered its energy and force in union. The king devoted himself to the re-estabhshment of a system of order m the government during the re- mainder of his reign, which Avas only disturbed by the revolt of the dauphin, a wicked prince, who was after- wards known as Louis XI. The king died in 1461, oppressed with disquiet and chagrin. His mother, the infamous Isabel, had died in misery at Paris dur- ing the occupation of the English. In the course of this reign, a permanent body of cavalry, or gendarmerie, was establislied, as also one of foot archers, paid by a tax levied without consent of the states, which were quite forgotten. The council cf Basle had hmited the power of the popes in 1431, and an assembly of the clergy, held at Bourges, framed in the same spirit the famous Pragmatic Sanction, the charter of the liberties of the GaUican church. It abolished reserves and first fruits, re-estabhshed tlie election of bishops, and prevented the abuse of appeals to the pojje. It was registered by the parliament. I.OTJIS XI.— OPPRESSION OP THE PEOPLE, AND HUMBLING OF THE NOBLES. Louis XL, the prince of dissemblers, began his reign by falling into a snare of the pope, who obtained from him the abolition of the Pragmatic Sanction. That law^ however, so odious to the papal court, remained in partial execution. The king early exliibited his intention of humbling the power of the nobles, the better, doubtless, to oppress the people when relieved from their intervention. They formed against liim a league wliich they called " The Jeagiie of the public good," under a pretext common to all factions. Cliarles the Bold, Duke of Burgundj', in conjunction with the Dukes of Bretagne, Boiirbon, and Berry, fought the bloody but mdecisive battle of Montlheri against the king (1465). But Louis, the ablest politician of his day, finished the war by negotiations, and ultimately resumed possession of Normandy, which he had granted as an appanage to his brother ; a seizure sanctioned by an assembly of the states-general con- voked by him at Tours. England had been long a prey to intestine factions ; but in an interval of repose, its king renewed the old pretensions of his crown on France. Louis maintained peace by engaging to pay a tribute, and indemnified himself in other quarters. He got possession of Anjou, the dominion of Rc'ne of Anjou, King of Sicily, anil annexed it to the crown of France. Provence sliarcd the same fate, at a later date, by the will of Rene's heir. Louis's conquests were all made by the pen and by trickery. However, his astuteness was foiled by the marriage of the heiress of Burgimdy with Maxi- milian of Austria, tlie emperor's son. This alliance brought a potent enemy into the heart of France. Burgund}^ according to the law of appanages, was ultimately replaced under the French sceptre, but Flanders refused to submit to Louis. He attacked it, conquere'd Franche Conite, and gained Artois l)y treaty for a time. Thus terminated the ducal appanage of Burgundy, wliich had caused so many evils to France. Flanders, one of its portions, was the subject of nume- rous wars with the house of Austria. The latter years of the cruel and cunning Louis XI. were filled with terrors and crimes. Shutting himself up in a fortress, he was suspicious of his domestics, his son, and even his physician. Knavish and super- stitious, he wore relics on his squalid garments, and perjured himself without remorse. He died in 1483, clinging with tenacity to life, although it was to liim but a torment of perpetu:d apprehension. Whatever may be said to the contrary, I cannot regard Louis XI. as a popular king, merely because he decapitated, or put in iron cages, the princes and nobles of his time. Crimes only serve to demoralise the people. He was cruel to the great, and a despot to the weak. If he protected the burghers and encou- raged industry, it was from avarice ; he desired pro- sperity to gain increased means of taxation. If he were the first to establish the post, it was to stretch out Avith more rapidity his hand of iron. He was anxious that civil justice should be well administered, for an absolute king has nothing to fear from the equality of his subjects. He caused 40,000 of his subjects to be executed, and children to be sprinkled with the blood of their parents ; yet he was the first to assume the title of ^' most Christian king!" His gi-eat maxim was, " He who knows not how to dissemble, knotvs not how to reign." He deceived liimself ; frank- ness is the best means of succeeding with the people CHARLES Vin.— STATES-GENERAL.— CONQUESTS AND REVERSES IN ITALY.— FIFTEENTH CENTURY. Charles VIII. was thirteen j-ears old at the death of his father. His eldest sister was regent. The Duke of Orleans, a descendant of Charles V., was ambitious of that office, and strove by agitation to obtain it. The states-general were convoked at Tours to decide the question, and he lost his cause. They were like- wise occupied with the misery of the peojile, which the records describe in forcible characters. They were accustomed to wander without subsistence in the forests ; men, women, and children, yoked themselves to the plough at night, for fear of being phmdered during the day by the tax-gatherers and men of arms. The reduction of two-thirds of the taxes, wherewith Louis XL had overwhehned the nation, was decreed. The ministers pretended that they n-ere clipping the /ling's icings, but it was answered, that the interest of the king was that of the people, and that to alleviate the condition of the latter was to benefit the former. The states afterwards evinced a more docile spirit. In the mean time, the Duke of Orleans had retired into Bretagne to form a I'arty, but was beaten at St Aubin by the army of the court. At this period, Anne, tlie lieiress of Brittany, was marriageable. Maximilian of Austria, her suitor, was outwitted, and she was married to Charles VIII. (1491.) Brittany was united to France, and the Duke of Orleans taken into favour. He was the same who afterwards became Louis XII. Tlie j'oung king took a fancy one day to become a conqueror, and all his courtiers ajiplauded the idea, and prognosticated its auspicious execution. He re- collected that he had some rights on Naples, from the succession of Anjou. He set olf with an army, design- ing to subdue that kingdom, and afterwards Constan- tinople. He successively entered Florence and Rome. He was alternately assisted and betrayed by the exe- cralile Borgia, Alexander VI., a pope, poisoner, and assassin. Naples was conquered by a inarch, and divers fetes and tournaineiits celebrated the event. But a powerful league was formed in Loinbardy. The French army repassed tlie Apennines, and 8000 men defeated in less than an hour ;iO,000 Italians at Farnoue. (1498.) However, the conquest of Na])lcs was .already lost. The artful Ferdinand, King of Spain, who seemed 20 HISTOBY OF FRANCE. an ally, drove out the remnant of the army by means of Gonzalvo of Cordova.* The only acqiiisition of the French in this expedition was a horrible malady; and Charles YIII. himsoU' died soon after, in a fit of apoplexy. Coniines describes him as a prince of good heart, lint of an indifiercnt head. We have arrived at the end of the fifteenth centur3^ Columbus had discovered America, and Gama had sailed round the Cape of Good Hope. The compass had opened the road to a new world, and commerce, as well as ambition, was directed towards it. Specu- lations, hitherto repressed witliin narrow limits, were extended over both liemispheres. The wonders of distant voyages and travels enlightened mankind, and removed tlie barrier of ajicient prejudices. A German, by inventing printing, rendered a still greater service to the hiunan race. The light of the arts and sciences was tlicncoforth to be shed over the universe with an imperishable histre. By multiplying books, barbarism and fanaticism will be ultimately driven from the face of the earth. In the mean time, disputes go on, and will continue to go on. From age to age, political, religious, and purely spccidative questions, will be changed with the era, for which men will be ever ready to enter the lists. But with the progress of tim(\ the nund)er of thinkers, as well as of lessons, will increase ; doctrines will become less imperious, creeds less exclusive ; and mankind will pay more and more attention to their true destiny on earth. LOUIS XII.— EXTERNAL WARS.— PATERNAL ADMINISTRATION. We enter upon a reign which would have been the happiest in French history but for its exterior poli- tics. Louis XII. was pcrliaps the best of the kings who have sat on the French tlirone. He was actuated by a true love for his people, whose father he was called ; he also repressed the nobles without maltreat- ing them. Unfortunately, a mania for conquests had seized upon the nation, and he yielded to the phrensy. Political relations were then beginning to be extended in Europe. Louis XI. had introduced therein the cunning and perfidy of which Machiavelli reveals the secrets. That ridiculous diplomacy of modern Euro.oe, unkno^ra to the ancients, which treats a people as a dowry, an iidieritance, or an indemnity, and risks the lot of nations upon art and capacity in negotiation, was then in full vigour. Louis XII. repudiated his wife, in order to marry the widow of Charles VIII., and preserve Brittany. Then, having rights on the Milanese through his grand- motlier, he departed with an army to enforce them. (1.501.) In twenty days, the Milanese was conquered ; Naples subsequently met the same fate : but Ferdi- nand once more drove the French out of that kingdom. Louis was about to give away the hand of his daughter, and a third of France for her dowry, when the states, which he assembled at Tours (150G), turned him from the design. He was afterwards engaged in a contest with Julius II., a pope who made war and mounted the breach in ptirson. The league of Cambray, formed by almost all Europe against Venice, was the next great event. It involved France in war with Spain, and the Milanese was eventually evacuated by the French. La Tremouille, having returned into Italy, was defeated by the Swiss at Novarre. At the same time, the English, united with the imperialists, beat the French in Picardy, and the Swiss penetrated as far as Dijon. Louis XII. entered into a treaty witli Hem-y ^'iII., King of England, and married his sister ; he finally died, without doing France all the good he desired. * Spain w.is then bccominR an impohing power. Tlie Christi.ins, desccnni- m(>nt, but he failed in liis enter])rise. The battle of St Denis (1567) took i)lace shortly after, in which the victory was doubtful. Montmorenci perished in the conflict. After a treaty, tlie war reconnnenced. Aided by the Protestants of Germany and England, the Huguenots gave battle at Jarnac, and were defeated by the Duke of Anjou, the king's brother (1569). Conde was assassinated on the field of battle when in the act of surrendering. Coligny, a prudent general, repaired this defeat, and rallied tiie Calvinist forces. The young Henry of Navarre, whom he was training to war, was i)lac(!d at the head of the party. Anjou was again victorious at Montcontom*. 22 HISTORY OF FRANCE. Notwithstanding these two checks, the Protestants concluded an advantageous peace. But it was a per- fidious snare. After yielding them four toAras as pledges, and civil and' reUgious liberty, Catherine drew the chiefs to coiu-t, and hdled them into a blind confidence. The young Henry went to espouse the king's sister (1572). The rejoicings Avere scarcely concluded, Avhen suddenly, in the dead of night, the royalists broke into the houses of the Huguenots, and massacred them without distinction of age or sex. The detestable king fired from a balcony on his own subjects. The same horrors were enacted simultane- ously in several of the provinces. The aged and illus- trious Coliguy was immolated, and Henry and the young Conde were forced to abjure their errors. The king openly avowed thiit the whole had been done by his orders ; and the parliament decreed an annual pro- cession to celebrate this massacre of 100,000 French- men. It is sufficient at the present day to mention St Bartholomew to excite horror ; and yet that day has had its apologists. The effect of persecution and cruelty is invariable : martjTS engender i^roselytes. The Protestants in- creased in number ; and war being renewed (1573), the Duke of Anjou lost 24,000 men at the siege of Rochelle. The f<3llowing year the party of malecontents was organised, which tiie Huguenots joined, and fresh conflicts occurred. During these events, the king died (1574). We learn with surprise that this monster had wit, made verses, and protected letters. THE LEAGUE.— THE SIXTEEN.— HENRY HI. The Duke of Anjou, Avho had gone to Poland, where he had been elected king, returned to France imder the name of Henry III. He had shown talents as a general, but on the throne he was idle, sihy, empty, superstitious, and addicted to infiimous debaucheries. He was advised to conciliate the Calvinists, but he declared against them. His brother, the Duke of Anjou, and Henry of Navarre, imited against him. The Protestants obtained some political advantages by an edict of pacification issued in 1576. Then the holy league was formed, a confederacy of those whom we may call ultra-Catholics, who bound themselves to defend religion and the kin*, whilst yielding a blind submission to their leader Henry of Guise. The states were convoked at Blois, the leaguers predominated in them, and the king sanctioned the league. Each party took up arms and stood on the watch. The leaguers, contemning the king, considted the pope whether they might disobey a monarch for the advantage of re- ligion ; and he responded in the aflarmative. Guise put forward the old Cardinal de Bourljon, who published a manifesto in the name of all the Catholic monarchs in Europe. Pope Sixtus V. exconmiunicated Henry and Conde, who laughed at him. The war called that of the three Henries broke out (1587) ; Henry of Na- varre defeated the royalists, connnanded by Jojeuse and other favourites, at Coutras ; whilst Henry of Guise defeated the German Calvinists who were advancing to his aid. During this period, the insurrection, known by the name of tlie sixteen, was organised at Paris. The appellation was taken from the sixteen quarters of the commmie, corresponding to tlie sections of 1792. The Sorbonne, which was favourable to the insurgents, decided that the government might be taken from an incapable prince. The leaguers, assembled at Nanci, dictated orders to the king ; he endeavoured to evince resistance, and called some Swiss to Paris. The burghers immediately ran to arms, barricaded the streets to the Louvre, and encompassed the troops. The king fled, and abandoned the capital to Guise and the league. A new union against the heretics was imposed on the king by the leaguers. A meeting of the states-general was held at Blois in 1588, in which the leaguers had again the majority. The Guises had reached the summit of power, and might easily have played the part of Pepin or Capet The king was conscious of the truth, and being unable to resist them openly, he had them assassinated. Tlie rage of the leaguers knew no bounds ; they cursed the king in the pxdpit ; and the parliament which o])- posed them was sent to the Bastille, and replaced with new members. The Dulce of Mayenne succeeded Giuse, his brother, as head of tlie leaguers, whose party was still predominant. Only a few towns re- mained to the king, Avho at lenglh perceived th» necessity of reconciling hunself with Henry ; they em- braced, and forgot mutual wrongs (1589). Excom- municated by the pope, the king, conducted by Henry, marched on Paris. They were already at St Cloud, when a young Dominican, incited by the leaguers, slew the king with the tlirust of a knife. The Pari- sians celebrated the murder, and Jacques Clement was regarded as a saint. The Catholic theologians of that era proved by the aid of scripture that it was lawful to kiU kings. The intriguing Catherine died in 1589, cordially detested by all parties. END OP THE LEAGUE.— ENTRY OF HENRY lY. INTO PARIS.— SIXTEENTH CENTURY. The branch of Valois was extinct. Henry of Bom-lion- Navarre took the cro^vn as descendant from Louis IX., and deserved it by his eminent qualities. Only re- cognised by a few provinces, and iU provided for war, he struggled against Mayeime, whose numerous army included a portion of Spanish infantry, then the best in Europe. He had almost decided upon retirmg into England, when, meeting Mayenne at Arques, he de- feated him witli 5000 men (1589). He immediately marched upon Paris, and nearly succeeded in taking it. The old Carchnal de Bom-bon, his cousin, had been declared king, under the title of Charles X. Henry again vanquished Mayeime at the battle of Ivry (1590), and blockaded Paris. The leaguers de- fended themselves ■with a species of phrensy, kept up by fanaticism ; whole regiments of monks and priests were formed to resist the heretic. A frightful famine raged ; bread was made with dead men's bones ; but Henry ijermitted provisions to pass into the besieged city when in this exvreu.ity. The celebrated Farnese, Philip II.'s general, advanced with an army to raise the siege. In the mean time, the flames of war were lighted up in every corner of France, either bj'^ foreign or domestic foes. In this disastrous state, a new party sprmig up in Paris, the party o{ politicians, who joined themselves to the malecontents. They were moderate Catlu)lics, who aimed at a pacification by recognising the king. Wearied with so long and bloody a strife, all parties at length were disposed to reconcilement, and met together in conference. The king resolved upon an abjuration, saying, " Paris is well worth a tmiss." Mayenne signed a treaty, and the league sunk under the shafts of ridicule and contempt, giving forth its last furious groan in an attempt to assassmate Henry IV. That prince entered Paris on the 22d March 1594. Thus finished the sixteenth century, one of the most glorious to the hiunan intellect, illustrated as it is by so many great names. Copernicus, Galileo, TorriceUi, Bacon, Montaigne, Grotius, Luther, Calvin, Erasmus — every name involves a mighty revolution. REIGN OF HENRY IV. Henry's first measure was to re-establish the par- liament ; and he then attempted a sort of amalgama- tion between the Cahiiusts and leaguers. In the mean time several endeavours were made to take away the UISTORY OF FRANCE. 23 king's life, for assuredly the Jesuits loved him not. They were driven forth the realm (1595) by the ad- vice of the parhameut, of the university, and of the church. Mayenne, however, was not quite reduced to submission, and Henry needed another victory over him, which having gained at Fontaine-Fran<;aise, he pardoned him. The Duke d'Epernon, having also revolted, was subdued, and war declared against Philip II., who had taken Calais. The king wanted money to resist him, and therefore convoked an as- sembly of notables to ask their advice, and told them that his most glorious title was his qiiality of a gentle- man. The Spaniards were repulsed. Mercoeur, go- vernor of Bretagne, who stiU held for the leagnie, was subdued, and a treaty signed with Philip (1598), who died shortly after. The Calvinists assembled at Saumur, and loudly exclaimed against the little favour with which they were regarded. Henry gave them the edict of Nantes, in which the exercise of their religion was subjected to the restrictions of a galling tolerati(m. The edict was far removed from reUgious liberty, and yet the ultra-Cathohcs regarded it as a most mijust concession. The latter events of this reign were the recall of the Jesuits, sohcited by the pope ; the conspiracy of Henrietta d'Entragues, to whom Henry had given a promise of marriage; and the mediation (1G09) be- tween the pope, Venitians, Spain, and IloUand. Henry was arming against Austria, and projected, as is said, a plan for an European confederation and a perpetual peace, long the object of philanthropic prayers, when he was assassinated by a fanatic. It was Ilavaillac, since we are bound to name him : history is too com- plaisant in immortalising ruffians and assassins. Assisted by Sully, his friend and minister, Henry IV. introduced order and economy into the finances : for- merly not more than the fifth of the taxes ever reached the royal treasury. He had a good heart, and pos- sessed the art of making himself beloved ; but he reigned as an absolute monarch. He repressed every symptom of resistance, even to the obstinacy of the parliament, by the vain parade of beds of justice. We may ask how a prince, who desired the good and com- fort of the poor, could sign the atrocious ordinance which condemned them to the galleys for killing a rabbit ? We must acknowledge, although with reluc- tance, that the despotism of RicheUeu and Louis XIV. can be traced back to Henry IV. With that convic- tion, it is unnecessary to reproach him for having been too fond of play and of his subjects' wives. Never- theless he was popular, and still lives in the recollec- tions of the people ; a glory which, as far as we know, is peculiar to him. RICHELIEU.— LOUIS XIIL— DESPOTISM. Lou's XIII. being on his accession (lOlO) only nine years old, the parliament gave the regency to his mother, Mary of Medicis, thus attributing to itself a prerogative of the states-general. The benefits of the preceding adimnistration were lost; Sully was dismissed, and his savings dissipated. The Florentine Concini (afterwards Marshal (VAncre), and his wife Galigai, ruined France by their infiuence over the regent. Factions began to rend the kingdom again. The states-general were thereupon convoked (1()14), the time of which was consumed with the affairs of the clergy. It was their last assembly bcifore the Revolution. The complaints of the parliament con- cerning the administration of afliiirs were rejected, and the Prince of Condc, who was at the head of tli(> malecontents and Calvinists, was arrested. A ytmng page attending the king, named Luynes, wlio ha(i gained complete sway over the royal mind, perstiaded his master to rid himself of the minister, in order to throw oif the yoke of the regent. The king, cruel from unbecility, caused Concini to be assassinated. His wife was accused of witchcraft, and burnt. The new favourite inherited the immense wealth which they had hoarded by their malversations. Louis XIII. was one of those weak creatures who derive their energy from the suggestions of others, and revenge themselves for tlieir habitual submission by bursts of brutal fero- city. He exiled his mother, and treated her with great harshness. She got up two revolts by the assistance of certain lords. The Calvinists likewise rose several times in insurrection, and obtained advantageous tenns of peace. Then appeared Richelieu (1624), a creature of Con- cini, who had lived in retirement since his patron's downfall. This man had a most stern and inflexible win, with an um-emitting assiduity in imposing it upon others ; a despot in every sense of the word, he anni- hilated every instriunent of resistance. Throwing suspicion upon the designs of the nobles, he imitated the conduct of Louis XL, and had. several of tiiem condemned to death by commissions. He suppressed the great offices of admiral and constable, which for- merly conferred so vast an influence, and which were already degraded, since the latter had been given to Luynes, a simple gentleman. Appearing at first dis- posed to conciliate the Calvinists, he soon formed the project of oppressing them, by seizing their places of security, the feeble guarantees of their rehgious free- dom. After a year spent in the siege of Rochelle, conducted by himself in person, and which was de- fended with heroic courage, displayed amid the horrors of famine, he took that town, although supported by an English fleet. He destroyed that bulwark of the Protestant faith, and reduced Rohan, the leader of the Huguenot army. It is stated that the plan of the reformers was to found a federative republic, such as they saw prospering m Holland. K they had suc- ceeded, how different would the history of Europe have been ! It is not the reign of Louis XIIL, but of Richelieu, that is to be related ; before him all bent the knee. The king was accomited a cypher. Roussillon was conqiieredin 1628. Thehouseof Austria washumbled. Sevei'al wars were maintained against the Spaniai'ds, with varying success ; Catalonia gave itself up to France. The genius of Richelieu shone in a skilful use of the arts of political intrigue, and mider him France took a commanding station in Europe. Never- theless, his reign has something mournful and mono- tonous in its aspect, like every thing marked by the hand of despotism. From time to time, feeble attempts at resistance were provoked, which were always sup- pressed by severe punishments : the Marshal de JNIa- rillacwas executed in 1630; the Duke de Montmorenci, taken with arms in his hands, was condemned by tlie parliament of Toulouse and executed in 1632, in spite of the king's pardon ; Cing-Mars and De Thou were decapitated in 1642, for having conspired against tlie cardinal, at the instance of the king himself, irritated at the haughty thraldom of his minister. At length this tyrannical priest died. Louis XIII. had scarcely time to breathe freely, before he likewise paid nature's debt (1643); as if Richelieu, unwilling that he should reign an insfant, had ordered him to follow him to the tomb. The absolute power of Charles V. and Hcnrj' IV., preserved at l(>ast the elasticity of the French cha- racter. Richelieu, like Louis XI., broke and degraded it. France was perfectly miserable imder him ; it seemed as if despotism struck the minds of men with stupor, and the soil with sterility. The pretensions of the parliament, which formerly claimed to be a j)ortion of the sovereign power, were out of season under sucli a master. One day that the magistrates luul refused to register a decree, Richelieu had them sunnnonod before the king, and kept them on their knees during the whole audience. To him, however, was owing the institution of the Academy, which had the patience to pronounce a periodical eulogmm upon 24 HISTORY OF FRANCE. him during a space of 150 years ; but The Cid, which lie caused to be condemned, gave the true impetus to French Uterary genius ; whilst Descartes, persecuted by the zealots, was driven to pursue pliilosophy in Sweden. MAZARIN.— jnNORITY OF LOUIS XIV.— THE FRONDE. Louis XIV. was five years old on his accession. The paidiament again arrogated the right to confer the regency. The queen- mother, Anne of Austria, a vain and trivolous woman, obtained it. The Italian, Mazarin, her favourite, a chsciple of Richeheu, go- verU'Cd in her name. He was an adroit and supple minister, who carried on despotism by cmining, and seemed to regard the art of reigning as synonymous with the art of making dupes. The war continued with A-ustria without any object. The yoimg D'Eng- hien, who became the great Condo, distinguished himself in its course. He conquered at Kocroi and Fribourg. Turenne was successful at Nordlingen (1G44), and took Dunkirk; and Conde was again vic- torious at Lens. This war, in which the Swedes were useful allies, was terminated by the treaty of West- phalia (1648). After the peace, the nobles gave vent to their dis- content against Mazarin ; they made common cause with the parUament, and were sometimes aided by the people, Avho, upon one occasion, erected barricades in Paris, and compelled the court to set two magistrates at liberty. However, the people had no real interest in the quarrels of a few turbident and ambitious men ; bowed beneath the iron yoke of despotism, they had not even an idea of derivmg any popular advantage from such contests. The factions at this time were little more than coteries ; laughter and jokes were as plentiful as blows. A sprightly prelate bethought him of enacting the character of Catiline, and in the recital of liis fantastic exploits, he has rendered civil war a very amusing relation. Conde, disgusted with the court, which he had previously served, abandoned it. Mazarin caused him to be arrested, then released him ; and, seeing the storm increasing, quitted the kingdom, into which he returned with 7000 men. Conde and the Frondists had formed an alliance with the Spaniards. The armies came to close quarters in the faubourg St Antoine. The royahsts were com- manded by Turenne. The parliament named the irresolute Gaston, Duke of Orleans, heutenant of the kingdom. Mazarin again retired, and the Fronde, having no further pretext to allege, was dissolved ; whereupon the king and Mazarin entered Paris (165.3). The natural result of this revolutionary display, so ill supported, was to give additional strength to abso- lute power. Conde had rejoined the Spaniards in the Low Countries. The war between him and Turenne continiied for a long time, and was terminated by the treaty of the Pyrenees (1659): France kept Artois, Roussillon, and Alsace ; and Louis XIV. married the Infanta jNIaria Theresa. Mazarin died, leaving des- potism in excellent hands. Louis now declared that he would reign in his turn (1661). He had already entered the parliament in his hmiting-dress, booted and whip in hand, to enjoin it to abstain from any interference in afiair? of state. PROSPERITY OP LOUIS XIV. Louis XIV. conceived the project of becoming the most powerfid monarch in Europe, and he succeeded therein by the assistance of superior men, whom he had the sagacity to discover and draw out. Colbert restored the finances, cherished commerce and in- dustry, protected learning, and organised the whole administration. A man of genius, Ri;iuet, consecrated his life and fortune to the construction of the Lan- guedoc canal. A marine was created, capable of opposing the navies of Holland and England. The king alleged pretended rights upon the death of Philip IV., as a pretext for declaring war against Spain. (1668.) Flanders was conquered in a short time, and Franch -Comte was overrun in tliree weeks. Holland, Englan 1, and Sweden, formed an alliance in favour of Spain. By the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, the Comte was restored; but France retained Flanders, which the celebrated Vauban fortified. Holland gave Louis XIV. divers causes of irritation and anti])athy, presenting in its republican form of government so striking a contrast to his own. He collected against it 200,000 men, after having deprived it of all its allies ; and he made with Conde, Turenne, Luxumbourg, &c., that passage of the Rhine which was celebrated as a military prodigy, at a time when a king who made war in a carriage, surroimded by his court, was compared to Cajsar. Holland was in- vaded, and Louis proposed conditions of a most humihating and oppressive character. Despair stirred up the Dutch to the last pitch of exasperation. Ruyter, who from a cabin-boy had become an admiral, fre- quently beat the French and English fleets. The Dutch flooded their country to preserve its freedom (1673); and Louis XIV. was compelled to evacuate it. A general league was formed to curb the freaks of this imperious despot. But he was the strongest ; he again overran Franche-Comte, and laid waste the Palatinate by means of Tm-enne. Conde gave battle to the Stadtholder of Holland at Senef (1678), which was attended with no other result than the destruc- tion of 25,000 men. Duquesne rendered the French flag formidable in the Mediterranean, and the peace of Niraeguen consolidated the conquests of France. The stadtholder, however, attempted an invasion, and was repulsed by Luxumbourg. In 1681, Strasburg was taken. Louis sent a fleet to bombard Algiers, as a hint to the pirates to respect French commerce in future. He likewise bombarded Genoa, for having assisted Algiers. He was at the summit of power ; no king was ever regaled with such incense ; his very person was idoUsed as the type of beauty and dignity. The extravagant magnificence of his court, in which the wealth of France was ingidfed, intoxicated his vain- glorious mind. In his delirium he resolved to extirpate heresy. The women, poets, and Jesuits, applauded his design. Missionaries were sent into the Cevennes, accompanied by di-agoons, who massacred the Cal- vinists by way of converting them. The edict of Nantes was revoked (1685) ; the churches were demo- lished, and children torn from their parents to be made Catholics. Eight hundred thousand peaceable citizens migrated, and carried into foreign comi tries their industry and resentment ; their possessions served to reward sj'cophants. Indignant Eurox)e coalesced at Augsburg (1687) against this intolerant despotism. The Prince of Orange Avas the soul of this confede- racy; he was called, under the title of William III., to the throne of England, whose parliament once more expelled the Stuarts; and Louis XIV. oflered his pro- tection to the dethroned king, James II. A fierce war was the result. The Palatinate was again de- vastated, by the order of Louvois. LiLxumbourg con- quered at Fleurus, Steinkerque, and Nerwinde, the king, William, a brave warrior, and a man of great ability, but unfortunate in battle. Catinat, a philo- sophic and plebeian general, triumphed over the Duke of Savoy at Staflarde and Marseilles. On the other hand, Tourville lost fourteen ships of the line at La Hoguc. In every quarter humanity suflered, and groaned amidst useless carnage and desolation. Peace was concluded at Ryswick (1697) from mutual ex- haustion : Louis no longer reigned as master, and Frimce was ruined. Any expedient was adopted to get money ; nobility was sold for 2000 crowns, as it had been bought before Henry III. by fiefs. HISTORY OF FRANCE. 25 RE^TERSES OF LOUIS XIV.— THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. The Kjng of Spain, having no direct heir, made, after long hesitating between the houses of France and Austria, his will in favour of a grandson of Louis XIV. (1700). That prince acceirted the inheritance, knowing, however, that he exposed himself to a ter- rible war. He again excited the anger of England, by declaring for the son of James II. He sent Philip V. into Spain, saying to him, " There are no longer any Pyrenees." An abbe, whom the superb Louis had de- spised, and who became the best general of the empe- ror, Prince Eugene, obtained great advantages over the old Villeroi in Savoy. The Duke of Savoy, Vic- tor Amadeus, abandoned the French party, notwith- standing the ties that attached him to the Bourbons. Mai'lborough triumphed in the Low Countries ; but Villars conquered the imperialists at Hochstet (1703), where the French were in the following year van- quished, in their tm-n, by Eugene and Zvlarlborough. The Enghsh took Gibraltar and Barcelona. Ven- dome repulsed Eugene in Italy (1706), when Marl- borough gained the decisive battle of Ramillies over Villeroi. Then fortune changed in the south ; the French army was beaten at Tm'in ; Toulon was be- sieged; the archduke was crowned at Madrid; and Philip V. would have lost Spain, if Berwick had not gained for him the battle of Almanza (1707). Eugene fought both in the south and the north; in 1709, he took Lille in concert Avith Marlborough. Louis craved peace ; harsh conditions were offered him ; and he preferred continuing the war, notwithstanding the extreme misery of the people. After a brave re- sistance, the French army, commanded by Villars, was defeated at Malplaquet (1710). The king again hmnbled himself, and his offers were rejected. Veu- dome restored affairs in Spain ; Marlborough, dis- graced by his court, retired, and a truce was concluded with England. Villars, having surprised Eugene at Denain, gained one of those striking victories which save empires. The peace of Utrecht was the conse- quence (1713). Villars passed the Rhine, repulsed the Austrians, and signed with Eugene the peace of Radstadt (1714). The issue of this ruinous war was less disastrous to France than it had reason to ex- pect. The most humiliating condition was the destruction of the port of Dunkirk. The almost simultaneous deaths of the dauphin and his son, the duke of Burgundy, completed the misfortunes of Louis XIV. He died in 1715, in his seventy-seventh year, after a reign of seventy-two years. He left France two thousand six hundred millions of debt ; and in the course of his career he had destroyed more than a million of men. The seventeenth century is called the age of Louis XIV., because he contributed to give it lustre by his magnificence and his taste for a certain species of grandeur. But what good did he ^wrform for the human race ? He rendered France powerful in Eui'ope, and enslaved it at home ; he was the cause that, dur- ing a century, the French had no national spirit. By constituting himself the dispenser of glory as well as of fortune, he demoralised the nation ; it forgot itself in thinking only of him ; and when he uttered the phrase, " I am tlie state!" it believed him. His idle splendour corrupted the ideas of a nation which has always been too prone to concentrate upon tlio man of j the moment its admiration, its idolatry, and its own I destinies. Under Louis XIV., Racine, Boilean, and I Moliere, purified taste, and produced masterpieces of I genius. Without him, Corneille, Pascal, La Fontaine, j Fi'nelon, and La Bruytro, would not the less have adorned France ; reason would have had freer organs, I and genius, emancipated from an aljsorhiiig contem- I plation of the grand monarch, would have risen to i more noble, that is to saj% more useful, conceptions. I The spirit of independence, awakened by tlie struggles of the Fronde, would not have been smothered; the inquiry into the true interests of humanity would not have been retarded; and the seventeenth century might have been the age as well of reason as of genius. The better to repress freedom of opinion, despotism availed itself of the yoke of religious intolerance. Bos- suet was the apostle of Louis XIV.'s monarchy, and preached its infallibility. The Jansenists were per- secuted, not on account of their doctrines, but because they thought for themselves, and invaded the unity of belief All France was boimd to think like the king. Tlience came that hypocritical varnish which covered the corruption of manners. The Tartiiffe, permitted at court, was an extraordinary anomaly, and evinces the triimiph of genius. In conclusion, this Louis XIV., so absolute a king, and who had never suffered him- self to be governed by his mistresses, finislied by sharing his throne with his confessor and an old woman whom he had married, the widow Scarron (Madame de Maintenon). THE REGENCY.— REIGN OF LOUIS XV.- EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. ■THE The great-grandson of Louis XIV. was likewise king at the age of five. The parhament annulled the will of the deceased monarch, and nominated his nephew, the Duke of Orleans, unlimited regent. He was a refined debauchee, and indifferent as to affairs. The dull grandeur of the last reign, joined to its mis- fortunes, had at last disgusted the French : delivered from the galling restraint of tiresome ceremony and hateful intolerance, which had pervaded the verj- manners of the people, they abandoned themselves to the license of unrestrained foUy, like children let loose from a stern taskmaster. During a war against Spain, excited by an old Italian priest, Alberoni, who M-as bent upon embroiling and throwing into confusion all Em-ope, schemes were entertained for paying off the debts of Louis XIV. The adventurer I>aw arrived from Scotland, with a financial system, which was seized upon with avidity. The whole was paid with the money of dupes, who received in exchange paper and mighty promises. The Mississippi scheme plunged the nation into a vortex of madness, and turned the period into a saturucdia of fallacious wealth. The minister of the regent, the Abbe Dubois, was as vile as his master was corrupt : he made himself the crea- ture of the Jesuits. The king entered upon his maioritv when the re- gent died (1723). The Duke of" Bourbon, liis first minister, signaUsed his administration by persecutions against the Protestants. The Abbe de Fleuiy, who succeeded him, was a very moderate and prudent man, seventy-three years old : he had the talent of api>eas- ing and concihating. He procm-ed France a long peace, which was troubled by the expulsion of Stanislaus, King of Poland, the king's father-in-law. Alliances were formed, and war was declared against the emperor, who on his part contracted an alliance with Peter the Great, the first czar who made Russia's influence felt in Europe. The campaign which occurred in Italy (1734) was decisive. Peace was signed at Vienna ; France gained Lorraine, of which Stanislaus had tlie life-sovereignty secured to him. Tlic war of 1740, for the succession of tlie emiieror. which his illustrious daughter Muria-Tlieresa wisluM] to preserve entin;, was less fortunate. Several French armies were destroyed without fighting. Frederick, the famous King of l^russia, exhibited great politie:il and military talents : he conquered Silesia. In this war, France was the ally of Prussia ami the Elector of Bavaria, the pretender to the empire, and fouy^Iit against England, Holland, and Piedmont, 'i'lie battle of Fontenoy was gained by the Marslial de Saxe' against the two first powers (174.5). Success was' divided in Italy, and the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle' 26 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. rpwarded the covirageous perseverance of Maria- Theresa (1748). The war soon recommenced (1749). England coveted Canada, and began liostiUties without a de- chiration. Tlie French armies were Ut first successful both in America and Europe. Tlie old political system of Europe was overthrown in this war : France was united with Austria against Prussia and England. Soubise marched against the King of Prussia with the powerful army of the coalesced powers, which Frederick routed at Rosbach, as completely as, fifty years later, the Prussians were scattered at Jena. The war was continued imtil the peace of Paris (1763), which despoiled France of her possessions in America, with the exception of New Orleans. The alliance contracted at that time with Sx)ain, under the title of the Famili/ Compact, was disastrous to France. Chatham governed Engltmd, whose i)ower he carried to an ex- orbitant pitch. To comj)lete the picture of this reign, we should speak of the interminable religious quarrels and poli- tical intrigues, resulting from a bull Uniyrnitus, pro- claiming the infallibility of the pope. We slioidd recall the persecution raised by the Jesuits and the crown against the Jansenists and the parliament, as well as the absurd miracles witli which they endea- voured to defend themselves. We should relate the excesses of the court, and the scandalous life of a king who hated the people — of a king who, abandoning himself to the most shameless women, gave the government as a reward to debauchery, and passed in disgraceful orgies the time in which his people were crying for bread. We shoidd describe the infamous despotism of Icttrcs dc cachet; and tell how, m the face of the nation, a Chancellor Maupeoii had tlie audacity to put his creatures in the place of judges who were found too upright. But why hnger on the revolting spectacle of such degradation ? It has produced the greatest benefits, and that is enough. The reign of Louis XV. is the one to which France is the most deeply indebted ; it made people reflect with an earnestness before unknown ; opened their eyes, by removing the deceptive halo which surromided the despotic throne, and hastened the advent of national hardihood. A degraded despotism is as instructive to nations as a despotism crowned with glory is mischievous to them. We need only speak a word about the ministry of De Choiseul, who restored some dignity to France in the eyes of foreigners, and conquered Corsica. The expidsion of the Jesuits is also worthy of commemo- ration. Avignon, which had been seized, Avas restored to the pope, as a recompense for aboUshing the Jesui- tical order. The eighteenth centiu-y, upon which the maledic- tions of the partisans of ignorance have been so profusely heaped, has so often been described in its intellectual characteristics as to render any notice here a superfluous task. It is sufficient to know that the human mind advanced with rapid strides in every branch of inquiry during its com-se, and that it has been justly deemed to have prepared France for her revolution. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION PREFACE OF M. THIERS. I PROPOSE to write the history of a memoraljle revo- lution, which has deeply agitated the minds of men, and still divides their opinions. I do not ctmceal from myself the diflSculties of the undertaking, for passions which were thought to be stifled under the influence of military despotism, have been again aroused. Men, tottering with the weight of years and labours, have suddenly felt revived within them resentments which were apparently hushed, and have imparted them to us, their descendants and successors. But if we have to support the same cause, we are relieved from the necessity of defending their conduct, and we are per- mitted to separate liberty itself from those who have served or injured it, whilst we possess the advantage of having heard and observed these aged men, who, still full of their recollections, still swayed by their impressions, display to us in more vivid characters the spirit and nature of l)ygone parties, and teach us better to comprehend them. Perhaps the moment in which the actors are about to vanish from f lie scene, is the most fitting for the compilation of history ; we may gatlier their testimony without participating their passions. Be that as it ma}'', I have endeavoured to divest myself of every sentiment of animosity : I have, by turns, imagined myself born beneath the thatch, and animated with a just ambition, longing to obtain what the disdain of the higher classes mijustly denied me ; and again, reared in palaces and the inheritor of ancient privileges, feeling the pain of renouncing a possession which I viewed as a legitimate subject of ownership. Thus, any emotions of anger could not fail to be calmed : I have felt pity for the combatants, and so- laced myself by an admiring cont€nii)lation of generoas minds. CHAPTER I. ACCESSION OF LOUIS XVI. COMMENCEMENT OF THE REVOLUTION. The revolutions of the French monarchy are recorded iu the pages of history : it is known that the Greeks, and afterwards the Romans, carried their arms and their civilisation into the midst of the Gauls, then in a state of semi-barbjirism ; that after them, the hordes of northern Europe established tlieir military hierarchy in those provinces, and that this hierarchy, transferred from individuals to lands, was, as it were, implanted in the soil, and thus formed the feudal system. In tliat system, authority was divided between the chief, called the king, and the secondary chiefs, called vas- sals, who in their tm-n were kings of their own people. In our times, when the eagerness of all parties for nnitual accusation lias induced so close a search for reciprocal wrongs, it is sufficiently estiibhshed that authority Avas first disputed by the vassals, which those, indeed, invariably do who are most nearly affected by its exercise ; that this authority was after- wards partitioned amongst them, during which period feudal anarchy reigned })aramomit ; and that it finally returned to the throne, where it Avas concentrated into despotism imder Louis XL, Richelieu, and Louis XIV. The French population gradually enfranchised itself by labour, the first source of wealth and liberty. Agri- cultural in the first ages, subsequently commercial and manufacturing, it acquired so considerable an importance, that it formed the nation in its collective capacity. Introduced into the states-general in a suppliant posture, it appeared there to be taxed accord- ing to mercy and forheiirance ; but Louis XIV. at last announced that he AvoiUd have no more of these abject assemblies, and declared his resolution to the parli.a- ment with a horse-whip in his hand. Theucelbrtli. ^J- I /'V/J //^ /// '^ //^ T'/r /vv/ Ay - X ' y'ler.^ft^f ft HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 27 we behold a king:, seated at the head of the state, invested with a power ill defined in theory, but abso- lute in practice ; nobles, who had abandoned their feudal dignity for the favour of the monarch, and who disputed amongst themselves, by ways of intrigue, wliat was thrown to them from the substance of the productive classes ; underneath, an immense popula- tion, holding no farther relation with this courtier aristocracy than a customary submission and the dis- cliarge of imposts. Between the com-t and the people inter})osed parliaments, possessing the power of admi- nistering jiistice and registering the royal vohtion. Authority is always disputed ; when it is not so in the legitimate assemblies of the nation, it meets oppo- sition in the very palace of the prince. By refusing to register the roj-al decrees, the parhaments stayed tlieir efficacy, wliich abeyance was ended by a bed of justice, and some concession when the king was weak, and by an mireserved submission when the king was strong. Louis XIV. had no occasion even to concede a favour, for in his reign no parliament durst utter a remonstrance ; he drew the nation at his heels, and it glorified him for the marvels which itself accom- plished in war, in arts, and in sciences. The subjects and the prince were in perfect concord, and moved by an identical impulse. But Louis had scarcely expired, before the regent offered to the parliaments an opportunity for revenging their long degradation. The pleasure of the monarch, so reverenced in his lifetime, was contemned at his death, and his last will abrogated. Authority was then once more made the subject of contest ; and a leng-thened struggle ensued between the parliaments, the clergy, and the court, in sight of a nation exhausted by long wars and wearj' of contributing to the prodigality of its masters, given by turns to voluptuous excess and to a rage for war. Previously, its genius was exclusively displayed in ministering to the purposes and pleasure of the mo- narch ; thenceforth, it directed its powers for its own advantage, and to the consideration of its own inte- rests. Th^ human mind moves incessantly from one object to ar^other. From the theatre and the pulpit, the French genius was borne towards the moral and jwlitical sciences, and then all was changed. Let us conceive, during an entire age, the usurpers of all national rights tearing at each otlier for an emascu- _Jated authority ; tlie parliaments fulminating against the clergy, and the clergy against the parliaments ; tliese, again, contesting the power of the court ; the court, caieless and tranquil amidst the strife, calmly devouring the substance of the peoj^le, encompassed by the most alarming disorders ; the nation, enriched and aroused, attentive to these divisions, arming itself Avith the avowals springing from mutual recrimina- tion, deprived of all political action, dogmatising with boldness and ignorance, because it was limited to theories ; eager, above all things, to recover its rank in Europe ; and vainly offering its gold and its blood to resume a position which the imbecility of its rulers had lost it ; — siwh was the eightc^enth century. The scandal had reached its height when Louis XVI., an equitable prince, moderate in his tastes, negligently educated, but impelled to good by a natu- ral bias, moimted in the flower of life the throne of his ancestors (1774). He called to his side an old courtier* to take charge of his kingdom, and divided * " The selection which Louis XVI. made at his accession to the throne, of Maiirepas, especially contributed to impart an irre- solute, vacillatiiis cliai'acter to liis reign. Tlie young monarcli, alive to his duties and his own inexperience, had recourse to tlio wisdom of an old man of seventy -three, who had been disgraced under Louis XV. for his opposition to the mistresses. But, instead of a sage, lie found only a courtier, whoso disastrous influence brooded over his whole life. Ilcaccustomed him to half measures, to changes of system, to fitful absurdities in the exercise of power, and more than all, to the habit, amounting to a necessity, of doing every thing through otliors, and nothing of liiinsolf."— ]l//i;«<-^'« French Rcvoluthn. his confidence between Maurepas and the queen, a yoimg princess of the house of Austria, lively, amiable, and exercising the greatest ascendancy over her con- sort. Jlaurepas and the queen were in hostility ; the king, yielding sometimes to his minister, at others to his queen, early commenced his long career of vacil- lation. Aware of the state of his empire, he agreed with the philosophers on that point ; but, reared in the strictest Christian princi})les, he entertained the gxeatest repugnance towards them. The pubHc voice, loudly expressed, pointed out Turgot to him, one of the economists, a man of simplicity and virtue, en- dowed with a firm character, slow in forming his opinions biit obstinate in maintaining them, and of profound reflection. Convinced of his probity, and charmed with his projects of reform, Louis XVI. was wont to repeat, " There are only myself and Turgot who are friends of the people." The reforms of Turgot miscarried through the resistance of the first orders in the state, interested in preserving all those abuses the austere minister designed to aljrogate. The king dismissed him with regret. Throughout his life, which was but a long martyrdom, he had always the misfortune to be sensible of what was beneficial, sin- cerely to desire it, and to lack the force necessary to put it in execution. The king, placed between the court, the parliaments, and the public, beset by intrigues and suggestions of every kind, changed his ministers with every gust. Giving way once more to the public voice, and the necessity for reforms, he called to the financial de- partment Necker(1777), a Genevese, enriched by his labours as a banker, a partisan and disciple of Coibert, as Turgot was of Sully ; a thrifty and upright finan- cier, but vain and conceited, laying claim to the office of regidator in aU things — religion, i)hilosophy, and liberty, and, led astray by the eulogies of his friends and tlie public, flattering himself -with capacity to lead and arrest the minds of others where his own stopped short. Necker infused order into the deranged finances, and found means to meet the heavy expenditure of tlie American war. Less comprehensive in his grasp of intellect, but more flexible than Turgot, enjoying, above aU, the confidence of capitalists, he procured for the moment imexpected resources, and succeeded in reviving credit. But something more than financial manoeuvres was needed to terminate the embarrass- ments of the treasiuy, and he fell upon the expedient of reforms. Tlie higher orders were not more accom- modating to him than they had been to Turgot ; the parliaments, api)rised of his projects, miited to oppose hiin, and drove him from the helm of aflliirs. The conviction of abuses was universidly entertained and proclaimed ; the king himself was aware of them, and endured much anguish from the consideration. Tlie courtiers, -who prospered upon these abuses, M'ould have willingly seen the financial difficulties removed, but not at the cost of a single sacrifice to tliemselves. They descanted much at court, and gave vent within its precincts to philosophical maxims ; professed infinite sorrow for the vexations inflicted on the agriculturists whilst pursuing their darling chase ; liad been seen even to api)laud the indejien- deiice of America, and to receive with distinguished honour the young Frenchmen, when they returned from that scene of popidar triumph. The iwrliamcnts likewise called lustily ujion the public weal, set forth in somuling phrases the miseries of the poor, and yet opposed the equal distribution of the taxes, as well as the abolition of the nunains of feudal barbarism. All spoke of the general welfare, few really desired it ; and the people, not yet distinguishing their true friends, gave their voices to all who resisted power, their most apparent enemy. By removing Turgot and Necker, the state of affairs had not been chiuigeil ; the exigences of the exchequer were not tlie less urgent. Had not their very exist- 28 HISTOKY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. ence been threatened, had not the prodig^ality of tlie court seemed doomed to curtailment, the corn-tiers would have gladly submitted to a long prorogation of an appeal to national interference. The difficulty, got rid of for the moment by tlie displacement of a minister, by a loan, or by the forced enactment of a tax, soon re-appeared in an exaggerated form, like every neglected evil. They hesitated, as it always happens vrhen a distastefid but necessary course is rendered incumbent. An intrigue carried M. de Calonne to the ministry — a person in little favour with the public on account of his share in the perse- cution of I,a Chalotais. Of sprightly temperament, and fertile in resources, Calonne relied upon his genius, upon fortune, and upon the co-operation of men, and contemplated the future with marvellous indifference. His doctrine was that premature alarm was foolish, and that it was time enough to discover an evil the day before it was proposed to remedy it. He gained the good graces of the court by his manners, moved it by his readiness to grant all that was asked, pro- cured for the king and all around him a few blissful moments, and caused the gloomy presentiments that darkened every broM' to be exchanged for smiles of joy and confidence.* This future, upon which such sanguine hopes were founded, drew portentously nigh ; decisive measures could at last be no longer delayed. It was impossible to burden the people Avith additional taxes, and yet the public coffers were empty. Only one mode existed of remedying the miscluef, and that was to reduce the expenditure by the suppression of all sine- cm-es ; should this expedient not prove sufficient, then to extend taxation over a larger contributing surface ; or, in other words, to include the nobility and clergy in the fiscal fold. These projects, successively at- tempted by Turgot and Necker, and now resumed by Calonne, seemed to him capable of succeeding only by obtaining the consent of the privileged classes themselves. Calonne, tlierefore, conceived the idea of gathering them into one assembly, under the name of Notables, to lay before them his plans, and extract their consent by address or conviction. This assembly, which opened on the 22d February 1781, was com- posed of members taken from the nobility, the clergy, and the magistracy ; of numerous masters of requests, and certain provincial functionaries. By means of this composite infusion, and more especially by the aid of the popular and philosophic nobles whom he took care to call, Calonne felt assured of carrying ah. before him. The too confident minister deceived himself. In public oi^inion he was never forgiven for occupying the post of Turgot and Necker. Pleased at seeing a minister obliged to render accounts, the people sup- ported the resistance of the notables. The most stormy discussions ensued. Calonne had the indis- cretion to throw upon his predecessors, and partly upon Necker, the forlorn condition of the treasury. Necker retorted, was exiled, and the opposition be- came in consequence more vehement. Calonne met the storm with presence of mind and great composure. He caused M. de Miromenil, the keeper of the seals, to be dismissed for abetting the parliaments in their outcries. But his triumph lasted only for two days. The king, wlio was attached to him, had promised more than he could fulfil, when he engaged to sup- port him. He was shaken by the representations of * " Calonno wiis confident and sanguine, brilliant and skilful, fertile in resources, calm, and indifferent. His system of admini- stration, whether desifnicdly or otherwise, was diainetric:illy op- posed to that of his predecessor. Neeker had been the advocate of economy, Calonne pre;iehed up prodigality ; Necker had fallen by the arts of courtiers, Calonne rested on them for support. His sophisms were backed by largesses ; he won the queen by f^tes, the great lords by pensions, and seduced even capitalists them- selves, by displaying at first exemplary regiUai'ity in his liquida- tions." — MiGNET. the notables, who undertook to accede to the plans of Calonne, but on condition that their execution should be intrusted to a minister less unscrupulous, and more worthy of confidence. The queen, by the ad- vice of the Abbe de Vermont, proposed and induced the king to nominate a new minister, M. de Brienne, Archbishop of Toidoiise, one of the notables, who had mainly contributed to the overtlnow of Calonne, in the hope of succeeding him.* The Archbishop of Toulouse, an obstinate and vain old man, had all his life been dreaming of the mini- stry, and pursued his darling object by every possible expedient. He rested his hopes chiefly upon his credit with the women, Avhom he assiduously courted, and succeeded in pleasing. He was accustomed to refer with exultation to his administration of Lan- guedoc. If, on becoming minister, he did not obtain such general favoiu- as would have been accorded to Necker, he liad at least the merit of supplanting Calonne. At first he was not made prime mmister, but he soon became so. Seconded by M. de Lamoig- non, keeper of the seals, a bitter enemy to the parlia- ments, he opened his career mider somewhat happy auspices. The notables, bound by their promises, consented with alacrity to all they had previously refused ; a land-tax, a stamp-duty, the suppression of compulsive labour (corvecs), and provincial assemblies, were granted Avith affected warmth. It was not to these measures, but to their author, they pretended to have been repugnant. Thus public opinion tri- imiphed. Calonne was pursued with imprecations, and the notables enjoyed the public esteem ; an honour they nevertheless regretted, when acquired at the expense of such great sacrifices. If M. de Brienne had known how to profit by Ms position ; if he had executed with activity the measures sanctioned by the notables ; if he had presented them in the aggre- gate, and on the instant, to the parliament when the adhesion of the higher orders was beyond recall, all had been accomplislied perhaps : the parliament, pressed on all sides, would have agreed to every thing ; and this concession, though partial and forced, would have in all probability long retarded the im- pending struggle. No such course, however, was adopted. By im* prudent delays, time was given for zeal to cool ; the edicts were presented one after the other, and thus the parhament had opportunity to discuss, take courage, and recover from the sort of surprise in which the notables had been caught. It registered, after long debates, the edict for the abolition of com- pulsory labour, and another for allownng the free exportation of corn. Its antipathy was principally directed to the land-tax; but it was apprehensive that by its refusal the public woiUd too clearly per- ceive the interested motives of its opposition. It was hesitating, when the embarrassment was removed by the edict for the stamp-duty being laid before it at the same time as that for the land-tax, and by open- ing the discussion with the former. It was thus enabled to refuse the first, without pronoimcing upon the second ; and by attacking the stanip-duty, which affected the great majority of tax-payers, it seemed to be the champion of public interests. During a sitting in which the peers were present, it denoimced the abuses, the profligacy, and the prodigality of the court, and demanded states of f'xpenses. An advo- cate, playing on the word, exclaimed, " It is not stales, but states-general tliat we want." This unex- pected cry struck every body with astonishment. People had hitherto resisted because they suffered acutely ; they had aided all kinds of opposition, whether favourable or not to the popidar cause, pro- vided they were directed agamst the court, to which * Calonne was banished in 1788 to Lorraine, and joined the emigrant princes at Coblentz in r/91, after a short sojoiu-n in England. After nmning to and fro for several years, he diid at I'aris in 180i. He was born at Douay. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 29 every evil was attributed. But tliey scarcely knew what they should seek ; they had always iDeen so devoid of influence over the government, and so accustomed to conline tliemselves to complaints, that they kept murmuring witliout entertaining any idea of acting or provoking a revolution. A single word, opportunely uttered, suggested an unthouglit-of object ; every one repeated it, and the states-general were vociferously demanded. D'Espremenil, a young advocate, an impassioned orator, an agitator without purpose, a demagogue in the parliaments, an aristocrat in the states-general, and who was declared in a state of madness by a de- cree of the Constituent Assembly, exhibited liimself on this occasion as one of tlie most violent of the parlia- mentary declaimers. But the opposition was secretly directed by Dupont, a young man gifted with a capa- cious mind, and possessed of great firmness and per- severance, who alone, perhaps, amidst the present troubles, had a future in view, and designed to lead his class, the com-t, and the nation, to an end very different from a parliamentary aristocracy. The parliament was divided into old and young councillors. The first desired to form a counterpoise to the royal authority, in order to give weight and importance to their own body ; the last, more ardent and disinterested, desired to introduce liberty into the state, without, however, overturning the political system imder which they were born. In the mean time, a serious admission was made by the parliament ; it acknowledged that it had no power to sanction taxes, and that to the states-general alone belonged the right to impose them. It hkewise demanded from the king official statements of receipts and exjjenses. This avowal of incompetence, and even of usurpa- tion, might be justly considered extraordinary, since the parliament had hitherto arrogated to itself the right of warranting taxation. The ministry, irri- tated at such an opposition, instantly summoned the parhament to Versailles, and caused the two edicts to be registered in a bed of justice (6th August 1787). The i>arliament, on its return to Paris, entered solemn protests, and ordered prosecutions on accomit of the prodigalities of Calonne. An uumediate decree of the coimcil annulled its resolutions, and exiled it to Troyes. (15th Aug-ust.) Such was the position of affairs on the 15th August 1787. The two brothers of the king, Monsieiu: and the Comit d'Artois, Avere sent, the one to the court of accounts and the other to the court of aids, to pro- cure by them the registration of the edicts. The first had become popular from the opinions he had mani- fested in the assembly of the notables, and was hailed by the acclamations of an immense concourse of people, who escorted him back to the Luxemboiu-g amidst universal applause. The Count d'Artois, being- known to have supported Calonne, was assailed with murmurs, his attendants were attacked, and an armed force was found necessary for his protection. The parliaments had a numerous dependancy aroimd them, composed of lawyers, limctioiiaries of the courts of justice, clerks, and students ; an active stirring popu- lation, always ready to exert itself for their behoof. To those natural allies of the parUamcnts were joined the capitalists, who dreaded a national bankrujitcy ; the enlightened classes, who took part with all op- posers ; and finally, the multitude, which always fol- lows at the lieels of agitators. The disturbances were of a most serious description, and the executive had great tlifficulty in repressmg them. The parliament, sitting at Troyes, assembled daily, and called causes. Neither advocates nor attorneys appeared, and the course of justice was suspended, as had often happened during the century. The magis- trates, however, grew weary of their exile, and M. do Brienne was without funds. He boldly asserted tliat he wanted none, and calmed the court, anxious only upon chat one point ; but he was in fact utterly desti- tute, and, unable to terminate the diflScnlties of his position by an energetic determination, he entered into a negotiation with certain members of the parlia- ment. His conditions were a loan of 440 millions (about eighteen millions sterling), distributed over four years, at the expiration of which period the states- general should be convoked. On these terms, Brienne abandoned the two imposts, the causes of so many feuds. Assured of a few members, he thought him- self equally certain of the whole body ; and the parlia- ment was recalled on the 10th September. A royal sitting was held on the 20th of that month. The king came in person to present the edict con- taining provisions for the successive loan, and for the convocation of the states-general in five years. No explanation had been vouchsafed as to the nature of this sitting, and none knew whether it were intended as a bed of justice or not. A deep gloom sat on every countenance, and a profound stillness reigned ; when the Duke of Orleans rose, his features agitated, and evincing all the symptoms of strong emotion, and ad- dressing himself to the king, he asked him if the sit- ting were a bed of justice or a free assembly. " It is a royal sitting," replied the king. The councillors, Freteau, Sabatier, and D'Espremenil, spoke after the Duke of Orleans, and declaimed with their accustomed vehemence. The registration was forthwith enforced ; Freteau and Sabatier were exiled to the Isle of Hyeres, and the Duke of Orleans to ViUers-Cotterets. The states-general were prorogued for five years. Such were the prmcipal events of the year 1787. The year 1788 was ushered in by fresh hostilities. On the 4th January, the parliament passed a resolu- tion against arbitrary imprisonments (lettres de cachet), and for the recall of the persons exiled. The king quashed this resolution, and the parliament con- firmed it anew. In the mean time the Duke of Orleans was impatient under his exile at Villers-Cotterets. This prince, by his quarrel with the court, had enlisted public opinion in his behalf, though it had been at first unfavourable to him. Deficient equally in the dignity of a prince and the firmness of a tribime, he could not endure even so slight a pmiishment ; and to procure his recall he descended to sohcitations, even towards the queen, his personal enemy. Brienne was exasperated at obstacles which he lacked the energy to overcome. Inefficient abroad against Prussia, to which he sacrificed Holland, and inefficient at home against the parliaments and nobles of the kingdom, the queen was his only prop ; and, to add to his griefs, his labours were often suspended by bad health. He was incapable either of repressing insurrectionary movements or putting the retrench- ments in force Avhich had been ordered by the king ; yet in spite of the imminent exhaustion of the ex- chequer, he afiected an inconceivable serenity. How- ever, in the midst of all his difficulties, he was not so distracted as to forget heaping additional benefices on himself, and new dignities on his family. Lamoignon, the keeper of the seals, less feeble, but also less influential than the Archl)ishop of Toidouse, concerted with that prelate a new i)hin for striking at the political power of tlie parliaments ; for that was the main object of the executive at this period. It was of the last importance to preserve secrecy. All was prepared in sih^nce; private instructions were forwarded to the commanders of i)rovinces, and the office wliere the edicts were set in types was sur- rounded with guards. It was intended that the pro- ject sliould be made known only at the moment of its connnunication to the parliaments. Tiie time drew near, and rumours were rife that a great pohtical act was in agitation. Tlie Councillor D'Espremenil suc- ceeded in seducing by bribery a journeyman printer, and obtaining a copy of the edicts. He immediately proceeded to the Palace of Justice, called togeth('r his colleagues, and boldly denounced the ministerial HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. scheme. According to this plan, six great haili wicks, established in the jurisdiction of the parliament of Paris, were destined to curtail its too extended autho- rity ; whilst the riglit of judging in the last resort, and of registering laws and edicts, was transferred to a plenary court, to be composed of peers, prelates, ma- gistrates, and military officers, aU selected by the king. The captain of the guards, even, was intended to have a dehberative voice in it. This project at- tacked the judicial functions of the parliament, and utterly annihilated its political power. The members, struck with amazement, knew not what course to adopt. They coiild not deliberate upon a project wliich had not been submitted to them, and yet it behoved them to take care they were not surprised. In this state of embarrassment, they decided upon a hue of action at once strenuous and dexterous ; this was to sura up and consecrate in a resolution aU that they called the organic laws of the monarchy, nvjt omitting to comprise in their number the existence and the rights of parliament. By this general declaration, they completely avoided any seeming anticipation of the government designs, and guaranteed all that they desired. Consequently, on the 5th May, it was resolved by the parhament of Paris — " That France was a monarch}' governed by the king according to the laws ; and that of these laws, several, which were fundamental, embraced and con- secrated — 1, the right of the reigning family to the throne, male after male, in the order of primogeni- ture ; 2, the right of the nation freely to gi-ant subsi- dies through the organ of the states-general, regidarly convoked and composed ; 3, the customs and capitu- lations of the provinces ; 4, tlie irremovability of the magistrates ; 5, the right of the courts to verify in each province the decrees of the king, and to ordain their registration when conformable to the consti- tuent laws of the province, as well as to the funda- mental laws of the state ; 6, the right of every citizen never to be can-ied on any pretence before other judges than his natural judges, being those the law designed ; and, 7, the right, without which aU the others would be useless, of not being arrested, by any order what- soever, miless to be handed over to the jurisdiction of the competent tribmial. And that the said court protested against every scheme which might he aimed at the principles above expressed." The mmister answered this energetic resolution by the usual expedient, always a bad and fruitless one ; he wreaked his vengeance on certain members of tiie parliament. D'EspremenU and Goislart de Monsal- bert, learning that they were personally menaced, sought an asylum in the bosom of the assembled body. An officer, Vmcent d'Agoult, appeared at the head of a company, and not kno^ving the proscribed magis- trates, called them by their names. At first a deep silence reigned in the assembly ; but at length the councillors cried out that they were all D'Espremenils. The true D'Espremenil ultimately came forward, and followed the officer sent to arrest him. The tmnult was then at its height ; the people accompanied the magistrates, showering upon them benedictions. Throe days afterwards, the king commanded the registration of the edicts in a bed of justice-; and the assembled princes and nobles presented the image of that plenary court which was intended to supersede the parliaments. Tlie court of the Chatelet instantly passed a reso- lution against the edicts. The parhament of Remies declared all those infamous who shotdd enter the plenary court. At Grenoble, the mhabitants defended their magistrates against two regiments; the troops themselves, stinudated to mutiny by the nobles in the army, soon refused to act. ^Yllenthe commandant of Dauphiny assembled his colonels, to inqiure if their soldiers might be trusted, they all preserved silence. The youngest, who was called upon to speak first, replied that he could not answer for his men, from the colonel downwards. The minister met all this resist- ance by decrees of the privy-council, which annulled thedecisionsofthesovereign courts; and he fulminated a sentence of exile against eight of them. The court, goaded b}' the higher orders, who at- tacked it under cloak of the pubUc welfare, abetting the intervention of the people, took coimsel of its adversaries, and had recourse to the same expedient. It resolved to call the third-estate to its assistance, as the kings of France had formerly done to annihilate feudalism. It thereupon promoted, by aU its influence, the convocation of the states-general. It instituted inquu'ies into the manner of assembling them ; it invited authors and learned bodies to give their opi- nions ; and, whdst the congregated clergy declared that it was necessary to hasten the period of their convocation, the court, entering the Usts wifh promp- titude, suspended the. plenary court, and fixed the opening of the states-general for the 1st of May 1789 Then occurred the retirement of the Archbishop of Toulouse (24th August 1788), who, by his rash and feebly executed projects, had provoked a resistance, which he ought either never to have excited or to have boldly overcome. At his retreat from the administration, he left the exchequer in want, the dividends of the Hotel de VUle in suspension, all the authorities in antagonism, and all the provinces hi arms. As to himself, invested with benefices yielding an income of 800,000 francs, with the arclibishopric of Sens, and Avith a cardinal's purple, if he did not make the pubhc fortune, he at all events made his own. As his last advice, he urged the king to recall Nec^er to the finance department, in order to take advantage of his popidarity in meeting an o^jposition of so for- midable a character. It was during the two years 1787 and 1788, that the French people made the transition from vain theories to practical views. The contests amongst the high authorities had aroused the desire and presented the opportmiity. In the course of the century, the par- liament had assaulted the clergy, and exposed their papal tendencies ; from the clergy it had proceeded to tlie court, proclaimed its abuses of jiower, and execrated its profligacy. Being- threatened with re- prisals, and rendered uneasy as to its own existence, it came at last to the determination of restorinj^ nation those prerogatives the court would have torn from it, with the intention of conferring them on a new and extraordinary tribunal. After having thus apprised the nation of its rights, it had exerted its powers in stimulating and protecting insurrection. And on their respective parts, the dignified clergy, by issuing mandates, and the nobility, by fomenting the spirit of disobedience amongst the troops, had joined their efforts to those of the magistracy, and sum- moned the people to arms for the defence of their own peculiar privileges. Pressed by so many enemies, the court had resisted but feebly. Alive to the necessity of acting, and yet always deferring the moment, it had occasionally re- moved certain abuses, rather to profit the treasm-y than the people, and had forthwith relapsed into inertion. At last, when stormed in its stronghold from every quarter, and when it perceived that the higher orders called the people to the combat, it had resolved to take the hiitiative in leading them to the field bj' convoking the states-general. Opposed during the whole course of the century to the philosophical spirit, it now made an appeal to that gi-eat antagonist, and gave up to its examination the constitutions of the realm. Thus, the first aiithorities in the state presented the singular spectacle of wrongous holders, disputing a possession in presence of the legitimate owner, and ending by appealing to him as their judge. Aflairs were at this pass when Necker returned to the ministry. Confidence attended him, credit was instiuitaneouslj' restored, and the most pressing- diffi- culties were got rid of He provided by temi)orary HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 31 expedients for indispensable expenses, whilst waiting for the states-general, the miiversally anticipated panacea. Already important questions relative to their orga- nisation, began to be agitated. The part to be borne therein by the third-estate was the subject of lively discussion, involving the points, whether it should appear on a footing of equality or subordination ; whether it should possess a representation numeri- cally equal to that of the two first orders ; whether the votes should be taken individually or by orders, and whether the commons should have only one voice against the two voices of the nobles and the clergy. T\.e first question to be settled was the number of the deputies. No ijhilosophical controversy of the eighteenth century, however warm, had excited an agitation of equal violence. The vast actual impor- tance of the point gave a zest to its discussion, Avhieli mflamed the whole nation. One concise, forcible, caiistic writer, gained a rank in this contest which the great minds of the century had procured in phi- losophical warfare. The Abbe Sieyes, in a work which gave an extraordinary impulse to the public mind, inqmred, " What is the third estate?" And he answered, " Nothing." " What ought it to be ? — Everything." The states of Dauphiny assembled in spite of the court. The two first orders, more sagacious and of more popular tendencies in that province than any where else, decided that the representation of the third-estate should be equal to that of the nobility and clergy. The parliament of Paris, already dis- cerning the consequences of its imprudent provoca- tions, clearly perceived that the third-estate would come, not as an auxiliary, but as a master ; and on registering the edict of convocation, it enjoined by an express clause the observance of the forms of 1614, which utterly annihilated the influence of the third- estate. Having previously endangered its popularity by the difficulties it had opposed to the edict Avhich restored civil immunities to the Protestants, it Avas on this occasion completely unmasked, and the com-t fully avenged. It was the first to experience the in- stability of popular favour ; but if the nation, in after times, might appear ungTateful to the leaders whom it abandoned one after the other, it was now perfectly justified towards the parliament, for it stop^jed short before the nation had recovered any one of its rights. The com-t, not ventmring of itself to decide these important questions, or rather wishing to render the first orders mipopular for its own advantage, deter- mined to ask their opinions, intending at the same time not to heed them should they be, as was pro- bable, unfavourable to the third-estate. It therefore convoked a new assembly of notables, in which all the questions touching the constitution of the states-gene- ral were brought forward for discussion.* The debates were animated ; on one side old traditions were rehed upon, on the other, natural rights and reason. Even in appealing to traditions, the cause of the com- mons had the vantage-ground ; for, to the forms of 1614, upon Avhich such stress was laid by the higher orders, forms yet more ancient were opposed. Thus, in certain meetings, and upon certain points, the votes had been taken by tale ; sometimes the deliberations had been by provinces instead of by orders; and fre- quently the deputies of the third-estate had equalled in number the deputies of the nobility and clergy. How then were these ancient usages to be reconciled ? In truth, the powers of the state had been in a con- stant state of revolution. The royal authority itself, first supreme, then hinnbled and stripped, rising afresh by the aid of the people, and concentrating all powers in itself, presented an aspect of perpetual strife, and an ever-varying limit of possession. It * Tliis assembly opened at Versailles on the (!th Novenibcr, and closed its session on the 8th December foUowuig. was justly said to the clergy, that if reference to the olden time were decisive, they would be no longer an order ; to the nobles, that the possessors of fiefs alone, by the same test, were eligible to sit, and that thus the majority of them would be excluded from the deputa- tion ; to the parliaments themselves, that tliey were but unfaithful officers of tlie crown ; — in a word, to the whole of them, that the French constitution was but a long revolution, in the course of which each power had successivel}' predominated ; that aU had been a series of imiovations, and that in the present mighty conflict reason alone ought to decide. The third-estate comprehended almost the entirety of the nation — all the pi-oductive, useful, and enlight- ened classes ;* if it held only a portion of the lands, it at all events rendered the whole of them fruitful ; and, according to reason, it was simply fair tluit it should have a numerical equality in the representation with the two other orders. The assembly of notables pronounced against what it called the doubhng of the third-estate. A single committee, over which Monsieur, the king's brother, presided, gave its suffrage for this doubling. There- upon the court, taking into consideration, as it said, " the opinion of the minority and of several princes of the blood, the desire of the three orders of Dauphiny, the prayer of the provincial asseml)lies, the example of divers countries possessing similar institutions, the opinion of various publicists, and the hope expressed in a great n\imber of addresses," ordained that the total number of the deputies should be at least one thou- sand ; that they should be chosen upon a combined basis of population and contribution in each bailiwick : and that the nmnber of deputies from the third-estate should be equal to that from the two higher orders miited. (Decree in council, 27th December 1788.) This declaration excited universal enthusiasm. Being attributed to Necker, it greatly augmented his favom- with the nation, and his odium with the mag- nates. Still, nothing was decided in this document as to the vote by members or by orders ; but it prac- tically comprehended the solution of the question, for it was useless to increase the voices if they were not to be coimted ; and it left to the third-estate itself the charge of carrying, by a forcible demonstration, what was withheld for tlie moment. Thus it gave a strik- ing idea of the Aveakness of the court and of Necker himself. In fact, this court was swayed by such a mul- tiplicity of wiUs, that any decisive resolution w as almost impossible. The king was moderate, just, weU-dis- posed, and only too doubtful of his own j udgment ; really loving the people and forward to receive then- com- plaints ; he was, nevertheless, at times beset by panics and superstitious fears, and thought he saw anarchy and impiety stalking alongside of liberty and tolera- tion. The philosoijhical spii'it, at its first burst, Avas sure to wander into extravagance, and a timid and I'cligious prince was equally sure to take alarm. Terrors, doubts, and imbecile emotions, perpetually working on his mind, the unfortunate Louis XVI., prepared for all sacrifices affecting himself, but incap- able of imposing them on others, the victim of his easy disposition towards the coixrt and his deference towards the queen, had to expiate numberless faults not of his own commission, but which became his because he had allowed them to be committed. The queen, fond of pleasure, and exerting around her the magic influence of her charms, was wishful that her husband should enjoy tranquillity, that the exchequer should be well filled, and that she herself should reign in all liearts. Sometimes she Avas in miison Avitli the king upon the subject of reforms, Avhen their necessity appeared urgent, and at other times, on the contrary when she imagined authority menaced, or her court- * " 'The third-estate is the French nation, less the nobilitj anil clergy.' In this phrase consists the wholt! groundwork of M Sieyes' pamphlet."— Guuo^'i- History s. In them were canvassed the abuses to sup- press, the reforms to effect, and the constitution to establish. The effect of a severe examination into the condition of the country was the more fiercely to exasperate the mind, for in truth its political and social state was perfectly intolerable. Every thing was monopoly in individuals, classes, towns, provinces, and even trades. Shackles were upon all that apper- tained to the industry and the genius of man. Civil, ecclesiastical, aud miUtary dignities were exclusively reserved to certain classes, and in those classes to cer- tain individuals. No profession could be embraced, except upon certain qualifications and certain pecu- niary conditions. The towns had their privileges for the settlement, the collection, and the quota of taxa- tion, and for the choice of magistrates. The very sinecures were converted by reversions into family properties, and the monarch had but little power to indulge in preferences. Only a few pecuniary gifts remained at his disposition ; and so trammelled was he in this respect, that the Duke de Coigny main- tained against him that he had no power to suppress a useless office. Every thing, therefore, was stagnant in a tew hands, and in every quarter the smaller number was in hostile array against the plundered mass. Burdens pressed upon a single class alone. Tlie nobility and clergy possessed nearly two-thirds of the lands : the other third, held by the commons, paid taxes to the king, a mvdtitude of feudal dues to the nobles, tithes to the clergy, and suffered, in addi- tion, the devastations of noble sportsmen and of the game. Articles of consumption being heavily taxed, were enhanced in price, and injuriously affected the largest body, namely, the people. The collection likewise was vexatious : the noliles remained in arrear with perfect impunity, but the people, on the con- trary, were maltreated, immured, and condenmed to expiate m their persons a deficiency in fortune. Thus tliey sustained in affluence, by oppressive toil, and defended, at the expense of their blood, those higher classes of society which denied to them the very means of existence. The burgher class, industrious, enlight- ened, less unhappy, doubtless, than the people, but enriching the kingdom l)y industrial labours, and illustrating it by eminent talents, possessed none of those imm\mities to which it had so undoubted3_ right. Justice, administered in some of the provmces hy t'jie nobles, and in the royal jurisdictions by magis- trates elevated to the judicial bench by purchase, was tardy, often partial, alwaj-s ruinous, and in criminal prosecutions absolutely atrocious. Individual liberty was violated by arbitrary warrants of arrest (Jettres de cachet), and the liberty of the press by royal cen- sors. Finally, France itself, ill supported abroad, betrayed by Louis XV.'s courtezans, and compromised by the imbecility of Louis XV'I.'s ministers, had been recently dishonoured in the eyes of Europe by the disgraceful sacrifice of Holland and Poland. Already the popular masses began to be agitated : even during the parliamentary contest frequent riots had occurred, and at the retirement of the Archbishop of Toulouse such troubles became more serious. His effigy had been burnt, the armed force insulted and even assaulted, and the agitators feebly prosecuted by the magistracy. The minds of men, violently stimu- lated, and impressed with a confused idea of an impend- ing revolution, were in a continual buzz of excitement. Tlie parliaments and higher orders even thus earlj- experienced the thrusts of those weapons they had given to the people. In Brittnny, the nobility had declared against the doubling of the third-estate, and refused to nominate deputies. The burgliers, who had so strenuously aided it against the court, there- upon rose against it, and bloody conflicts ensued. The court, not yet sufficiently avenged upon the Breton nobility, had not only denied it succour, but %^^^r///. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLLTTION. 33 even incarcerated some of its members who had come to Paris with complaints. The elements themselves seemed mibridled. A hail-storm on the 13th July had laid waste the crops, and rendered the provisioning of Paris extremely difficult, especially amidst the troubles in agitation. All the activity of commerce scarcely sufficed to concentrate the necessary quantity of food in tliat immense metropohs, and just apprehensions were entertained that it would be shortly impossible to fm-nish subsistence to its population, when political conflicts should shatter confidence and interrupt the communications. Since the severe winter which fol- lowed the dismal reverses of Louis XIV., and immor- talised the charity of Fenelon, none so rigorous had been witnessed as that of 1788-89. The benevolence, which was displaj^ed in the most touching manner, was inadequate to mitigate the sufferings of the people. From all tlie corners of France a number of vagabonds, without profession or resources, had flocked to Ver- sailles and Paris, and paraded their wretcliedness and nakedness on the streets and highways. At the least disturbance they were seen to rush eagerly forward, to profit by chances always favourable to those who have all to gain, even to their daily bread. Thus all things concurred to promote a revolution. An entire century had contributed to unfold abuses, and drive them to the pitch of aggravation. The last two years had served to excite revolt, and to accustom the popular masses to arms, by the appeal to their intervention in the quarrels of the privileged orders. Finally, the scourges of unpropitioiis nature, and a fortuitous concourse of adverse circumstances, pro- voked the catastrophe, the era of which might be retarded, but was sooner or later inevitable. In the midst of these portents, the elections occurred. In some provinces they were tumultuous, in aU active ; but in Paris calm, since great unanimity of sentiment prevailed in that city. Lists were distributed, and en- deavom's made to act in unison, and in a spirit of mutual concession. Merchants, advocates, and men of letters, surprised at beholding themselves gathered together for the first time, gradually rose to the comprehension of liberty. At Paris, they themselves re-nominated the committees formed by the king, and, without changing the persons, gave efficacy to their authority by their own confirmation. The learned Bailly quitted his retreat at Chaillot ; unused to intrigues, and pro- foundly moved at his noble mission, he proceeded alone and on foot to the assembly. As he went, he tarried for a moment on the terrace of the Feuillants : a yoimg man unknown to him saluted the phUosofjher with respect. " You will be elected," said he. " I know not," replied Bailly ; " the honour ought to be neither solicited nor refused." The modest academi- cian resumed his walk, appeared in the assembly, and was successively named elector and deputy. The election of the Count de Mirabeau was stormy : repudiated by the nobility, and welcomed by the third- estate, he convulsed Provence, the seat of his nativity, and soon exhibited himself at Versailles. The court took no measures to influence the elec- tions : it was not sorry to see a great number of parish l)riests chosen, as it made sure of their opposition to the great ecclesiastical dignitaries, and at the same time of their reverence for the throne. Besides, it was not overburdened with prescience ; and the deputies of the commons appeared to it the opponents of tlie no- bility rather than of itself. The Duke of Orleans was accused of streimous eflTorts to procure the election of his partisan^, as well as of himself. Already marked amongst the adversaries of the court, the ally of the parliaments, invoked as a leader, by liis own con- nivance or otherwise, by the popular part}-, various intrigues were imputed to him. A deplorable scene took place in the faubom-g Saint Antoine ; and as an author must be fomid for every important event, he was held responsible for tlie present. A manulacturer of stained paper, by name Reveillon, who by his su- perior skill maintained large workshops, improved native art, and furnished subsistence to three Inmch-ed labourers, was charged with a design to reduce wages one-half. A mob threatened to burn down his house. It was dispersed, but collected again the following day (27th April), when the house was carried, set on fire, and comi)letely gutted. Notwithstanding the menaces held out by the assailants on the previous day, and the open agreement to congregate on the morrow, the authorities interfered with great tardi- ness, and, when they did so, acted with excessive rigour. They waited until the mob was in possession of the house, then made a furious attack upon it, and were compelled to kill several of those ferocious and intrepid men, who afterwards showed themselves upon all occasions, and who received the name of brigands. AU the parties that had.already taken form accxised each other : the court was reproached with its early slowness and subsequent butchery; it was alleged that it had desired to ch-aw the people into violence, in order to make an example, and give exercise to the soldiers. Money being found on the rioters, and certain words which fell from some of them, originated the suspicion that they were stimvdated and led by a secret hand ; and the enemies of the popidar party charged the Duke of Orleans with having designed to make a trial of these revolutionary bandits. This prince was born with many excellent qualities, and had inherited an immense patrimony ; but, aban- doning hunself to evil habits, he had abused aU these gifts of nature and fortmie. Without consistency of character, alternately reckless of opinion and greedy of popularity, he was bold and ambitious one day, sulnnissive and indiflTerent the next. Having quar- relled with the queen, he had declared enmity against the court. Wlien parties began to be formed, he had allowed his name, and, as it was said, his wealth, to be made use of Indulging in some vague future, he did enough to found accusations, not enough to suc- ceed ; and if his partisans really entertained anj^ pro- jects, he must have ruined them by his inconstancy of purpose. CHAPTER IL THE STATES-GENERAL. The moment for the assembling of the states-general was at last arrived. With a sense of their conmion danger, the higher orders, making their peace with the court, rallied round the princes of the blood and the queen. They endeavoured to gain the country gentlemen by a show of courtesy, whilst they laughed at their rusticity behind their backs. The clergy strove to captivate the plebeians of their order, and the mihtary nobility to win those belonging to the army. The parliaments, -which had looked forward to the post of chief influence in tlie states-general, began to fear that their ambition had miscalculated. The deputies of the third-estate, strong in the supe- riority of talent, and in the energetic language of their instructions, fortified by continuul intercourse, and stimulated by the very doubts which were expressed of tlie success of their efforts, were resolute in their determination not to yield. The king alone, who had not enjoyed an interviil of repose since his accession to the throne, beheld in tlie states-general the termination of embarrassments. Although jealous of liis authorit,v, rather for his chil- dren, to whom he thought liimsclf bound to leave an unbroken jiatriinony, tlian for himself, he was by no means loath to surrender a ixn-tioii to the nation, and throw upon it some of the difficulties of government. Thus he made preparations for this great as.sembly witli alacrity and joy. A hall was made ready with all haste. The costumes even were arranged, and .34 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. humiliating etiquette imposed upon the third-estate. Men are nut less jealous of their dignity than of their rights ; and with j ustifiuhlc pride, the instructions for- hade the deputies to demean themselves by any degrad- ing; ceremonial. This new f;udt of the court sprang, like all the others, from the wish to maintain the sjnnbol at least, when the substance was already gone. It was certain to cause deep irritation at a moment when, before joining battle, the parties paused in a mutual survey. A solemn procession took place on the 4th May, the eve of the opening. The king, the three orders, and all the dignitaries of the state, marched to the church of Notrc-Dame in Versailles. The court mani- fested an extraordinary magnificence. The two first orders were superbly apparelled. AU the princes, dukes, peers, gentrj', and prelates, were clothed in purple, and wore plumed hats on their heads. The deputies of the commons, clad in simple black mantles, followed in the rear, and, in spite of their unpretend- ing exterior, appeared formidable by their number and their anticipated might. It was remarked, that Ihe Duke of Orleans, placed in the last rank of tlie nobility, affected to remain behind and mingle with the first deputies of the commons. This national, military, and religious pomp, the solemn chants, the warlike instruments, and above all, the grandem- of the event, made a profoimd im- pression on the hearts of all. The discourse of tlie Bishop of Nanci, replete -^^-ith generous sentiments, was ftpplaiided with enthusiasm, notwithstanding the presence of the king and the sanctity of the place. Such assemblies tend to elevate the soul, to wean men from selfishness, and draw them into closer brother- hood : a general rapture was diffused, and more than one heart felt an irresistiljle impulse to dispel its lurk- ing animosities, and melt into emotions of philan- thropy and patriotism.* * I would not have cited the following passage from the Memoire of Ferriferes, if base detractors had not souglit to mis- represent all the scenes of tlie French Revolution. The extract I am about to present will give an idea of the effect whicli tlie national solemnities of that great epoch produced on minds the least plebeian. " I yield to the pleasure of here recording the impression that this august and touching ceremony made upon me ; I will copy the account that I wrote down at the time, when still full of wh.Tt I had felt. If this relation be not historiciil, it will possess with some readers perhaps a more lively interest. The nobles in black coats, vests and f:icings of cloth of gold, silk mantles, lace cravats, plumed hats, turned up a la Henri IV. ,- the clergj' in cassocks, large cloaks, square caps ; the bishops with their purple robes and lawn sleeves; the commons dressed in black, cloaks of silk, and cambric cravats. The king was seated on a platfomi, richly decorated ; Monsieur, the Coimt d'Artois, the princes, the ministers, and the great officers of the crown, were scited below the king ; the quet-n sat oppo.->ite him ; Madame, the Countess d'Artois, the princesses, and the ladies of the coui't, all superbly dressed and covered with diamonds, com- posed around her a magnificent eortcfgc. The streets were liung with tapestries of the crown ; the regiments of French and Swiss guards formed a line from Notre-Bame to St Louis ; an immense foncourbC gazed at us passing in respectful silence ; the balconies were ornamented with precious stuffs, the windows filled with spec- tators of both sexes and of all ages, with beautiful women elegantly attired. The variety of fashions and costumes, the amiable emo- tions depicted on every countenance, the joy spiirkling in every eye, the clapping of hands, the expressions of sj-mpathy, the eager looks which met us and followed us even after we were out of sight— all presented a ravLshing. an enchanting picture, which I would vainly strive to embody in words. Bands of music, stationed at intervals, made the air resound with melodious tones ; the mar- tial tunes, the roar of drums, the clang of trumpets, the solemn chant of tl;e priests, heard in tirni without discordance, without confusion, animated the triumphant march to the temple of the Eternal. Shortly plunged into the sweetest ecstiicj-, fublinie but mel.in- choly thoughts offered themselves to my mind. Fmnc-e, my coun- try, I saw, leaning on religion, s;iying to us, ' Cease your puerile iiuiirrele ; now is the decibive moment which is to give me a new The opening of the states-general occurred on the follo^ving day, the 5th May 1789. The king was seated on an elevated throne, the queen near him, the court in galleries, the two first orders on each side, the third-estate in the background of the hall and upon lower benches. A mtirmur arose at sight of the Count do Mirabeau ; but his gaze and bearing aAved the dis- turbers. The third-estate wore their hats as well as tlie other orders, contrary to established precedent. The king delivered a speech, in which he recom- mended disinterestedness to some, wisdom to others, and to all he spoke of his love for the people. The keeper of the seals, Barentin, afterwards pronounced a discourse, and was followed by Necker, who read a memorial upon the state of the kingdom, in which he descanted largely upon the finances, proclaimed a deficit of fifty-six millions, and wearied with his ver- bosity those who were not disgusted Avith his egotism. It was prescribed that each order should, on the morrow, repair to the locality ti.Kcd for it. Besides the common hall, which was sufficiently capacious to contain the three luiited orders, two other chambers had been erected for the nobility and clergy. The common hall was appropriated to the third-estate, which had thus the advantage, whilst in its OAvn loca- lity, of being also in that of the states-general. The first operation to go through was tlie verification of the powers, and it was of importance to decide whether it shoidd take place in common, or separately by orders. The deputies of the third-estate, alleging that it be- hoved each division of the states-general to be assiu*ed of the legitimacy of the other two, demanded the veri- fication m common. The nobility and clergy, anxious existence, cr extinguish me for ever !' Love for mj- country, how thou spokest to my heart then ! "WHiat ! disturbers, ambitious fools, vUe intriguers, seek in their crooked policy to disunite luy country ! — they will found their destructive systems on insidious pretences ; they wiU say to thee, thou hast two interests ; and all thy glory and all thy power, so envied by thy neighbours, will be scattered as a light vapour borne upon a southern breeze. No, I pronounce before thee the oath — may my withered tongue cling to my palate, if ever I forget thy grandeur and solemnities .' How religious ceremonies enhanced the lustre of this mere human pomp! AVithout thee, venerable rehgion, it had been but a vain pai-ade of mortal pride ; but thou purifiest and sancti- fiest, thou aggi'andisest grandeur itself .' The kings, the mighty of the age, also render, if even with feigned reverence, their homiige to the King of kings. Yes, to God alone belongs honour, empire, glorj'. These holy ceremonies, these songs, these priest* in garbs of sacrifice, these perfumed odours, this glittering canopy, this sun streaming in golden and jewelled rays — I called to mind the words of the prophet : ' Daughters of Jerusalem, j'our king comes ; take your nuptial g.arments and nm to greet him.' Teiuu of joy gushed from my eyes. My God, my country, my coimti-y- men had become me — one. Arrived at St Louis, tha three orders seated themselves on benches placed in the nave. The king and queen took their places under a canopy of azure velvet, sprinkled with golden tleurs-dc-lis ; the princes, princesses, gi-eat officers of the crowTi, and ladies of the palace, occupied the inclosurj reserved for their majesties. The holy sacrament was borne upon the altar to the Sound of the most impressive music. There was an Oh Salutaris Hostia. This hymn, so natural and trutliful, melodious, freed from the noise of instruments which smother the expression ; this exquisite harmony of voices, swelling and rising to the heavens, confirmed me that the simple is always beautiful, al- ways grand, always sublime. Men are fools, in their vam wisdom, to treat with ridicule the worship that is offered to the EteniaL IIow c;m they behold with indifference that moral chain which unites man to God — which renders the deity visible to the eye, sensible to the touch? M. do la Fare, Bishop of Nanci, pro- nounced the discourse. Religion constitutes the strength of empires ; religion causes the happiness of nations. This truth, which no wise man ever for a moment doubted, was not the im- portant question to treat in this august assembly ; the place, the circumstance, opened a yet vaster field : the Bishop of Nanci either durst or could not traverse it. The following day the deputies met in the hall of the Menuu. The assembly was not less imposing, or the spectacle less magni- ficent than the day before." — Memoirs nj'tlic Marquis (ie Fcrricris, co!. i. i>. la HISTORY OF THE FKENCH REVOLUTION. 35 to maintain the division of the orders, argued that each ought to constitute itself separately. This ques- tion did not compreliend that of voting individually or otherwise, for the powers might be verified in com- mon, and the deliberations be subsequently pursued apart; but still it bore considerable resemblance thereto, and from the very first day it provoked a dispute which it required little foresight to have anti- cipated, and small ability to have prevented, by de- ciding the question beforehand. But the court never had the courage to refuse or to grant what was just, and it fm-thermore flattered itself with the hope of ruling by promoting divisions. The deputies of the third-estate remained as- sembled in the common hall, abstaining from aU ac- tion, and waiting, as they said, for the junction of their colleagues. The nobility and clerg}^ seated in their respective chambers, proceeded to deliberate upon the verification. The clergy voted the separate verification by a majority of 133 to 114, and the nobi- lity by one of 188 to 114. The commons, persisting in their inaction, continued on the following day their conduct of the preceding one. They adhered to the plan of avoiding every measure which might be con- strued into an acknowledgment of their constitution as a distinct order. Accordingly, when deputing cer- tain of their members to the two other chambers, they took care not to give them any express commission. They were sent to the nobility and clergy simply to notify to them that they waited for them in the com- mon hall. The nobility were not sitting at the moment, but the clergy were assembled, and offered to appoint comuussioners to reconcile the disputes that had arisen. They consequently adopted that course, and invited the nobility to follow their ex- ample. In this preliminary contest, the clergy evinced a very different spirit from the nobles. Amongst all the privileged classes, they had suffered most from the attacks of the eighteenth century ; their political existence had been disputed, and they were disunited from the mmierous body of simple priests included in their delegation. Besides, their bounden part was to invoke moderation and the spirit of peace, and, in accordance therewith, they proffered, as we have seen, a species of mediation. The nobility, on the contrary, rejected aU nego- tiation by refusing to name commissioners. Less pru- dent than the clergy, less dubious of their rights, and not holding themselves bound to moderation, but rather to an overbearing demeanour, they fulminated repudiations and menaces. Those very men who pardoned no passion in others, gave unlimited play to their own, and obej^ed the impidse, Uke most large bodies, of the most violent spirits. Cazales and D'Espremenil, recently ennobled, carried the adoption of inflanmiatory motions, which they drew up before- hand in private meetings. It was in vain that a minority, composed of men either more sagacious or more prudently ambitious, attempted to reason with these fiery nobles ; they would listen to no remon- strance, but spoke of fighting and dying, as they asserted, for tlie laws and justice. The commons, inmiovable in their purpose, received all these out- rages with exemplary calmness ; they brooded in silence upon their injuries, exhibiting the prudence and firmness of all powers at their commencement, and gaining the applause of those galleries, first of all appropriated to the comrt, but soon usurped by the pubhc. Several days had already elapsed. The clergy had attempted to ensnare the connnons, by proposing to di-aw them into certain acts, which would have given them the character of a constituted order. But they had constantly rejected the overtures ; and, adopting ■ only such measures as were indispensable to their internal regidation, they had hniited their action to the choice of a dean and assistants, in order to collect the votes. They refused to open letters addressed to them, and declared themselves to form, not an order, but flw (tssembly of citizens met by virtue of a legitimate authority in expectation of other citizens. The nobility, after having declined to appoint nego- tiators, consented at last to delegate members to confer with the other orders ; but the commission intrusted to them became inoperative, because they were charged to declare at the same time that thp decision of the Gth May, which enjoined the separate verification, would be persisted in. The clergy, on the contrary, faitliful to their function, had suspended the verification already commenced in their own chamber, and pronounced themselves unconstitutcd, until the issue of the conferences to be held by the commissioners. These conferences were opened ; the clergy took no part in the discussion ; the deputies of the commons exposed their reasons with calmness, those of the no))ility with violence. They separated more embittered by the dispute ; and the third-estate, with its determination to yield nothing, was certainly not displeased to learn that all arrangement was be- come impossible. The nobility heard its commis- sioners give daily assurance that they had been supe- rior in argument, and its arrogance swelled at the reports. By a fleeting gleam of prudence, the two first orders passed a resolution that they renounced their pecuniary privileges. The commons accepted the concession, but swerved not from their inaction, still always claiming the common verification. The conferences were continued, and a proposition was at lengtli made that, in order to accommodate the diffe- rences, the powers should be verified by commissioners chosen from the three orders. The delegates of the nobility declared, in the name of their order, its re- fusal to accede to this arrangement, and withdrew without fijcing a day for any fresh conference. The negotiation was thus at an end. The same day, the nobility came to a resolution, by which it declared once more that the verification should, for this session, be made separately, leaving to the states the task of determining upon any other mode for the future. This resolution was communicated to the commons on tlie 27th May. The states had met on the 5th, tlierefore twenty-two days had elapsed withoxit any thing being done. It was high time to determine this state of things. Mirabeau, who gave the impulse to the popular party, pressed \ipon attention that an iimnediate decision was incumbent, and that it was absolutely necessary to commence the public business, which had been too long delayed. He proposcl, therefore, in consequence of the known resolution of the nobles, to siimmon the clergy to give an innne- diate explanation, and declare at once whether tho^'^ would or woidd not join the commons. The proposition was instantly ado})ted. The Deputy Target set out at the head of a numerous deputation, and i)roceeded to the hall of the clergy. " Tiie commons invite the clergy," said he, " in the name of the God of peace, and in that of the national interest, to unite Mith them in the hall of the asseml)ly, to d(>liberate on the means of securing concord, so necessary at this moment to the s.ifety of the connnonwealth." The clergy we!-e struck by these solemn words ; many of them responded with acclamations, and wished to accept the invita- tion upon the instant ; but they were prevented, and the members of the commons were answered that their message woiUd be taken into consideration. On tlie returnof thedejjutation, thetliinl-estate, inexorable in its determination, resolved to prolong the sitting until the answer of the clergy was received. Tliis answer not arriving, a message was sent, intimating tliat it was impatiently awaited. Tlie clergy complained of being hurried, and demanded that the necessary time should be granti'd them. Tliey were answered with moderation, that they could consume as nmcli time as they thought fit, and that their decision woidd be waited for, if it were necessary, all day and all night The position was critical. The clergy were awiire 36 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. that after their decision was pronoimced, the coninions would proceed to ^vork, and take a decisive part. Thej^ wished to temporise, in order to concert measures with the court, and therefore asked until the next day, which delay was granted with reluctance. The fol- lowing day, the king, now so desired hy the tw o tirst orders, determined to interfere. At this period, all the enmities of the court and the higher orders began to be forgotten, at sight of that popular power which was rising with such formidable rapidity. The king, then, coming forward in the extremity, invited the three orders to resume the conferences in presence of his keeper of the seals. The third-estate, whatever may be said of its projects, which have been judged in reference to events, did not push its hopes beyond a limited monarchy. Knowing the intentions of Louis XVI., it was fidl of respect for him ; and besides, being unwilling to injure its cause by anj' Avrong, it answered that, from deference to the king, it consented to the resiunption of the conferences, though, after the decla- rations of the nobility, they must be considered hope- less. To this reply it appended an address, which it deputed its dean to deliver to the monarch. This dean was Bailly, a man simple and virtuous, illustrious for his merit, learning, and modesty, who had been suddenly transported from the noiseless studies of his cabinet to the tumidt of civil discord. Chosen to preside over a large assembly, he had felt alarm at so novel a task, believed himself mi worthy to perform it, and submitted to it only from a sense of duty. But, rising at once to the exigences of the crisis, he found in himself an unexpected tirmness and presence of mind ; amidst so many conflicts, he vindicated the majesty of the assembly, and acted for it with all the dignity of virtue and reason. Bailly had the greatest ditRculty in reaching the king. When he insisted upon being introduced, the courtiers objected that he had not paid due respect to the grief of the monarch, afflicted by the demise of the dauphin. At last he was presented, avoided aU humiliatmg ceremonial, and evinced equal firmness and respect. The king received him with kindness, but without explaining his intentions. The government, having already decided upon sub- mitting to some sacrifices to gain supplies, hoped, by keeping the orders in opposition, to become their arbiter, to wrest from the nol)ility its pecuniary privi- leges with the aid of the third-estate, and to curb the ambition of the latter by means of the nobility. As to the nobles, being supremely indifferent to the em- barrassments of the administration, and thinking only of the sacrifices in store for themselves, they wished to provoke the dissolution of the states-general, and render tlieir convocation fruitless. Tlie commons, whom the court and higher orders refused to recognise under that title, and always styled the third-estate, continuaOy acquired fresh strength, and, determined as they were to brave aU dangers, were steadfast in their resolution not to allow an occasion which might never return to slip from their grasp. The conferences requested by the king were held. The envoj's of the nobility started difficulties upon ^vcry point, such as the title of Cummons, which the third-estate had assumed, and the form and signature of the minutes. At last, they entered upon the dis- cussion, and they were almost reduced to silence by the reasons brought against them, when Necker pro- posed, on the king's part, a new mode of reconciliation. By this project, each order was to examine its powers separately, and eonununicate them to the others ; and in case difficulties arose, commissioners were to make a report of them to each chamber, and if the decision of the different orders were not uniform, the king was to judge in the last resort. Thus the court would have cut the knot very jirofitably for itself. The conferences were forthwith suspended, to obtain the adhesion of the orders. The clergy accepted the project simply and imconditionally. The nobility received it at first with favour; but, xu-ged by its ordinary instigators, it contemned the coimsel of the most prudent of its members, and idtimately modified the scheme. From that day all its misfortimes may be dated. The commons, apprised of this resolution, waited until it shoidd be formally comniimicated to them to explain themselves in tlieir turn ; but the clergy, with their ordinary astuteness, designing to throw them into a false position with the nation, sent a deputation to them, with a request that they Avoidd join with them in deliberation upon the misery of the people, which every day was aggravating, and devote tlieu* united energies, without further delay, to the mitigation of the scarcity and dearness of provisions. The com- mons, who would have been exposed to popular odium if they had appeared indifferent to such a proposition, retorted the manoeuvre by another, and replied, that, deeply sensible of the same duties, they awaited the clergy in the great hall, for the purpose of entering with them upon those important objects. The nobi- lity afterwards arrived, and solemnly communicated its resolution to the commons. It adopted, as it said, the plan of conciliation, but persisted in the separate verification, and deferred to the united orders and the supreme jurisdiction of the king, only so far as re spected any difficulties that might arise touching the aggregate deputations of an entire i)rovince. This resolution put an end to all the embarrass- ments of the commons. If the plan of conciliation had been adopted, they would have been compelled either to yield or to declare themselves at war with the upper orders and the throne ; but the acceptance ol the plan being burdened with serious modifications, they were relieved from explanation altogether. The moment was decisive of events. To concede the sepa- rate verification was not, it is ti'ue, to concede the vote by orders ; but once to evince weakness was to be always weak. It was necessary either to submit to a part utterly insignificant, giving supplies to the executive, and resting contented Avith the destruction of a few abuses, when the regeneration of the state itself was within grasp, or to take a strong position, and seize with violence upon a portion of legislative power. It was erations ; the inferior clergy idtiniately prevailed, and it was announced that the junction had boon carriod by a majority of 149 to 11.5. Those who had voted in the atfirmative were hailed with transports, the others were insulted and assailed by the people. This crisis was calculated to cement the reconcili- ation of the court and the aristocracy. The danger was equal for both. The last resolutions affected the king as much as the first orders themselves, with whom the connnons declared they could idtogether dispense. The Duke of Luxembourg, the Cardinal de Larochefoucauld, and the Archbishop of Paris, threw themselves at the feet of the king, and entreated him to ciu-b the audacity of the third-estate, and to support their threatened rights. The parliament offered to render the states unnecessary, by undertak- ing to sanction all the taxes. The king was surrounded by the princes and the queen ; the emergency was too great for his weakness, and he was idtimately drawn to Marly, in order that a vigorous measure might be wrung from him. The minister Xecker, attached to the popular cause, made some representations, which tlie king thought just enough when his judgment was unlettered; but their effect was soon extirpated by tlie arts of the court. "When Necker saw that the intervention of the royal authority was necessary', he conceived a project which seemed of marvellous boldness to his order of courage : he proposed that the monarch should hold a royal sitting, and ordain the junction of the orders, but only for measures of general interest ; that he shoidd assume to himself the sanction of all the resolutions passed by the states-general ; that he should disallow beforehand every establishmont con- trary to a limited monarchy, such as that of a single assein'bly ; and that he should promise the abolition of privileges, the equal admission of all Frenchmen to civil and military offices, &c. Necker, who had not had influence sufficient to precipitate tlie period for such a plan, had equally little now to enforce its exe- cution. The council had followed the king to Marly. There tlie plan of Necker, at first approved of, was again brouglit under discussion : whilst it was pending, a letter was suddenly handed to the king ; the comicil was suspended, resumed, and adjourned until the morrow, notwithstanding the urgent necessity for dispatch. The next day, new members were added to the council, amongst whom were the king's brothers. Tlie project of Necker was modified. The minister resisted ; consented to certain concessions, but seeing himself outnumbered, he returned to Versailles. Tlirice a royal page brought him letters announcing fresh modifications ; his plan was completely altered, and the royal sitting was fixed for the 22d Juno. It was only the 20th of the month, and the hall of the states was already closed, under the pretence of preparations being in progress for the presence of the king. These preparations might have been easily made in half a day ; liut the clergy had resolved the dav before to join the commons, and it was determined to prevent the junction. An order of the king ac- cordingly suspended the sittings until the 22d. Bailly, deeming himself obliged to obey the assembly, which on Friday the 19th had adjourned to Satui-day the 20th, proceeded to the door of the hall. Some of the French gauirds were gathered around it, with orders not to admit any entrance. The officer on duty received Bailly with respect, and permitted him to advance into a com-t to record a protestation. Some young and ardent deputies attempted to force the guard; Bailly ran to the spot, appeased their fiery spirit, and led tliein away with him, in order that they might not compromise the generous oflicer who executed his orders Mith so much moderation. The members rushed tumidtuously together, and persisted in holding a meeting. Some spoke of assembling imder the very windows of the king ; others proposed the hall of the tennis-court. They innnediately proceeded thither, and the proprietor joyfully granted the use of it. This hall was spacious, but its walls were dark and bare, and there were no seats. A chair was offered to the president, who refused it, preferring to remain on his legs Avitli the general body. A bench served as a desk ; two deputies were placed at the door as a guard, but were soon relieved b}' the attendants of the place, who came to offer their services. The people flocked in crowds, and the debates commenced. Ex- clamations arose from all sides against the suspension of the sittings, and various means were proposed for preventing it in future. The excitement increased, and extreme measures began to suggest themselves to the heated imaginations. It was proposed to proceed to Paris ; this opinion, hailed with warmth, was eagerly discussed, and a motion was even made to march there in a body, and on foot. BaiUy was fearful of the outrages that the assemlily might experience on the road, and apprehensive likewise of originating a schism; therefore he opposed the project. There- upon Mounier moved that the deputies bind them- selves by oath not to separate before the establishment of a constitution. This motion was received with enthusiasm, and the form of the oath was instantly drawn up. Bailly sohcitcd the honour of swearing first, and read the formula, thus couched — " You take a solemn oath never to separate, to assemble wherever circumstances may require, mitil the constitution of the kingdom siiuU be established and confirmed upon solid foundations." This formula, pronounced in a loud and distinct tone, was heard beyond the walls of the building. Immediately all mouths uttered the oath, all arms were stretched towards Bailly, who, erect and stern, received this solemn engagement to secure b^- laws the exercise of national rights. The whole body afterwards raised cries of " Long live the assembly! Long live the king!" as if to prove that it claimed the recover}^ of what was due to the nation, without anger or hatred, but from a sense of duty. The deputies subsequently proceeded to sign the de- claration which they had just made by Avord of mouth. One alone, IMartin d'Aucli, added to his name the title of " opposer." Considerable tumult ensued around him. Bailly, in order to be heard, momited on a table, addressed the deputy in a tone of moderation, and re- presented to him that he had an undoubted right to refuse his signatm'e, but none to record his o]iposition. The deputy was obstinate, and tlie assembly, from respect for freedom of opinion, allowed the phrase, and let it remain on the minutes. This new act of energy struck terror into the nobles, who the next day carried their son-ows to the foot of the throne, expressed their contrition in some degree for the restrictions wherewith they had sliackled the royid plan of conciliation, and craved the king's assist- ance. The minority of the nobility protested against this step, alleging most reasonably that it was the height of folly to ask the roy;d intervention after having so indiscreetly spurned it. This minority, too little attended to by its colleagues, was composed of HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. •69 forty-seven members, amongst whom were some mili- tary men and enlightened magistrates. It mmibered the Duke de Liancourt, the faithfid friend of his king and of liberty ; the Duke de Larochefoucaidd, distin- guished for unshaken virtue and an acconiplislicd mind ; Lally-Tolendal, akeady celebrated from the misfortunes of his father, and his eloquent protesta- tions ; Clermont-Tonnerre, remarkable for his orato- rical talent ; the brothers Lameth, young colonels, known for their spirit and valom- ; Duport, already mentioned for his comprehensive intellect and the firmness of his character; and lastly, the Marquis de Lafayette, the defender of American liberty, who united to French vivacity the resolution and simx^li- city of Washington. Intrigue paral.vsed all the energies of the court. The sitting, fixed originally for Monday the 22d, was postponed tiU the 2.3d. A note, written at a late hour to Bailly, and after the separation of the privy-council, informed him of this adjournment, and gave sufficient token of the agitation that prevailed. Nccker had re- solved not to attend the sitting, in order that he might not sanction by his presence projects he disapproved. Petty expedients, the ordinary resource of weak authority, were resorted to for the purpose of prevent- ing the assembly meeting on the 22d. The princes caused the tennis-court to be retained, in order to play on that morning. The assendjly proceeded to the church of Saint Louis, where it received the ma- jority of the clergy, at whose head appeared the Archbishop of Vienne. This junction, effected with inii)osing dignity, excited the liveliest emotions of joy. Tlie clergy announced that they came there to submit to the common verification. Tlie next day, the 23d, was fixed for the royal sitting. The deputies of the commons were appointed to enter the hall by a side door, apart from the en- trance reserved for the nobility and clergy. With the exception of violence, every species of indigiiity was heaped upon them. Exposed to a heavy fall of rain, they waited patiently for a long time ; the president, compelled to knock at this door, which was kept closed, had to repeat his knocks several times, and the only reply he obtained was, that the time had not arrived for opening it. The deputies were about to retire in disgust, when Bailly gave another summons : at length the door was opened, the deputies entered and found the two orders in possession of their seats, whicli they had secured by the precaution of fore- stalling them. The sitting was not like that of the .Oth May, at once majestic and afiecting by a certain effusion of feelings and hopes. A numerous guard and a mournful stillness distinguished it from tluit first solemnity. Tiic deputies of the commons had resolved to ol)serve a profoimd silence. The king pronounced a harangue, and betrayed the influence that had worked upon him, by using expressions much too energetic for his character. He was made to deal out reprt)aclies and impose injunctions. Hecommanded the separation into orders, annulled the previous reso- lutions of the tliird-estate, but promised to sanction the abolition of pecuniary privileges, when tlicir pos- sessors had declared it. He retained all the feudal rights, both practical and honorary, as inviolal>le jios- scssions ; and he ordained not the jimction njjon matters of general interest, although he licld ont liopijs of its ])robability from tlie moderation of the higher orders. Thus lie enforced the obedience of the commons, whilst he contented himself witli taking that of the aristo- cracy for granted. He left the nobility and clergy sole judges of what concerned them peculiarly, and con- cluded hy saying, that if he encountered fresli olistacles, he would take tlio welfare of the peojile into his own hands, and consider himself as their only represc-n- tative. This tone and language exasperated all minds, not against the king, wlio had feebly vented passions not his own, but against the aristocracy, whose instru- ment he had consented to become. The instant his discourse was finished, he ordered the assem])ly forthwith to separate. The nobility followed him, with a part of the clergy. The greater nmnber of the ecclesiastical deputies remained, and the commons :dso continued stationary, still observing a profomid silence. Mir;ibeau, who was always the fu-st to take the lead, arose. " Gentlemen," said he, " I confess that what you have just heard might be for the safety of the country, if the gifts of despotism were not always susjjicious. A parade of arms, a viola- tion of the national temple, to coiuraand you to be happy! 'N^Hiere are the enemies of the nation? Is Catiline at our gates ? I call upon 3'ou, b}- the inves- titure of your dignity and of your legislative fmictions, to respect the sacred obligation of your oath ; recollect it does not permit j'-ou to separate until the constitu- tion is established." The Marquis de Brcze, grand-master of the cere- monies, entered at this moment, and adtkessed himseli to Bailly. " Have you heard," he asked, " the orders of the king ?" and Bailly answered : " I am about to take those of the assembly." Mirabeau advanced. " Yes, sir," he exclaimed, " we have heard the views wherewith the king has been prompted ; but you have here no voice, or place, or riglit to speak. However, to avoid delay, go to your master, and tell him that we are here by the power of the people, and that we will not be driven forth but by the power of bayonets." M. de Breze withdrew. Sieyes then uttered these words : " We are to-day what we M-ere yesterday : let us deliberate." The assembly disposed itself to debate upon the maintenance of its previous resolutions, " The first of these resolutions," said Barnave, " de- clares what you are ; tlie second refers to the taxes, which you alone have the right to sanction ; the third is the oath to do yom- duty. None of these mea- sures needs the royal assent. The kmg cannot abro- gate what his consent would not fortify." At this instant, workmen came to remove tlie benches, armed soldiers traversed the hall, others encompassed it outside, and the body-guards advanced even to the door. The assembly, without concerning itself with the interruption, remained upon the seats and collected the votes ; there was no dissentient voice against adhering to aU the previous resolutions. Nor was this all. In the he;a-t of a royal city, in the midst of court retainers, and deprived of the aid of that people afterwards so formidable, the assembly wiis exposed to intimidation. Mirabeau repaired to the tribune, and proposed to decree the inviolability of each deputj'. The assembly, merely able to oppose a majestic ex- pression to brute f()rce, instantly ilcclared each of its members inviolable, and all who should do injmy to their persons, traitors, infamous, and guilty of a ca pital crime. In the mean time, the nobility, who believed the state saved by this lied of justice, offered their con- gratidations to the prince who had suggested it, and carried them from the ]irince to the queen. The queen, holding her son in lier arms, and sliov.ing liim to these enraptured servants, received their homage, and gave way to a blind and fatal confidence. At tliat very instant shouts were heard ; all hastened towards the noise, and the intelligence was soon s])read that the peo])le, gathered into a ci'owd, were applauding Nccker for not ai>pcaring at the royal sit- Hug. Alarm immediately succeeded to joy. The king and queen caused Nccker to be calledj and those august personages were compelled to entreat him to retain liis portfolio. The minister consented, and re- stored to the court some portion of the popidarity he had preserved by absenting himself from that disas- trous sitting. Thus was the first revolution brought about. Tlie third-estate h:ul obtained the legislative iio>ver, and its adversaries had lost it by too great eagcrnoss to grasj) it aU. In a few days this legislative revolution was consummateiL Certain petty annoyances were 40 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. again resorted to, sucli as impeding the internal com- munications in the lialls of the states ; but tliey were too contemptible to have any etfect. On the 24th, the majority of the clergy repaired to the assembly, and demanded the verification in common, with the view of afterwards deliberating upon the propositions advanced by the king in the sitting of the 23d June. The minority of the clergy continued to occupy their peculiar chamber. The Archbishop of Paris, Juigne, a virtuous prelate, and charitaiile to the people, but obstinate in the cause of privileges, was attacked, and constrained to promise his junction. He proceeded in fact to the national assembly, accompanied by the Archbishop of Bordeaux, a prelate of popular ten- dencies, who afterwards became minister. The greatest confusion prevailed in the ranks of the nobility. Its ordinary agitators inflamed its pas- sions ; D'Espremenil proposed to impeach the third- estate, and to order its prosecution by the attornc}'- peneral. and the minority, on the contrary, proposed the junctioii. This latter motion was rejected amidst deplorable tumidt. The Duke of Orleans supported the motion, after having the day before promised the Polignacs to oppose it.* Forty-seven members, hav- ing resolved to join the national assembly in spite of this decision, repaired thither in a body, and were greeted with lively marks of public satisfaction. However, their countenances bore an expression of sadness even amidst the joy caused by their presence. "We yield to our sense of right," said Clermont- Tonnerrc, " but we separate from our colleagues with grief. We come to take part in the public regenera- tion ; each of us will make known to you the extent to which his mandate will pennit him to go." Every day brought with it fresh junctions, and the assembly saw the number of its members perjietually on the increase. Addresses poured in from aU quar- ters, conveying the s^mipathy and approbation of the towns and provinces. Mounier stinndated those from Daupliiny ; Paris originated its own ; and even the Palais-Roj'al sent a deputation, which the assembly, still enveloped by dangers, received, in order not to alienate the populace. It did not then foresee its future excesses ; it had need, on the contrary', to pre- sume its energy and to hope for its support ; many of the deputies were doubtful of both,' for the resolution of the people was as yet but a pleasing anticipation. Thus the plaudits of the galleries, though often annoy- ing to the assembly, had nevertheless served to ani- mate it in its course, and it ventured not to forbid them. Bailly ^rishcd to pass a vote of censure, but his voice and motion were stifled amidst shouts of applause. The majority of the nobility continued its sittings amid tumult and the most violent exasperation. Ap- prehensions spread amongst those who rided that order, and the motion for a junction came from those very members who had formerl}^ induced its resistance. But its passions, already too excited, were not easily controlled The king was obliged to write a letter, the com-t and its higli functionaries were reduced to entreat. " The junction will be but transitory," said they to the most stubborn ; " troops are approaching : yield to save the king." .\cquiescence was wrimg from them in the midst of disorder, and the majority of the nobles, accompanied by the minority of the clergy, repaired, on the 27th June, to the general assembly. The Duke of LiLxembourg, speaking in tiie name of all, said that they came to give the king a proof of respect, and to the nation an evidence of patriotism. "Tlie family is now complete," answered Bailly. As- suming that the union was consmnmated, and that tlie question as to verification was disjwsed of, and that it remained for them only to deliberate in com- mon, he added, " We shall now be al)le to proceed, without intermission and without distraction, with * Sec Fcrritres. the regeneration of the kingdom and the public wel- fare." More than one silly expedient was employed to support an appearance of not having done what ne- cessity had superinduced. Tlie new comers alwa3-s entered after the opening of tlie sittings, all in a body, and so as to uphold their character as an order. They aftected to remain standing liehind the presi- dent, and in a maimer to avoid the appearance of sitting. Bailly, with infinite address and firmness, succeeded in subduing their repugnance, and induciim them to take their seats. Tiiey wished likewise to dispute his riglit to the presidency, not by an open demonstration, lint by secret intrigiie, or by despi- caljle tricker}'. Bailly was resolute in his retention, not from ambition, but from duty ; and men beheld a simple citizen, known for no quahfications more im- posmg than virtue and talent, presitling over all the magnates of the kingdom and the church. It ought to have been palpable to all imderstand- ings, that the legislative revolution was achieved. Al- though the preliminary dispute arose merely on the mode of verification and not on that of voting, although some had declared they joined only for the common verification, and others in obedience to the royal wishes as expressed on the 23d June— 'it was clear that the vote by voice was an inevitable implication, and that all opposition was consequenth' useless and impolitic. And yet the Cardinal de Larochefoucanld protested in the name of the clerical minority, and asserted that it had eflected the junction simply to deliberate upon general questions, with a reservation of its right to form an order. The Archbishop of Yienne repUed with vivacitj', that the minority had no power to decide any thing in the absence of the majority, and could have no right to speak in the name of the entire order. Mirabeau expatiated with his usual vigour upon the absurdity of this pretension, saying it was strange that any should protest within the assembly against the assembly, and that it be- hoved all either to acknowledge its supremacy or to retire. The question as to imperative mandates was then started. The greater number of the instructions ex- pressed the views of the electors with regard to advis- alile reforms, and rendered those views obligatory on the deputies. Before acting, it was necessary to settle how tar they could go ; and this question, therefore, became the first. It was argued and re-argued several times. Some maintained that tlicy should go hack to their constituents, whilst others were of opinion that they coidd receive from their constituents the com- mission of voting for them only after the measures had been discussed and illustrated by the delegates of the whole nation, but that it was not competent for tliem to receive beforehand a prescribed judgment. If it were held, in fiict, that the law should be made only in a general council, either because more enlightened views prevailed in an elevated body, or because a cor- rect opinion could be formed only when all parts of the nation were mutually heard, it followed of couraa that the deputies ought to be unfettered, and Avithout obligatory mandates. Mirabeau, sharpening reason with irony, exclaimed that those who considered the mandates imperative were wTong to come there at all, but should content themselves with laying their in- structions on the benches, since those documents might sit as well as themselves. Sieyes, with his accustomed sagacity, foreseeing that, notwithstanding the most rationid decision of the assembly, a gi-eat number of members would cling to their oaths, and that by intrenching themselves beMnd their consciences they MH)uld become invidnerable, moved the order of the day, on the ground that each was the judge of the force of tlie oath he had taken. " Those who feel tiiemselves shackled by their instructions," said he, " can be regarded as absent, precisely as those who refused to have their powers verified in common HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 41 assembly." If the assembly had constrained the malecontents, it would have furnished pretexts for facticn, whilst, by leaving them at hberty, it was sm-e to induce their adhesion, for its victory was no longer dubious. The object of the new convocation was the reform of the state, that is to say, the establishment of a con- stitution, of which France was utterly devoid, in spite of all that may be said to the contrary. If tliat name be applied to every species of relation between the governed and the governors, France unquestionably possessed a constitution ; it had a king who com- manded, and subjects who obeyed; ministers who im- prisoned at pleasure ; farmers of the revenue who wrung the last farthing from the people ; and parlia- ments which condemned mifortunates to the wheel. The most barbarous nations have such orders of con- stitutions. There was in France an institution called States-General, but without precise functions, without fixed periods for assembling, and when convoked, in- variably without result. There was a royal autho- rity which had been alternately powerless and abso- lute. There were tribunals or supreme courts, which had often joined legislative to judicial })ower; but there was no law which secured the responsibility of the agents of power, the liberty of the press, the freedom of person, or any of those guarantees, in fine, which, in the social state, make amends for the fiction of natural liberty.* * I siirport by quotations and notes only what is susceptible of contradiction. This question, as to wlietlier France had a con- stitution, seems to nie one of the most important in the revolu- tion, for it is the absence of a fund.imental law that justifies the nation for desiring to obtain one. I imagine that it would be scarcely possible to cite an authority more respectable and less oi)en to suspicion than the testimony of M. Lally-Tolendal. That excellent citizen delivered a sjieech on the 15th June 1789, in the chamber of nobles, of which the following is the greater por- tion : — " Many reproaches, gentlemen, mingled with some bitterness, have been directed against those members of this assembly, who, with equal pain and reserve, have evinced certain doubts upon what is called our constitution. This subject had not perhaps a very direct connexion with that which is before us ; but since it has been the ground of an accusation, it has become lilcewise one of defence, and I am justified in addressing a few words to the autliors of those reproaches. You have certainly no law which establishes the states-general as an intcgi-al portion of the sovereignty, for you are noVv demand- ing one ; and hitherto, sometimes the decree of tlie council pro- hibited them from deliberating, and sometimes the decree of a parliament annulled their resolutions. You have no Ixiw which compels the periodical convocation of your states-general, for you demand one ; and 175 years have elapsed since they were assembled. You have no law which places your individual safety and liberty imder shelter from arbitrary attacks, for you demand one ; and under the reign of a king whose justice is known to all Europe, and whose pi'obity is universally reverenced, ministers have caused your magistrates to be driven from the sanctuary of the laws by armed myrmidons. Under the preceding reign, all the magistrates of the kingdom were also torn from their seats and their hearths, and dispersed in exile, some to the peaks of mountains, others to the mire of niarslicA, all into places more frightful than the most horrible of prisons. By ascending liighcr, you will discover Irtlrcs dc aichrt by the thousands, on account of wretched theological quarrels. By goijig still farther back, you perceive sanguinary connnissions and aibitrary imprisonments in equal profusion, and you tind no specie for repose but in the reign of your good Henry. You have no law which estauiishes the liberty of the press, for you demand one ; and hitherto your thoughts-, have been enslaved, your ideas chained, and the ciy of your hearts in oppression has been stifled, now by the despotism of individuals, anon by the more tcn-ible despotism of public bodies. You have no law, or have none any longer, wliiili renders your consent necessary for taxation, for you demand one; iuul for two centuries you have been charged witli upwards of three or four hundred millions of taxes, without your having NUictioned a single unit. Vou have no law which imposes rcspi;niibility upon all the The necessity for a constitution was confessed and generally felt ; all the instructions had energetically asserted it, and had even formally laid down the fundamental principles upon which that constitution should be based. They had mianimously prescribed a monarchical government, hereditary descent from male to male, the exclusive attribution of executive power to the king, the responsibility of all his agents, the concurrence of the nation and the king in the enactment of laws, the voting of taxes, and individual liberty. But they were divided as to the creation of one or of two legislative chambers ; as to the duration, the prorogations, and the dissolution of the legislative body ; as to the political existence of the clergy and the parhaments ; and as to the extent of the liberty of the press. So many questions, either solved or started by the instructions, show sufficiently how the public mind was then awakened in all quarters of tlie kingdom, and how general and emphatic was the determination of France for liberty.* But to frame ministers of executive power, for you demand one ; and the ori- ginators of those sanguinary commissions, the issuers of those arbitrary orders of arrest, the spoilers of the public treasury, the violators of the s;mctuai'y of justice — those who have deceived the virtues of one king, those who flattered the passions of another, those who have caused the disasters of the nation, have rendered no account, have undergone no punishment. In fine, you have no general, positive, written law, at once a national and royal compact— no great charter, on which a fixed and invariable order may rest, in which each may learn what it behoves him to sacrifice of his liberty and his property to pre- serve the rest — which assures all rights, and defines aU powers. On the contrary, the system of your government has varied from reign to reign, often from ministry to ministry ; it has depended on the age and the character of a single mortal. During mino- rities, under a weak prince, the royal authoritj', which contri- butes to the happiness and dignity of the nation, has been indecently degraded, either by magnates, who with one hand shook the throne and with the other groimd the people to the dust, or by bodies which at one time attacked with temerity what at another they had defended with courage. Under haughty princes who were basely flattered, under virtuous princes who were misled, this same authority has been pushed beyond all bounds. Your secondary or intermediate powers, as you call them, have been neither better defined nor more fixed. At times the parliaments have maintained the principle that they could not interfere in affairs of state, at others they have alleged that their discussion belonged to them as representatives of the na- tion. On one liand we have seen proclamations announcing the pleasure of the king, on the other, decrees in w hich the ofliccrs of the king prohibited, in the name of the king, the execution of the orders of the king. The courts ha'.e not agreed better amongst themselves ; they have disputed each other's origin and functions, have mutually fulminated recriminatory decrees. I limit these details, which I might extend to infinity ; but if all these facts are certain— if you have none of those la«s which you demand, and which I have now mentioi ed— or if, having them (and I beg your attention to this) — or if, having them, you have not that which compels their execution, that which guaran- tees their observance, and whicli maintains their stability, pray define to us, then, what you imderstand by the word constitution, and allow at least that some indulgence is due to those wlio can- not refrain from entertaining certain doubts upon the existence of ours. We are perpetually told to rally round this constitution ; ah ! ratlier let us lose siglitof that pluuitom in order to substitute u reality. And as to tliat term of iniiofdiioiis, as to that epitliet of innocalors, with which we are unceasingly attacked, let us also grant that the first innovators ai-c in our instructions ; let us re- sjx'ct .and bless that fortunate innovation which essiys to put every thing in its place, to render all rights inviolable, all autho- rities beneficent, and all people liappy. It is for such a constitution, gentlemen, that I offer my prayers; it is such a constitution that is the object of all our mandates, and which y the Count de Ckrmont-Toniierre, in the sitliny of the ^Ih July \l&-i- " Gentlemen— You are called upon to regenerate the French empire ; you carry to that great work both your own wisdom and the wisdom of your constituents. We have tliouc;ht it our duty, in the first place, to coUect and present to you the opinions scattered in the ra;ijor part of your instructions; we will afterwards present to you both the parti- cular views of your committee, and those which it has been, or nay hereafter be, enabled to gather from the various plans and observations which have been, or may be, communicated or re- mitted by the members of this august assembly. It is the first portion of this task we are about to present to you. Our constituents, gentlemen, are all agreed upon one point ; they desire the regeneration of the state ; but some have under- stood it as a simple reform of abuses, and the re-establishment of a constitution existing for fourteen centiu-ies, which has seemed to them capable of revival, if the injuries are repaired which have been inflicted by time, and the numerous outrages of per- sonal interest upon tlie public interest. Others have considered tlie existing social sj'stem as so vicious, tliat they have demanded a new constitution ; and with the exception of monarchic;d government and forms, which are cherished and reverenced in the heart of every Frenchman, and which they have ordered you to maintain, they have given you all the powers necessary to frame a constitution, and settle the prosperity of the French empire upon ascertained principles, and upon the regular distinction and constitution of all the powers. These are of opinion that the first chapter of the constitution ought to contain the declaration of the rights of man, of tiiose imprescriptible rights, for the safeguard of which society was in- stituted. Tlie demand of this declaration of the rights of man, so inces- santly contemned, is substantially the only difference which e.\ists between the instructions which requiie a new constitu- tion and those which seek merely for the re-establishment of what they deem the existing constitution. Both have equally founded their idciis upon the principles of monarchical government, upon the stability of the power and upon the organisation of the legislative body, upon the necessity of the national consent to taxation, upon the organisation of the administrative bodies, and upon the rights of all citizens. We shall go over these different objects, and present to you upon each of them, as decisive, the results, when uniform, and, as questions, the different or contradictory results which those of your instructions, an epitome of which it has been possible for us to make or to procure, have brouglit before us. 1. The monarchical government, the inviolability of the sacred person of the king, and the hereditary transmission of the crtiwn from male to male, are eed with reluctance, and on the promise that the junction siiould be of short duration. The order still met every day, and entered into protests against the opera- tions of the national assembly : its numbers, however, progressively dwindled: on the 3d July it counted 138 members present, on the 10th oidy 93, and on the nth 80. Nevertheless, the most obstinate had persisted, and on the 11th had resolved on a protest, which ulterior events prevented them from drawing ujx The court, on its part, had not yielded without regret, nor witbout designs in view. Emerging from its consternation after the sitting of the i3d June, it liad urged the general junction with the idea of shack- ling the progrciss of the assembly by means of the iioltles, and with the liope of soon dissolving the union by main force. Necker hatl been retained merely to cover by his presence the secret plots that were hatch- ing. From a cert;un appearance of agitation, and from the reserve evinced towards him, he suspected some grand machination. The king himself was not informed of all tliat w;is projected; and it wa.s doubt- less intended to go farther than he was thought likely to sanction. Necker, who imagined that the entire action of a statesman should be limited to reasoning, and whose vigour was precisely of that order which expends itself in representations, proffered them to the smallest possible purpose. In conjunction with Mounier, Lally-Tolendal, and Clermont -Tonnerre, he meditated the establishment of the English constitu- tion. Meanwhile, the court pursued its secret pre- parations ; and the noble deputies having expressed a determination to withdraw, they were detained by cheering intimations of an approaching event. Troops were drawing near; the old Marshal de Broglie had been named to the command in chief, and the Baron de Besenval had received the particiUar command of those which surrounded Paris. Fifteen regiments, for the most part foreign, were in the vici- nity of the capital. The boasting of the courtiers revealed the danger, and those conspirators, somewhat too prompt in tlieir menaces, compromised their own schemes. The popular deputies, acquainted, not with all the details of a plan which v/as not yet fidly mi- masked, and which the king himself knew but par- tially, still with enough to excite apprehensions of intended violence, were higlily exasperated, and looked around for means of resistance. It is unknown, and will probably for ever remain unknown, what share secret arrangements had in the insurrection of the 14th July ; but the matter is of trifling moment. The aristocracy were plotting, and the popular party might very naturally plot also. The means employed being the same, the oidy question is as to the justice of the cause ; and justice was assuredly not with those who desired to subvert the union of the orders, to dissolve the national representation, and wreak vengeance on its most courageous deputies. Mirabeau conceived that the surest means of inti- midating the court was to compel it to a public dis- cussion of the measures which it was palpably pro- jecting. For this purpose it was necessary to make a public denunciation. If it hesitated to answer, if it evaded the subject, it was convicted, and the nation was apprised and roused. Mirabeau caused the labours upon the constitution to be suspended, and moved that the king be requested to witluh-aw the troops. lie mingled in his speech sentiments of respect for the monarch, with the most severe invectives against the government. He said that every day fresh troops were advancing; that all the conmmnicatioiis were intercepted, the bridges and walks changed into military posts ; that both noto- rious and secret facts, hurried orders and counter- orders, struck all eyes, and announced war. Adding bitter reproaches to these details, he exclaimed, " Tliey bring more soldiers to intimidate the nation than an enemy would probably encounter upon an invasion, and a thousand times more, at least, than they were able to collect in aid of friends, martyrs to tlieir fidelity, and especially to maintain that alliance with the Dutch, so valuable, so dearly acquired, and so shamefidly lost." His discourse was greeted with enthusiastic ap- plause, and the address he proposed instantly iidopted, modified only in one particular. When soliciting the removal of the troops, Mirabeau had ju-oposed that they should be replaced by burgher guards, which paragraph was struck out. The address was then voted, only four voices dissenting. In this still cele- brated document, which it is said he did not himself (■ompose, but had furnished all its ideas to one of his friends, Mirahejui predicted almast all that was about to luippeii ; the insurrection of the nudtitude, and the defection of the troops from their friendly intercourse with the citizens. As. bold as he was sagacious, he dared to assure the king that his promises shoidd not be vain. " You have called us," said he, "to regene- rate the kingdom ; your intentions sludl be fulfilled in spite of .snares, difiicidties, perils," &c. The address was presented by a deputation of HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 45 twenty-foiir members. The kinp, declining to explain himself, replied that this assembling of troops had no other olyect than the maintenance of public tranquil- lity, and the protection due to the assembly ; and that, moreover, if that body had still any apprehensions, he •would transfer it to Soissons or Noyon, and go himself to Compiegne. The assembly could scarcely feel satisfaction at such a reply, especially at the offer to remove it to a dis- tance from the capital, and plant it between two camps. The Count de CriUon argued that implicit faith shoidd be placed on the word of a king and an honest man. " The word of an honest king," retorted Mirabeau, " is but a sad guarantee for the conduct of his mini- stry' ; our blind confidence in our kings has been our ruin : we asked the retreat of the troops, and not our fliglit before them. We must still insist on that mea- sure without a moment's relaxation," This opinion was not supported. Mirabeau suffi- ciently urged open operations to induce his secret machinations to be pardoned, if it be true that any such were employed. Necker had repeatedly told the king that if his services were disagreeable to him, he would cheerfully resign. " I rely upon your word," the king had upon such occasions replied. On the afternoon of the 11th July, Necker received a note, in which the king called upon him to keep his word ; urged him to depart ; and added, that he had sufficient confidence in him to hope that he would conceal his departure from all the world. Necker, justifying the honourable confidence of the monarch, set off without saying a word to his friends, or even to his daughter, and in a few hours was several leagues from Versailles. The next day, 12th July, was a Sunday. A rumour was spread at Paris that Necker had been dismissed, as also Mont- morin, La Luzerne, Puysegur, and St Priest. As their successors, were announced De Breteuil, La Vauguyon, De Broghe, Foidon, and Damccort, almost all notorious for their opposition to the popular cause. Alarm became predominant in Paris. The Palais-Royal was thronged. A young man, afterwards known for his republican en- thusiasm, naturally of a tender but excitable tempera- ment, Camille-Desraoulins, sprang upon a table, drew forth pistols, with an exhortation to ann, tore a leaf from a tree, which he converted into a cockade, and induced every one to follow his example. The trees were instantaneously stripped, and the crowd repaired to a museum containing busts in wax. They seized upon those of Necker and the Duke of Orleans, who was said to be menaced with exile, and then spread them- selves over the quarters of Paris. This mob was pass- ing along the street St Honore, when it met near the sqiaare Vendonie a detachment of the royal German regiment, which fell upon it, wounded several i>ersons, and amongst otliers a soldier of the French giiards. The latter, already disposed in favour of the people and against the royal Germans, with which regiment they had had a contest some days before, were quartered near tlie square Louis XV., and now fired upon their opponents. The Prince de Lambesc^ who (•ommanded the royal German regiment, immediately moved back upon the garden of the Tuileries, charged tlio peaceable crov.d walking there, killed an old man in the tunuilt, and cleared the garden. In the mean time, the troops which surrounded Paris concentrated on the field of IMars and the square of Louis XV. The alarm then became unboiind(>d, and changed to fury. The people ruslied througli tlie town with cries of " To orvus!" Tlie town-hall was beset with applications for weajions. Tlic eJectors composing tlie gent'ral assembly were colitu'ted there. 1'hey yielded the arms they had no jiower to refns(>, and which M-ere already seized, indeed, wlien they de- cided upon delivering them. Th(!se electors formed at that moment the only constituted authority. De- prived of all active power, they assimied such func- tions as circumstances required, and now sunnnoned a convocation of the districts. All the citizens re- paired thither to delil)erate upon the means of jjre- serving themselves — on the one hand, from the fury of the multitude, and on the other, from the attack of the royal troops. During the night, the pojiulace, always attracted to what chiefly interests it, forced and burned the barriers,* put the keepers to flight, and threw all the avenues open and free. The shops of the gimsmiths were also broken into and rifled. Those brigands, already signalised by their activity at Reveillon's, and who were seen on all occasions starting forth as if from the bowels of the earth, now made their appearance, armed with pikes and clubs, and carried terror into all quarters. These events occurred in the course of Smiday the 12th July, and during the night following. On Monday morning, the electors, still sitting at the town-hall, deemed it expe- dient to give a more legal aspect to their authority, and consequently dispatched an invitation to the provost of the trades,f the ordinary administrator of the city. This functionary would not consent to join them, except upon a formal requisition. This was complied with, and a certain mmiber of electors was united with him, thus composing a municix^ality in- vested with all necessary powers. This municipality smnmoned the lieutenant of police before it, and in a few hours digested a plan of enrolment for a burgher militia. This militia was to be composed of 48,000 men, furnished by the districts. The distinguishing symlx)l selected was the Parisian cockade, red and blue, in- stead of the green one of DesmouUns. Every person found in arms and wearing this cockade, without having been enrolled by his district in the burgher guard, was ordered to be arrested, disanned, and puni.ihed. Such was the origin of the national guards. This plan was adopted by all the districts, and they hastened to put it in execution. In the course of the same morning, the popiilace had phmdered the con- vent of Saint Lazarus in search of corn, and luul like- wise broken into the garde-meubJe, or armoury, in pur- suit of arms, the antique and curious weapons with which it was stored being torn dovra and carried off. A motley crew, bearing helmets and pikes of by-gone times, issued forth and overspread the town. The populace showed itself upon this occasion o2')posed to robbery ; with its usual fickleness, it affected disin- terestedness, leaving money untouched, taking nothing but arms, and even assisting to ap^jrehend the brigands. The French guards and soldiers of the watch had offered their services, and they were accordingly en- rolled in the burgher guard. More arms were still demanded Avith loud shouts. The provost, Flesselles, who had at first refused to co-ox>erate with his fellow-citizens, now evinced great zed, and promised 12,000 muskets that very day, and an iulditional number for tlie succeeding days. He asserted that he had made a contract with an unnamed gun-manufacturer, 'i'lie thing ai)i)earetl iniiimbable, considering the shortness of the time that h;ul elapsed. However, towards evening, tlie chests of arms an- nounced by Flesselles were conveyed to the town-hall ; they were eagerly oj)ened, and found to be full of old linen. At this unexpected disappointment, the mul- titude growled indignantly at the provost, who stated, in exculpation, that he had been deceived. To appease * At those barriers duties were collected on ai'tieles entering I'iiri.s. t " The pn'rot.i i!cs marchniith, or provosts of the trades, wero ofiiecrs of the hi>;hist :iiiti(iuity. In l.Ti7, they pureliiiHcd, in eon- jiinetion with t\\v I'clieviitJi, or municipal magistrates, tlie house whore, in ancient times, the dauphins resided, called Maison de Urevc, which gave the name of Vliicc. ilc G/vir to the area on which it stood ; and on the site of that imd some others round it they afterwards built the liotd-di-vilk, or tt)wn-housc. Thi> provost was .appointed by tlie king, sometimes for two years, or renewed every year at his pleasure." — Ucrtn'nd rf< MokrilU't /tiinah 'els of powder destined for Versailles were descend- ing the Seine in boats ; these were seized, and an elector distributed the contents amidst the greatest danger. Horrible confusion prevailed at this same town-hall, the seat of the authorities, tlie head-quarters of tlie militia, and the centre of all operations. Simultaneous demands were made on aU in authority to provide for external security menaced liy the court, for internal security menaced by the brigands, for calmiug the suspicions of the people, who thought themselves every instant betrayed, and for saving from their fury those who were the objects of their distrust. Around the hall were accumulated arrested carriages, intercepted convoys of waggons, and travellers waiting for per- mission to resume their journey. During the night, it was again tln-eatened by the brigands ; an elector, the valorous ZMoreau de St 3Icry, intrusted with its defence, caused barrels of powder to be brouglit, and threatened to blow it up. The brigands were awed and withdrew. At the same time, the citizens, retired to their homes, held themselves in readiness for all attacks ; they had unpaved the streets, dug trenches, and taken aU possible measures for resisting a siege. During these troubles in the capital, the assembly was a prey to the most serious alarms. On the morn- ing of the 13th, the members repaired to the hall, full of apprehensions for impending events, and as yet ignorant of what had occurred at Paris. The deputy ^lomiier was the lirst to rise and exclaim against the dismissal of the ministers. Lally-Tolendal succeeded him in the tribune, pronounced a splendid eulogium upon Necker, and seconded Mounier's motion for an address in which the king should be soUcited to recaU the disgraced muiisters. A deputy of the nobility, M. de Virieu, proposed to confirm the resolutions of the 17th June by a fresh oatli. Clermont-Tonnerre opposed this j^roposition as unnecessary ; and, recapi- tulating the engagements already taken by tlie as- sembly, exclaimed : " The constitution shall be, or we shall be no more !" The discussion was proceecUng when infoi-mation was brought of the (Msturbances at Paris on the morning of the 13th, and the evUs with which the capital was threatened, between undisci- pHned Frenchmen, who, according to the expression of the Duke de Larochefoucauld, were in tlie hands of no one, and disciplined foreigners who were in the hands of despotism. It was instantly resolved to send a deputation to tlie king, for the purpose of laying before liim the desolation of his capital, and entreating him to order the withdi-awal of the troops and the enrolment of burgher guards. The king returned a cold and trantjuil answer, little in accordance with his real feelings, and repeated that it was not possible for Paris to guard itself. Thereupon the assembly, exalted by the noblest heroism, passed a memorable resolution, in which it insisted upon the removal of the troops and the establishment of burgher guards, declared the ministers and all the agents of power personally responsible, put upon the ccjmisellors of the king, of ichatevcr rank they ml(jht he, the responsibility of the misfortunes which imjjended ; consolidated the public debt, denounced the utterance of the execral)le word bankruptcy, re-asserted its preceding resolu- tions, and ordained the president to convey its regret to M. Necker, as also to tlie other ministers (hsplaced. After these measures, so indicative of prudence and energy, the assembly, in order to preserve its members from all personal violence, declared itself permanent, and named M. de Lafayette vice-president, for the purpose of reUeving the estimable Archbishop of Vienne, whom his age did not aUow to sit both day and night. The night between the 13th and 14th was thus passed amidst excitement and alarm. Every instant some dismal intelligence was announced and contra- dicted. Though all the projects of the court were not fathomed, it was nevertheless sufiiciently notorious that several deputies were threatened ; that violence was about to be employed against Paris and the most distinguished members of the assemblj'. Suspended for a fleeting interval, the sitting was resumed at five in the morning of the 14th. With an imposing and tridy dignified composure, the assembly returned to its labom's on the constitution, and discussed with infinite judgment the means of accelerating its exe- cution, and preparing for it with prudence. A com- mittee was named to frame the resolutions, composed of the Bishop of Autiin, the Archbishop of Bordeaux, Lallv, Clermont-Tonnerre, iMoimier, Sieyes.CliapeUer, and Bergasse. The morning thus elapsed. Rumours more and more sinister were brought to the assembly; the king, it was said, would leave that niglit, and the assembly remain at the mercy of foreign regiments. The queen, the princes, and tlie Duchess of Polignac, had just been seen walking in the Orangery, cajoling the officers and soldiers, and ordering them refresh- ments. It appears that a gi-and scheme was prepared for the night of the 14th and IStli ; tliat Paris was to be attacked at seven points, the Palais-Royal sur- rounded, the assembly dissolved, and the declaration of the 23d June carried to the parliament The exigencies of the treasury were to be sm-moimted by bankruptcy and state-notes. It is certain that the commanders of the troops had received orders to advance on the 14tli ; that the state-notes had been fabricated ; that the barracks of the Swiss were fiUed with munitions of war ; and that the governor of the Bastille had removed a variety of articles, leaving in the place only some indispensable pieces of furniture. In the afternoon the terrors of tlie assembly were re- doubled ; the Prince de Lambesc had been seen pass- ing at full gallop ; the distant noise of a cannonade was heard, and the members laid their ears to the ground to catch the faintest soimds. Mirabeau moved that all further debate be suspended, and a second deputation be sent to the king. The deputation immediately set out to make fresh representations. At this moment, two members of the assembly, just arrived in all haste from Paris, brought intelligence that slaughter was at work in that city ; one of them asseverated that lie had seen a corpse with its head off, and wrapped in black. The night was beginning to fall, when the arrival of two electors was announced. The deepest stillness reigned in the hall ; the noise of their steps was heard amid the darkness ; and from their mouths was learnt that the Bastille had been attacked, cannon fired, and blood shed, and that the most frightful calamities threatened to ensue. A new deputation was immediately named before the preceding one had returned. Whilst preparing to depart, the first an-ived and brought back an answer from the king. He had ordered, he said, the removal of tlie troops encamped in the field of Mars to a greater distance, and having been infonned of the formation of burgher guards, he had nominated officers to command them. L'pon the ai-rival of the second deputation, the king, in great agitation, had addressed it in these words : " Gentlemen, you tear my heart more and more by the account you give me of the calamities of Paris. It is not possible that the orders given to the troops can liave caused them." Onl\- the removal of the army to a greater distance had been as yet ob- * tained. It was two hours after midnight. The answer given to the citj' of Paris imported " that two dcjjutations had been sent, and that the remonstrances would be renewed the next day until they met with that success which was to be justly anticipated from HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 47 the heart of the king, when its impulses should be no longer controlled by fatal counsels." The sitting Avas suspended for a short period, and in the interim the events of the 14th July were made fully known. The people, so early as the night of the 13th, had congregated about the Bastille ; some shots had been fired, and it seems that instigators had repeatedly shouted out, " To the Bastille ! " But the ■\sash for its destruction was expressed in several of the deputies' instructions, so that the pubhc mind had evidently taken that direction at first, without any prompting. There was still a continual demand for arms. A report was spread that the Hotel des Invalides con- tained a considerable depot. The people immediately flocked to that building. The governor, M. de Som- breuil, defended its entrance, saying that he must send for orders to Versailles. The crowd would listen to no such proposition, but at once rushed pell-mell into the hospital, and bore away the cannons and a great nmnber of muskets. A considerable concourse was already in array against the BastiUe. The in- surgents alleged that the gims of the castle were pointed upon the town, and that they must be pre- vented from firing upon it. The deputy of a dis- trict stepped forward, and asked permission to inspect the fortress, which the commandant accorded. When admitted inside, he found thirty -two Swiss and eighty- two invalids, and took the word of the garrison not to fire unless attacked. Durmg this parley, the people began to be uneasy and vociferous at not seeing their deputy return, and he was obliged to show himself from the ramparts to appease theiu. About eleven in the morning he withdrew. Half an hour had scarceh^ elapsed before a fresh crowd arrived in arms, rending the air with shouts of '• We'll have the BastiUe ! " The garrison summoned the assailants to retire, but they paid no heed to the warning. Two men mounted with great intrexiidity to the roof of the guard-house, and severed with their axes the chains of the draw- bridge, which accordingly fell. The crowd rushed precipitately along it, and onwards to a second bridge. At this moment a discharge of musketry arrested their com-se ; in a few seconds they recoiled, but re- tiu-ning the fire. The contest was thus maintained for a short interval. Tlie electors, sitting at the town- hall, were greatly alarmed when they heard the rei)ort of the musketry, and sent forth two deputa- tions, one after the other, to induce the governor to allow a detachment of the Parisian militia to be in- troduced into the fortress, on the ground that all the military force in Paris should be mider the control of the city. These two deputations successively made their appearance on the scene of action. But it was extremely difficidt to obtain a hearing amidst a siege conducted by popular undisciphned bands. The beat- ing of a drum and the hoisting of a flag succeeded in suspending the fire for a time. The deputies advanced ; the garrison listened to them ; but it was impossible to make mutual explanations amidst the din. Shots were fired, from what quarter is unknown. The people, convinced that treachery was intended, ran forward to set the castle on fire : the garrison thereupon fired with grai)e-shot. The French guards came up with cannon, and commenced an attack in form. Whilst these events were passing, a letter addressed by the Baron de Bcsenval to Delaunay, the governor of the Bastille, was intercepted and read at the town- hall. In this epistle Bescnval urged Delaunay to hold out, assuring him that succours would be s])ee(li]y sent to him. It was on the evening of that day, in i'act, that the plans of the court were appointed for execution. In tJie mean time, Delaunay, perceiving no prospect of assistance, and oljserving the reckless daring of the people, seized a lighted matcli, with the intonticm of blowmg up the forti'ess. The garrison opposed the desperate resolution, and compelled him to surrender. The signals were given, and a bridge U)wered. The besiegers approached, promising to commit no mischief; but the crowd rushed tumul- tuously forward, and filled the courts. The Swiss succeeded in saving themselves. The invalids were assailed, and only wrested from the fury of the mob by the exertions of the French guards. At this moment a yomig and beautifid girl, trembling Avith terror, presented herself; she was imagined to be the daughter of Delamiay ; the ruffians seized upon her, and she Avas about to be burnt, when a heroic soldier precipitated himself amongst the crew of wTctches, tore her from their grasp, bore her to a place of safety, and then returned to the scene of commotion. It Avas now half-past five. The electors Avere in a state of distressing anxiety, when they heard a didl and prolonged murmur. An excited multitude ap- proached Avith cries of A'ictory. The hall in Avhich they Avere sitting Avas speedily thronged, and a French guardsman, covered Avith Avoimds and croAvned Avith laurel, Avas carried in triumph on the shoulders of the croAvd. The ndes and ke^'s of the BastOle were borne on the point of a bayonet ; a bloody hand raised above the heads of the popidace exhibited to a^cav the tail of a peruke ; it Avas that of Delamiay's, whose head had been just struck off. Tavo of the guards, Elie and Hullin, had defended him to the last extremity. Other victims had fallen, tliough heroically protected against the ferocity of the populace. A sort of maddened fury began to explode agamst FlesseUes, the provost of the trades, who was accused of treachery. It was alleged that he had deceived the people, by re- peatedly promising them arms, Avhich he nevertheless withheld. The hall was full of men exasperated with a long contest, and pressed by thousands of ethers who, clustered around the building, stroA'e to enter in their tiirn. The electors made an efibrt to justify FlesseUes in the eyes of the multitude. He began to lose his presence of nnnd, and, his countenance pale with terror, exclaimed, " Since I am suspected, I Avill withdraAv." " No," Avas shouted in reply ; " come to the Palais-Royal to be tried." He then descended to repair thither. The croAvd gave way, surromided and closed upon him. When he had reached the Pelletier quay, an unknoAvn hand laid him prostrate Avith a pistol-bullet. It Avas asserted that a letter had been fomid on Delaimay, in Avhich FlesseUes wrote to him, " Hold out, AvhUst I amuse the Parisians with cockades." Such were the dismal occurrences of that day. An emotion of terror soon succeeded the intoxication of success. The conquerors of the Bastille, petrified at their OAvn avidacit}', and anticipating the speedy ven- geance of outraged authority, Avere afraid to confess their participation in the exploit. Every instant rimiom-s were rife that troops Avere advancing to sack Paris. Moreau de St Merj-, the same Avho the day be- fore had threatened the brigands to blow up the toAvn- haU, remained unshaken amidst the panic, and issued upAvards of three thousand orders in a fcAv hours. As soon as the conquest of the Bastille was knoAvn at the toum-haU, the electors had sent to inform the assembly of the fact, and the intelligence reached Versailles in the middle of the night. The assembly Avas not sitting at the moment, but the ncAvs Avas quickly spread abroad. Hitlierto the court, disbclicA'ing in the energy of the ]ieoi)le, and contemning the efforts of an igno- rant nndtitude directed against a fortress A'ainly be- sieged by tlie great Conde in former times, had sat perfectly tranquil, indulging in lightsome raillery. The king, however, bad begun to feel some uneasiness; his last answers had rcA'caled his anguish. He had retired to bed when the final catastroi)he was pro- claimed in Versailles. The Duke de I-iancourt, so (listinguislied for his noble sentiments, Avas the inti- mate iriend of Louis XVI., and from his office of gr:md-master of the wardrolie, had always access to his person. Wiien apprised of tlie events at Paris, he repaired in all haste to the monarch, awakened him in spite of his ministers, and informed hmi ol 4o HISTORY OF THE FRE>X'n REVOLUTION. what had passed. " Wliat, a revolt ! " exclaimed the kmg. " Sire," replied the Duke de Liancourt, " rather say, revolution." The king, moved hy his represen- tations, consented to go in the morning to the assem- bly. The court ;dso surrendered ; and this act of confidence was resolved upon. In the interval, the assembly had resumed its sitting. The new disposi- tions wherewith the king had been inspired were un- known, and it was determined to send a last deputation to him, with the view of a]>peahng to his feelings, and obtaining from him iill that still remained to be granted. This was the fifth deputation smce the commencement of these disastrous events. It was comijosed of twenty-four members, and was abt)ut to leave the hall, when Mirabeau, rising with greater vehemence than ever, stojjped it. " Tell the king," he exclaimed, " tell him without quailing, that tlie foreigTi liordes with which we are encompassed were yesterday visited by the prmces and the princesses, and their parasites of both sexes, who lavished upon them caresses, exhortations, and bribes. Tell him, furthermore, that all night these foreign myrmidons, gorged with gold and wine, have foretold in tlieir im- pious carols the subjection of France, and that tlicir brutal prayers were raised for the destruction of the national assembly. And tell him that in his own piilace his courtiers danced to the sounds of that fero- cious music, and that sucli was the prelude to the St Bartholomew ! Tell hira, in fine, that the Henry whose memory the universe reveres, he of all liis forefathers whose model he Avould take, allt)wed provisions to pass into Paris in rebellion, when besieged by himself; and that his ferocious comisellors drive back the sup- jilies that commerce bears to Paris when faithful and famislied." The deputation was then proceeding to the palace, when intelligence arrived that the king was on the way, of his own will, without guards and without escort. Shouts of applause rang through the ludl. " Walt," resumed Mirabeau, with gravity, " until the king has communicated to us his gracious intentions. Let solemn reverence be tlie only welcome accorded to the monarch in this moment of affliction. The silence of nations is awful to kings." Louis XVI. then i)resented himself, accompanied by his two brothers. His benignant and aflecting discourse roused the greatest enthusiasm. He calmed tlie ajiprehensions of the assembly, which he called for the first time the national assembly, and complained witli mildness of the suspicions that had been enter- tained. " You have been alarmed," he said ; " and now it is I who put my trust in you." These words were received with the most animated plaudits. The depu- ties immediately arose, surromided the monarch, and re-conducted him on foot to the ]ialace. The crowd pressed around him, tears stood in all eyes, and he could scarcely thread his way through his numerous escort. The queen, seated on a balcony with the court, contemplated at achstance this touching scene. ller son was in her arms, and her daughter, standing at her side, was carelessly playing with the locks of her brother. Tlie queen, greatly luoved, beheld with visible complacency these proofs of Frenchmen's affec- tion. Alas! how often a reciprocal emotion reconciled hearts during those frightful discords ! For an instant aU seemed forgotten ; but on the morrow, on that very day, the court was restored to its pride, tlie people to their distrust, and implacable hatred resumed its sway. Peace was thus concluded with the assembly, but it remained to be niiide with Paris. Tlie asseml)ly forthwith sent a deputation to the town-hall, to bear the news of the happy reconciliation eflectcd with the king. Bailly, Lafayette, and Lally-Tolcudal, were in the number of the envoys. Their presence caused the liveliest demonstrations of joy. The speech of Lally-Tolendal aroused transports so ardent, that he was carried in triumj)h to a window of tlie town-hall to be shown tii the people. A garland of How crs was placed upon his head, and he received this homage in front of the very square in which Ids father had died with a gag upon his lips. The death of the \mfortu- nate Flesselles, head of the municipality, and the refusal of the Duke d'Aumont to accept the command of the burgher militia, left a provost and a commander- in-chief for nomination. Bailly was proposed, and, amidst the loudest and heartiest acclamations, was named successor of Flesselles, under the title of " Mayor of Paris." The garland which had been on the head of Lally was placed on that of the new mayor ; he attempted to remove it, but the Archbishop of Paris kept it on in spite of him. The eyes of the virtuous old man filled with tears, and he resigned liim- self to his novel functions. The dignified representa- tive of a great assembly, in presence of all the majesty of the throne, he was less capable of ruling amid the storms of a large city, where the multitude was in- cessantly rising with timiultuary violence against the magistrates. Setting aside, however, all personai thoughts, he proceeded to devote himself to the diffi- cult Libours of providing food, and subsisting a people destined to repay him with so much ingratitude. A commander of the militia remained to be named. In the hall stood a bust which had been presented by emancipated America to the city of Paris. Moreau de Saint Mery stretched out his arm towards it, and all eyes followed in the direction : it was the bust of the Marquis de Lafayette. An universal shout pro- claimed him commander. A Te Ueum was imme- diately voted ; and all passed in a crowd from the toAvn-hall to the cathedral of Notre-Dame. The new magistrates, the Archbishop of Paris, the electors, mingled with tlie French guafds and the soldiers of the militia, marching arm in ann, proceeded to the venerable edifice in a sort of intoxicated rapture. On the road, some foundling children fell at the feet of Bailly, wlio had signalised himself by exertions for the hospitals ; tlie,y saluted him as their father, and Bailly ]iressed them in his arms, calling them his chil- dren. They reached the church ; the ceremony was celebrated, and the congregation afterwards overspread the city, in which a delirium of gladness had succeeded the gloomy terrors of the eve. At that moment, the people went to visit the cavern, so feared for ages, the entrance to which was now thrown open. The Bastille was traversed with eager curiosity and a feeling of awe. Instruments of torture and deep dungeons were gazed upon with shudders. The chief object of attrac- tion was an enormous stone placed in the middle of a dark and swampy cell, to the centre of which was fixed a jionderous chain. The court, as blind in its fears as it had been in its presumption, Avas so dreadfully alarmed at tlie idea of the people, that it imagined every moment a Parisian army was marching on VersaiUes. The Count d'Artois and the family of Polignac, so dear to the queen, now quitted France, and were the first emigrants. Bail>y waited on the king, to re-animate liis drooping courage, and prevail on him to visit Paris, which joiu-ney was resolved on in spite of the opposition of the queen and the court. The king prepared to depart. Two hundred deputies were nominated to accompany him. The queen bade him farewell in a strain of profound affliction. The body-guards escorted him as far as Sevres, where they awaited his return. Bailly, at the head of the muni- cipality, receiv(>d him at the gates of Paris, and pre- sented' to him the keys formerly brought to Henry IV. " That good king," said Bailly to Louis XVI., " had gained his people; to-day it is the people who have regained their king." The nation, simply legis- lative at \'ersailles, was armed at Paris. Upon his entrance, Louis saw himself encompassed by a multi- tude, preserving a solemn silence, and drawn up in regimental order. He reached the town-hall, passing under an archway of swords crossed above his head, as a mark of honour. The speech he delivered was i . A ftillarton 8; d Lanioa fc Kdmbni^i HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 49 simple and affecting. The people, unable longer to restrain themselves, broke out at last, and lavished upon tlie king their usual acclamations. These in some degree relieved the prince's anxiety, though he could not conceal an emotion of joy when he again beheld the body-guards stationed on the heights of Sevres. On his return to Versailles, the queen, throw- ing herself into his arms, embraced him as if she had feared she should never see him more. In order fully to satisfy the ])ul)lic wish, the king ordered the recall of Necker, and the dismissal of the new ministers. M. de Liancourt, the king's friend arid trusty counsellor, was elected president of the assembly. The noble deputies, M-ho, although appear- ing at the debates, had hitherto refused to take part in them, gave Avay at this juncture, and commenced voting. Thus was the fusion of the orders accom- plished. From that moment the revolution might be considered as achieved. The nation, master of the legislative power through the assembly, of the public force through itself, was thenceforth able to realise aU that was l^eneficial to its interests. The refusal to render taxation equal had made the states-general necessary ; tlie refusal to yield an equitalJe partition of authority in these states had annihilated courtly and aristocratic influence ; and finally, the attempt to restore that influence had convulsed Paris, and pro- voked the whole nation to seize upon the public force. CHAPTER III. TROUBLES IN PARIS LAFAYETTE MIRABEAU PRO- CEEDINGS OF THE ASSEMBLY IN FRAMING THE CON- STITUTION. All things were in commotion in the heart of the capital, where a new order of authority had so lately been established. The same spirit that had impelled the electors into action was equally urgent with all classes of men. The assembly had been followed by the town-hall, the town-hall by the districts, and the districts by all the incorporations ; tailors, shoemakers, bakers, servants, assembling togetlier at the Louvre, at the place Louis XV., or the Chami)s Elysees, pursued their deliberations in form, in spite of the repeated prohibitions of the municipality. Amid these contrary movements, the to'wm-hall, opposed by the districts, pestered by the Palais-Royal, was beset with obstacles, and could witli difficiilty meet the labours of its multitudinous functions. It joined within itself alone the civil, judicial, and military adminis- tration. The head-quarters of the militia were there fixed. The judges, uncertain amidst the general con- fusion as to their jurisdiction, handed over the accused to it. It possessed even the legislative power, for it was intrusted with the framing of its own constitution. Railly had summoned two commissioners from each district to effect that object, who, under the title of representatives of the commune (or conmion-couucil), might regulate the institution. To fulfil so many duties, the electors had divided themselves into seve- ral committees ; one, called the committee of inquiry, took the department of the police; another, called the committee of subsistence, took that of provisioning Paris— a task the most diflicult and dangerous of all. Bailly was oliliged to devote both day and night to this latter subject. It was necessary to cffc>ct con- tinual purchases of wheat; to have it ground, and then to transport it to Paris througli the famished rural districts. The convoys were freafayette almost alone persisted in the opinions he had always professed, called for the states-general, powerfully contributed to the junction of the orders, and was nominated, as a recompense, to the command in chief of the national guard. La- fayette had neither the passions nor tlie genius which frequently lead to tlie abuse of power; witli an even temper, a winning address, and unswerving disinte- restedness, he was especially suited for the part which circumstances assigned him, namely, that of ensuring the exeeution of tlie laws. Adored by his troops without having cajitivated tliem by victories, calm and full of resources amid tlie rngings of tiie multi- tude, he maintained order with indefatigable vigilance. Tlie parties which had fbuiid him incorruptible, as- sailed his talents, since his character was beyond attack. And yet his foresight was accurate with re- gard both to events and to nieu ; he ai)])reciated, at their just value, the court and tlie ]>arty-leaders ; pro- tected them, at the peril of liis life, without esteeming them ; and often struggled against factions almost without hojie, but with the constancy of a man deter- mined never to abandon the cominonwealtli, even when he has lost all hoj)e for it. * lie li.ad been iiumeil to tliis post on tlie l.^tli July, at tlu- town-huU. 50 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. Ju spite of all his vis^ilance, Lafayette was not always successful in allaying popular storms. For however active force may be, it eannot be every where at once against a people every where in insurrection, who look upon every man in authority as an enemy. Tlie most a])surd reports were spread and believed each passing moment. Now it was alleged that the soldiers of the French guards had been poisoned ; anon, that the flour had been designedly damaged, or inter- cepted on the road ; and the persons who gave them- selves the greatest trouble to bring supplies to the capitid were obliged to appear before an insensate mob, which overwhelmed tliem with execrations or applauses, according to tlie caprice of the moment. At the same time, there is no doubt that the fury of the popuhtce, who, generally speaking, are luiable, for any length of time, to select and pursue victims, often seemed directed either by wretches paid, as was said, to render the troubles more serious by imbruing them with blood, or simply by men of deep remorseless midignity. Foulon and Berthier were pursued and arrested far from Paris, under cu'cumstances which left no doubt as to the intention with which they were seized. There was nothing spontaneous in the proceedings against tliem ; the rage of the multitude which killed them alone possessed that character. Foulon, a retired intendant, and a stern, avaricious man, had been guilty of horrible exactions, and was also one of the ministers appointed to succeed Necker and his colleagues. He was taken at Viry, though he had spread a report of his death. His captors conducted him to Paris, reproaching him with liaving said that the people ought to be made to eat hay. A wisji of nettles was twisted round his neck, a bunch of thistles put in his hand, and a truss of hay strapped to his back, in which state he was convej'ed to the to^vn- haU. At the same instant, his son-in-law, Berthier de Sauvigny, was arrested at Oompiegne, upon pre- tended orders from the commune (common-council) of Paris, which had never Ijeen issued. The commune immediately wrote, commanding his release, which injunction was disregarded. He M'as dragged towards Paris at the time Foidon was at the town-hall, ex- posed to all the fury of the frenzied mob. They called loudly for his death ; the representations of Lafayette calmed them a Uttle, and they consented that Foidon should be tried, but demanded that the trial shoidd take place that very instant, in order to enjoy the spec- tacle of an immediate execution. Some electors had been named to serve as judges, but, under various pretexts, had declined the terrible otBce. At length BaiUy and Lafayette were designated, wJio foimd themselves reduced to the distressing alternative either of losing tlieir own lives from the rage of the popidace, or of sacrificing a victim to appease it. However, Lafayette still endeavoured, with infinite address and courage, to temporise, and spoke to tlie multitude several times with great effect. The wretched Foulon, placed on a seat by his side, had the imprudence to applaud his ccmcluding words, whereupon a bystander exclaimed, " Look there, they understand each other!" At this phrase tlie crowd was exasperated, and rushed upon Foulon. Lafayette made heroic exertions to rescue him fi-om the assassins, but he was finally torn from his protec- tion, and hanged to a lamp-post. His head was cut off, stuck on the end of a pilce, and paraded througli the streets of Paris. At this moment Berthier arrived, under the conduct of guards, and surrounded by an enraged multitude. He was shown tlie bleeding liead, which he could not doubt was that of his father-in-law. He was conducted to the town-hall, where he pro- nounced a few words expressive of courage and indig- nation. Seized again by the crowd, he escaped for a moment from their grasp, got possession of a weapon, defended himself witli desjjeration, but soon fell Uke *]ie unfortunate Foulon. These murders, which were perpetrated on the 22d July, were instigated by the enemies of Foulon, or of the public welfare ; for if the fury of the people were spontaneously aroused at their appearance, like most of their movements, their arrest had been the result of design. Lafayette, fiUed with grief and indignation, resolved to give in his resigna- tion. Bailly and the municipality, alarmed at this design, hastened to dissuade him from its execution. It was arranged that he should tender his rcsignatioa as a proof of his discontent with the people, but that he should allow himself to be overcome by the en- treaties they would not fail to make him. In fact, tlie people and the militia gathered around him, and pro- mised him implicit obedience for tlie futm-e. He resumed the command on those conditions ; and, thenceforth, he had the satisfaction of preventing numerous disorders, by means of his own energy and the devoted zeal of his soldiers. During these occurrences, Necker had received at Basle the orders of the king and the assurances of the assembly. The Polignacs, whom he had left trium- phant at Versailles, and met as fugitives at Basle, were the first froiii whom he learnt the disasters of the throne, and the speedy return of faA'^our which awaited him. He departed and traversed France, drawn in triumph by the people, to whom he recom- mended peace and good order, as was usual with him. The king received him with embarrassment, the as- sembly with enthusiasm ; and he detennined to proceed to Paris, in order that he might there also have his day of triumph. Necker was inflamed with a desire to gain from the electors the jiardon and freedom of the Baron de Besenval, although his enemy. It was in vain that Bailly, to whom measures of severity were not less abhorrent than to himself, but who formed a more just appreciation of circumstances, represented to him the danger of the project, and assured him that such a favour, procured in a moment of delirium, woidd be annulled the following day as illegal, because an administrative body could neither condemn nor pardon ; Neckerwasobstinatelj'lientupon making a trial of his influence over the capital. He repaired to the toMni-hall on the 30th July. His hopes were more than accomplished, and he had some reason to believe himself all-powerful, when beholding the transports of the people. In great emotion, his ej'es fiUed with tears, he asked for a genend amnesty, which was instantlj' granted by acclamation. The two assem- blies of electors and representatives exhibited equal zeal ; the electors decreed the general amnesty, the representatives of the commune ordered the liberation of Besenval. Necker retired intoxicated with deliglit, assuming to himself an enthusiasm which was simply owing to his disgrace by the court. But from this day forth the pleasing ckeam graduallj- vanished; Mirabean was preparing to awaken him with a cruel shake. In the assembly and in the districts, the cry was general against the sensibility of the minister, excusable, it was allowed, but sadly misplaced. The district of L'Oratoire, instigated, as is confidently asserted, by Mirabean, was the first to raise its voice. It was maintained on all sides, tliat an administrative body coidd neither condemn nor absolve. The illegal measure of the town-hall was revoked, and the deten- tion of the Baron de Besenval sustained. Thus the prudent foresight of Bailly was proved, which Necker liad to arm the provinces in opposition to the capital. How- ever the case might be, the fact itself conduced to the advantage of the nation, which it roused to arms, and to a state of watchfulness over its safety and rights. The inhabitants of tl)e towns had shaken off their fetters, and tlie rural population were likewise eager to be rid of theirs. Tlicy refused to pay tlie feudal dues, attacked those lords who had been guilty of oppression, set fire to their mansions, burned their title-deeds, and in some districts committed atro- cious acts of vengeance. A melancholy accident had mainly contributed to incite this general exasperatioiu A certain Sieur de Mosmay, Lord of Quince}', gave an entertainment at his seat. All the people of the burrounding country had assembled, and were in the full enjoyment of careless gaiety, when a barrel of gunpowder, suddenly igniting, exploded with mur- derous consequences. This accident, afterwards as- certained to have been the consequence of imprudence, and not of treacherous design, was then charged upon the Sieur de Mesmaj" as a heinous crime. The rumour was soon spread abroad, and provoked peasants to the commission of cruelties, who were already hardened by a wretched existence, and rendered ferocious by long-continued sufferings. The ministers proceeded in a body to lay before the assembly a picture of the deplorable state of France, and to ask from it powers for re-establishing order. Ever since the 14th July, these disorders had manifested themselves in every shape. The month of August was now commencing, and it became indispensable to restore action to the government and the laws. But to attempt this task with any chance of success, it was necessary to begin the regeneration of the state by the reform of such institutions as were more particularly abhorrent to the people, and chiefly impeUed them to disturbances. One part of the nation, in subjection to another part, was oppressed by a multitude of rights called feudal. Some of these, characterised as productive, imposed upon the peasants ruinous dues, AvhUst others, quaUfied as honorary, compelled them to humiliating obeisances and services towards their lords. They were the rem- nants of the feudal barbarism, the abolition whereof was due to liumanity. These privileges, considered in the light of property, and indeed so styled by the king m his declaration of the 23d June, would perhaps never have been abolished by a regular discussion. It was necessary to excite their possessors, by a sud- den and spontaneous movement, to propose their own despoilment. The assembly was at the moment discussing the celebrated declaration of the rights of man. It had been originally debated whether any should be made, and it was not till the morning of the 4th August that it had been finally decided such a declaration should be framed and placed at the head of tlie constitution. In the evening sitting of the same day, the committee upon disturbances and the means of suppressing them, presented its report. The Viscomit de NoaiUes and the Duke d'Aiguillon, both members of the nobi- lity, immediately mounted the tribune, and represented that it was needless to employ force to bring the people back to order ; that the causes of their misery should be removed, and tlien the agitation residtmg there- from would forthwith subside. Proceeding to fiu^her and more explicit explanations, they proposed to abo- lish all the vexatious rights, which, under the title of feudal rights, crushed the agriculturists. M. Leguen de Kerengal, a proprietor from Brittany, appeared in the tribune, habited in the garb of a farmer, and pre- sented a frightful picture of the feud;d system. Where- upon, generosity being stimulated in some, pride piqued in others, a certain paroxysm of disinterested- • ness was suddenly provoked ; every one rushed to the tribmie in order to lay down his privileges. The no- bility gave the first example ; and the clergy, not less fervid, hastened to follow it. A species of intoxica- tion seized upon the assembly ; dispensing with a superfluous discussion (which, indeed, under any cir- cumstances, had been unnecessary to demonstrate the propriety of such sacrifices), all the orders, all tlie classes, all the possessors of any peculiar rights, flew to pronounce their respective renunciations. After the deputies of tlie first orders, tliose of tlie commons went in their turn to present their oblations. Having no personal privileges to sacrifice, they offered up those of provinces and towns. Equality of rights, in- stitutetl as respected individuals, was likewise esta- blished over all the districts of the country. Some members surrendered their pensions, and one, who was a member of the parliament, having nothing to give, proffered his devotion to the pubUc welfare. The steps of the desk were thronged with deputies press- HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 53 iug to deposit their renunciations ; all that could be done at the moment was to enumerate the various «acrifices, and the framing of the articles was adjom-ned to the following day. The fervour was general ; but in the midst of this enthusiasm it was easy to observe that certain of the privileged classes were far from sincere, and were bent on pushing matters to an un- reasonable extremity. Serious apprehensions might be justly entertained from the lateness of the hour, and the delirium pervading the assembly ; and Lally- Tolendal, perceiving the danger, handed a note to the president, containing the words, " Every thing may be feared from the rapture of the assembly; break up the sitting." At the same instant a deputy rushed up to him, and pressing his hand with emotion, said, " Grant us the royal sanction, and we are friends." Lally-Tolendal, aware of the vast importance of link- ing the revolution to the king, moved that he shovdd be proclaimed Restorer of French liberty. The pro- position was hailed with rapture ; a Te Deum was then decreed, and the members finally separated at an early hour in the morning. During this memorable night there had been de- creed — The abolition of the title of serf; The power of redeeming seignorial rights ; The abolition of seignorial jurisdictions ; The suppression of exclusive rights of chase, war- ren, dovecots, &c. ; The commutation of tithes ; The equality of taxation ; The admission of all citizens to civil and military employments ; The abolition of the sale of offices ; The destruction of all the privileges of towns and provinces ; The remodelling of guilds ; And the suppression of pensions granted without services. These resolutions had been passed in a general form, but it remained to reduce them into decrees ; and it was then that, the first ardour of generous im- pulse having subsided and each resmned his previous prepossessions, some strove to extend, others to re- strict, the concessions pronoimced. Stormy debates ensued, and a studied, ill-advised resistance chased away every sentiment of gratitude.* * " I was not present at this sitting, but one of my friends who Bttended, related tome the next morning what had passed. As he spoke in a tone too serious for me to suppose lie was in jest, I began to think he had lost his senses ; but I soon found in the public papers a confirmation of the particulars he had mentioned. I could not help thinking I was reading an account of one of those frolics sometimes entered into by wild young fellows, who, after pushing the bottle freely, begin to break their glasses, decanters, and plates, then to contend who shall throw the most valuable fm-niturc out of the window, and, before they have done, leave the room empty ; but who next day, at sight of their bill, deplore their folly wliilc they pay for the things destroyed. Unfortunately, the patriotic frolic of the 4th August did not end so ; it ruined multitudes of individuals who had no share in it, and enriched nobody. The reducing all the articles then decreed, gave room for long debates in the following sittings. Our sobered legislators thought tliey had only dreamt what they had too surely decreed, and several of them laboured to interpret and give a turn to tlio decrees, so as to reduce the effect of tliom considerably ; but the tenns of them were too positive to be open to any restriction which the people would admit. The only article they found it possible to modify was that which condemned tlie pigeons to death or emigration. It was insisted the next day by the mem- bers of the right side, and particularly by U'lOspremenil, tliat all the decrees had bi-en j)reviou»ly drawn up, and the sitting pur- posely opened so late to convert it into a nocturnal and scandalous huddle, the more easily to alter the proceedings in accordance with tlio plan of the authors of the mancruvre, as amidst tlie tumult that prevailed it was enually impossible for the assembly to have passed as the secrctai'ies to have written them. IJut tlio president (Chapelier) and the secretaries boldly asserted that all those decrees had been passed ; and the majority of the assembly. The abolition of feudal rights had been agreed upon, but the mode still remained a question — whether by immediate suppression or redemption ; and important distinctions were necessary to be drawn among the rights themselves. On first overrunning the coimtry, the conquerors, progenitors of the nobility, had imposed services upon men and tributes upon lands. They had themselves occupied certain portions of the soil, which they had only restored by d^egrees to the cul- tivators, under covenants of perpetual rents. A length- ened holding, accompanied by nimierous transmissions, constituting the essentials of property, all the burdens imposed on both men and lands had acquired that character. The Constituent Assembly was therefore in the predicament of being compelled to make an attack on subjects of property. In this position, it had to weigh their validity, not on the groimd of their just or unjust acquisition, but as they were more or less onerous to society. It abolished personal services accordingly, and since many of those services had been commuted into acquittances, it aboUshed the acquit- tances. Amongst the pajonents charged upon the land, it suppressed those which were palpable reUcs of servitude, as the fine imposed on transmissions ; and it declared all those perpetual rents redeemable, which had been the consideration on which the nobles had formerly granted to the cultivators portions of the soil. It was thus absiu-d to accuse the Constituent Assembly of having violated the rights of property, when every imaginable matter had been rendered so ; but it was assiu-edly strange that the nobles, long inured to such violations, both by exacting tributes and refusing to pay taxes, should exhibit so sudden and rigorous a respect for principles, when their own prerogatives were the points at issue. The seignorial jurisdictions were likewise styled " property," since for many ages they had been handed dov/n as inhe- ritances ; but the assembly was not weak enough to be awed by the phrase, and decreed their abolition, providing, nevertheless, that they should be retained until proper substitutions were found. The exclusive right of chase was also a subject of warm disputes. Disregarding the idle objection that the whole popvdation would be instantly in arms if the license to kill game were extended, the right was con- ferred on every cultivator within the limits of his own estate. A struggle was likewise made in behalf of the privileged dovecots. The assembly declared that any person might maintain them, but that at harvest- time the pigeons might be kih'ed like ordinary game upon the lands they should scour. All the ranger- ships were abolished, under the condition, neverthe- less, that the personal pleasures of the monarch should be secm-ed by means compatible with liberty and pro- perty. One article, above all, occasioned violent discussions, on accomit of the yet more important questions of which it was the prelude, and of the powerful inte- rests it attacked^it was that referring to tithes. On the night of the 4th August, the assembly had pro- claimed tithes redeemable. AVhen tlie decree was about to be drawn uj), it desired to abolish them with- out consideration, subjoining a stipulation that the support of the clergy should be adequately provided i'ov hy the state. Such a course was unquestionably contrary to form, because it was altering a resolution already passed. But Carat replied to this objection, that the modification was, in truth, an actual jiur- chase. since it was the state instead of the individual payer who redeemed the tithe, by taking upon itself the burden of sustaining the clergy. The Abbe Sieves, who astonished tlie comumnity by a])pearing as an advocate of tithes, and was generally considered by no means a disinterested defender of such an impost, granted in reply that the state actually and truly thinking themselves bound by their .attestation, confirmed tliis work of darkness and delirium." — Bertrand's Menwirs, vol. i. pp. :m, 4(10, 4')!. „ 54 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. redeemed the tithe, but perpetrated a robbery on the mass of the nation, by bm-dening it with a debt which ought to weigh only upon the landed proprietors. This objection, presented in striking colours, was illustrated by that severe and oft-repeated phrase : " You desire to be free, and knov,' not how to be just !" Altl/ough Sieyes imagined that it was not possible to repel his objection, nothing was more easy. The expense of pubUc worship is chargeable upon all ; whether it was expedient to make the landed pro- prietors alone, rather than the universal body of con- tributors, bear the cluu-ge, was purely a question for the state to determine. It robbed no person by making such a distribution of tlie impost as it judged proper. Tithes, by impoverishing the small proprietors, de- stroyed agriculture ; the state was therefore bound to remove the biu-den, which position IMirabeau demon- strated by conclusive analogy. The clergy, who had a decided preference for tithes, because they had a clear presentiment that the stipends allowed by the state would l)e proportioned to their legitimate occa- sions, claimed to be proprietors of the tithes, by im- memorial grants, and reproduced that stale argument of long possession, which proves nothing ; for were it valid, every al)oniination, despotism itself, would be rendered legitimate by possession. They were an- swered, that titlics were but an usufruct, which was not transferable, and possessed none of the main features of property ; that they evidently constituted an impost established in their favom-, which impost the state now took upon itself to convert into another. The pride of the clergy took alarm at the idea of re- ceiving salaries, and loud and vehement were their complaints at the indignity. Mirabeau, who was pre- eminent in hm-Ung barbed shafts of reason and sar- casm, replied to the lamenters that he was acquainted with but three modes of deriving existence in a state of society, to wit — robbing, begging, or possessing a salary. The clergy were convinced that it behoved them to abandon with a good grace what it was im- possible for them to defend. The parish priests espe- cially, aware that they had every thing to gain from the equitable spirit that actuated the assembly, and that it was the overgrown wealth of the prelates against which the attacks were really levelled, were the tirst to recede from the conflict. The complete abolition of tithes was thereupon decreed, under con- dition that the state shoidd impose upon itself the expenses of public worship, and that in the mean time the tithes should continue to be gathered. This last clause, which bespoke the considerate spirit of the assembly, became however of no avail. The people would pay no longer, but before the decree the same determination had been doggedly evinced ; and when the assembly abolished the feudal system, it was al- ready overturned in fact. On the 13th August, all the articles were presented to the king, who accepted the title of Restorer of French liberty, and gave his pre- sence at the solemnization of the Te Deum, having the president on his right hand and all the deputies in liis train. Thus tlie most important rofonn during the revo- lution was consummatcLL The assembly had evinced equal resolution and prudence. Unfortunately, a people can never resume with moderation the exercise of its rights. Deplorable outrages were committed through- out the wh.ole kingdom. The country-seats continued to be burnt, and the fields were inundated witli sports- men, eager to put in force tlieir newly-acquired rights. Thoy spread themselves over the lands hitherto exclu- sively reserved for the enjoyment of their oppressors, and connnittod frightful clcvastations. Every usurpa- tion meets with a severe return, and he who exercises it would do well to reflect on the truth, if not for himself at least for his children, who almost always endure the punishment due to him. Numerous accidents occm-red, as might be anticipated. On the 7th August, the ministers had again appeared before the assembly, to present a report upon the state of the country. The keeper of the seals had exposed the alarming disorders which had broken out, and Necker had displayed the wretched state of the finances. The assembly heard this double communication with sadness, but without discouragement. On the 10th, it passed a decree touching public tranquillity, in which the municipa- lities were enjoined to ensure the maintenance of order by dispersing all seditious assemblies. They were instructed to deliver simple rioters to the ordinary tribunals, but to imprison those who had disseminated alarming reports, produced forged orders, or e.xcited disturbances, and to send the examinations to the National Assembly, to enable it to trace the troubles to their origin. The national guards and the regidar troops were placed at the disposal ot the municipalities, and they were ordered to take an oath of fidelity to the nation, the king, and the law. This Avas the oath which was afterwards called the civic oath. Necker's report upon the finances was alarming to the last degree. The want of subsidies was the cir- cumstance which had caused an appeal to a national assembly, which assembly, from its first meeting, had entered into a contest with power, and, providing merely for the pressmg necessity of establishing guarantees and reviving confidence, it had neglected that of placing the revenues of the state upon a sure basis. Necker alone had all the disquietudes attend- ing the financial department. Whilst Bailly, labour- ing to draw provisions to the capital, was a prey to the bitterest anxieties, Necker, harassed by wants less urgent indeed, but far more extended, immersed in most painful calcidations, and devoured by a thousand agonies, attempted to find palliatives for the national distress ; and whilst his mind was solely occupied with fiscal questions, he was incapable of reflecting that the assembly was solely engaged with political questions. Necker and the assembly, each preoccupied by a peculiar object, had optics for none besides. However, if the alarms of Necker were justified by the actual distress, the confidence of the assembly was equally so by the elevation to which its views soared. That assembly, holding France and its destiny in embrace, refused to believe that so fair a realm, although in- debted for the uistant, could be for ever paralysed with indigence. Necker, on assuming the ministry in August 1788, fomid only 400,000 francs (£16,700) in the treasury. By great exertions, he had provided for the most pressing calls, but since that tune, circumstances had augmented the demands and diminished the resources. It had been found necessary to pm'chase corn, to re-sell it below the ciu'rent value, to distribute considerable sums in charity, and to jjrosecute public works as ^ means of giving employment to operatives. For this last object alone 12,000 francs (£500) had been drawn from the exchequer daily. At the same time that the expenses M-ere thus increased, the receipts fell off. The reduction in the price of salt, the delay in pay- ments, and often the positive refusal to discharge the taxes, smuggling by armed bands, the demolition of the barriers, the destruction of the registers and the assassination of the clerks, had annihilated a portion of the revenue. In consequence, Necker demanded a loan of 30,000,000 (£1,2.50,000). The first impulse was so favourable, that a cry arose to vote tlie loan by acclamation, but this warmth of feeling quickly sub- sided. The members testified a repugnance for fresh loans, and fell into some degree of inconsistency by appealing to the instructions they had already dis- carded, but Avhich i)rohibited them from sanctioning taxation previous to the completion of the constitu- tion ; they even proceeded to calculate the sums re- ceived since the preceding j'car, as if they doubted tlie hon(\'^ty of the minister. However, tlio necessity of i)roviding for the exigencies of the state ensured the adoption of the loan ; but the plan of tlie minister was altered, and the interest reduced to 4^ per cert.. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. bb in groundless reliance upon a patriotism Avhicli cer- tainly pervaded the nation, but was not to be expected amongst money-lenders by profession, the only per- sons who in ordinary cases embark in that description of financial speculations. This preliminary error Avas one of those which assemblies generally commit, when they substitute for the precise views of the jjractical minister the vague ideas of twelve hmidred specidative minds. At the same time, it was easy to discern that public opinion ah-eadj' began to grow discontented with the timidity of the minister. After these indispensable attentions bestowed on the public tranquilhty and the finances, the asseml)ly entered upon the declaration of rights. The first idea thereof had been suggested by Lafayette, who had himself borrowed it from the Americans. The discussion upon that subject, Avhich had Ijeen inter- rupted by the revolution of the 14th July, resumed on the 1st August, again interrupted by the abolition of the feudal system, was once more taken up and defi- nitively closed on the 12th August. The idea of such a declaration had something imposing in it, which enraptm-ed the assembly. The prevailing bias of the era led men to embrace everj' thing that savom^ed of grandeur; this entliusiastic spirit drew forth their sincerity, tlu'ir courage, their virtuous and their evil tendencies. They seized, therefore, upon this idea, and resolved to carry it into inmiediate execution. If the task had been simjdy to promulgate certain principles held in especial abhorrence by the power whose yoke luid been so recently shaken oif, such as the voting of taxes, religious freedom, the liberty of the press, or niinisteriai responsibility, nothing had been more easy. America and England had already performed it. France might have couched in certain clear and positive axioms the ncAv principles which she imposed u])on her government ; but France, break- ing with all the past, and reverting to the state of nature, nmst necx'ssaril}- asi)ire to frame a complete declaKation of all the rights of man and the citizen. Much was said in the first debates upon the necessity and the danger of such a declaration. Loug and use- less discussions ensued upon these points ; useless, because there was neitlier advantage nor hazard ia publishing a declaration composed of propositions far above the comprehension of the bulk of the people ; a thing fitted only for a certain nnnd^er of philosophic minds, about the last to take an important share in popular seditions. It was at length decided, however, that it should be framed, and jilaced at tlie head of the constitutional act. But it was still to draw up, and therein lay tlie great difficulty. What was a right? — that which was due to mankind. Now, all the good that could be done to men was due to tiiem ; therefore, that every measure of government should be wise was a right. Thus all the propounded forms contained a definition of the laM% the mode in which it ought to be declared, the principle of sove- reignty, &c. It was objected, that these were not rights but general maxims. Still it was essential to embody these maxims. Mirabeau, losing all patience, at last cried out, " Dispense with the Avord right, and say, ' In the interest of all it has been declared' ." Nevertheless, the more imposing title of a declaration of rights was preferred, and thereunder were con- founded maxims, j)rinciples, and definitions. Out of the whole was composed the celebrated declaration standing at the head of the constitution of 1791. In truth, there was but one misfortune attending it, to Avit, the loss of several sittings for a philosophical commonplace. But who may tliroAv obloquy on those minds for too nmch fervour on a faA'ourite ol)ject? Who lias a right to despise a prepossession whicli was inevitable during the first moments of excitement ? It Avas felt that the labours of the constitution could be no longer postponed. The tediousness of the pre- liminary discussions caused a general sentiment of fiitiguc, and Avithout tlie walls of the assembly tlie fiin(!amental questions Avere first agitated. The Eng- lish constitution was the model Avhich naturally pre- sented itself to numerous minds, since it was an arrangement concluded between the king, the aristo- cracy, and the people, at the close of a struggle simi- lar in its characteristics. The essential featm-es of that constitution consisted in the establishment of tAvo legislative chambers, and the royal prerogative of assent. Tlie minds of men, in their fii-st impulse, cling to the most simple theories; a nation pronounc- ing its Avill and a king executing it, appeared to them the only legitimate form of government. Con- ferring on the aristocracy a power equal to that of the Avhole nation, by means of an upper chamber, and investing the king with the right to annul the national determination, by means of a royal assent, seemed to them the height of absurdity. " The nation wills, the king executes:" men refused to leave these simple elements, and they firmly believed they Avould have a monarchy, Avlien they left a king as executor of the national resolves. A real monarchy, such as exists even in states accounted free, consists in the dominion of a single individual, on which curbs are laid by means of the national participation. The Avill of the prince, in such cases, really efiects almost every thing, and that of the nation is limited to prevent evil, either by refusing taxes, or by its concurrent legislative functions as a third body. But so soon as the nation can ordam all it chooses, Avithout the king being able to interpose a veto, the monarch dAvincUes into a mere magistrate. Such a form of goA'ernment is a republic, with a single consul instead of several. The govern- ment of Poland, although it boasted a kmg, was never called a monarchy, but a republic ; and there were kings likewise at Sparta. A weU-established monarchy, therefore, requires great concessions on the part of individuals. But it is not after a long political annihilation, and dmiug their first enthusiasm, that they are disposed to make them. Consequently, a republic lurked in the opinions of most men without being pronounced, and they Avere republicans Avithcut behig aAvare of the fact. In debate the speakers did not explain themselves with distinctness ; therefore, in spite of the genius and learning redolent iu the assembly, the question was lamely discussed, and greatly misapprehended. The partisans of the English constitution, Necker, Mounier, Lally, could not perceive iu Avhat a monarchy must necessarily consist ; and even had they had a distinct perception of it, they would not have ventured to state explicitly to the assembly, that the national Avill ought not to be all-pOAverful, and that it ought to be restrictive rather than active. Their arguments exhausted themselves in the summaiy, that it Avas necessary the king should have the power to chock the usurpations of one assembly ; that in order to assure his proper and cheerful execution of the law, he must concur in it ; and that relations must of neces- sity exist bctAveeii the executive and legislative poAvers. These reasons were illogical, or at all events Aveak. It was ridiculous, iu fact, when recognising the national sovereignty, to desire to coutrui it by the sole avuI of a king.* * In the seventh chapter of tliiswork, and at the openinffof tliu iiistoryof tho Legislative A^senilily, the reailer will liiul an oi)iniou upon the faults attributetl to the constitution of l/Ul, Avhich seems to nie a very just one. I have only one word to say here upon the project of est;iblishing in France at tliat epoch tlie English fonn of government. Tlmt system is a coniproniiso amongst tlie tliree interests which divide modern states, royalty, aristocracy, and democracy. Now, such an arrangement is feasible only after the exhaustion of their respective strength ; that is to B;iy, after combat ; or, i/i otlier Avoids, after revolution. In Kng- liuid, in fact, it was not efl'octed until after a long struggle— after tlio triuivipii of democracy and usurpation. To atteni]it to com- promise before tlie struggle, is to attempt to make peace before war. It is a mournful but nevertheless an incnntestible truth, that men negotiate only when they have exhausted their strength. 56 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. They supported the two chambers with more effect, because there are, even in a repubUc, higher classes interested to oppose the too rapid proensive veto ; and that I should not oppose a fundamental law which should establish national conventions for fixed periods, or upon the requisition of the assembly of representatives, or on tliat of the provinces, to revise the constitution, and make in it all such alterations as might be judged necessary. They under- stood, by national conventions, assemblies in which all the rights of the nation should centre ; which sliould comprise all powers, and consequently annihilate, by their mere convocation, tlie authority of the monarch and of the ordinary legislature ; dispos- ing arbitrarily of every description of constituted authority, up- setting the constitution at will, and establisliing either despotism or anarchy. In a word, they would have in a certain sense abandoned to a single assembly, bearing the title of National Con- vention, the supreme dictatorship, and exposed the kingdom to a periodical return of factions and disorder. I testified my surprise that they should wish to draw me into a treaty ujwn the interests of the kingdom, as if wo were its abso- lute masters. I observed that, by leaving only a suspensive veto to the first chamber, although composed of eligible members, it would be difficult to form it of persons worthy of public con- fidence ; in such case, all the citizens would prefer beuig named representatives ; and that the chamber, which would be a tri- bunal for trying crimes against the state, ought to be invested with the highest dignity, and consequently that its authority ought not to be uiferior to that of the otiier chamber. In conclu- sion, 1 added, that when I believed a principle true, I felt obliged to maintain it, and that I could not sell it, since truth was the inheritance of all the citizens." HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 67 These questions divided the people as well as the representatives, and, although incapable of compre- hending them, they were not less strenuous in their opinions. They had included them all under the short and comprehensive term of veto. They were partisans or opponents of the veto, and that meant that they were supporters or denouncers of tyranny. The populace, not even imderstanding it in that sense, took the veto for an impost it was necessary to abo- lish, or for an enemy it behoved them to hang ; and they were tierce in their determination to i)ut the foe to the lantern.* The Palais-Royal, especially, was in the greatest fermentation. There congregated men of heated tempers, who, unable to comply even with the forms imposed in the district-meetings, held forth from a chair at their own good pleasure, and were hooted or borne in triumph by vast mobs, which went forth to execute what they had suggested. Camille-Desmou- lins, already mentioned in this work, was distinguished amongst these orators by the energy, the originality, and the cynicism of his mind ; withoiit being cruel, this man loudly demanded acts of cruelty. There likewise was beheld Saint-Hurugue, an old marquis, who had been long imprisoned in the Bastille on account of family feuds, and was exasperated to mad- ness against all authority. All these declaimers re- peated day by day that it behoved the people to go to Versailles, and make inquiry of the king and tlie assembly why they delayed to eifect the public good. Lafayette had the greatest difEculty in restraining them by continual patrolling bands. The national guard was already accused of aristocracy. " There was no patrole at the Ceramicus," cried Caraille-Des- moulins. The name of Cromwell, even, had been pro- nounced in conjunction with Lafayette's. One day (Sunday the 30th August), a motion was made at the Pidais-Royal ; Mounier was denounced, Mirabeau was represented as in danger, and it was proposed to march to Versailles for the purpose of guarding the precious life of the latter. And yet Mirabeau advocated the royal sanction, but without intermitting his part of a popular tribune, or withoiit appearing less so in the eyes of the multitude. Saint-Hurugue, at the head of a few fanatics, proceeded towards the road to Ver- sailles. They desired, as they alleged, to induce the assembly to cashier its faithless representatives, in order that others might be named, and to sohcit the king and the dauphin to visit Paris and place them- selves in safety amidst the people. Lafayette hastened to the spot, stopped them in their course, and compelled them to retrace their steps. The next day, Monday the 31st, they again gathered together. They pre- sented an address to the commune, in whicli they demanded the convocation of the districts to denounce the veto and the deputies who supported it, to revoke their appointment, and nominate others in tlieir place. The commune repelled them twice with exemijlary firmness. During this interval, the assembly was the scene of great agitation. The rioters had ^vritten letters to the principal deputies, filled with threats and invec- tives, one of wliich was signed with the name of Saint-Ilurugue. As soon as tlie assembly met on Monday the 31st, Lally denounced a deputation he * Two inhabitants of the country were speaking of the veto. "Dost thou know what this veto is?" asked one. "Not I." " Then I'll tell tliee. Thou hast tliy porringer full of soup, the king tells thc-c to spill it, and spill it tliou must — that's all." [" Putting to the lantern," it may be observed, was a revolu- tionary phrase, meaning " lianging at a laui])-post," a very usual mode of disposing of victims in Paris at that time. M. Bortrand remarks (vol. ii. p. 14), that having asked a peasant what lie understood by the suspensive veto, against which ho was pouring forth the most violent imprecations, he answered, that " if the sipensive (mispronouncing the word) should pass, tlic king and his ministers might hang whom they pleased." It was with diffi- culty that Bertrand removed the man's impression.] had received fi'om the Palais-Royal. This deputation had urged him to separate from the wicked citizens who supported the veto, and had added that an army of 20,000 men was ready to march. Mounier likewise read letters he had received on his part, and concluded by proposing to prosecute the secret authors of these machinations, and pressing the assembly to ofier a reward of 500,000 francs to any who should give evi- dence to lead to their discovery. A tumxdtuous debate ensued. Duport maintained that it was beneath the dignity of the assembly to occupy its time with such absurdities. Mirabeau read letters addressed to him also, in which the enemies of the poptdar cause treated him with as much rancour as Mounier had been in those he produced. The assembly passed to the order of the day, and Saint-Hurugue, the signer of one of the denounced letters, was imprisoned by order of the commune.* The three questions, embracing the permanence of the representative assemblies, the two chambers, and the veto, were discussed at the same time. The per- manence was voted almost unanimously. The long interruption to national assemblies had been too fatal not to ensure their being rendered permanent. Then came on the great question of the unity of the legis- lative body. The galleries were occupied by a nume- rous and noisy audience. A great many of the deputies withdrew. The president, on that occasion the Bishop of Langres, strove in vain to detain them : they left in crowds. From all sides vehement shouts arose for a division. Lally once more attempted to speak ; he was refused to be heard, the president being taunted with having sent him to the tribtme : one member even went so far as to ask the president if he were not weary of annoying the assembly. Offended at these words, the president quitted the chair, and the dis- cussion was again adjourned. The following day, an address from the town of Rennes was read, in which the veto was declared inadmissible, and all those traitors to the country who should vote for it. Mounier and his friends evinced great indignation, and proposed that the municipality shotdd be severely reprimanded. Mirabeau retorted that the assembly had other duties to perform than giving lectures to mimicipal function- aries, and moved the order of the day. The question upon the two chambers was at length put to the vote, and, amidst a roar of applause, the iinity of the as- sembly was decreed : 499 votes were given for a single chamber, 99 for two chambers, and 122 were lost, from the apprehensions wherewith many of the deputies were inspired. Finally occurred the question of the veto. A middle term had been invented, that of the suspensive veto, which put the law in abeyance during one or more legislatures. This mode was considered as an appesd to the people, because the king, having recourse to fresh assemblies, and yielding to them if they persisted, seemed to appeal in reality to the national authority. Mounier and his party opposed it. They were right according to the system of the English monarchy, where the king consults the national representation, and never obeys it; but they were wrong according to the position thoy l>ad themselves assumed. They were desirous, as they were wont to allege, merely to ])revent precijiitate resolutions. Now, tlie suspensive veto was eeiually eflfectual in that respect as the ab- solute veto. If the representative body persisted, the * [One of tlie letters read on this occasion by tho president of the assembly, which had been addressed to him personally, is, from its curious strain, worthy of being transcribed. It will also serve as a Bami)le of tlie rest. " Tlie patriotic assembly of the Palais-Roynl have the honour to make it known to you, that if the aristocratic faction, formed by some of tlio nobility, clergy, and 120 ignorant and corrupt members, continue to disturb the general harmony, and still iasist uiKin the ahsoluU assent, !i5,(HtO men ;u'e reitdy to eiilhihtcn their country seats and houses, and particularly your own." — Scrt. vol. ii. p. 10.] 58 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. national will became manifest; and, since they ad- mitted its sovereignty, it was absurd to resist it inde- finitelj'. The ministry, in fact, was sensible that the suspen- sive veto would in practice liave the effect of the absolute veto, and Necker advised the king to take the credit of a voluntary sacrifice, by addressing a message to the assemJily in favour of the suspensive veto. A rumour of tl'iis intention got abroad, and the design and spirit of the message were known beforehand, it was presented on the lltli September, every member being thoroughly acquainted with its purport. It might have been imagined that Jlouuier, advocating the" cause of the throne, could not have views distinct from the occupier of that throne ; but parties soon acquire interests apart from those they profess to serve. jNIounier repudiated this commu- nication, saying that if the king renounced a pre- rogative beneficial to tlie nation, it ought to be con- ferred upon him in spite of himself, and for the public weal. Tlie usual parts were reversed, and the adver- saries of royalty now supported the king's interference ; but their exertions were fruitless, and the memorial was rudeh' rejected. Frcsli explanations were entered into upon the meaning of the word " assent," and the question was raised whether such a right was essential to the constitution. After declaring that the consti- tuent power was superior to the constituted powers, it Avas established that the assent was only to be exercised upon legislative acts, and to be entirely dispensed A^ith upon constitutive acts, which latter were to be simply promulgated. 673 votes were given for the suspensive veto, and 325 for the absolute veto. Thus were the fundamental articles of the new constitution framed. Mounier and Lally-Tolendal inmiediately resigned their fmictions as members of the constitiition-committee. A multitude of decrees had by this time been passed, •\dtliout any having been as yet presented for the royal acceptance. It was consequently resolved to lay the measures of the 4th August before the king. It was debated whether an assent or a simple pronudgation should be asked, according as they might be deemed legislative or constitutive acts. Maury, and even Lally-Tolendal, had the folly to assert that they were legislative, and to demand the assent, as if they had anticipated some obstacle from the royal power. Mirabeau, with infinite tact, maintained that certain of tliem abolished the feudal system, and were emi- HQutly constitutive, whilst others were purely acts of munificence on the part of the nobility and clergy, and that it was an insult to imagine that those orders desired the king to recall their liberality. Chapelier added, that the formal consent of the king coiM be scarcely deemed necessary, since he had approved of them already by accepting the title of restorer of French liberty, and sanctioning the Te Deum by his presence. In consequence, the king was solicited to make a simple proclamation.* A member suddenly moved resolxitions that the croAvn was hereditary and the royal person inviolable. The assembly, sincerely desirous of recognising the king as the first hereditary magistrate, voted these two articles by acclamation. Th.e inviolability of the heir-apparont was then proposed, but the Duke de Mortemart instantly objected that sons had sometimes attempted to dethrone their fathers, and that it was Expedient to leave a power of punishing them. For this reason tlie proposition was rejected. With refe- rence to tlie clause upon the hereditary transmission from male to male, and branch to branch, the deputy Arnoult moved that the renunciation of the Spanisli branch, made in the treaty of Utrecht, should be con- firmed. It was argued in reply, that there was no room for deliberation, since it was highly imprudent to alien- ate a faithful ally, ilirabeau declared himself of this • Tlieae decrees wore presented to liiin on the 20th September. opinion, and the assembly passed to the orderof tlieday. In a few moments Mirabeau, desiring to make an expe- riment which has been improperly estimated, resolved upon re-opening the question which he had himself contributed to settle. Tlie house of Orleans would be in competition with the house of Spain, in the event of the reigning branch becoming extinct. Mirabeau had perceived a malevolent eagerness to pass to the order of the day. Unconnected with the Duke of Orleans, though intimate with him, as he knew how to be with every body, he was anxious, nevertheless, to know the state of parties, and to ascertain who were the friends and who the enemies of the duke. The question of the regency presented itself ; in a case of minority, the brothers of the king could not be guardians of their nephew, as they were the imme- diate heirs of the royal ward, and consequently but inditferently interested in his preservation. The regency, therefore, woxdd fall to the nearest relation, who was the queen, the Duke of Orleans, or the Spanish branch. Jlirabeau moved that the regency should be conferred only on a man born in France. " The acquaintance," said he, " that I have with the geography of this assemblj^ the regions from which the shouts for the order of the day have rolled, con- vince me that no less a question is at issue than one of foreign domuiation ; and that the proposition not to dehberate, apparently Spanish, is possibly none other than Austrian!" At these words exclamations re- sounded through the hall ; the debate was resumed with extraordinary vehemence ; all the dissentients again lustily vociferated for the order of the day. Mirabeau fruitlessly repeated to them at every shout that they could be actuated by only one motive, a desire to introduce a foreign supremacy into France ; they gave him no answer, for it was true enough that tliey preferred a foreigner to the Duke of Orleans. At last, after a debate of two days, it was again re- solved that there was no room for deliberation. But 3Iirabeau had obtained his object, by forcing parties to develope themselves. His conduct on this occasion Avas certain to provoke accusations against him, and he was tlienceforth stigmatised as an agent of the Orleans faction.* * The particulars of Mirabeau's proceedings in reg^ard to all parties are not yet sufficiently ascertained, but are intended to bo illustrated ere long. I liave obtained imdoubted iufonuation from those cliarged with the publication ; I Ijave had in my possession several important docum(!nts, and especially the paper WTitten in tlie form of a profession of faith, which constituted his secret treaty witli the court. I am not permitted to give any of those documents to tlie public, nor even to specify their holders. I can only state what tlie futm-e wUl sufficiently demonstrate, when all the i>roofs shall have been published. I am, however, enabled to afiirm with distinctness, that Jlu-abeau never was concerned in the suspected plots of the Duke of Orleans. Mirabeau came from Provence actuated by a single design, namely, to battle with the arbitrary power from which he had suffered wi'ong, and which his reason as well as his feelings taught him to rcg-ard as detest- able. AA'hen at P;uis, he frequently visited a banker, then well known, and a man of considerable merit. In his house the usual topics of conversation were politics, finance, and political eco- nomy. Mirabeau there derived much information upon these matters, and formed a connexion with what was called the exiled Genevese colony, of which Claviere, afterwards minister of finance, was a member. However, Jlirabeau contracted no strictly intimate ties. He had a gi-cat deal of familiarity in his manners, winch he derived from a consciousness of power; a feeling he often carried to imprudent lengths. Owing to this familiar bearing, lie was on easy terms with every body, and ap- peared closely united with all tliose whom he addressed. It was tlius that he Wiis repeatedly imagined the friend and accomplice of divers men witli whom he had no interest in common. I liavo already said, and I now rejicat, that he was of no party. The aristocracy could not endure his name ; the party of Necker and Mounier was unable to come to an understanding with liim. The Duke of Orleans alone was in a position to appear united with him. And they were believed to be so, in fact, because Jlirabeau was on familiar tjrnis with the duke, and because both being suspected of soaring ambition, the one as a prince, the other as a HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 69 ^V^lilst still excited by this angry discussion, the assembly received the king's answer to the resolutions of the 4th August. The king signified his approval of their spirit, but gave to some only a conditional adherence, in the hope they would be modified when finally framed for execution, and to the majority of them he repeated the objections alleged in the debate, and disregarded by the assembly. Mirabeau mounted the tribune. " We have not thoroughly exanuned," said he, " the superiority of the constituent power over the executive power ; we have in some sort ctist a veil over such questions (the assembly in reality had ex- plained in its own favour the manner in which tliey should be understood, without passing any regular decree on the subject) ; but if our constitutive autho- rity be disputed, we shall be obliged to assert it. Let Bs act frankly and without prevarication. We confess there are difficulties in tlie execution, but we do not insist upon that execution. Thus we claim the aboli- tion of offices, but at the same time assign reimburse- ment for the future, and the scciu-ity for that reim- bui'sement; we declare the im^iost, which serves to subsidise the clergy, destructive to agriculture, but until a substitute be found for it, we order the collec- tion of tithes ; we abolish seignorial jurisdictions, but leave them in existence until other tribunals are esta- blished. The same may be observed of the other articles ; they all embody principles which it is essen- tial to render irrevocable by giving them promulgation. But, indeed, were they false, the public mind is in possession of these resolutions, and it is no longer jjos- sible to refuse them. Let us repeat mgenuously to the king what Philip ll.'s fool said to that despotic prince : — ' Wiat wouldst thou do, Philip, if all the world said yes, when thou saidst no ? ' " The assembly directed its president to proceed again to the king, to solicit his promulgation. The king yielded to the demand. On its part, the assembly, deliberating on the duration of the suspensive veto, extended it to two legislatm-es ; but it was wrong to let too strong an inference be drawn that it was in some degree a recompense granted to Louis XVL for the concessions he had just made to imblic opinion. AMiilst the assembly jiursued its way amidst the obstacles raised by the sullen animosity of the privi- leged classes and the popular oiitbreaks, other diffi- culties accmnulated around it, and gave its enemies cause of exultation. These hoped it would be para- lysed by the financial distress, as the com-t itself had been. The first loan of .30,000,000 had not suc- ceeded ; a second of 80,000,000, ordained on a fresh tribune, they seemed marked out for allies. Tlie penury of Jlira- bcau, and the affluence of Orleans, likewise appeared a probable bond of union. Nevertlieless, Mirabeau remained poor until his connexion with the court, lie then kept watch on all parties, took every opportunity to drive them into explanations, and felt his own ini))ortance too sensibly to bind himself without full con- sideration. Once only he engaced in some distant relations with one of the supposed agents of the Duke of Orleans. lie was in- vited to dinner liy this alleged agent, and he, to whom risk was never a subject of thought, accci)tod the invitation more from i curiosity than any other motive. IJcforc proceeding to the enter- tainment, lie communicated the matter to his confidential friend, aJid testified much satisfaction at the coming conference, in wliich he expected to elicit important revelations. The dinner passed over, and Mirabeau came to report what had occurred : he had been merely treated to vague expressions concerning the Duke of Orleans, the estimation in wliich he held the talents of Mirabciiu, and the fitnesi he conceived him to possess for governing a state. This conference was, therefore, a very insignificant affair, and could at the most but indicate that the party would willingly make a minister of Mirabeau. Tlius he did not fail to remark to his friend, witli his accustomed gaiety: " I can scarcely avoid bo- coming a minister, for tlie Duke of Orleans and the king are equally bent on nominating me." Such observations were mere ebullitions of pleasantry, for Jlirabeau never believed in the im- puted projects of the duke. I will give in a subsequent note some fuTtbcr particulars. proposition from Necker,* had not been attended with a more fortunate residt. " Go on and discuss," cried j\I. Degouy Darcy one day ; " let time quietly slip away, and at the expiration of a certain period, we shall be in the final agony ! — I am about to connmmicate to you some awful truths." " Order ! order !" shouted several members. " No, no, speak !" responded others. A deputy arose : " Contmue," said he to M. Degouy ; " spread alarm and terror! "Wliat matter? what w'ill happen ? — we shall contribute a share of our fortunes, and all will be hushed." M. Degouy proceeded : " The loans that you have voted have yielded nothing ; there are not 10,000,000f in the treasury." At thes"e words he was again surrounded, remonstrated with, and silenced. The Duke d'Aiguillon, chairman of the finance committee, gave his statement a direct con- trafliction, by proving that there were 22,000,000 in the coflfers of the state. However, it was resolved that Fridays and Saturdays should be especially de- voted to financial matters. Necker himself at length came forward. Oppressed with his continual struggles, he renewed his incessant complaint, reproaching the assembly with ha%ing done nothing to relieve the financial embarrassinents, after sitting five months. The two loans had been mipro- ductive, because the disorders had destroyed credit. Money was hidden, and foreigners had testified no disposition to invest their capitals in the proposed loans. Emigration and the departure of travellers had likewise lessened the circulating medium, and there scarcely remained sufficient currency for daily use. The king and queen had been obliged to send their plate to the mint. In consequence of this disas- trous state of things, Necker asked for a contribution of a fourth of incomes, affirming that such a supply appeared to him sufficient for all purposes. A com- mittee consumed three days in investigating this plan, of which it reported most favourably. Mirabeau, the known enemy of the minister, was the first to speak, pressing the assembly to sanction the plan without discussing it. " Not having time to weigh it," said he, " you ought not to take upon yourselves the responsibility of the event, by approving or cor.demn- ing the proposed measm-e." On this ground he re- commended the assembly to vote the project at once and in confidence. The assembly, moved by his rea- s(His, adopted the proposition, and directed ^Mirabeau to retire and draw up the decree. During the inter- val, the sensation partially evaporated, and the oppo- nents of the minister asserted resources to exist which had escaped the acumen of Necker. His friends, on the contrary, attacked Mirabeau, and complained that he designed to crush him by making him responsible for events. Mirabeau returned and road his decree. " You plant a dagger in the minister's plan," exclaimed M. de Virion. Mirabeau, never recoiling without a vigorous rejoinder, frankly avowed his motives ; he granted he laid himself open when he stated that it was his desire to tlirow upon M. Necker alone the responsibility of events ; he said he had not the honour to rank as his friend, but were he his tcndcrcst friend, being a citizen before all ties, he would not hesitate to compromise him rather than the assembl}'-; that he was far from believing the kingdom would be in danger should M. Necker be deceived, but that, on the contrary, the public safety would be seriously com])romised if tiie assembly staked its credit and failed in a decisive operation. He sulisequcntly sug- gested an address to stimtdate the national i)atriotism and support the ministerial project. Ciieers resoimdcd from all sides, but still the debate was maintaineil. Multifarious amendments were pro- posed, and the time was consiuned in frivolous subtle- ties. Irritated at such pertinacious opposition, and imi)ressed with the urgent nature of the emergency, he scaled the tribune for the last time, worked himself * Decree of tlio 27th August. t About £420,000. 60 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. into possession of it, exhibited the question in its proper aspect with admirable perspicuity, and demon- strated tlie impossibihty of lightly shaking: off the dire necessities of the moment. Then, liis genius warming to inspiration, he depicted all the horrors of bankruptcy ; he presented it under the guise of a pestilent impost, which, instead of i)ressing gently upon all, falls on a portion only, whom it grinds to the dust ; he likened it to a yawning chasm, into which living victims are hurled, but which closes not even after it has engulfed them, for not the less is owing because a refusal is made to pay. Finally, wielding the effective engine of terror — " The other day," said he, " on occasion of a contemptible motion at the Palais-Royal, a voice exclaimed, ' Catiline is at the gates of Rome, and you deliberate!' and yet there was no Catiline, no peril, no Rome ; but to-day hideous bankruptcy lowers on you, threatening to devour yourselves, your honour, your fortunes — and you deli- berate!" At these words the assembly, in a transport, rose, uttering shouts of enthusiasm. A deputy desired to reply ; he advanced, but, terrified at his owm temerity, he stood motionless and speechless. The assembly forthwith resolved that, having heard the report of its committee, it adopted the plan of the minister of finance in confidence. Such is the charm of eloquence ; but only he could work similar marvels who possessed at once the intellect and the passions of oMirabeau. CHAPTER IV. INTRIGUES OF THE COURT ATTACK ON THE PALACE OF VERSAILLES — THE KING AND THE ASSEMBLY RE- MOVE TO PARIS FORMATION OF CLUBS. Whilst the assembly was thus extending its care to all parts of the social edifice, great events were brood- ing. By the junction of the orders, the nation had regained legislative and constituent supremacy. As a consequence of the 14th July, it had taken arms to support its representatives. Thus the king and the aristocracy stood isolated and disarmed, having nothing more in their behalf than the feeling of their rights, which none partook, and brought in front of a nation prepared for combat and victory. Notwithstanding this position, the court, secluded in a small town almost solely peopled by its retainers, was in some sort beyond the popular influence, and might even attempt a sudden blow at the assembly. It was natural that Paris, situated at the distance of afew leagues from Versailles, the metropolis of the kingdom, and the abode of a prodigious multitude, should be wishful to draw the king within its walls, ■with a view to free him from all aristocratic influence, and secure the advantages which the residence of the court and government always confer on a town. After having reduced the autliority of the king, it remained only to make sure of his person. Sucli was the inevitable tendency of events, and from all quarters the cry was heard : " The king to Paris !" The aristocracy no longer attempted to shield itself from additional losses. It was too disdainful of what still remained as its possession to take any pains to preserve it ; hence it was quite as eager for a violent change as the pojuilar party itself A revolution is inevitable when two parties are coincident in promoting it. Both contribute to the catastrophe, and the strongest reajis the profit. Whilst the patriots were bent on conducting the king to Paris, the court meditated his transit to Metz. There, in an impregnable fastness, he might have ordered whatever his caprice promjjted, or, to sjjcak more correctly, whatever tlie caprice of those around him prompted. The courtiers were busy hatching schemes, devising plans, seeking to enlist partisans, and, beside themselves with empty hopes, betray- ing their own machinations by imprudent threats. D'Estaing, of recent renown, won in the van of French squadrons, commanded the national guard of Ver- sailles. He wished to be faithful to the nation and the court — a difficult part, ever open to obloquy, and which almost unexampled firmness can alone render honourable. He became apprised of the intrigues of the courtiers. The highest personages were amongst the number of the plotters ; witnesses the most worthy of credence had been cited to him, and he wrote that well-known letter to the queen, in which he spoke to her with respectful energy on the impropriety and danger of such manceuvres. He disg-uised nothing, aud specified every name.* The letter was without * The letter of the Count d'Estaing to the queen is a curious record, and ought always to be consulted with reference to the events of the r>th and (jth October. Tliat lionest sailor, full of loyalty and independence (two qualities seemingly contradictory, but wliich are often found in conjunction in the breasts of sea- men), had preserved the habit of speaking his mind to princes whom he loved. His testimony is above all suspicion, when in a confidential letter he lays before the queen the intritrues he has discovered and been alarmed by. It will sliow whether the court was in reality without a scheme at that period. | " My duty and loyalty demand that I lay at the feet of the queen an account of tlie journey I have made to Paris. I have been praised for sleeping soundly on the eve of an assault or 5 naval combat. I may venture to assert that I am not prone to timidity in any atfairs. Reared with the dauphin, who was pai-tial to me, accustomed to speak the truth at Versailles from early boyhood, a soldier and a sailor, conversant with forms, I reve- rence them without allowing them to fetter my frankness or my finnness. Thus am I boimd to confess to your majesty that I have been imable to close my eyes all night. I have been told in high circles, in good society (what might be the consequence, gracious Heavens, should it spread amongst the people !) — ay, repeatedly told, that signatures are canvassed for amongst the clergy and the nobility. Some persons allege that it is in concert with the king ; others maintain that it is without his knowledge. It is confidently asserted that there is a regular plan formed ; that it is by Cham- pagne or Verdun that the king will withdraw or be removed ; that he will go to Metz. Bouill6 is named, and by whom ?— by M. de Lafayette, who mentioned it to me in a whisper at the table of M. Jauge. I shuddered lest a single domestic might overhear him ; I remarked to him that one word from his lips might prove a signal of death. M. de Lafayette is a cold calculator ; he answered me that at Metz, as elsewhere, the patriots were thestrongest, and that it was better one man should die for the safety of all. The Baron de Breteuil, who is so slow to depart, manages the plan. Money is taken up, and promises held out to furnish a million and a half per month. The Coxmt de Mercy is unfortu- nately specified as acting in concert. Such are the reports ; if they are disseminated amongst the people, the result is not to be calculated ; as yet they are circulated in whispers. Good men liave testified to me their terrors for the consequences ; the mere suspicion of the fact may produce terrible ones. I visited the Spanish ambassador, and I shall assuredly not conceal from the queen that at his house my alarm was redoubled. 51. Femand Nunfts talked witli me concerning these false rumours, concern- ing the honor that was expressed at the bare Idea of so incon- ceivable a plan, wliich would draw after it the most dis-istrous and humiliating of civil wars ; which would occasion the partition or the total loss of tlie monarchy, given up as a prey to domestic rage and foreign ambition ; and which would expose the person- ages the most dear to France to irreparable misfortunes. After speaking of a wandering, persecuted court, betrayed by those who have not supported it when they had it in their power, who wish simply to involve it in their own downfall — the nation struck by an universjU bankruptcy, from that moment inevitable, and all things fearful to contemplate, I interrupted him by exclaim- ing, thiit at all events there could be no other mischief than that which this false intelligence might produce if it became preva- lent, because it was an idea without imy foundation. The Spanish ambassador cast his eyes to the gi'ound at this last phrase. I then became urgent ; he at length confessed tliat some one of rank and undoubted credibility had informed him he had been asked to sign an association. He persisted in refusing to name liim ; but either from inattention, or for the sake of good, he fortunately did not exact my word of honour, which it would have been imperative on rae to keep. 1 made no promise not to mention the fact. It has impressed me with a greater degree of terror than I have ever experienced. It is not for myself that I feel this alarnx HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 61 effect. When entering on such enterprises, the queen possibly anticipated remonstrances, or, at all events, could scarcely feel surprised at them. At this period a crowd of strangers appeared in Versailles, and even unknown uniforms were seen. The company of the body-guards, whose period of duty had expired, was detained ; some dragoons and chasseurs of the regiment " Trois-Eveches" were summoned. The French guards, who had quitted the king's personal ser\T[ce, were mortitied that the duty was intrusted to others, and resolved to repair to Versailles, in order to resume it. They had cer- tainly no reason to complain, since they had them- selves abandoned that service ; but they were, as it is said, excited by others to the project. It was charged upon the court at the time, upon the allegation that it designed to alarm the king by this expedient, and draw him to Metz. One fiict sufficiently demonstrates this intention. Since the riots of the Palais-Royal, Lafayette, in order to intercejit the communication between Paris and Versailles, had fixed a post at Sevres. He was compelled to withdraw it, on the demand of the deputies of the right side in the as- sembly. Lafeyette succeeded in stopping the French guards, and dissuading them from their design. He wrote a confidentialletter to the minister, Saint-Priest, informing him of what had occurred, and removing all apprehensions of danger. Saint-Priest, making an improper use of the letter, showed it to D'Estaing, w ho in his turn commmiicated it to the officers of the Versailles national guard, and to the municipality, for the pm-pose of apprising them of the calamities which had threatened the town, and of those which might threaten it again. It was proposed to call in the regiment of Flanders ; many battalions of the Ver- sailles guard opposed the measure, but the mmiici- pality persisted in sending its requisition, and the regiment was summoned. One regiment was but a feeble force against the assembly, but it was sufficient to carry off the king, and cover his flight. D'Estaing informed the national assembly of the measures that had been taken, and obtained its approval. The regi- ment arrived ; the military parade which accompanied it, though not very formidable, did not fail to excite murmurs. The body-guards and the courtiers crowded round the ofiicers, overwhelmed them with congratu- lations, and, as before the 14th July, they appeared in close confederacy and mutual understanding, and buoyed up by sanguine and lofty hopes. The confidence of the court aggravated the distrust of Paris, and banquets ere long insulted the misery of the people. On the 2d October the body-guards were moved to give a feast to the officers in garrison. This festival was held in the saloon of the theatre. The b )xes were filled with spectators from the court. The officers of the national guard were amongst the aruests. A sprightly gaiety reigned throughout the entertain- ment, which wine soon fanned into fervour. The s;)ldiers of the regiments were then introduced. The company, with ch-awn swords, drank to the health of the royal family ; the toast of the nation was spurned, or at aU events omitted ; the trumpets sounded the charge, the boxes were scaled with vociferous shouts ; the significant and well-known song of " Oh lUchard! oh my king! the universe afxnuhns thee!" was chanted in chorus ; pledges were given to die for the king, as I entreat the queen to reflect, in her wisdom, upon all that may result from a fiilse step ; the first cost sufliciently dear. I have seen the excellent heart of the queen melt into tears at the fate of victims given up to execution ; in this case there would be torrents of blood blied uselessly, for vain re(?ret. Mere indecision may be without remedy. It is only by anticipating the design, by appearing even to foster it, that it may be partially controlled. Nothing isasyot lost. The queenmay re-conquer hiskingdom for the king. Nature has lavislied upon her the means ; tlicy of themselves are sufhcient. She may imitate her august niothor ; if not, I am silent. I beseech your majesty to grant me an audience some day in the course of this week." if he had been in the greatest danger ; in a word, the delirium passed all bounds. White or black cockades, but all of a single colour, were distributed in profu- sion. The young of both sexes, glowing with chivalric recollections, animated each other with fervent phrases. It was at this moment that the national cockade was, as is alleged, trampled under foot. The fact was after- wards denied ; but did not the intoxication render every thing credible, and every thing excusable ? And besides, why hold such meetings, which raised on one side only transitory emotions of loyalty, and on the other a settled and vindictive exasperation ? When the scene had reached this height, the queen was dis- turbed in her apartments, and she consented to grace the festival with her presence. The king was sur- rounded as he returned from the chase, and he too was drawn to the scene. The company threw them- selves at the feet of both, and escorted them, as if in triumph, to their apartments. It is unquestionably sweet, when a man believes himself despoiled and menaced, to find friends ; yet that is but a poor reason for self-deception, as regards duty, power, and means. The report of this banquet was soon disseminated, and doubtless the popular imagination, in circulating the particulars, superadded its own exaggerations to those the festivity itself had caused. The promises given to the king were held as threats dealt out to the nation ; the prodigality so ostentatiously displaj ed was regarded as a deliberate mockery of the public wretchedness, and the vociferations " To Versailles!'" recommenced with greater violence than ever. Thus smaller causes combined to aggravate the effect of general causes. Some young men who appeared in Paris with black cockades were assaulted ; one of them was dragged along by the populace, and the commime found itself compelled to prohibit cockades of a single colour. The day after the fatal festival, a fresh scene, almost similar in its features, occurred on the occasion of a breakfast given by the body-guards in the circus of the riding-school. The company, as before, were presented to the queen, who expressed to them her satisfaction at the demonstration of Thursday. She was hstened to with eagerness, because, being less reserved than the king, from her lips the sentiments of the court were gathered, and all her words were stored up and repeated. Irritation pervaded the public mind to a fearful extent, and the most deplorable consequences might justly have been anticipated. A connnotion, as it chanced, was agreeable both to the people and the court ; to the people, as a means of securing the person of the king, and to the court, as a means of terrifying him into a retreat to Metz. Neither was it repugnant to the Duke of Orleans, inasnmch as he hoped to obtain the lieutenancy of the kingdom if the king should withdraw himself; it has been even stated that his expectations aspired to the crown itself, which is scarcely credible, for he lacked boldness of mind sufficient for such lofty views. The advantages which he liad grounds for anticipating from this new insur- rection, have caused him to be accused of having par- ticipated in it; but the charge is groundless. He could not liave imparted the impulse, for it resulted from the force of circumstances ; he appears at the most to have seconded it; and, even in tliis respect, a multifarious investigation, and time, whicli unlocks all secrets, have brought to liglit no trace of a con- certed plan. There is little doubt that the Duke of Orleans was then, as during tlie whole revolution, merely in the train of the jiopular movement, distri- l)uting perhaps a little gold, furnishing occasion to certain mob i)hrascs, and indulging himself in vague hopes.* * [" The insurrection of the. 5th and fith October was a true popu- lar movement. It is useless to searcli for secret motives to account for it, or to attribute it to hidden intrigues of aml)ition ; it was Iirovoked by the imprudence of the court. Tlie banquet of the life-guards, rumours of flight, apprehensions of civil war, ana 62 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. The populace, already agitated by the discussions on the veto, exasperated 1)}' the black cockades, an- noyed by the constant patrols, and tortui'ed by the pangs of hunger, was in open revolt. Eailly and Necker had neglected no means to render food abun- dant ; but from tiie difricnlties of transport, the spolia- tions endured on tlie route, and, above all, from the utter impossibility of acting with the same efhcicncy as the spontaneous movements of commerce, the sup- plies of flour fell short. On the 4th October the agi- tation was greater than ever. Tiie departure of the king for Metz was bruited abroad, and the necessity of going to Versailles in search of him was openly canvassed ; the black cockades were execrated ; Ijread was vociferously demanded. Numerous bodies of patrol succeeded in restraining the populace from outrage, and the night passed over in comparative tranquillit}'. But from dawn on the following day mol)s began again to gather. The women flocked to the bakers' sho]>s ; breail was wanting, and they rusb.cd to the town-hall to poiu- forth their complaints to the representatives of the commune. Those functionaries had not yet assembled, and a battalion of the national guard was drawn up in the square. Men now joined the women, but tliey refused to receive them, crying out that men were merely an incumbrance. They then fell precipitately on the battalion, and drove it back with showers of stones. At tliis instant, a door having been forced, the town-hall was invaded ; bri- gands with ])ikes forced their way in with the women, and attempted to set the edifice on fire. Their atro- cious design was prevented, but they got possession of the door loading to the great tower, and soiuidod the tocsin. The faubourgs fortliwith put themselves in motion. A citizen named Maillard, one of those who had sigiudised themselves at the capture of the Bas- tille, considted the officer in command of the battalion of the national guard as to the means by which the town-hall might be dcliveredfrom these furious women. The officer durst not sanction the expedient he pro- posed, which was to draw them together again under the pretext of going to Versailles, but without actually leading them thither. However, Maillard decided for himself, took a drum, and soon gathered them aromid him. They were grotesquely armed with clubs, broom- sticks, muskets, and cutlasses. AVith this extraordi- nary armament, lie passed down the quay, traversed the Louvre, was forced in spite of himself to lead it through the Tuileries, and at last debouched on the Champs-Elysces. There he exhorted them to lay down their weapons, on the ground that they ought to present themselves to the assem'oly as supx)liants, and not as rioters in arms. The women consented to follow his advice, and Maillard was then compelled to lead them to Versailles, for it was utterly impossible to dissuade them from the enterprise. To this point an irresistible current of opinion had set in. Bands of men departed, dragging cannon ; others surrounded the national guard, which, again, surrounded its gene- ral, to draw him to Versailles, the object of all hopes. SVhilst the capital was thus convulsed, the court was at perfect ease ; but the assembl}' was roused to anger by a message it received from tlie king. It had presented for his acceptance the constitutional articles and the declaration of rights. His reply ought to have been a pure and unconditional acceptation, with a ])romise to promulgate tlicm. For the second time, the king, witliout exjjlaining himself too lucidly, addix'ssed a series of observations to the assembly; he gave his accession to the constitutional articles, but famine, alone propelled Paris on Versailles. If particular insti- gators contributed to produce the movement, which the most indefatij,';ible of prejudiced inquisitors have left in doul)t, they changed neitlier its direction nor its object. Tlie consc(iuencc of the event Wits the dchtruction of the ancient system of the cinirt ; it took away its guard, transported it from the royal residence of Versailles to the capital of the revolution, and seated it under tlio eye of the pcvple."— jV/i/nrf, vol. i. p. 113.] without expressing approval of them ; he allowed divers good maxims to exist in the declaration of rights, but they required explanations ; the whole, in fine, could only be judged of, as he said, when the entire body of the constitution was framed. This was vmquestionably a defensible opinion, and indeed many jurisconsults partook it ; but the prudence of express- ing it at this period was more than doubtfid. Scarcely had the answer been read ere murmiu's arose. Robes- pierre said that the king mistook his fnnctions when he wrote critiques to the assembly, and Duport, that the message ought to have been countersigned by a responsible minister. Pet ion took the opportunitj- to introduce the banquet of the body-guards, and he de- nounced, in energetic terms, the imprecations levelled at the assembly. Gregoire spoke of the famine, and asked the reason why a letter had been addressed to a miller, promising him 200 livres (£8) a-week if he would grind no corn. Such a letter proved nothing, for it might have emanated from any party; but it nevertheless excited considerable tumult, in the midst of w'idch M. de Monspey called upon Potion to sign his denunciation. Thereupon Mirabeau, who had dis- approved, even in the tribune, the speeches of Petion and Grcgoire, rose to answer M. de Jlonspey. " I was the first to express disapprobation at those impo- litic denunciations," said he; "but since 5'ou insist upon driving matters to extremity, I will be myself the denouncer, and I wiU affix my signature, when it shall have been proclaimed that there is no inviola- bility in France but for the king alone." At this terrible menace immediate silence ensued, and the king's answer was again taken up. It was eleven o'clock in the morning, and intelligence of the com- motions at Paris was at that moment brought. jNIira- beau went up to the president, Mounier, who, having been recently elected to the chair in spite of the cla- mours of the Palais-Royal, and menaced with a glo- I'ious f;dl, displayed an indomitable firnmess during that mournful day. Mirabeau drew near him, and said in a low tone — " Pai-is is marching on us : feign ill- ness, hasten to the palace, and teU the king to accept purely and unconditionally." "Paris marches!" replied IMouuier ; " so much the better : let them kill us all— all, however — and the state will be vastly benefited !" " Your remark is truly profumid !" retorted iNIirabeau, and returned to his place. The debate continued until three o'clock, when it was decided that the pre- sident should wait upon the king, to solicit from him a pure and unconditional acceptation. As Mounier was preparing to leave the hall, in order to proceed to the palace, a deputation was announced. It was Maillard, and the women who had followed him. Mail- lard demanded permission to enter and address the assembly ; he Avas accordingly introduced, the Avomen rushing tumultuously at his heels and penetrating into the body of the house. He commenced an expo- sition of what had occurred at Paris, enlarging upon the want of bread and the desperate condition of the peojilc ; he spoke of the letter addressed to the miller, and pretended that some one whom he had met on the road had stated that a priest was prepared to denounce it. This priest was Gregoire, and, as has been already related, he had made his denunciation. A voice hereupon accused Juigne, Bisliop of Paris, of being the author of the letter. Indignant cries arose, repelling the imputation upon so virtuous a prelate Maillard and his deputation were called to order. They were told that measures had been taken to provision Paris, that the king had omitted no precaution, that the assembly was aliout to entreat him to order addi- tional exertions, that they must now withdraw, and that disorders were not the means for removing famine. Mounier then departed to visit the palace ; the women crowded aVound him, and insisted upon accompanying him : he at first refused to listen to the proposal, but was ultimately obliged to admit six as his companions to the royal audience. He had to make his way through - X./ (jrMm<7/t//e'l '^y//- f '^^^>f^/i cyfa/e/rna/ 7///aM_y/i'//'^-^' ^ „y U,,c„ ,.■ ^u;r, „„ ^ u./,.,. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 63 the hordes arrived from Paris, who were armed with pikes, hatchets, and iron-hoiind chibs. The rain poiired in torrents. A detachment of the body-guards charged the mob surrounding the president, and drove it back ; but the women soon rejoined IMounier, and he at length reached the palace, where he found the regi- ment of Flanders, the dragoons, the Swiss, and the national guard of Versailles, drawn up in battle array. Instead of six women, he was conspelled to take twelve with him : the king received them with kindness, and commiserated their distress, which gracious deport- ment sensibty afi'ected them. One of them, a yoimg and pretty girl, was so overpowered at sight of the monarch, that she covild scarcely ejaculate the word " bread." The king, touched at her emotion, embraced b.er, and the women retired from the presence deej^ly moved by the interview.* Their companions awaited Ihem at the gate of the palace : they refused to believe llieir rejjort, saying, they had allowed themselves to be seduced, and prepared to tear them in pieces. Tlie tody-guards, commanded by the Count de Guiche, ran forward to disengage them ; musket-shots rattled from various quarters, two guardsmen fell, and several women were wounded. Not far from this tumidt, one of the mob, at the head of some women, pierced the ranks of the battalions and advanced to the railing of the ptdace. ?.I. de Savonnieres pursued this daring man, but he received a shot which broke his arm. These skirmishes engendered the worst feeUng on both sides. Tlie kmg, informed of the dangerous position of affairs, sent an order to his guards not to fire, and to retire to their barracks. Whilst they were withdrawing, some shots were exchanged between them and the national guard of Versailles, but from which side the first shots were fired has never been ascertained.! During these deplora.ble conflicts, the king was hold- ing a council, and Mounier was impatiently awaiting his determination. The latter sent repeated iutimations to the king that his duties called him to the assemblj^ that the declaration of his acceptance woidd tranquU- lise the publico mind, and that unless an answer were vouchsafed him, he must withdraw, as he could not longer absent himself from his post. It was debated in the council whether the king should leave Ver- sailles ; it continued in consultation from six till ten in the evening, and the king, as is said, was princi- pally moved to remain, lest he should leave the place vacant for the Duke of Orleans. It was resolved that the queen and the children should be removed, but the crowd stopped the carriages the instant they ap- peared ; and, furthermore, the qiieen had courageously determined not to separate from her husband. At length, about ten o'clock, Mounier received the pure and unconditional acceptation, and returned to the assembly. The deputies had left, and the hall was occupied by women. He annomiced to them the king's * [" The women who liad pone into the palace with the depu- tation from the assembly, were extremely atilcted at the sensi- bility shown by the king on hearing the aeeount of the pretended want of the metropolis. One of them, whose name was Loiiisi Chabry, a young woman of seventeen year.s of age, who worked at a Ciirvcr's, and wlio was commissioned to represent the griev- ances of the Parisians to his m.ijesty, could not support tlie emo- tion of tenderness or timidity she felt, and fainted. Every thing was done to recover her: as she was going away, she wished to kiss the king's hand ; but his majesty, saying kindly to her that she deser\ ed better than that, did Iicr the honour to kiss her lips. Tlicy all retired well satislicd, crying in the court, ' God bifsx lite khii) oml his family ! To-morrow we shall have bread I ' "—licrlrand, vol. ii. p. 83.] t [M. Bertrand, of course, charges the offence on the national guards, in the following uidigiiant passage: " It is almost neces- sary to have been an eye-wilness to these scenes of horror, to be able to believe that that base and unprovoked discharge was nuide by the national guard of Versailles only. Vcs, by those very men on whom, three days before, the body-guards had lavished, and from whom tney liad received, the most affectionate marlts pi iriendship and good-will.— Vol ii. p. tJl.] concession, which information they received with great composm-e, asking him, at the same time, whether their condition v/ould be amended thereby, and espe- cially whether they shoidd have svifiicient bread. Mounier returned as cheering an answer as he could, and caused to be distril)uted amongst them all the bread that it was possible to procure. That night, in which it is so ditRcult to fix the wrongs that were committed, the numicipality assuredly was guilty of one in not providing for the wants of tliat famished crowd, wliich insutnciency of food hud driven forth from Paris, and which could not have obtained any on the road after its departure. At this moment the arrival of Lafayette was an- nounced. He had struggled for eight hours against the national guard of Paris, which insisted upon repairing to Versailles. One of his grenadiers had addressed him in these words : — ■"■ General, j-ou do not indeed deceive us, but you are yoiu'self deceived. Instead of turning our arms against women, let us go to Versailles in search of the king, and make sure of his inclinations l)y jjlacing him in the midst of us." Laiiiyette had resisted the entreaties of his armj' and the boisterous clamours of the multitude. His soldiers were attached to him by no illusion of victories won at their head, but by opinion ; and if that opinion were withdrawn from him, he could no longer control them. And yet, in spite of that difficulty, he had succeeded in staying them until the evening; but his voice could be heard only at a short distance, and l;oyond its compass the popular fuiy raged without a check. His life had been several times threatened, and still he continued to resist. However, he became aware that bands were continually issuing out of Paris, and as the insurrection was transporting itsolf to Versailles, his duty was to follow it thither. The commmie also ordered him to proceed to Versailles, and he accordingly departed. On the route he halted his army, and administered to it an oath of fidelity to the king : he did not reach Versailles until near mid- night. He informed Mounier, as president of tlie assembly, that the Paris army had vowed to perform its duty, and that nothing should be done contrary to the law. He then hastened to the palace, testified to its inmates every sentiment of respect and concern, communicated to the king the precautions that had been adopted, and gave him assm-ances of his own and his army's fidelity to his person. The king seemed relieved from his anxieties, and retired to rest. The g)iard of the palace had been refused to Lafayetfe ; only the outer posts were intrusted to him. The other posts were destined for the Flanders regiment, whose stanchness was not too sure, the Swiss, and the body-guards. These latter had originally received orders to retire, but had been afterwards recalled, and not having been able to effect a general junction, they nmstered but sparingly at their post. In the disorder that reigned, all the accessible points were not de- fended ; one of the iron gates even remained open. Lafayette caused the outer jrasts confided to his care to be occupied, and not one of them was forced, or indeed attacked. Notwithstanding the prevailing tumult, the as- sembly h;<.d resumed its sitting, and it juirsued a dis- cussion on tlie ]>('nal laws in an attitude of tranquil dignity. From time to time the people interrupted the del)ate Avith demands for bread. JMirabeau, irri- tiitcd at such unseemly conduct, exchiimed, in his steutorian voice, that the assembly would receive the law from no one, and Avcmld, if i)rov(>ked, order the galleries to Ik; cleared. The people responded to his api)eal with loud applause; but it was useless for the assembly to persist mucli longer. Lafayette, having sent a message to Mounier that all ai)peared to hiin ■in perfect tranquillity, and that he might safely dis- miss the members, the assembly broke up at an earlv hour in tiie morning, adjom-ni g until the following day at elevcL*. 64 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. The populace were scattered here and there through- out the town, and appeared sunk in slumber. Lafayette was justified in feeling confidence from the devoted- ness of his army, which in fact did not belie his ex- pectations, and by the profound calm which seemed to pervade the whole town. He had made the barrack of the body-guards secure, and distributed numerous patrols. He was still on horseback at five in the morning. Convinced that all danger had subsided, he swallowed a draught, and threw himself on a bed, to enjoy a short repose, for he had not been refreshed by sleep for four and twenty hours.* In this interval, the populace began to rouse them- selves, and already groups were wandering in the vicinity of the palace. Some ribaldry was exchanged with a body-guardsman, who discliarged his piece from a window : the brigands instantly sprang forward, * nistory can never be unduly amplified when justifying even individuals, especially in a revulutiun where the parts, even the most important, are extremely numerous. 51. dc Lafayette has been so calumniated, and his character is so imsulhed and con- sistent, that it is but sheer duty to consecrate a note to his vindi- cation, llis conduct during the 5th and (jth October was one unbroken act of self-devotion, and yet it has been represented as a criminal dereliction by those who owed tlieir lives to his exer- tions. In the first place, he has been upbraided with the violence of the national guard, which drew him in spite of himself to Ver- sailles. Nothing can be more unjust ; for if a leader, by undaunted firmness, can awe troops at whose head he has often conquered, citizens recently and voUmtarily enrolled, and whom a certain enthusiasm of opinion alone binds to their general, are not to be controlled when that very opinion stimulates them to resistance. M. de Lafayette struggled against them an entire day, and cer- tainly more could not be desired. Besides, his ultimate departiu'e was (if essential benefit, for without the national guard the palace had been taken by assault, and none can predicate what might have been the fate of the royal family when exposed to the unbridled license of the populace. As has been already stated, the body-guards were forced before the national grenadiers arrivetl. It is an inevitable deduction, that the presence of Lafayette and his troops at Versailles was indispensable. After heaping reproaches on him for going there at all, he has been assiduously attacked for going to sleep ; and this slumber has been the subject of the most malevolent and xmremitting taunts. Lafayette remained up till five o'clock in the morning, having employed the whole night in distributing patrols and establishing order and tranquillity ; and sufficient proof exists that his precautions were judiciously taken, in the conclusive fact, that not one of the posts intrusted to his guardianship was assailed. All appeared calm ; and he did what no one would have failed to do in his place — he threw himself on a bed to recruit the strength that was exhausted in an incessant contact with a tvmxultuary mob for twenty-four hours. His repose did not con- tinue above half an hour ; he was at the palace upon the first alann, and early enough to rescue tlie body-guards from the slaughter that threatened them. What, then, can be justly charged upon him ?— that he was not present at the first moment ? But that absence might have been equally caused by some other contingency : an order to give, ora post to visit, might have with- drawn him for lialf an hour from the point where the first attack was made ; and his appe;ir;mce simultaneously with the onslaught could by no possible chance be assured. But did he arrive in suf- ficient time to deliver almost all the victims— to save the palace and its august inmates? Did he generously encounter the greatest dangers? These things none have tlie hardihood to deny, and they procured him at the period itself universal benedictions. There was then only one sentiment amongst those he had saved. Madame de Stael, who cannot be suspected of partiality towards M. de Lafayette, relates that she heard the body-guards cry — " Long live Lafayette! " Slounier, whose testimony is likewise above suspicion, from his known tendencies, lauds his zeal ; and Lally-Tolendal regrets that a six;cies of dictatorship hauty Thouret, speedily annihilated such idle sophisms. The decree was about to pass that the possessions of the clergy belonged to the state, when its opponents once more raised the question of property. In reply it was main- tained, that, even granting the clergy to he proprietors, their possessions might be otherwise applied, since those possessions had frequently been used in cases of emergency for the good of the state. This fact tliey did npt attempt to deny. Availing himself of the admission, Mirabeau moved an amendment, that the word " beIo?iy" should be altered into " are at the disposition of (he state." The debate was immediately closed, and the decree passed by a great majority [Law of the 2d November]. The assembly thus destroyed the formidable power of the clergy, suppressed the obnoxious luxury of the dignitaries of tlie order, and took into its own keeping those innnense financial resources, which so long served to prop the revolution. At tlie same time it secured the subsistence of the parish priests, by enacting that their stipends should never beless than 1200 francs (£50 sterling),iu addition to the enjoyment of a parsonage and garden. It de- clared that religious vows were no longer to be recog- nised, and restored liberty to all monastic personages, giving leave, however, to those who wished it, to con- tinue the cloistered life ; and as their possessions were appropriated, it assigned payments in beu tliereof. With an advisable discrimination, it observed a dis- tinction between tl le wealthy and the mendicant orders, and proportioned the allowance to their respective members accoi'ding to their pristine statutes. It adopted the same course with regard to pensions ; and when the Jansenist, Camus, reverting to the bright example of evangelical simplicity, proposed to reduce all pensions to an identical and extremely meagre standard, the assembly, upon the motion of Mirabeau, reduced them in i)roportion to their actual amounts, and with a due regard to the former station of the pensioners. Considerate deference for usage and ac- customed habits could not be more signally displayed, and in that consists the true respect for property. In the same manner, when the Protestants, exiled after the revocation of the edict of Nantes, reclaimed their estates, the assembly restored to them those only which had not been sold. Cautious and fuU of consideration in its treatment of persons, it handled things with unscrupidous daring, and manifested a very ditferent spirit in constitutive matters. The prerogatives of the difi'erent branches of power had been fixed; and now arose tlie (iu(>stion as to the division of the kingdom. It had always been divided into provinces, which had been succes- sively united to the original France. These provinces, differing from each other in laws, privileges, and man- ners, formed a most heterogeneous compound. Sieyes conceived the idea of amalgamating them bj' a new suljdivision, which should annihilate the ancient de- marcations, and link all the parts of the kingdom imder one system of laws and public feeling. This result was accomplished by tlie partition into depart- ments. Tbe departments, again, were divided into districts, and th.e districts into municipalities. In all these territorial gradations, tlie jirinciple of represen- tation in governinent was estal)iished. The admi- nistration of the department, the district, and the borough, was each intrusted to a deliberative and to an executive council, both equally elective. These separate authorities Avere in dependence upon each other, and had analogous functions, proportioned to the extent of their jurisdictions. The department settled the contribution to the taxes for the districts, the district for tiie boroughs, and the borough for individuals.* * [" The provinces, whicli had viewed with regret the loss of their pi'lvileges, formed petty btatos, with too great an extent of 68 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. The assembly afterwards fixed the quahfication of a citizen enjoying political rights. It settled the age at twenty -five, and the contribution at a marc of silver. Each individual combining these advantages had the title of active citizen, and those who had them not were named passive citizens. These denominations were turned into ridicule, for names are eagerly snatched at when a desire exists to depreciate things ; but thev were simple, natural, and admirably expres- sive, the active citizen took part in the elections for the formation of the administrations and of the assembly. Tlie electicm of deputies had two processes. No condition of eligibility was required ; fur, as it had been inculcated in the assembly, a man was an elector by his existence in tlie society, and the only test of eligibility was naturally the confidence of the electors. These labours, although interrupted by numerous occasional discussious, were prosecuted with exemplary zeaL The right side contributed only to impede them by studied obstinacy, whenever an opportunity oc- curred of contesting any portion of influence proposed for the nation. The popular deputies, on the con- trary, tliough forming diiferent parties, joined or sepa- rated without repugnance, according to their individual sentiments. It was clear that with them conviction overruled compact. Thouret, Mirabeau, Duport, Sieyes, Camus, Chapelier, were seen alternately imiting and dividing, as their opinions tended on each ques- tion. As to tlie members of the nobility and clergy, they rarely appeared except on party debates. When the parliaments had passed resolutions against the as- sembly, when deputies or writers had insulted it, they exhibited great alacrity in upholding them. They supported the mUitary commanders in opposition to the people, the slave-dealers against the Negroes, and declared against the admission of Jews and Protes- tants to the enjoyment of civil rights. Finally, when territory, and too independent an administration. It was expe- dient to lessen their dimensions, change their names, and subject them to an identical government. On the 22d December, the assembly adopted the project on this head conceived by Sieyes, and presented by Thouret in the name of a committee, whicli bad been unceasingly occupied on the subject for two months. France was divided into eighty-three departments, nearly equal in extent and population ; each department was subdivided into districts, and each district into cantons. Tlicir administration was regulated after an unifomi and graduated system. Each de- partment had an administrative council composed of thirty-six members, and an executive directory composed of five ; as the titles indicate, the functions of the first were to decide and those of the liist to act. Each district was organised in the same man- ner, but upon a smaller basis ; it had a council and a directory, which were less in number, and subordinate to the departmental council and directory. Eacli canton, comprising five or six parishes, was an electoral and not an administrative division ; the active citizens (and to become one a contribution equivalent to three days' labour was requisite) assembled in the canton to nominate their deputies and magistrates. Every thing was subjected to the elec- tive principle in this new plan, but upon a certain scale. It was judged imprudent to intrust the multitude with tlie choice of delegates, and unlawful to deprive it of all concurrence therein, 80 tlie difficulty was obviated by a system of double election. The active citizens of the canton chose electors empowered to nomi- nate the members of the National Assembly, tlie administrators of the department, those of the district, and the judges of the tribimals. A criminal court was established for the whole de- partment, a civil court for each district, and a local peace-court for each canton. Such were the institutions of the department : the borough organisiition also required to be settled. The civic administration was intrusted to a council-general and a municipal body, com- posed of a varying number of members according to the popula- tion of the respective towns. The municipal officers were named immediately by the people, and they iilone were qualified to call Into action the armeTanny. They spoke of the antiquity and legitimacy of their rights to men who had sapped the foimdation of all rights." — Fcrriercs, vol. ii. p. 122. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. t)9 tending to dissolve them, it was unwilling to have discussions with them in the interim. The chambers of vacation administered justice during their recess. At Rouen, Nantes, and Rennes, these chambers passed resolutions, in which they deplored the ruin of the old monarchy, the violation of its laws, and, without naming the assembly, significantly alluded to it as the cause of all existing calamities. They were called to the bar, and reprimanded. That of Rennes, as most culpable, was declared incapable of performing its functions. That of Metz had insinuated that the king was not free, an allegation in conformity with the general policy of the malecontents, as has been pre- viously observed. Unable to use the king for their own purposes, they sought to represent him as labour- ing under an oppressive thraldom, desiring by such means to n\illify all the laws he apparently sanctioned. The king himself seemed to countenance this course of policy. He refrained from recalling his body-guards displaced on the 5tli and 6th October, and had himself guarded by the national militia, in tlie midst of which he knew himself in safety. His intention was to ap- pear as if held in captivity. The commune of Paris unmasked this petty device by a formal petition to recall his guards, which he declined under frivolous pretexts, by the mouth of tlie queen.* The year 1790, which had just commenced, was ushered in with a general agitation. Three months of comparative tranquillity had elapsed since the 5th and 6th October, but disquiet was again returning. Periods of great agitation are followed by an inter- val of repose, and then begin again trifling demon- strations, which grow into mighty conflicts. The troubles which now disturbed the kingdom were charged upon the clergy, the nobility, the court, and even England, which instructed its ambassador to justify it from the accusation. The paid companies of the national guard were themselves atfected by the prevailing spirit of disorder. Some soldiers collected in the Champs-Elysees, demanded an augmentation of their pay. Lafayette, ever on the alert, hastened to the mutineers, dispersed and punished them, and re- stored order amongst his troops, still faithful m spite of any slight interruptions of discipline. Public attention was especially occupied with an alleged plot against the assembly and the municipa- lity, the supposed leader of which was the Marquis de Fa-vTas. He was publicly apprehended, and lodged in the Chatelet. It was immediately rumoured abroad that Bailly and Lafayette were to have been assassi- nated ; that 1200 horsemen were in readiness at Ver- sailles to carry oti' the king ; and that an army of Swiss and Piedmontese was organised to receive him * This subject, of the body-guards being recalled, gave occasion to an anosdote which deserves to be recorded. The queen was com- plaining to M. de Lafayette that the king was not free, alleging as a proof of the fact that t)ie duty at tlie palace was perfomied by the national guard, and not by the king's body guards. Lafayette tUereupon asked her if the reinstatement of the latter would afl'ord her pleasure. The queen at first hesitated to reply, but could not with any grace refuse the offer made her by the general to procure the recall in question. He immediately repaired to the municipality, which, at his instigation, made an official rctpiest to the king for the recall of liis body-guards, ottering to share with them the service at the palace. The king and queen perceived nothing hurtful in this demand ; but they were soon made sen- sible of its consequences ; and those whose iiolicy it was that they should not seem free, persuaded them to refuse it. How- ever, it was a SDUiewhat dithcult task to assign reasons for tliis refusal, and the queen, to whom delicate commissions were often intrusted, was appointed to inform M. de Lafayette that the pro- position of the municipality would not bo accepted. The motive she alleged for this determination was, that they were unwilling to expose the guards to massacre. Itut Lafayette had a few moments before met oneof those very guards promenading at the Palais-Royal in full uniform. He communicated this striking fivct to the queen, who was thrown into considerable embarrass- ment, but nevertheless persisted in the resolution she «;is in- structed to convey. and march on Paris. Terror pervaded the metropolis, it being universally reported that Favras was a secret emissary of certain elevated personages. Suspicion fell upon Monsieur, the king's eldest brother. Favras had been in his guards, and had furthermore negoti- ated a loan for his behoof. Monsieur, alarmed at the general agitation, appeared at the town-hall, repelled the insinuations directed against him, explained his relations with Favras, reminded his hearers of his popular tendencies, as formerly manifested in the assembly of notables, and claimed to be judged, not by idle rumours, but by his known and unbelied patriotism.* Loud and general cheers followed his speech, and he was escorted to his residence by the assembled crowd. The trial of Favras was commenced. This person had travelled over all Europe, married a foreign prin- cess, and been engaged in devising schemes for the purpose of re-establishing his fortune. He had been busied with machinations on the 14th July, the .5th and 6th October, and in the last months of 1789. The witnesses who appeared against him gave the details of his last plan. The assassination of Bailly and Lafayette, and the removal of the king, appeared to form part of this plan ; but no proof was led tliat the 1200 horsemen were in readiness, nor that the Swiss and Piedmontese army was in motion. Circumstances were unpropitious for Favras. The Chatelet had just acquitted Besenval and other uidividuals imijlicated in the plot of the 14th July, whereat public opinion was sullen and discontented. Nevertheless, Lafayette encouraged the judges of the Chatelet, impressed upon them the duty of being just, and undertook that their judgment, whatever it might be, should be executed. This trial caused fresh suspicions to be entertained of the court. These new projects made it seem incor- rigible ; for, in the very middle of Paris, it was seen still conspiring. The king, in consequence, was advised to adopt a striking expedient to remove the public impression. On the 4th February 1790, the assembly was sur- prised to see some alterations in the arrangement of the hall. A carpet, embroidered with fleurs-de-lis, covered the steps of the platform. The seat of the secretaries was removed, and the president standing by the side of the chair in which he usually sat. " The king !" suddenly shouted the ushers, and Louis XVI. immediately entered the hall. The assembly arose on his appearance, and greeted him with loud applaiise. A crowd of spectators in eager haste filled the galleries, pressed into all parts of the hall, and awaited in breath- less anticipation the royal words. Louis XVI. deli- vered his speech standing, whilst the assembly was seated. He first cast a glance at the troubles to which France was a prey, the exertions that he had made to subdue them, and to facilitate the subsistence of the people ; he recapitulated the labours of the repre- sentatives, declaring that he had attempted the same measures in the provincial assemblies ; he maintained, in short, that he had always manifested the wishes * The speech of Monsieur at the towii-hall contains a passage too importjmt to be omitted: — " As to my personal opinions," said that august personage, " I will speak of them with confidence to my fellow-citizens. From the day on which I declared my sentiments, in the second iisseinbly of the notables, upon the fundamental question which divided all minds, I have never ceased to believe that a great revolution was inevitable; that the king, from his intentions, his virtues, and his supreme rank, wxs its natural chief, since it could not bo beneficial to the nation without being equally so to the monarch ; In fact, that the royal authority must always bo the safeguard of the national liberty, and national liberty the basis of royal autho lity. Let any one of my actions, or even of my phrases, bo cited, which belies these principles, or which shows that, in whatever circumstances I may have been placed, the happiness of the king, and that of the nation, have ever ceased to be the sole objects of my solicitude; until then, I have a riifht to bo believed on my word, that 1 have never changed my sentiments and principloo, and that I never will change them." V 70 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. that had been recently realised. He added, that he had thought himself speciiilly called upon to co;desce in the most signal manner with the representatives of the nation, at a moment when decrees were sub- mitted to him intended to establish an entirely new organisation in the kingdom. It was liis determina- tion, he said, to promote with all liis power the success of that vast organisation ; every contrary attempt would be criminal, and crushed by all 7ncans at his disposal. At those words, loud cheers resounded from all sides. The king proceeded ; recalling to mind his own sacrifices, he urged all those who had suffered any loss to imitate his resignation, and solace them- selves with the prospect of the benefits assured to France by the new constitution. And when, after hav- ing promised to defend that constitution, he added that he would do still more, and tliat, in concert with the queen, he would earh' train the heart and mind of his son to the new order of things, and accnstom-him to rest his happiness on that of all Frenchmen, cries of affec- tion broke from all quarters of the hall, all hands were stretched towards the monarch, all eyes sought the mother and the son, all voices demanded them — the transports of the audience were tunndtuous and un- bounded. The king concluded his si)eech by recom- mending concord and peace to " that goal people of whose love he is always reminded tchcn consolation is proffered him for his anxieties."* At these last words, * Tlie speecli delivered by the king upon tliis occ.ision is too renuirk.ible not to be quoted, with a few observations. That excellent and too unfortunate prince was for ever in a state of vacillation ; but at certain moments he discerned with great judgment his own duties and the errors of tjie court. The time which pervades his discourse of the 4th February sufiiciently proves that the words were not dictated, but that he e.Tpressed himself with a deep feeling of his actual position. " Gentlemen— Impelled by a sense of the serious situation of France at this moment, I am come amongst you. The gradual relaxation of all the bonds of order and subordination ; the sus- pension or inertness of the course of justice ; the discontents arising from private losses ; the oppositions and unfortunate ani- mosities, which are the imavoidable consequences of long dis- sensions; the critical situation of the finances, and the doubts respecting the national resources ; the general agitation— all con- spire to keep alive the anxiety of all real friends to the prosperity and happiness of the kingdom. A grand object lies before you ; but it must be attained without farther disturbances or new con\TiIsions. I may be allowed to say, that it was my firm hope to have led you to that great end in a milder and more tranquil manner, when I formed the design of assembling you, and of collecting together for the public good tlie talents and opinions of the representatives of the nation ; but my happiness and glory are not the less closely united with the suc- cess of jour Uibours. I have protected them, with unremitting vigilance, against the fat,al influence which the unhappy circumstances of tlie times might have over them. The liorrors of famine, which spread consternation over our countrj' last year, have been mitigated by constant care and immense supplies. The disorder that might have naturally ensued from the former state of the finances, the absence of credit, theexcessivescarcity of bullion, and tlie gradual decay of the revenue, has been, at least in all its nakedness and hideousness, as yet averted. I have every where, and especially in the capital, guarded against the dangerous consequences of t)ie want of work, and notwithstanding the relaxed state of all the springs of authority, I liave maintained the kingdom, not Indeed in the tranquillity I could have wished, but in a condition of reposi' sufficient to receive lasting benefits from a wise and well-ordered liberty; and, furthennore, notwithstanding our domestic situation, too generally known, and the pohtical storms that agitate other nations, I have not only preserved peace abroad but mamt;iined, witli all the powers of Kurope, those bonds of respect and friendship, which are the best guarantees of its sta- bility. Having thus secured you from obstacles which might so easily have obstructiHl your cares and your Labours, I think the moment IS arrived when the interest of the stiUc requires that I should join in a m.mner yet more decisive and m.anifest in the execution and issue of all that you have panned for the good of France. I cannot seize a more suitable occasion than when you present for my acceptance decrees designed to establish a new svstem of all present evinced the most lively sentiments of esteem and gratitude. The president made a short reply, in organisation in the kingdom, which must have so important and propitious an influence on the welfare of my subjects, and the prosperity of this great empire. You are aware, gentlemen, that more than ten years ago, and at a time when the wishes of tiie nation were not made known raspecting the provincial assemblies, I had begun to substi- tute this kind of aduiinistration for that which inmiemorial usage had consecrated. Experience having convinced me that I was not mistaken in the opinion I had formed of the utility of such establishments, I sought to extend the benefit of them through all the provinces of my kingdom ; and in order to ensure general confidence in the new modes of administration, I intended that the members of whom tliey were to be composed should be freely nominated by all the citizens. You have improved upon these views in several particulars, and the most essential is un- questionably that equal and well-designed subdivision, which by weakening the etl'ect of the ancient separations between province ■ind province, and establishing a general and complete system of equipoise, more perfectly imites all the parts of the kingdom in an uniform spirit and interest. This grand idea, this salutary contrivance, is entirely due to you ; but unanimity in the repre- sentatives of the ruition, and their just ascendancy over public opinion, are not the less necessary in order to undertake with confidence an alteration of such vital importance, and to over- come, by the power of reason, the resistance of habit and parti- cular interests." All that the king says here is perfectly just and well-considered. It is true that he had attempted all these ameliorations of his own motion, anil that he had given a rare example amongst princes — that of imticipating the wants of subjects. The eulogy he pronounces on the new territorial division also bears the cha- racter of entire good faitli, for it was certainly advantageous to the government, inasmuch as it destroyed the obstacles which local interests had often opposed to it. Every thing, therefore, induces us to believe that the king speaks on these subjects with perfect sincerity. He continues : ' • I will promote and accelerate, by all the means in my power, the success of this vast organisation, on which depends the safety of France ; and I think it necessary to declare, I am too much occupied with the internal situation of the kingdom, I have my eyes too open to the dangers of every kind that siu-round us, not to be fully impressed with the conviction that, in the present dis- position of the public mind, and on an attentive consideration of the state of public affairs, it is indispensable that a new order of things be established, calmly and deliberately, or the kingdom will be exposed to all the calamities of anarchy. Let true patriots reflect upon this matter as I have done, directing their minds solely to the good of the state, and they will perceive that, notwithstanding tlie different opinions that may prevail, they are urged by a high and commanding interest to cordially unite at this moment. Time will correct what may be found defective in the collection of laws framed by this assembly "' (this indirect have remained faithfid to the monarchy have always found in me a mos'; afl'octionate fellow-citizen, but rebellious Catholics a most implacable foe. My plan tended merely to form a party, and to give it, as far as in mo lay, extension and consist<^nce. The grand argument of revolutionists being force, I felt that the grand rejoinder was force: then, as at present, I was convinced of this great truth, that a strong passion cannot be st{1led except by one still stronger, and that religious zeal alone coittd choke republican frenzy. The miracles which zeal for religion li.is worked since that period, in La Vendee and Spain, prove that the philosophers and revolu- tionists of all grades would never have succeeded in establishing their anti-religious and anti-social system for so many years over the greater part of Europe, if the ministers of Louis XVI. had conceived such a project as mine, or if tlie councillors of the emi- grant princes had sincere!}' adopted and honestly supported it. But unhappily, the majority of the personages who directed Louis XVI. and the princes of his family, reasoned and acted only upon philosophical principles, though the philosojjhers and their disciples were the stimulators of the revolutionary agents. They thought they would have covered themselves with ridicule and dishonour if they had pronounced the single word " religion," if they had employed tlie powerful means it presents, and whieli the most profoimd politicians have uscil with success in all ages. Wliilst the National AssiMulily souglit to mislead the people, and to conciliate tliem by the suppn's>ion of feudal rights, tithes, tho salt tax, &c. &c., they thouglit to bring tlieni back to submission and loyalty by an exposure of the deficiencies in the new laws ; by a picture of the kingly griefs ; by iviitings above their compre- hension. By such means they imagined they would revive In the Iioarts of all Frenchmen a pure .and diMinteresfed love for their sovereign ; they believed that the elaraoiirs of nialecontents would impede the enteri)rises of the factious, and permit the king to murch straight to the object he wished to attain. The value of my counsels was estimated apparently by the weight of my station, and the opinions of the court magnates judged according to their titles and possessions." Monsieur Froment continues his relation, and subsequently characterises the parties which divided the fugitive court, after the following fashion (p;u?o .33) :— 74 HISTOHY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. Tlie clergy warmly approved this plan, and neglected no means of promoting it. The Protestants in those parts were viewed with repugnance hy the Catholics. The clergy took advantage of these prejudices, and especially at the solemnisation of Easter. At Mont- peUier, Nimes, Montauban, the slumbering fanaticism was awakened by all possible provocations. Charles Lameth complained in tlie tribune that the Easter festiv;il had been perverted into an occasion for misleading the people and exciting them against the new laws. At these words, the ecclesiastical mem- bers arose, apparently with the intention of quitting the assembly. The Bishop of Clermont threatened it ; and many of the clergy were on the point of leav- ing, when Lameth was called to order, and the tumult subsided. In the mean time the sale of the church pos- sessions was carried into execution, whereat the clergy were extremely wroth, and omitted no opportmiity of openly testifying their resentment. Dom Gerle, a Car- thusian, and sincere in his religious and patriotic sen- timents, claimed one day the ear of the assembly, and moved that the Catliolic religion he declared the sole religion of the state.* Several deputies immediately rose from their seats, and prepared to vote tlie pro- position by acclamation, exclaiming tliat now was the time for the assembly to justify itself from the re- proach that had been made against it of attacking the Catholic religion. But what was the meaning of such a proposition? Either the decree was designed to confer a monopoly on the Catholic religion, wliich none in particular ought ever to possess ; or it was " Such honourable testimonies, and the attention which was penerallj' shown me at Turin, would have made me forget the p;ist, and indulse in tlie most flattering anticipations of the future, if I had discerned great resources in the counsellors of the princes, and perfect concord amongst the most influential men in oiu- affairs ; but I beheld with grief the emigration divided into two parties, of which one wished to attempt tlie counter-revolu- tion by the aid of foreign powers alone, and the other by the royalists of the interior. The first party argued that, by ceding certain provinces to the powers, they would furnish the French princes witli armies suffi- ciently numerous to reduce the factious ; that with time, it would he easy to re conquer the dominions they should be forced to cede ; and that the coxu't, by not coming under any obligation to any of the bodies of the statf, would be free to dictate laws to all Frenchmen indiscriminately. The courtiers trembled lest the nobility of the provinces and the royalists of the third-estate should have the honour of replacing on its pedestal the crumbling monarchy. They felt they woultablishment of order, if they had been prudently directed and honestly supported. Such are the facts of which I myself have been an eye-witness, the truth of which I shall demonstrate one day by authentic statements and vouchers ; but tlie moment is not yet come. In a conference ■which was held at that period on the subject of tlie advantage to be drawn from the favourable dispositions of the inhabitants of Lyons and Franche-ComtiS, I stated explicitly the means that ouu'lit to be employed, at the Siime time, in order to assure the triumph of the roy.alists of Gevaudan, of tlie Cevcnnes, of Viva- rais, of the Comtat-Venaissin, of Languedoe, and of Provence, lluring the heat of debate, Field-marshal the Marquis d'Auti- chnmp, a great partisan of the pourrs, said to me : ' But will not the injiu-ed and the friends of victims scelc to rcTen^ge them- Beives?' 'Well, what of it?' said I, 'provided we attain our object !' ' See !' he exclaimed, ' how I have wrung from liim an avowal that particular vengeances would be wreaked!' More than astonislieil at suL'h an observation, I remarked to the M;ir- ♦Sitting of the I2th April. the promulgation of a fact, namely, that the majority in France were Catholics ; and this fact needed no express announcement. The motion, therefore, could not be entertained, and in spite of the exertions of the nobility and clergy, the debate was adjourned to the following day. An immense concourse flocked to the hall that morning, and Lafayette, apprised that the malignants were exerting themselves to provoke dis- turbance, doubled the guard. The debate commenced one ecclesiastic tlireatened the assembly with a male- diction ; Maury vociferated his accustomed denuncia- tions. Menou repelled with calmness all the reproaches levelled against the assembly, and demonstrated that it could not be reasonably charged with seeking to abolish the Catholic religion, at the very time it was engaged in assigning the expenses of its service as public burdens ; he therefore moved that the order of tlie day be proceeded with. Dom Gerle, convinced by his reasons, withdrew his motion, and apologised for having originated such a contest. M. de La- rochefoucauld brought forward a fresh motion, which was substituted for that of Menou. Suddenly a member on the riglit side complained they were not free, singled out Lafa3'ette, and demanded of him wherefore he had doubled the guard. The motive of his precaution was al)ove suspicion, for it was not the left side that had to fear the populace, nor was it his own friends that Lafaj^ette was solicitous to protect. This episode augmented the confusion ; however, the discussion was resumed. In its progress Louis XIV. was quoted as an authority, upon which Mirabeau quis de La Rouzi^re, my neighbour — ' I did not know that a civil war should be like a mission of monks!' It was thus by inspiring the princes witli fear, lest they should render themselves odious to their most inveterate enemies, that the courtiers Induced them to use only half measures— sufficient, doubtless, to stimulate the ze;il of the royalists in the interior, but very insufficient, after haiing compromised them, to guarantee tliem from tlie wrath of the factious. Since that time it has happened that, during the st.iy of the army of the princes in Champagne, M. de la Porte, aid-dc-camp to the Jlarquis d'Autichamp, having made a republican prisoner, imagined, accordmg to his general's hjijothesis, that ho should win him back to his duty by a pathetic oxliortation, and by restoring to him his arms and his liberty ; but scarcely had the republican walked a few paces than he stretched his captor dead on the ground. The Marquis d'Autichamp, then forgetting the moderation he had manifested at Turin, set tire to several villages, by way of avenging the death of his imprudent missionary. The second party argued that, inasmuch as the powers had several times taken up arms to humble the Bourbons, and espe- cially to prevent Louis XIV. from securing the crown of Spain to his gr.andson, so far from calling them to our assistance, it behoved us, on the contrary, to reanimate the zeal of the clergy, the loyalty of the nobility, and the love of the people for the king, attd to use all possible speed in stifling a family quarrel, by which foreigners might probably be tempted to profit. It is to this fatal division amongst the leaders of the emigration, and to the ignorance or perfidy of the ministers of Louis XVI., that the revolutionists owed their first successes. I will go much farther, and I assert tliat it was not the National Assembly which made the revolution, but, in truth, those around the king and the princes ; I assert that the ministers delivered up Louis XVI. to tiie enemies of royalty, as certain intriguers delivered up tho jirinces and Louis XVIII. to the enemies of Franco ; I assort that the majority of the courtiers who surrounded the kings, Louis XVI. and Louis XVIII., and the princes of their families, were and are charlatans, true political eunuchs ; that it is to their imbe- cility, cowardice, or treachery, that must be attributed all the evils which li.ave desolated France, and those wliicli still threaten the civilised world. If I bore an illustrious n;une, and I had been of the council of tlic Bourbons, I should not survive the reflec- tion tliat a horde of vile poltroons and brigands, not one of whom has shown either genius or superior talent of any kind, had suc- ceeded in overthrowing the throne, in establishing a sway over the most powerful states of Europe, in making the whole imiverse tromlilc ; and when this idea torments me, I bury myself in the obscurity of my existence, in order to place myself beyond the reach of censure, since it has rendered me powerless in arresting tlic progress of the revolution." HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 75 expressed himself in energetic terms. " I am not sur- prised," said he, " that we are reminded of the reign in which the edict of Nantes was revoked ; but know that, from this tribune in wliich I stand, I can perceive the fatal window whence a king, the assassin of his sub- jects, connecting the interests of this earth with those of religion, gave the signal of the St Bartholomew ! " This terrible reminiscence failed to terminate the dis- cussion, which accordingly proceeded. The motion of the Duke de Larochefoucauld was finally adopted. The assembly declared that its sentiments were well known, but that, from respect for liberty of conscience, it neither could nor ought to deliberate upon the pro- position submitted to it. A few days had scarcely elapsed before another plan for alarming and even dissolving the assembly was attempted. The new organisation of the kingdom was completed, and the people were about to be con- voked for the purpose of electing their magistrates, which was deemed an excellent opportunity for getting new deputies nominated at the same time, to replace those who formed the existing assembly. This mea- sure, once before proposed and discussed, had been already rejected. It was again brought forward in April 1790. Certain instructions limited the powers of deputies to one year, and as the assembly had been opened in May 1789, that period had very nearly ex- pired. Although the instructions had been abrogated, though a solenm engagement had been entered into not to separate before the completion of the constitu- tion, those men, in whose eyes no decree had been passed, no oath taken, when it suited the objects they aimed to accomplish, proposed to direct the election of other deputies, and give up their places to them. Maury, upon wliom tlic brimt of this debate was laid, performed his part with as much confidence as ever, and with more than usual address. He appealed to the sovereignty of the people, and warned the assem- bly that it could not long usurp the prerogatives cf the nation, nor indefinitely protract powers wliich were merely temporary. He asked by what title it had assumed sovereign attributes ; he maintained that the alleged distinction between the legislative and constituent character was perfectly chimerical ; that a sovereign convention can exist only in the absence of all other government; and that, if the assembly were such a convention, its only rational course was to dethrone the king, and declare the monarchy in suspension. Shouts of indignation interrupted him as he thus spoke, manifesting the general repugnance to such oi)inions. Mirabeau rose, with an air of dignified composure, to reply. " We are asked," said he, " when the deputies of the people became a national conven- tion. To this I answer, upon that day wlien, finding the portals of their hall barricaded by soldiers, they proceeded to the first place in which they could as- semble, to swear they would sooner perish than betray and abandon the rights of tlie nation. Our powers, whatever they might have been, were changed in their nature by that day. And whatever tlie powers may be that we have since exercised, our troubles, our labours, have legitimatised them ; the adhesion of the whole nation has sanctified them. You all remember the words of that great man of antiquity, who had neglected legal f(u-ms in saving his country. Sunnnoiied by a factious tribune to aver whether he had observed the laws, he exclaimed, ' I swear I have saved the republic!' Gentlemen," cried Mirabeau, turning to the deputies of the commons, " I swear you have saved France I" Upon this splendid adjuration, says Ferrieres, tlie entire assembly, as if irresistibly moved by some spon- taneous inspiration, declared the discussion at an end, and immediately decreed tliat the electoral bodies should not concern themselves with the choice of new deputies. Thus this new expedient was equally fruitless as others that had preceded it, and the assembly wiis enabled to continue its labours. But troubles were not the less rife throughout France. The commandant, De Voisin, was massacred by tlie people ; the forts of Marseilles were seized by the national guard. Move- ments of a contrary tendency took place at Nimes and Montauban. Emissaries from Turin had successfully appealed to bigotry ; they had distributed papers, in which the monarchy was proclaimed in danger, and the CathoUc religion claimed as the national creed. A royal proclamation had been vainly issued to dissipate illusions ; the emissaries had replied by fresh invo- cations. The Protestants had been driven to arms against the Cathohcs ; and the latter, disappointed in the succours promised them from Turin, had been ultimately subdued. Divers bodies of national guards had put themselves in motion to assist the patriots against the rebels. The battle was thus joined, and the Viscoiint de Mirabeau, the declared opponent of his Olustrious brother, annoimcing the commencement of civil war from the tribune, seemed, by his warmth, his gestures, and his words, as if he would have pro- voked it in the assembly itself It was in this manner that, whilst the most moderate of the deputies laboured to appease the revolutionary ardour, an indiscreet opposition irritated the fever, which quietude alone could have cahiied, and furnished topics for declamation to the most violent of the dema- gogues. The dubs were driven by the same cause into a more exaggerated tone. That of the Jacobins, the suc- cessor of the original Breton club, established first at Versailles and afterwards at Paris, rose above aU the others, from the number of its members, as also from the talent and the violence displayed in it.* Its sit- tings were as regular as those of the assembly. It anticipated all tlie questions which were to be dis- cussed by that body, and pronounced decisions which already operated as fetters upon the legislators them- selves. The principal popular deputies resorted thither, and the most phlegmatic found in its exciting atmo- sphere enei'gy and stimulus. Lafayette, as a counter- poise to this redoubtable intiuence, had concerted with Bailly and other enlightened men the formation of another club, called the Club of '89, and subsequently The Feuillants.^ But the attempt was unavailing ; a meeting of a hundred calm and well-informed men could not attract the niidtitude like the Jacobin Club, where all the fury of popular passions ran riot. Closing the clubs would have been the effectual course ; but the court was too deficient in frankness, and inspired too many doubts, for the popidar party to venture upon the adoption of such a plan. The Lameths reigned predominant at the Jacobin Club ; Mirabeau appeared indiflfercntly in both the one and the other ; his position was evidently between the two parties. An occasion soon presented itself in which his part became more decided, and in which he gained a memorable advantage for the monarchy, as we shall shortly have occasion to relate. CHAPTER V. STATE OF EUROPEAN POWERS — FIRST ISSUE OF ASSIG- NATS — FESTIVAI.OF THE FEDERATION — RESIGNATION' OF NECKER CIVIL OATH IMPOSED UPON THE CLERGY. At the period wo have now reached, the French revolution began to attract the serious attention of ftjreign monarclis ; its tone was so elevated and firm, and its predominant features of such luiiversal appli- cability, that foreign lu'inces were naturally in great alarm. Tliey had hitherto imagined it a mere pass- ing agitation ; but tlie success of the assembly, its * Tliiscliil), styled that of " The FrinKh qflhn Cimftitution," vraa triinsforrcil to Paris in October l?'!".', and was then known under (lie name of the Jacobin Huh, because it met in a hall of th« .lacohin convent in the 8tr(>et St Honors. t Instituted on tlic li'th Miij-. 76 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. unexpected firmness and constancy, and, aliove all, the future results that it proposed to itself, and indeed to all nations, drew upon it of necessity a greater degree of observation and abhorrence, and gained for it the honour of setting every cabinet activelj"^ on the watch. Europe was then divided into two great antagonistic leagues; the Anglo- Prussian ou one side, and the imperial courts on the other. Frederick-William had succeeded the great Fre- derick on the throne of Prussia. That fickle and weak prince, renouncing the policy of his illustrious predecessor, had abandt)ned the alliance of France for that of England. In close union witli that power, he had concluded the famous Anglo-Prussian league, wluch attempted so many grand schemes and executed none ; which roused Sweden, Poland, Turkey, against Russia and Austria ; abandoned all those whom it had excited to arms, and contributed even to despoil them, as in the partition of Poland. The project of England and Pniss'a united had been to weaken Russia and Austria, by instigating against them Sweden, over which the chiv^alric Gus- tavus reigned — Poland, groaning mider its first par- tition, and Turkey, exasperated at Russian encroach- ments. England's principal view in this league was to avenge herself for the aid fiirnislied her American colonies by France, without a formal declaration of war against the latter. It had found means to effect this object by provoking war between the Turks and the Russians.* France could not remain neuter be- tween these two nations without a rupture with the Turks, who relied upon its assistance, and without likewise losing its commercial supremacy in the Le- vant. On the other hand, by taking part in the war, it lost the alliance of Russia, with which it had just concluded a highly advantageous treaty, which secured it timber and all the materials the north furnishes so abundantly for naval purposes. Thus in both alternatives France suffered loss. In the mean time, England got ready its forces, and disposed them for active participation when the occasion suited. But, percei\ing the disordered state of the finances under the notables, and the popular excesses under the Constituent Assembly, it thought there was no need for actual war, and, according to general belief, it preferred prostrating France by fomenting internal troubles rather than by an open appeal to arms. Thus England was always accused of encouraging discord in France. This Anglo-Prussian league had succeeded in get- ting battles fought, without producing any decisive results. Gustavus had extricated himself like a gene- ral from a predicament into which he had plunged like a knight-errant. Holland, in rebellion, had been subdued to the stadtholder by English intrigues and Prussian arms. Wary England had thus deprived France of a powerful maritime alliance ; and the Prussian monarch, who merely sought the gratifica- tion of vanity, had revenged an outrage perpetrated by the states of Holland on the wife of the stadtholder, who was his own sister. Poland had taken consis- tence in its government, and was preparing for war. Turkey had been beaten by Russia. However, the death of Joseph II., the Emperor of Austria, in January 1790, changed the aspect of atlairs. Leopold, an en- lightened and pacific prince, on whose mild dominion Tuscany had heaped benedictions, succeeded him. Leopold, equally skilful and sagacious, wishing to put an end to the war, employed as the readiest means of success, with an imagination so unsteady as Frederick- William's, arguments of seduction. To that prince were described in moving terms the sweets of peace, the evils of war, so long pressing on his people, and the dangers of the French revolution, which pro- * [This is scarcely a credible statement. 51. Thiers has over- lookc'l the fact, tliat Catherine II. 's ambition needed no prompt- ing to have swallowed the whole Turkibh empire if she could have got it-] claimed such disastrous principles. Ideas of absolute power were awakened in his breast, and the hope was even suggested to him of chastising the French revo- lutionists as he had already done those of Holland. He allowed himself to be gained over by such specious reasons, at the very time he was about to reap the advantages of that league which his minister Hertz- berg had so boldly conceived and formed. The peace was signed at Reichenbacli in July 1790. In August, Russia made peace with Gustavus, and got rid of all her enemies but Poland, which excited little alarm, and Turkey, which had been repulsed on all sides. We will allude to these events more particularly here- after. The attention of the powers, therefore, was ultimately almost entirely concentrated upon France and its revolution. Some time before the conclusion of the peace between Prussia and Austria, whUst the Anglo-Prussian league threatened the two imperial courts, and secretly attacked France, and also Spain, the constant and natural ally of France, certain Eng lish ships had been seized in Nootka Somid by the Spaniards. Energetic remonstrances were made, ac- companied by a general arming in the English ports. Spain immecliateiy demanded the assistance of France, upon the strength of existing treaties, and Louis XVI. ordered the equipment of fifteen ships of war. On this occasion, England was accused of attempting to augment the embarrassments under which France laboured. It is true the clubs of London had several times complimented the National Assembly ; but it was said the cabinet might permit a few philantliropists to express their amiable sympathies, and yet at the same time subsidise those astounding agitators, who appeared m every quarter, and gave such incessant occupation to the national guards tliroughout the kingdom. The internal troubles became still greatei at the time of the general arming, and it was impos- sible to avoid perceiving a connexion between the threats of England and the renewal of disorder. Lafayette even, who rarely spoke in the assembly except upon occasions relative to the public tran- quillity, denomiced at tlie tribune a secret sinister influence. " I cannot help calUng the attention of the assembly," said he, " to a fresh and simultaneous fer- mentation, exhibited from Strasburg to Nimes, and from Brest to Toulon, and which the enemies of the people would vainly fasten on them, when it bears all the characteristics of a secret influence. The question aflecting the estabhshment of departments is mooted, and the country is devastated ; neighbouring powers arm themselves, and disorders instantly break out in our arsenals." Several conunanders, in fact, had been murdered, and by chance or design, the best marine officers had been sacrificed. The English ambassador was ordered by his court to repel these imputations. But it is well known what degree of credit such assurances deserve. Cidoime likewise wrote to the king in justification of England; but Calonne, vouching for foreigners, was himself sus- pected. He vainly lu-ged that every item of expen- diture is known in a representative government ; that even secret expenses are stated as such ; and that in the English budgets there was no appropriation of that description. Experience has proved that fundfl are never wanting even to responsible ministers. What may be more satisfactorily alleged is, that time, the tmfolder of all mysteries, has discovered notliing upon this subject, and that Necker, who was in a situation to form a correct opinion, never believed in this secret influence.* The king, according to the fact that has been nar- rated, informed the assembly by message of the equip- ment of fifteen sail of the line, not doubting, as he said, that it would heartily ai)i)rove the measiu-e and vote the necessary sui)plies. The assembly received the notification most favourably, but it perceived a * See what Madame dc Staei says in her Rr/lectiont upon Vu French licvuludon. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 77 constitutional question involverl in the proceeding:, which it judged expedient to solve before replying to the king. " The preparations are completed," said Alexander Lameth, " and our dehberations cannot retard them. We ought, however, to decide at once whether to the king or to the assembly tlie right of making peace and war should be delegated." This was in fact almost the last important attribute that remained to be fixed, and precisely one calculated to excite the most lively interest. The public mind was too fully impressed with the faidts of courts, with their alternations of ambition and weakness, and hence greatly indisjiosed to leave the throne in possession of power to involve the nation in dangerous wars, or to dishonour it by shameful treaties. At the same time, of all the fmictions of government, the superin- tendence over war and peace is the one in which its action is the most appropriate, and in which the exe- cutive power ought to exercise the most influence; that, in fact, in respect of which the greatest extent of discretion shovdd be left it, in order that it may act advantageously and with perfect good will. The opinion of Mirabeau, Avho was said to be gained by the court, was proclaimed previous to the discussion upon this important question. The occasion was deemed favom*- able for damaging the orator in that eminent popu- larity he enjoyed, and which so chagrined his rivals. The Lameths were not backward in seizing upon it, and they arranged that Barnave should lead the attack upon Mirabeau. The right side stood aloof, so to speak, and left the field of battle free to those com- batants. The debate was impatiently expected : it was at length begun.* After certaiji sjieeches had been deli- vered which scarcely touched the question, I\Iirabeau was heard, and argued it in a perfectly novel manner. War, accortling to him, is almost always an miforesecn catastrophe ; hostilities are commenced before threats are given ; the king, as chai-ged with the public safety, must repel them ; and thus war ensues before the assembly could possibly interfere. It is the same with treaties : the king alone can seize the critical moment for negotiating either in a friendly or a hostile spirit with foreign powers ; it was the province of the as- sembly merely to ratify the conditions obtained. In both instances, the king alone can act, and the assem- bly approve or censure. Mirabeau, therefore, main- tained that the executive power should be authorised to carry on effectively hostilities when once commenced, and that the legislative power, according to tlie cir- cumstances of each case, should sanction the continu- ance of the war, or insist upon peace. This opinion was applauded, because the words of JVIirabeau always were. Barnave afterwards entered the tril^une, and passing aside the other speakers, applied himself to answer Mirabeau alone. He allowed that collisions often occurred before the nation could be consulted, but he denied that hostilities necessarily involved war, argxiing tliat the king ought to repel them and imme- diately communicate with the assembly, which woidd then declare, as the sovereign authority, its definitive resolution. Thus the wliole difference was little more than verbal ; for Mirabeau granted to the assembly the right of disapproving a war anonent w:us upbraided with liaving sold himself. A pamphlet, entitled. The (jrand Treason of the Count de Miraliean, was hawked through all the streets by deep-mouthed itinerants. A critical moment for Miralieau had ar- rived, and every one anticipated a mighty effort on the part of so unyielding a chami)ion. He demanded * Sittings from tlic 14t)i to the 22<1 May. leave to reply, obtained it, mounted the tribune in presence of an immense multitude gathered to hear him, and as he moimtcd declared he would descend only dead or victorious. " I likewise," said he, in commencement, " have been borne in triumph, and yet this day the streets resound with shouts of the ' grand treason of the Count de Mirabeau !' I did not need this example to be aware, that there is but a step from the Capitol to the Tarpaian Rock. But such revulsions shall not arrest me in my career." After this effective opening, he declared that it was his intention to answer Barnave only, and from the beginning to the end. " Explain yourself," said he, addressing that deputy ; " you have in your speech maintained that the king should be compelled to notify the commencement of hostilities, and that to the assembly alone belongs the right of expressing the national wiU upon the point. To this I fix you, and ask if you have forgotten those principles of ours, by which the expression of the national will is left con- jointly to the assembly and the king. In attributing it to the assembly alone, you have outraged the con- stitution. I call you, thei-efore, to order. You make no answer. I go on then." Barnave could in fact allege nothing in reply to such a thrust. He remained during a long oration exposed to similar overpowering bursts of eloqiience. Slira- beau dissected and triumphantly refuted his argu- ments point by point, and moreover demonstrated that he gave nothing more to the assembly than he himself had given ; but tliat, by reducing the king to a simple notification, he had taken from him that concurrence declared necessary to the expression of the national will. He concluded by reproaching Bar- nave for stimulating idle rivalries between men who ought, as he said, to live hke faithfid companions in arms. In the course of his speech, Barnave had enu- merated the supporters of his opinion, and Mirabeau, in his turn, mentioned those who thought with him. In the list he pointed especially to those moderate men, the first champions of the constitution, who sustained the cause of liberty for France, when his vile calunmia- tors were picking up the crumbs of courts (he alluded to the Lameths, who had received favours from the queen) ; " such men," he added, " as will be honom-ed, even to the tomb, both by friends and foes." Mirabeau descended from the tribune amid unani- mous applause. The assembly contained a consider- able number of deputies, belonging neither to the right nor to the left, but who, not having formed predeter- minate opinions, decided upon the impressions of the moment. It was through them that genius and rea- son prevailed, because they turned the scale by join- ing either side. Barnave desired to answer, which the assembly opposed ; and calls for a division became general. The decree of Mirabeau, as abh^ amended by Chapelier, had the priority, and was finally adopted on the 22d May, to the jiublic satisfaction ; for, after all, these rivalries scarcely extended beyond the circle in which they were engendered, and the great popular I)arty deemed itself as victorious with Mirabeau as with the Lameths. The decree conferred upon the king and the nation the right of making peace and war. The king was intrusted with the disposition of the force ; he was to notify tlie commencement of liostilities, to convoke the asspiiilily if not in session, and to ])ropose the decree for wai ar i)eace ; the assembly was to delibe- rate upon his express proposition, and the king to afterwards exercise his sanction upon its tleeisioii. It was (..'haiielier, who, by a most reasonal)le amend- iiieiit, had required tlie express proposition, and the definitive sanction. As it passed, this decree, so con- formable to sound sense and the jjrincijiles already estaijlished, excited sincere joy amongst the constitu- tionalists, and absurd hopes amongst the counter- n'volutionists, who imagined that the public mind was «u th(> move to reaction, and that this victory of 78 HISTORY OF THE FRENX'H REVOLUTION. Mirabeau would result in theirs. Lafayette, who upon this occasion was in imison with ^lirabeau, wrote of it to BoiiilU'", gave him hopes of tranquillity and moderation, and strove, as was his invariable custom, to gain his cordial acquiescence in the new order of things. The assembly still continued its financial laboiirs. These consisted in making the best possible disposi- tion of the church estates, the sale of which, long ago decreed, was not to be averted by protests, by episco- pal charges, or by intrigues. To despoil a too potent body of large tracts of land ; to distribute tliem to the best advantage, so as to improve their fertility by the division; by this process to constitute proprietors numberless individuals who were not so ; and by the same operation to extinguish the debts of the state, and re-establish order in the finances — such were the objects of the assembly, and it was too deeply im- pressed with their utility to recoil before any opposing obstiU'les. The assemi>ly liad already ordered the sale of crown and church lands to the value of four hundred millions, but it was highly expedient to find means for selling those estates, without depreciating them by ofl'ering them for simultaneous disposal. Bailly proposed, in the name of tlie Paris municipa- lity, a well-digested project, namely, to transfer those possessions to the nnmicipalities, who should purchase them in a mass, in order to sell them out again in parcels, so that they should not be exposed to compe- tition all at ouce. As the municipalities were without funds to pay immediately, he proposed they should form engagements for stipulated periods, and pay the national creditors with notes ot the communes, which they should be enjoined to retire by instidments. Those notes, wliich were called in the discussion municipal paper, suggested the first idea of a.ssigitats. By following Bailly's plan, the ecclesiastical possessions were definitively appropriated ; that is, their owmers being displaced, they were liivided amongst the muni- cipalities, and the creditors brought more nearly in contact with their hypothec, by acquiring claims upon the municipalities, instead of those they held upon the state. The security Avas therefore increased, inas- much as the payment Avas made more immediate ; and the exaction of that payment, moreover, depended upon the creditors themselves, since with these notes or assignats they might purchase a proportionate amount of the estates exposed to sale. Thus a vast advantage was conferred upon them, nor was it the only or last one. It seemed possil)le they might not be disposed to convert their notes into lands, from scrupulous or other motives ; and in that case, those notes, which they would be obliged to keep, as they were not allowed to circulate as currency, would become in their h.ands nothing more than simple undis- charged claims. But one farther step, therefore, remained to be taken, which was to give those notes or claims the facidty of circulation, which converted them at once into an actu;d currency, and the state creditors, being enabled to transfer them in acquit- tances, would be in truth reimbursed. Another material consideration j)ut the policy of the measure beyond doubt. Specie was excessively scarce, and its disappearance was attributed to the emigration, which bore away with it large amounts of coin ; to pa\nnents wliich were necessarily made to foreigners ; and finally to malignancy. Tlu; true cause was want of confi- dence, induced by the prevailing troubles. A profu- sion of sjxjcie is rendered api)arent by circulation ; for when confidence is unshaken, the activity of com- mercial exchange is pushed to its extreme Uniits ; the meihum of tiiat commerce, the precious metals, passes with rapidity from hand to hand, is seen abundantly every where, and is believed to be considerably greater in amount than it actually is, because it is used to more purpose ; but when political troubles fill the land with alarm, trade languishes, capital lies dormant, and money passes slowly and rarely, or is often per- haps buried, and the most \mfoimded accusations are made by popidar prejudice as to the causes of its absence. The desire of providing a substitute for the precious metals, which the assembly deemed exhausted, and of giving the creditors something more than a security to lie dead on their hands, besides the necessity that existed of meeting a vast variety of importunate Avants, led to these notes or assignats being invested with a species of forced circulation, with the character of a legal tender. The pulilic creditor was thereby paid, because he coidd insist upon the paper he had re- ceived being taken in return, and thus provide for all his engagements. If he had not thought fit to buy lands, tiiose who had received the circulating paper from him would be ultimately driven to become pur- chasers. The assignats which came back in this way were destined to be burnt, and by this operation the church lands must necessarily soon be distributed and the paper money suppressed. The assignats bore an interest at so much jier day, and increased in value by lying in the hands of capitalists. The clergy, Avho were not slow to perceive that this project furnished a means of accomplishing the alienation of their possessions, opposed it with ail their might. Their noble and other allies, ever ini- mical to any measure that facilitated the progress of the reA'olution, likewise opposed it, and expatiated on the evils of paper money. The name of Law was of course loudly resounded, and the recollection of his famous bankruptcy brought prominently forward. But the comparison was quite misplaced, because Law's paper was based merely on acquisitions of the India Company in expectancy, AvhUst the assignats rested on a territorial capital, at once substantial and easily available. Law had promulgated, in confederacy with the court, infamous exaggerations, and had prodigi- ously exceeded the actual capital of the company ; the assembly, on the contrary, had no reason to surmise that any such spoliation could ensue from the new arrangements it had sanctioned. Besides, the amount of paper issues represented only a small portion of the capital which was pledged for them. But it was nevertheless true that paper, however safe it may be, is not, like bullion, a reahty, or, according to Bailly's expression, a physical materiality. Specie carries with it an intrinsic vidue ; paper, on the contrary, still needs an operation, an investment, a realisation. It must therefore bear a depreciation as compared with specie, anil so soon as it is thus depreciated, the pre- cious metals, which no one wdl exchange for paper, are concealed, and finally disappear altogether. If, in addition to this inhei'ent CA-il, disorders in the admi- nistration of the estates, and immoderate emissions of paper, destroy the proportion between the circulating notes and the capitiil hypotliecated, confidence is annihilated ; the nominal value is preserved, but the real value exists no more ; and he who pays away such a conventional currency robs him who receives it, and a deplorable crisis inevitably occurs. AH this Avas possible, and Avith somewhat more experience Avould have appeared certain. As a financial measure, therefore, the issue of assignats was very blameable, but as a political measure it Avas indispensable, because it provided for pressing emergencies, and divided the property Avithout having recourse to an agrarian law. \\'ith such inducements the assembly could not hesi- tate ; and, in spite of Maury and his party, it decreed four hmidred millions of forced assignats, with in- terest (April). Necker had long ago lost the confidence of Louis XVI., the pristine deference of his colleagues, and the affection of the nation. Wrapped up in his ciUcula- tions, he sometimes maint;uned disputations with the assembly. His reserve concerning extraordinary expenses had provoked a demand for the Red Book, a famous register, in which was recorded, as alleged, the list of all secret expenses. The king consented reluc- HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 79 tantly to its production, and sealed iip the leaves -which contained the expenditure of his predecessor, Louis XV. The assembly respected his delicacy, and coniined its scrutiny to the expenses of the existing reign. No items personal to the king were found in it ; the pro- digality was all owing to courtiers. The Lameths were mentioned for a largess of 60,000 francs, disbursed by the queen for their education. They immediately carried the sum to the public treasmy. The pensions were reduced with a twofold reference to services and former station. The assembly, in every instance, evinced exemplary moderation ; it solicited the king to fix his civil list himself, and then voted by accla- mation the twenty-five millions he asked. This National Assembly, strong and confident in its numbers, its talents, its sway, and its determination, had undertaken the task of regenerating all depart- ments of the state, and in execution thereof, had recently framed a new judicial organisation. It had distributed the tribunals in the same manner as the administrations, by districts and departments. The judges were left for popular election. This last pro- vision had been vehemently opposed. Political meta- physics had been again employed to prove that the judicial power emanated from the executive power, and that the king ought to nominate the judges. Good reasons had been alleged on both sides of the ques- tion, but the material one for the assembly should have been, since it was desirous of constituting a monarchy, that royalty, thus successively denuded of all its attri- butes, would sink into a simjile magistracy, and the state resolve into a republic. But it was too liazardous an experiment to define explicitly what functions were inherent in monarchy ; it would have involved con- cessions which a nation invariably refuses in the first moments of its enthusiasm for liberty. The fate of nations is ever to insist upon too nrach or upon nothing. The assembly was sincerely attached to the king, entertaining for him a profound deference, and mani- festing that sjiirit in repeated instances ; but Avhilst it was cherishing the person, it seemed unsuspicious that it was destroying the thing. After this uniformity had been introduced into the civU and judicial administrations, the service of reli- gion remained to be regulated and constituted in har- mony with all others. Accordingly, when a siiperin- tending administrative council and a tribunal of appeal were established in each department, it was natural to assign a bishopric for it likewise. How, in fact, could it be sanctioned, that certain dioceses shoidd embrace fifteen lumdred square leagues, Avhen others stretched over scarcely twenty ? that certain parishes should be ten leagues in circumference, and others contain but a score of hearths? that numerous incum- bents should possess at the most seven lumdred livres a-year, whilst, not far froni them, were benefices yield- ing from ten to fifteen tliousand livres ? The assembly, whilst reforming abuses, did not encroach upon eccle- siastical doctrines, nor upon the papal authority, because territorial limitations had always belonged to the temporal power. It contemplated, therefore, a new division, and also to subject, as in early times, the incumbents and the bisliojjs to popular election ; nor in this last intention did it interfere with aught but the temporal power, since the ecclesiastical digni- taries were always chosen bj' the king, and confirmed by the pope. This measure, which was called " The civil constitution of the clcrgi/," and which brouglit upon the assembly a greater load of calunmy than all it had done besides, was nevertheless the ofi'spring of the most religious mendiers. It was (.'ainus and otlier Jansenists, who, wishing to strengthen religion in the kingdom, endeavoured to bring it into harmony with the new institutions. Certainly, when tlie sjnrit of justice was infused every where, it would have been very strange that the ecclesiastical administration alone should remain witliout its influence. But for < amus and some others, the members of the assembly, reared in the school of the philosophers, would have regarded Christianity as any other creed admitted in tlie state, and paid no attention to it. They yielded to sentiments, which, in modern society, it is custo- mary not to combat, even when not participated in. They therefore supjiorted the religious and sincerely Christian project of Camus. The clergy denounced it, alleging that it encroached upon the spiritual authority of the pope, and a])pealed to Rome. Tiie principal articles of the project, however, were finally adopted,* and presented to the king, mIio demanded time to refer them to the holy see. The king, whose enlightened piety allowed him to acknowledge the justice of this measure, wrote to the pope, in the ear- nest hope of gaining his consent, and thus removing all the objections of the clergy. We shall soon see to what intrigues the failm-e of his beneficent views is to be attributed. The month of July drew near : shortly, a year woidd have passed since the capture of the Bastille, since the nation had seized upon power, pnmomiced its fiats by the agency of the assembly, and of itself put them into execution, or secured that execution under its own superintendence. The 14th July was consi- dered as the day which had commenced a new era, and it was resolved to celebrate its anniversary by a great festival. The provinces and the towns had already ofiered an example of confederating, the better to resist ly miion the enemies of the revolution. The numicipality of Paris proposed for the 14th July a general federation of all France, which should be cele- brated in the midst of the capital, by deputations from all the national guards and all the detachments of the army. This proposal was hailed with enthusiasm, and immense preparations were made to render the festival worthy of its object. Foreign nations, as we have already seen, had long directed their eyes upon France ; the sovereigns hated and feared the revolution, their people looked upon it with favour. Some enthusiastic foreigners presented themselves to the assembly, each in the costume of his nation. Their orator, Anacharsis Clootz, a Prussian by birth, a man of wild imagination, asked permission, in the name of the human race, to take part in the federation. Sucli occurrences, apparently so ridicu- lous to those who have not witnessed them, are cal- culated deeply to move those who are exposed to their immediate impression. The assembly granted the request, and the president informed these strangers that they woidd be admitted, in order that they miglit recount to their countrymen what they had seen, and convey to them a just appreciation of the happiness and the blessings attendant upon liberty. The emotion caused by this scene led to another An equestrian statue of Louis XIV. represented that monarch trampling upon the figures of certain con- quered provinces. " We ought not to suller such monuments of slavery in da^'s of liberty," said one of the Lameths. " It is not fitting that the deinities from Franche-Comtc, Miien they arrive at Paris, should behold an emblem of tlicir native i)rovince thus en- chained." Maury opposed a measure which, although of little importance, it was expedient to grant to the pulilic enthusiasm. An instant afterwards, a voice ])rop()sed the alx)lition of titles, such as count, mar- (|uis, baron, &c. ; the prohil)ition of liveries; and finally, the suppression of all hereditary titles. Yoimg Montmorenci supported the motit)n. A noble deputy inquired what was intended to be substituted for the words, " Such an one was made a count for having served the state." " We will sim])ly exi)ress," said Lafayette, "that such an one on such a da}' saved the state." The decree was adopted (19th June), notwithstanding the extravagant irritation of the nobles, who felt the loss of their titles more acutely than all the more substantial sacrifices they had been * Dcciw of tlio 12th JiJy. 80 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. compelled to make durinjj the whole course of the j revolution. The more moderate portiou of the assem- hlj' would have been better pleased if, in abolishing titles, Ubcrty had been left to those who might desire it still to retain them. Laftiyette hastened to ap- prise the court of this tendency before the decree was sanctioned, and urged it to remit it to the assembly, which would make no difficulty in amending it. But the king somewhat eagerly affixed his sanction, and it was thought that such precipitancy demonstrated a malevolent intention to drive things to the worst.* The object of the federation was to administer the civic oath. It was canvassed whether the federalists and the assembly should take it upon the hand of the king, or whether the king, in his character of first public functionary, should swear with all the others upon the altar of the country. The last mode was preferred. The assembly thus placed etiquette itself in harmony with the spirit of its laws, and the king ranked in the ceremony precisely as he stood in the constitution. The court, to which Lafayette was an object of perpetual suspicion, took alarm at a report then prevalent, according to which he was to be named commander of all the national guards of the kingdom. This suspicion was but natural, perhaps, in those who were not acquainted with Lafayette, and his enemies of all grades did their utmost to foster it. It was difficult, in fact, to he convinced that a man enjoying such boundless popidarity, and at the head of so considerable a force, would not abuse the means at his disposal. And j^et he had no desire to do so ; he was resolved to be nothing but a citizen ; and whether his moderation was the result of virtue or well-understood ambition, the merit is the same. The pride inseparable from human weakness will always have developement in some shape, and virtue consists in bending it to good. Lafayette, anticipating the apprehensions of the coiirt, brought forward a motion that the same individual should not be competent to command the guard of more than one department. The resolution was passed with acclamations, and the self-denial of the general rewarded with heartfelt ap- probation. However, he was intrusted ^vith all the arrangements for the festival, and named chief of the federation, in his character of commander of the Parisian guard. The day approached, and the preparations were made with the greatest activity. The festival was appointed to lie held in the Field of Mars, a vast space stretching between the Military Academy and the course of the Seine. The plan decided upon was to carry the earth from the midflle of the field to the sides, so as to form an amphitheatre capable of hold- ing the mass of spectators. Twelve thousand work- men laboured thereat without intermission, but fears began to be entertained that the work woidd not be accomplished by the 14th. The inhabitants there- upon determined to assist the workmen. In an instant the whole population was transformed into a body of labourers : priests, soldiers, men of all classes, assumed the shovel and the spade ; even females in elegant apparel contributed their aid. The impulse soon be- came universal ; the people proceeded to the works in sections, carrying banners of different colours, and cheered by the sounds of music. When they reached * [M. Bertranfl <3e Jloleville seems to avow some such inten- tion. " The king," saj's he, "fearing to weaken the manifest nullity of the sanction which he had been foreed to give to all the decrees passed since the outniges of tlie 5th and 6th October, sanctioned also, on the 2jjth June, the decrees of the Utth , notwith- standing the entreaties of .M. Necker, whowLslicd the king not to assent to the decree degrading the nubility till he had ofiercd his observations to the National Assembly. The coimoil did not approve of that step, and were of opinion that tlie sanction should be pure aid unqualified. M. Necker did not the less persist in his opinion, and made a displ.iy of his opposition to his colleagues by a memorial which he published with the king's consent" — Annals, vol. ii. p. 476.] the field, they mingled promiscuoush', and laboured in common. At nightfall, iipon a given signal, each rejoined his section, and returned in procession to his own quarter. This pleasing union continued tmtil the work was finished. During its progress, the federalists were continually arriving, and were re- ceived with the liveliest enthusiasm and the most engaging hospitality. A sincere joy, a general rapture prevailed, despite the sinister rumours which that small mmoritj', who were inaccessible to such emo- tions, endeavoured to propagate. It was said that the brigands woidd seize the opportunity of the federation to pillage the town. The Duke of Orleans, also, who had just returned from London, was alleged to have some direful projects in contemplation. But the national gaiety was not to be distui'bed, and all these malignant forebodings were disregarded. The 14th at length arrived. All the federalist deputies from the provinces and the army, ranged under their banners, started from the site of the Bastille, and proceeded to the Tuileries. The depu- ties from Beam, when passing along the street of the Ferronncrie, in which Henry IV. was assassinated, rendered a tribute of reverence for his memory, expressed, on so affecting an occasion, by shedding tears. When the federahsts reached the garden of the Tuileries, they received into their ranks the muni- cipality and the assembly. A body of youths, armed like their fathers, preceded the assembly ; a group of old men followed it ; thus recalling the ancient recol- lections of Sparta. The procession advanced, amidst the shcmts and cheers of the people. The quaj-s were covered with spectators, and the houses filled to the roofs. A bridge, constructed a few days before over the Seine, led by a way strewed with flowers from one bank to the other, and opened immediately upon the field of the federation. The procession traversed it, and each repaired to the place destined for him. A magnificent amphitheatre erected in the background was set apart for the national authorities. The king and the president were seated side bj' side, upon similar chairs, worked with fleurs-de-lis in gold. A balcony reared behind the king, contained the queen and the court. The ministers were at some distance from the king, and the deputies were ranged on each side. Four hundred thousand spectators filled the lateral amphitheatres ; sixty thousand armed federalists per- formed their evolutions in the intermediate space ; and in the midst arose, upon a base of twenty-five feet, the magnificent altar of the country. Tliree hundred priests, clad in white surplices and tri- coloured scarfs, covered its steps, in readiness to cele- brate mass. The arrival of the federalists occupied three hours. During this period, the sky was obscured with dark clouds, and the rain fell in torrents. That sky, whose brightness harmonises so well witli the buo^'ancy of human joy, refused at this eventful moment its sere- nity and its lustre. One of the arrived battalions laid down its arms and began to dance ; all immediately followed the examjilc, and in one short moment the whole intermediate field ivas pressed by si.xty thousand men, soldiers and citizens, opposing vivacity and gaiety to the relentless storm. At length the ceremony com- menced ; the weather, b}' a happy chance, cleared up, and the sun shone in all his splendour upon the solemn spectacle. The Bishop of Autun began the mass; choristers accompanied the voice of the pontiff; cannon mingled its awful roar. The holy rite performed, Lafayette dismounted from his horse, ascended the steps of the throne, and awaited tiie orders of the king, who handed to him the formula of the oath. Lafayette carried it to the altar, and at that moment all the banners were waved, and all swords glanced in the air. The general, the army, the president, the deputies, exclaimed, " I swear ! " The king, standing up and stretching his hand towards the altar, said ; " /, King of the French, swear to use the power delegated HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 81 to me bi) the constitutional act of the state, in maintaining the constitution decreed by the National Assembly and accepted by me." Whilst the king thus spoke, tlie queen, impelled by tlie general impulse, took iii her arms the august infant, the heir to the throne, and, from the rails of the balcony in which she stood, showed him to the asscniljled nation. At this sight, rapturous shouts of satisfaction, love, and enthusiasm, were directed towards the mother and the child, and all hearts Avere theirs. It was at this very instant that all France, collected in the chief towns of the f ighty-three departments, took the same oath to love the king who loved them. At such a time, hatred itself was softened, the exclusiveness of pride laid aside, and all were happy at the common bliss, and felt dignified in the common dignitJ^ Alas ! where- fore are the deep-seated pleasures of concord so soon forgotten ? This august ceremony being completed, the pro- t'cssion re-formed and resumed its march, the people .jiving way to unequivocal expressions of deUglit. The rejoicings lasted several days. A general review of tlie federalists afterwards took place ; sixty thousand men under arms presented a most imposing spectacle, at once military and national. In the evening, Paris gave an appropriate entertainment. The chief places of resort w-ere the Champs-Elysees and the Bastille. Upon the site of that ancient prison, then converted into a square, was to be read this phrase, " Dancing here." Brilliant lustres, ranged in cii'clets, supplied the light of day. The rich had been prohibited from (listurbiug this i)eaceable fete by the use of carriages. Every one was to render himself of the people, and feel happy at being so. The Cliamps-Elysces pre- sented a touching scene ; a vast concourse in motion, without noise, or tumult, or rivalry, or discord. AU classes, mixing freely together, promenaded under a soft artificial light, all liilarity and cheerfulness at the auspicious union. Thus, even in the heart of this our worn-out and selfish civilisation, the times of primitive fraternity seemed to have returned. The federalists, after having witnessed the imposing aspect of the National Assembly in debate, the cere- monious j)omp of the court, the magnificent wonders of Paris, and receiving ocular testimony of the virtues of the king, to whom they were all presented, and from whom they heard nothing but affecting expres- sions of benevolence, returned to their own homes in transports of rapture, and fuU of patriotic sentiments and illusions. After so many deplorable scenes, and Avhen entering on so many still more terril)le, the historian pauses with pleasure on these too fugitive hours, when all hearts beat with but one emotion, ardour for the public welfare.* * I have already quoted some passages from the Jlemoirs of Ferricrcs, relative to the opening sitting of the states-general. As nothing is more important than to verify the real sentiments which the revolution evoked in men, I feel called upon to give the description of the federation by tliat same Ferridres. By his words it may be judged whether the enthusiasm were genuine, >vliether it were communicative, and whether that revolution were so hideous as it has been represented. " In the mean time the federalists arrived from all parts of the kmgdom. They were received at private houses, the owners of which vied with each other in furnishing beds, linen, wood, and all that might contribute to render agreeable and comfortable tlieir residence in the metropolis. The municipality took mea- hures proper to prevent so great an influx of strangers disturbing public tranquillitj'. Twelve thousand laboui'crs worked without ceasing on preparations in the Champ de Mars. However great the activity displayed, the work advanced but slowly. Fears were entertained tliat it could not be finislied for the 14th July, the day irrevocably fixed for the ceremony, because it was the iinni- versary of the insurrection of P;iris and the capture of the Hastille. In this predicament, the districts invited good citizens, in the name of the country, to assist the labourers. This civic invitation electrified the imaginations of all ; women partook and propagated the enthusiasm ; seminarists, scliolars, nuns, monks, grown old in solitude, were seen to quit their cloisters and speed The festival of the federation, however imposing, left nevertheless but a transient emotion. The next day to the Champ de Marf , wdth sj)ades on their shoulders, and bear- ing banners ornamented with patriotic emblems. Tliere. all the citizens, promiscuously amalgamated, formed a vast and moving workshop, every point of which presented a varied group ; the dishevelled courtesan strove by the side of the fastidious prude, the capuchin carried a bucket with the chevalier of St Louis, tbe porter with the exquisite of the Palais Royal, the bra\\-ny fish- woman wheeled a barrow filled by the elegant and perfumed damsel ; the rich, the indigent, the well-attired, the tattered, the old, the adolescent, players, Swiss-guards, clerks, at labour or at rest, actors or spectators, offered to the astonished eye a scene re- plete with life and animation ; taverns moved on wheels, portable shoi)s, increased the charm and gaiety of the vast and ravishing picture ; songs, shouts of joy, the beating of drums, the chmg of martial music, the noise of pickaxes and of wheelbarrows, the voices of the labourers calling to and encouraging each other— the soul felt oppressed bene«ith the weight of a delicious intoxication, at sight of a people actuated by the gentle emotions of a primitive fraternity. When nine o'clock struck, the groups separated. Each citizen repaired to the place where his section was stationed, and rejoined his family and his acquaintances. The bands began their march to the sound of drums, returned to Paris, preceded by torches, spouting from time to time sarcasms against the the aristocrats, and singing the famous Ca ira. At length the 14th Jul}-, the day of the federation, arrived, amid the hopes of some, the alarms and terrors of others. If that great ceremony had not the serious and august character of a festival at once national and religious, a character almost irre- concileable with French feeling, it presented those agreeable and lively features of joy and enthusiasm which are a thousand times more touching. The federalists, drawn up by departments, under eighty-three banners, started from the site of tbe Bastille ; the deputies from the army and the marines, the Parisian national guard, drums, bands of music, the flags of the sections, led and closed the march. The federalists traversed the streets St Martin, St Denis, St Ilonore, and proceeded by the Coursla-Reineto a bridge of boat* laid across the river. They were greeted on the way b;-' the accla- mations of an immense multitude, thronging the streets, the windows, and the quays. The rain, which fell in torrents, neither deranged nor stayed the procession. The federalists, steeped in rain and perspiration, danced farandolas, and shouted, ' Long live our brethren of Paris !' The spectators handed them from the windows wine, hams, fruit, sweetmeats, and loaded them with benedictions. The National Assembly joined the procession at the Place Louis XV., and took their station between the battalion of veterans and that of the young pupils of the country — an expres- sive idea, which seemed to unite with it all ages and all interests. The road which conducted to the Champ de Mars was covered with people, who clapped their hands, and chanted the Ca ira. The quay de Chaillot and the heights of Passy presented a long amphitheatre, in which the elegance of form and apparel, the charms and the graces of the women, enchanted and bewildered the eye, allowing it no resting-place or excuse for preference. The rain continued to fall, but no one seemed to perceive it : French gaiety triumphed over the bad weather, the bad road«, and the fatiguing length of the march. M. de Lafayette, mounted on a superb charger, and surrounded by his aides-de-camp, gave orders, and received the homage of the people ;md the federalists. Perspiration rolled down his visage. A man, whom none knew, pierced the crowd, and came forward, holding a bottle in one hand and a glass in the other: 'My general,' said he, ' you are warm — drink !' The man raised hia bottle, filled a Iiu-ge glass, and presented it to JI. de Lafayette. The general received the glass, looked at the unknown for a moment, and swallowed the wine at a draught. The people applauded. Lafayette cast a smile of com])laccnce and confidence upon the nmltitude, seeming to exi)ress : ' 1 will never conceive any suspicion, I will never have any disquieting apprehensions, so long as I am in the midst of you." Meanwhile, more than tliree hundred thoiis.'ind people, male .and female, from Paris and the environs, congregated since six in the morning on the Champ de Mars, seated on steps of turf fonuing an immense circle, drenched, bespattered, opposing parasols to the watery torrent descending upon fhem, drying their drijiping countenances on the least glimpse of sunshine, and adjusting their head-dresses, awaited with huigliter and small- talk the federidists and the National Assembly. A vast .amphi- theatre had been erected for the king, the royal family, the amba-ssjulors, and the deputies. The federalists who arrived first begim to dance farandolas ; Oiose who followed joined in Uic 82 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. passions were as xiro;ent as the day before, and the war began again. Trifling disputes with the ministry re- curred to keep the spirit of strife idive. Complaints were made that a passage had been allowed to the Austrian troops in their march to the district of Liege. Saint-Priest was accused of having connived at the flight of several persons accused of counter-revolu- tionary plots. The court, in return, had caused to be inscribed on the order of the day the proceedings com- menced at the Chatclet against the authors of the 5th and 6tli October. The Duke of Orleans and Mirabcau found themselves implicated therein. That singular inquisition, several times abandoned and resumed, gave palpable token of the various influences by which it had been instigated. It exliil)ited a huge contradic- tory mass of evidence, and Avarranted no charge of any weight against the two accused principals. The court, after concluding a reconciliation with Mirabeau, had not pursued any fixed plan regarding him. It evinced, by alternate starts, a disposition to approxi- mate with or withdraw from him, and at the most, sought to silence him rather than to follow his coun- sels. In renewing the process concerning the 5th and amusement, and formed a rinR which soon embraced a large portion of the Champ de JIars. Here was a spectacle worthy the philosophic observer— a prodigious crowd of men, from the most distant parts of France, moved by the impulse of the national character, banishing all remembrance of the past, all idea of the Vresent, all fear of the future, giving way to a buoyant careless- ness; and three hundred thousand spectators, of every age and sex, following their movements, beating time with their fingers, oblivious of the rain, of hunger, of the tedium of long expecta- tion. At length, the entire procession having passed into the field, the dance ceased, and each federalist rejoined his standard. The Bishop of Autun prepared to celebrate mass at an altar of antique form, erected in the middle of the field. Three hundred priests, in white surplices, relieved by wide tri coloured sashes, ranged them- selves on the foiu- sides of the altar. The Bishop of Autun pro- nounced a benediction on the Oriflamme and the eiglity-three banners ; then he chanted the Te Dcum. Twelve hmidred musi- cians executed this anthem. J^afayette, at the head of tlie staff of the Parisian militia and of the deputies from the army and 03%^' ascended the altar and swore, on behalf of the troops and the federalists, to be faithful to the nation, tlie law, and the kmg. A discharge of four pieces of ordnance announced this solemn oath to France. The twelve hundred musicians rent the air with martial tunes ; the flags and banners waved ; the drawn swords glittered in the sun. The president of the National Assembly repeated the same oath. Tlie people and the deputies responded in shouts of ' I steenr.'' Then the king arose, and pronounced in a loud voice these words : ' I, King of the French, swear to use the power deUgated to me by the conslitutioiMl act of the stafj;, in mainUnning the constitution decreed by the National Assembly and accepted by me.' The queen took the dauphin in her arms, pre- sented him to the people, and said, ' Beliold my son !— lie joins, as well as myself, in those sentiments.' This unexpected pro- ceeding was tlie signal for a tliousand shouts of ' Long live tlie king! Long live the queen ! Long live the dauphin !' Tlie guns continued to mingle their majestic roar with the warlike strains of the military instruments and the acclamations of the people. The weather had cleared up ; the sun shone in all his splendour ; it seemed as if the Eternal hmiseU desired to witness this mutual engagement, and ratify it by his sanction. Ves : lie saw it ! He heard it !— and the frightfid evils which, since that day, have not ceased to desolate France, oh Providence, onmiscient and just ! are the merited punishments of perjury. Thou hast stricken both the monarch and the subjects who have violated their oaths ! The enthusiasm and rejoicings were not limited to the day of the federation. There was a continued series of feasts, balls, and amusements, during thestay of the federalists in Paris. The Champ de Mars was again visited by crowds, who there drank, and sang, and d.anccd. RL de Lafayette reviewed a part of the n.ational guard from the departments, and of the army of the lino. The king, the queen, and the dauphin, were present at this review, and were hailed with acclamations. The queen, with a graceful air, presented her hand to be kissed by the federalists, and showed the dauphin to them. Before quitting the capit;J, the federalists went to pay their resiiccts to the king ; all testified towards him the profouiidest reverence, the most perfect de- votion. The leader of the Bretons kneeled and presented his »word to Louis XVI., saying to him—' Hire, I deliver to you the 6th October, it was not he whom the court attacked, but the Duke of Orleans, who had been greatly applauded since his return from London, and whom it had harshlj' repulsed when he expressed a wish to regain the favour of the king.* Chabroud was ap- pointed to cbaw up the report to the assembly, whereby it might judge whether or not there were gTounds for an impeachment. The court desired that Mirabeau should preserve silence, and alxmdon the Duke of Orleans, against whom alone its rancour was excited. Nevertheless, he mounted the tribune, and showed how ridiculous were the imputations against him. He was accused of having apprised Mounier that Paris was marching on Versailles, and adding these words : " We must have a king, but it is of little moment whether he be Louis XVI. or Louis XVII !" likewise of having gone through the regiment of Flanders, sword in hand, and of exclaiming, on the sudden departure of the Duke of Orleans: " This is not worth the trouble that is taken about him." Nothing could be more childish than such complaints. Mirabeau did not fail to exhibit all their weakness and absurdity with his accustomed force ; he said but a few words on the matter as it atfected the Duke of sword of your faithful Bretons, pure and unsullied'; it will bo stained only with the blood of your enemies.' ' This sword can- not be in better hands than in tliose of my beloved Bretons," answered the king, raising the leader of the Bretons and return- ing him his sword ; ' I have neverdoubted their love and fidelity ; assure them that I am the father, the brother, the friend of all Frenchmen.' The king, greatly alfected, pressed the hand of the Breton leader, and embraced him. A mutual emotion prolonged for some seconds this touching scene. The Breton first found words. ' Sue,' said he, ' all Frenchmen, if I judge them by our hearts, cherish you, and ever will cherish you, because you are a citizen king.' The municipality of Paris likewise determined to give a fete to the federalists. There were aquatic contests on the river, fire- works, an illumination, a ball and supper in the coni-market, and a ball on the site of the BastUle. At the entrance to the enclosure were inscribed in large characters, ' Dancing here ;' a happy motto, contrasting in a striking manner with the old ideas of horror and despair which the recollection of that odious prison suggested. The people moved to and fro from one scene of enter- tainment to the other, without annoj'ance or interruption. The police, by prohibiting the driving of caiTiages, prevented the accidents so common in public rejoicings, and also the timiul- tuous clatter of horses, wheels, and cries of ' Take care ;' a noise which fatigues and stupifies the citizens, makes them feaj every instant to be crushed, and gives the most brilliant and best- ordered festival the appearance of a flight. Public festivals are essentially for the people. It is they alone who ought to be attended to. If the rich wish to partake then- pleasures, let them become part of the people on that day ; they will imbibe unknown sensa- tions, and not disturb the joy of their fellow-citizens. It was at the Champs-EIysees that sentimental men enjoyed with the greatest satisfaction this delightful popular festival. Strings of lights hung on all the trees, garlands of small lamps connected tliem together, pyramids of flame, placed at regular distances, shed a clear brilliancy, which the towering mass of the surrounding gloom rendered more dazzling from contrast. The people tilled the avenues and the lawns. The citizen, seated with his wife, and encomp;issed by his children, ate, talked, laughed, took a promenade, and exquisitely felt the charms of existence Here were young girls and boys dancing to the music of several orchestras stationed on the slopes, which had been railed off for the purpose. A little farther, some sailors, in close jackets and drawers, surrounded by numerous gi-oups, regarding them with curious interest, were endeavouring to climb up high poles rubbed with soap, to gain a prize awarded to him who should succcctl in bringing away a tri-coloured flag affixed to the summit. It was worth hearing the shouts of laughter provoked by those who were compelled to abandon the enterprise, and the words of encourage- ment given to those who, with more skill or fortune, seemed likely to attain the object. A mild and c'pothecation of equal solidity ; all this I am far from denying. The assignat, considered as an obligation of debt, has a positive and material value ; that value being precisely the same as that of the domain it represents; but at the same time it must be borne in mind that no national paper ever circulated on a par with specie ; the secondarj' emblem of the original representative emblem of wealth can never have the precise value of its model ; the verj' obligation confesses the exigency, and exigency bears alarm and distrust as inherent concomitants. "Why will the paper-money always be below the precious metals in value ? In the first place, because doubts will always exist as to the exact relation between the mass of assignats and that of the national domains ; because there will be a protracted uncer- tainty as to the consummation of sales ; because it is not to be predicated when two thousand millions of assignats, representing nearly the value of the domains, will be cancelled ; because, specie being brought into competition with paper, both the one and the other become merchandise, and the more abundantly an article of merchandise is supplied, the more it sinks in price; because with specie it will be alwaj-s possible to dispense with assignats, whilst it will be impossible with assignats to do without specie; and fortunately the absolute occasion for specie will preserve some jmrtion in circulation, for the most dreadful of all evils would be its complete disappearance." The orator subsequently added : " The creation of an assign.at currency is assuredly not to sup- ply an equivalent for an intrinsically valuable commodity, but simply a substitute for a metallic currency. Now, a substance invested with the character of money cannot, whatever ideas may be attached to it, represent that which is at once money aiid com- modity. An assignat currency, therefore, however safe, however solid it may be, is an abstraction of the metallic currency ; it is but the free or enforc-ed emblem, not of wealth, but simply of credit. It follows, as a necess;iry deduction, that to give paper the functions of money, by rendering it, like other convertible mediums, an agent for all operations of exchange, is to alter the quantity recognised as unity, or, as it is called in this matter, the ttandard of value; it is to effect in a moment what ages scarcelv effect in a state gathering wealth ; and if, to borrow the expres- patriots. Necker possessed that intellect which, with a certain haughtiness, sits in judgment upon, and censures the delusions of, passion ; but lie was deficient in that more lofty and less vain intellect, which stops not short at censuring, but knows how to mould them to its own suggestions. Thus, thrown into the midst of violent parties, he fretted all, but never curbed. Left without friends by the secession of Mounier and LaHy, he had preserved only the useless Malouet He had irritated the assembly, by perpetually and reproachfully reminding it of the most embarrassing of all its cares, that of the finances ; and he had fur- thermore incurred much ridicule by the manner in which he spoke of himself. His resignation was hailed with pleasure by all parties.* His carriage was ar- rested on the frontiers by that same people who had fonnerly drawn it in triumph, and an order of the assembly was required to procure him hberty to pro- ceed into S^vitzerland. It was immediately granted ; and he retired to Coppet, to contemplate at a distance a revolution which he was more fitted to observe than lead-t The ministry was reduced to a nullity as complete as the king himself, and devoted itself, as the extent sion of a learned foreigner, money performs the same functions with regard to the value of commodities as degi-ees, minutes, and seconds, with regard to angles, or scales with regiird to geogi-.iphi- cal charts or plans of any sort, I ask. what must be the result of this alteration in the common standard?" After having shown the nature of this new currency, M. de TallejTand foretells, Avith singular precision, the confusion that must ensue from it in private transactions : — ' ' But let us follow the assignats in their progress, and see what course they are destined to describe. The creditor thus paid will have to' purchase domains with his assignats, or he will keep them, or he will employ them in other objects of acquisition. If he buys domains, then your views will be accomplished ; and I will join you in applauding the creation of assignats, because they will not be forced into circulation— because, in fact, they will have merely efl'ected what I propose you should give the public obligations, the faciUty of being exchanged for the public domains. But if this creditor, in his distrust, prefers to lose interest by retaining an unproductive obligation ; if he converts assignats into specie to hoard, or into foreign bills to transport ; if instances of the latter operations should be more numerous than of the first ; if, in a word, the assignats linger long in the circulation before falling into the exchequer to be cancelled ; if they come forcibly and remain in the hands of men obliged to receive them at par, and who, owing nothing, can only make use of them at a sacrifice ; if they are the cause of a great injustice perpetrated by all debtors towards former creditors, in paying assignats at the exchangeable value of specie, whilst they belie the amount they express, as it will be impossible to compel venders to take them at the metallic par, or, in other words, without raising the price of their articles on account of the depreciation of assignats — how much in such cases will this ingenious operation deceive the p.atriotism of those whose sagacity has conceived it, and whose sincere conviction upholds it ; and to what inconsolable regrets shall we not be condemned ?" It cannot, therefore, be said that the Constituent Assembly was completely in the dark as to the possible consequences of its measm-es ; but to these warnings one of those answers might have been opposed which are never hazarded at the moment, but which would be decisive, and which become so in the end ; this answer was necessity — the necessity of providing for financial exigencies, and of dividing the national domains. * [Necker resigned on the 4th September.] t [" Necker, whom the recollection of his old ascendancy per- petually haunted, addressed memorials to the assembly, in which he combated its decrees, and complacently offered his advice. That minister coidd not accommodate himself to a secondary part ; he refused to follow the expeditious plans of the assembly, which were so diametrically opposed to his ideas of successive reforms. At length, convinced or weary of the inutility of hia exhortations, Necker departed from Paris, after giving in hia i-esignation on the 4th September 17W, and he passed in obscurity through those provinces which a year before he had travereed as a triumphant hero. In revolutions men are easily forgotten, because the people have many before their eyes, and numberless events are crowded into little time — people live quick at such eras."— .l/«7>»e<, voL i. p. 140.] HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. of its action, to intrigues either useless or culpable. Saint-Priest corresijonded with the emigrants -, Latour- du-Pin gave way to all the desires of the military leaders ; and Montmorin, enjoying the esteem of the court, had none of its confidence, and was employed .n intrigues with the chief popular deputies, with whom his moderation brought him in relation. The ministers were all denounced on the occasion of fresh outbreaks. " I likewise," exclaimed Oazales, " woiild denounce them, if it were generous to attack men so thoroughly weak ; I would accuse the minister of finances for not having explained to the assembly the veritable resources of the kingdom, and for not taking measures to direct a revolution which he had incited ; I would accuse the minister at war for having suffered the army to fall into disorganisation, and the minister of the interior for not having made the king's orders be obeyed — all of them, in short, for their utter incom- petence, and their treacherous counsels to the king." Inertness is a high crime in the ej'es of parties eager to attain their object ; and accordingly the right side condemned the ministers, not for what they had done, but for what they had left undone. And yet Cazales and his party, though overwhelming them with re- proaches, opposed an address to the king for their removal, for they regarded it as an invasion of the royal prerogative. This dismissal was not demanded, but they successively gave in their resignations, except Montmorin, who alone maintained his office. Duport- du-Tertre, a simple advocate, was appointed keeper of the seals. Duportail, recommended to the king by Lafayette, replaced Latour-du-Pin in the war depart- ment, and exhibited a more fiivourable bias towards the popular party. One of the measures he took was to deprive Bouille of the uncontrolled hcense he per- mitted himself in his command, and particularly of the power to displace the troops at his own will — a power much exercised by Bouille, as we have already observed, to prevent the soldiers from fraternising with the people. The king had pondered deeply on the history of the English Revolution. The fate of Charles I. had always particidarly affected him, and he could not divest himself of certain gloomy presentiments. He had especially reflected that the motive for the condemna- tion of Charles was his having excited civil war. He had thus contracted an invincible repugnance for all measures calculated to provoke the effusion of blood ; and had constantly opposed all the projects for flight suggested by the queen and the court. During the summer of 1790, passed at St Cloud, he might have fled, but he was ahvays disinclined to hear the proposal mooted. The friends of the constitution were as apprehensive as he of a measure which seemed certain to result in civil war. The aristocrats alone were strenuoiis for its adoption, because they flattered themselves that, rendered masters of the king by his removal from the assembly, they would govern in his name, and return Avith him at the head of a foreigni army, little reflecting that they would but follow in its train. The aristocrats were possibly accompanied m their wishes by certain minds more rapid in con- clusions, which already began to consider the feasi- bility of a republic, a thing as yet mithought of; the name of which had never been mentioned, unless by the queen in her passionate gusts against Lafayette and the assembly, whom she was wont to accuse of aiming at that object with all their might. Lafayette, as leader of the constitutional force, and of all the sincere friends of rational liberty, watched with unre- mitting zeal over the person of the monarch. The two ideas, the withdrawal of the king and civil war, had been so intimately associated in all minds from the commencement of the revolution, that the first event was universally regarded as the harbinger of the greatest calamity that can befaU a nation. However, the dismissal of the ministry, which, if it had not possessed the confidence of Louis XVI., was at least his own choice, irritated him against the as- sembly, and raised fears in his mind of the complete prostration of the executive power. The fresh debates on religion, which the hypocrisy of the clergy origi- nated on the subject of their civil constitution,"alarmed his timorous conscience, and serious thoughts of flight began to occupy his imagination. Towards the end of 1790, he wrote respecting it to Bouille, who at first opposed the measure, but afterwards yielded, lest his zeal might seem suspicious to the unfortunate monarch. Mirabeau, on his part, had formed a plan for sustain- ing the cause of the monarchy. Although in constant conmiunication with Montmorin, he had hitherto at- tempted nothing of serious moment, because the court, vacillating between foreign aid and the emigration on one hand, and the national party on the other, was really not disposed to be precipitate ; and, perhaps, of all measures, feared that most which should submit it to a master so sincerely constitutional as Mirabeau. Nevertheless, it was upon a perfectly good miderstand- ing with him at this period. Every thing was pro- mised him if he were successful, and all available resources were placed at his disposition. Talon, civil- lieutenant at the Chiitelet, and Laporte, recently in- stalled near the king's person as administrator of the civil list, had orders to commimicate with him and aid in the execution of his plans. Mirabeau condemned the new constitution. For a monarchy it was, in his opinion, too democratical ; and for a republic, there was one thing too much — a king. The popular agi- tation especially, which was always on the increase, operated on his mind, and he determined to arrest it. At Paris, against the sway of the multitude, and of an all-powerful assembly, no enterprise was feasible. He saw but one resource, which was to remove the king from Paris and fix him at Lyons. There the king would explain his views ; he would energetically proclaim the reasons which induced him to condemn the new constitution, and would publish another, which was already framed. At the same moment, a first legislature would be convoked. Mirabeau, in corres- ponding by letter with the most popular members, had artfully succeeded in drawing from them all a disapproval of some particular provision in the actual constitution. By putting together these different avowals, the entire constitution was found to be con- demned by its very authors.* He purposed append- ing them to the king's manifesto, in order to give it greater weight, and to demonstrate more fully the necessity for a new constitution. We are ignorant of all his means of execution ; we are only aware that, through the police of Talon, the civil lieutenant, he had gained pamphleteers, and clul) and street orators ; and that, tln-ough his extensive correspondence, he had reason to feel sure of thirty-six departments in the south. He unquestionably intended to avail him- self of Bouille's assistance, but he would not place * It was not possible that, in a work collectively composed by a gi'eat number of individuals, there should be perfect uniformity of opinion. As unanimity prevailed only upon very few points, it follows that each article must have been disapproved by those who voted against it. Thus every clause in the constitution of 1701 must have had disapprovers amongst the very authors of that constitution ; but, nevertheless, the whole was their real and incontestible work. AVhat happened in this instance is inevitable as regai-ds every deliberative body, and Jlirabcau's mancpuvre was but a trick. It may be even said that there Wiis little honour Ln such a proceeding ; but great allowances nuist be made for a powerful and reckless being, whom the morality of tlie end rendered very indifferent as to that of the means ; 1 say designedly the morality of the end, for Mirabeau sincerely believed in the necessity of a modified constitution ; and although his ambition, and his petty personal rivalries, greatly contributed to alienate him from the popular party, he was sincere in his detestation of anarchy. Others besides him feared the court and the aristocracy more than the people. Thus on all sides there were, according to positions, different apprehensions; and as genuine conviction changes with points of view, moralitj'j that is to say, sincerity, is found equally in the most opposite parties. U B6 IIISTOIIY OF THE FRENCH IlEYOLUTION. himself at the mercy of tliat {general. Whilst Bouille was encamped at Montnieily, he desifjned that the king should remain at I^yons ; and he himself, accord- ing to circumstances, would station himself at Paris or Lyons. A foreign prince, the friend of I\Iirabeau, saw Bouille on the king's part, and commmiicated to him this project, but without the knowledge of Mira- beau,* who never thought of a retreat to Montni(>dy, whither the king subsequently proceeded. Boudic, struck with the genius evinced by Mirabeau, declared that nothing shoidd be omitted to make sure of such a man, and that, so far as he was concerned, he was ready to second him with all his power. M. de Lafayette was unacquainted with this project. Although he was sincerely devoted to the person of the king, he enjoyed liot tlie confidence of the court, and besides, he was viewed with envy by Mirabeau, who had no intentit)n of giving himself such a comrade. Furtliermore. M. de Lafayette was known to be fa- vourable onlv to a straight course, and this plan was too unscrupulous, too apart from legal ways, to suit him. However, whether this were so or not, Mirabeau was determined to be the sole executor of his own jilan, and, in fact, he conducted it quite alone during the winter of 1790-91. It is impossible to decide whether he would have succeeded ; but it is certain that, altliough incapable of turning back tlie revolu- tionary torrent, he woidd at least have intluenced its direction, and assuredly, without changing the inevi- table result of a revolution such as the French, he would have modified its events by his powerful oppo- sition. "We may still be allowed to doubt whether, if he had succeeded in controlling the popular party, he wotild have been enabled to render himself master of the aristocracy and the court. One of his friends suggested to him tliis latter objection. " They have jiromised me all," said Mirabeau. " And if they should not keep their word ?" " If they break their word, I will blow them into a republic." The principal articles of the civil constitution of the clergy, such as the new limitations of dioceses, and the election of all the ecclesiastical functionaries, had been decreed. The king had referred them to the pope, who, after returning an answer in a mixed tone of severity and paternal mildness, had remitted the determination to the clergy of France. The clergy took advantage of this appeal, and raised a cry that the spiritual authority was coitipromised by the mea- sures of the assembly. At the same time, they disse- minated mandates, and declared that tlie deposed bishops woidd not retire from their sees unless by constraint and force ; that they would hire houses and continue their ecclesiastical functions ; and that those wlio remained true to their faith should attend onh^ to them. The clergy prosecuted their intrigues especially in La Vendee, and in certain departments of the south, where they acted in concert with the emigrants. A federative ca.mp was formed at Jallez,t where, under the alleged pretext of federations, the pretended fede- ralists designed to establish a centre of opposition to the measures of the assembly. The po[)ular party was greatly exasperated at these plots ; and, resolute in its power, weary of its moderation, it determined to adopt a decisive step. We have already seen what motives inlluenced it in the enactment of the civil con- stitution. The authors of that constitution were the most sincere Christians in the assembly ; and these, provoked at so unjust an opposition, resolved to van- quish it. It lias been already stated that an express decree obliged all public functionaries to take an oath to the new constitution. When the question concerning this * noiiillt, in hiH Slfinoir.s, sconis of opinion that it was on the pnrt ly)th of Mirabcin ami the king that overtures were made to him. Hut it ih a ini->tal be apprehended the factious might suc- ceed in sowing discord between them and the troops of the line ; that with empty phra.sc8 they had roused the people against the depositaries of public authority ; that it would be, therefore, more politic to follow their example, and to give those new regi • inents the denomination of rui/al mililin ; that' The Bishop of Arras, roughly interrupting me, said, ' No, no, sir, it is fitting you should have bunjher in your commission ;' and the Biiron de Plaschlanden, who drew it out, inserted the word hurghcr."—Collfction of varioxu Documents relative to the f reach Revalution, p. 62. In the mean time, the king, unable any longer to endure the constraint that was imposed upon Mm, and the reductions of power that the assembly forced from him, above all, having terrors upon his conscience since the last decrees touching the priests, had deter- mined to fly. The whole winter had been devoted to preparations ; the zeal of Mirabeau was stimulated — he was loaded with promises if he succeeded in plac- ing the royal family at liberty, and on his own part he prosecuted his plan with the greatest activity. Lafiiyette had recently quarrelled with the Lanieths. They found him too steady in his attention to the court ; and as his integrity was not to be suspected, like that of Miraljeau, they reproached him with want of intellect, and with allowing himself to be grossly played upon. The enemies of the Lamoths, on the other hand, accused them of envying Lafayette's military power, as they had envied Mirabeau's oratorical power. The brothers coalesced, or appeared to coalesce, with the friends of the Duke of Orleans ; and it was alleged that they desired to obtain for one of them the com- mand of the national guard. It was Charles Lameth who had the ambition to aspire to it, as was said ; and to this cause were attributed the perpetually recurring difficulties henceforth raised in the path of Lafayette. On the 28th February, the populace, stimulated by the emissaries of the Duke of Orleans, as was alleged, proceeded to the castle of Vincennes, which the muni- cipality had prepared for the reception of prisoners, who were growing somewhat too numerous for the jails of Paris. This castle was attacked as a new Bastille. Lafayette reached the scene in good time, and afterwards dispersed the faubourg Saint- Antoine, headed by Santerre, flocking to tliat expedition. Whilst he re-established order in that part of Paris, difficidties of another kind were preparing for him at the Tuilcries. Upon the report of a riot, many of the frequenters of the palace had resorted thither, to the number of some hmidreds. They bore concealed arms, such as hunting-knives and poniards. The national guard, at a loss to account for this sudden concourse, deemed it suspicious, and accordingly disarmed and maltreated some of those men. Lafayette arrived, cleared the palace, and took possession of the weapons seized. Rumours of the occurrence soon spread ; it was said that men bearing daggers had been found, whence they were afterwards called " Knights of the Dagger." They asserted, on their part, that they had attended at the palace merely to defend the king's person, which was threatened. They were reproached with a design to carry him off; and, as usual, the event Avas terminated by mutual calumnies. This day disi)layed the actual position of Lafayette. It was made more palpable than ever, that, placed be- tween extreme parties, his fmictions were to protect both the king's person and the constitution. His twofold victory augmented at once his popularity, his influence, and the hatred of his enemies. Mira- beau, who is open to censure for instigating the sus- picions of the court respecting him, represented this conduct as profoundly hypocritical. Under the mask of moderation and of resistance to all parties, it tended, according to his version, to usurpation. In his ill humour, he stigmatised the Lanieths also as traitors and fools, in league with Orleans, and commanding scarcely thirty partisans in the assembly. As to the right side, he declared it was impossible to make any thing of it, and that he relied altogetlier upon the three or four hundred members who were free from party ties, and ahvays prepared to decide upon the impressions wliich he conveyed at the moment by his reason and eloquence. The only true points in these representations were his estimate of the respective strength of parties, and his opinion upon the means of directing the assembly. He exercised control over it, in faot, by swaying all who had no positive engagements. That very day, the 28th February, he evinced, almost for the last HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 8i, time, his empire, signalised his hatred against the Lameths, and broug-ht all his formidable powers to bear upon them. The law respecting emigration was appointed for discussion. Chapelier presented it, as the r>_porter of the committee. That committee partook, he said, the genera] indignation against those Frenchmen who abandoned their country ; but after several days' con- sideration, it had come to the conclusion that it was impossible to frame a law upon emigration. There is no doubt that many difficulties opposed the passing of such a law. It was necessary to settle, first of all, whe- ther any right existed for pinning men, as it were, to the soil. If the safety of the country demanded such a measure, it was unquestionably just and expedient ; but then the motives of travellers would require to be ascertained, a process involving a species of inquisi- tion ; it would be also necessary to determine their quality, whether of Frenchmen or foreigners, of emi- grants or simple commercial wayfarers. A law upon the subject was therefore very difiicult, if not alto- gether impossible. Chapelier added, that the com- mittee, in obedience to the assembly, had nevertheless framed one, which, if it were wished, he would tlien read, but he declared beforehand that it violated every fundamental principle. " Read" — " Don't read" — resounded from all quarters. A number of deputies attempted to speak. Mirabeau demanded to be heard in his turn, obtained the right, and, what was of more consequence, imposed silence. He read a very elo- quent letter, formerly addressed to Frederick- William, in which he asserted the liberty to emigrate as one of the most sacred rights of men, who, not being rooted to the earth, were held in attachment to it by happi- ness alone. To gratify the court, perhaps, but more especially from conviction, he rejected as tyrannical every measure against the freedom of locomotion. Doubtless, this freedom was abused at that moment ; but the assembly, relying upon its strength, had dis- regarded so many outrages of the press perpetrated on itself, had stood the shock of so many futile con- spiracies, and had so victoriously repelled them all by mere contempt, that a continuance in the same course was eminently advisable. Mirabeau's opinion was apx)lauded, but it did not succeed in suppressing the desire to have the project of law read. ChapeUer at length read it : it proposed, in case of disturbances, to institute a dictatorial commission, composed of three members, with power to designate by name, and at their own pleasure, those who should have liberty to travel without the limits of the kingdom. Upon hear- ing this extravagant proposition, which bespoke at once the impossibility of legislation, violent murmurs arose. " Your munnurs re-assure me," exclaimed Mirabeau ; " your hearts beat in unison with mine, and repudiate this absurd tyranny. As for me, I hold myself freed from all oath towards those who shall be infamous enough to sanction a dictatorial commission." — Shouts arose from the left side — " Yes," he resumed, " I swear" — he was again interrupted — " That popu- larity," he cried, in a voice of thunder, " for which I have longed, and which I liave enjoyed as well as others, is not a feeble reed : I will dig it deeply into the earth; I will make it flourish on the soil of justice and reason." Cheers broke forth from all sides. " I swear," added the orator — " if an emigration law be passed — I swear to disobey you ! " He descended from the tribune, after electrifying the assembly and awing his enemies. However, the debate was still proceeded with ; one party wished an adjournment, to afford time for digesting a better law, whilst others demanded that a resolution of the in- tention to enact none should be at once passed, in order to calm the people and put an end to agitation. Murmurs, shouts, ai)plauses, were mingled in strange ct)nfusion. Mirabeau again claimed to be heard, and seemed to insist upon it as a right. " By what name is the dictatorship exercised here by M. de Mirabeau known?" exclaimed M. Goupil. Mirabeau, without listening to him, sprang up tlie tribmie. " I have not granted liberty to speak," said the president : " let the assembly decide." But the assembly disposed itself to hear him without any formal decision upon the point. " I beg the interruptors to remember," said Mirabeau, " that I have combated tyranny all my life, and tliat I will combat it wherever it may be seated ;" and as he pronounced these words, he cast his eye from right to left. Loud cheers greeted the expression. He resumed : " I beg M. Goupil to re- collect, that he once before egregiously erred as to a certain Catiline, whose dictatorship he this day de- nomices ; * I beg the assembly to reflect, that the ques- tion of adjournment, apparently so simple, involves others, and that, for example, it supposes a law to make." Fresh murmurs interrupted him from the left. " Silence to those thirty voices ! " exclaimed the orator, fixing his eyes on the benches of Barnave and the Lameths. " In a word," added he, " if you desire it, I will also vote for tlie adjournment, but on con- dition that it be decreed that from this moment to the expiration of the adjournment there shall be no seditious movement." Unanimous applause followed these words. However, the adjournment was carried, but by so small a majority that the result was con- tested and a second division demanded. In this debate, Mirabeau drew more than ever upon the audaciousness of his character ; never, perhaps, had he so imperiously overawed the assembly. But his end was approaching, and these were his final triumphs. Presentiments of death mingled with his vast projects, and occasionally prevented their deve- lopement. But his conscience was satisfied ; the public esteem was united with his own, and assured him that if he had not yet done enough for the good of the state, he had at all events done enough for his own glory. With his countenance deadly pale, and his eyes deeply sunk, his appearance in the tribune was greatly altered, and he was often seized with sudden fainting-fits. Pleasure and labour, both pushed to excess, and the exhausting emotions of the tribune, had prematurely worn out his powerfid frame. Baths, containing subli- mate of mercury in solution, had produced that greenish tint which was attributed to poison. The court was in consternation, all parties in amazement, and, some time before his death, its cause was a subject of general conversation. Upon a last occasion, he spoke at five different intervals, left the hall exhausted, and never re-appeared. The deathbed received him, and gave him up only for the Pantheon. He had insisted with Cabanis, his friend, that no physicians should be called; but his injunction was disobeyed, and when they came they found death upon him ; it had already seized his feet. The head was affected last, as if nature were desirous to leave his genius brUliant to the final mo- ment. An immense crowd flocked around his dwelling, and blocked up all the avenues, awaiting the issue in profound silence. The court sent messenger after messenger ; the bulletins of his condition were passed from mouth to mouth, and disseminated the grief, at eacli advance of the malady, into every quarter of the city. He himself, surrounded by his friends, expressed regret for his unaccomplished labours, and some feel- ing of pride for those he had achieved. " Sustain this head," said he to his servant, " the strongest in France !" The proofs of popular concern greatly moved him ; and the visit of Barnave, his enemy, who presented himself at his bedside in the name of the Jacobins, caused in him an agreeable emotion. He still bestowed some thoughts on public affiiirs. The assembly was shortly to discuss the subject of testamentary dispo- sitions : ho beckoned to M. Talleyrand, and put in his hands a speech he had prepared. " It will be amus- ing," said he to him, " to hear a man s]ieak against * M. Goupil, on a previous occasion attacking Mirabeau, had exclaimed with the members of the riglit biile, " Catiline is at our gates !" HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. testaments wlio is no more, and who has ah-eady made liis own." The court had desired tluit he should make a will, promising to discharge all the legacies. Recur- ring to till' state of Europe, and divining the projects of England : " That Pitt," said he, " is the minister for preparations : he governs by tlireats ; I would give him some trouble if I lived !" The priest of his parish coming *'orward to offer his services, he thanked liim with cordiality, and told him, with a smile, that he would have willingly accepted them if his superior ecclesiastic, the Bishop of Autun, were not in the house. He ordered iiis windows to be opened : " My friend," said he to Cabauis, " I will die to-day ; there remains nothing more bnt to be wrapped in perfumes, crowned witii flowers, and surrounded with music, in order to glide peaceably into the etcnial sleep." Acute pains interrupted fronl time to time his resigned and touching phrases. " You promised," said he to his friends, " to spare me from useless anguish." With these words, he asked earnestly for opium. As they refused it him, he demanded it with liis accustomed violence. To satisfy him, they practised deception, and presenteeopold pro- mised to march 35,000 men into Flanders, and 15,000 into Alsace. He declared that an equal number of Swiss would proceed towards Lyons, as many Pied- montese into Dauphiny, and that Spain would assemble 20,000 men. The emperor undertook for the co-ope- ration of Prussia and the neutrality of England. A protestation, drawn up in the name of the house of Bourbon, was to be signed by the King of Naples, the King of Spain, the Infant of Parma, and the expa- triated princes. Until the promulgation of that docu- ment, the most profound secrecy was imposed. It was also recommended to Louis XVI. not to think of removing, although he had testified a strong desire to do so ; whilst Breteuil, on the contrary, advised the king to depart from Paris. It is quite possible that on both sides the counsel was given in good faith ; but it must be at the same time observed, that each gave such advice as suited best his own interests. * .Sec on this subject r.crtr.ind de Mclcville. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. fll Breteuil, who wished to nullify Calonne's negotiation at Mantua, urged the departiu'e ; and Calonne, whose reign would have ceased if Louis XVI. had stationed himself on the fi-ontier, conveyed suggestions induc- ing him to remain. However the case may be, the king resolved upon leaving ; and he often said with some som-ness of temper, " It was Breteuil who would have it."* He therefore wrote to Bouille that he was determined to defer his flight no longer. * See Beitrand de Moleville. [Bertrand's Annals are, in all matters aft'eoting the king and queen personally, very admirable authority. He himself w.is much trusted by the king, was one of liis ministers, was intimate at this time with all who formed the court, and afterwards in exile with M. de Calonne and others, who were prominently concerned in these important negotiations. Bertrand's details as to the mission of Durfort are extremely curious, and are faithfully embodied in M. Thiers's text. Their length, however, forbids us to insert them fully here; but the questions propounded by M. de Durfort, and the answers given to them, present so singular a record, as to render them eminently worthy of being transcribed. M. Bertrand says—" The following is an exact copy of those questions and answers ; the ajiswers ai'e supposed to be adch-essed to the Comit d'Artois : — 1st Questwt. Do your majesties confide in the intentions and tn the zeal of the Count d'Artois ? Is there any ground for tlie anxiety he has been made to suffer as to your sentiments in respect to him, and as to your intentions to put yourselves into the hands of the factious in the assembly, rather than owe yoiu- safety, and the re-establishment of your authority, to the efforts and success of the princes, in conjunction with the nobility of the kingdom ? Answer {dictated by the queen). Vou are deceived. Your situa- tion is that which occupies their majesties most. How can it be believed, that with the exalted spirit you know they possess, they prefer remaining under the yoke of infamous villains, to being succoured by their near relations and faithful servants ? 2d Question. What do your majesties t'.iink of M. de Lafayette ? Answer. We consider him as a fanatical, weak, factious man, ID whom we c:m never have the least confidence. 3d Question. What do you think of JI. de Montniorin ? Answer. His will is good, but he has no power. ith Question. Has the Archbishop of Sens any influence on the determinations of your majesties ? Answer. None. He is generally abhorred and despised by all parties. We concur in this public opinion. He has, besides, deceived us. 5th Question. Why did the king go to the assembly, after being prevented from going to St Cloud ? Answer. He was forced by his mmisters, on whom he could not rely. 6th Question. In what state is the mind of the people ? Have your majesties any persons in the assembly on whom you can rely? Answer. The mind of the people is detestable ; they are for no king. We have no per!>on in the assembly. The only deputy who made overtures to us is dead. 7th Question. How is the letter addressed to all the ambassadors to be justified? Answer. The date proves the necessity of it. The king did not sign it ; and he made no alteration in it, that it might appear as monstrous as it really was ; it was drawn up by the members of the assembly, who thought this step indispensably necessiu.)-, and who expected great success from it. Wi Question. Have j'om' majesties a desire or intention of leaving Paris ? Answer. The greatest desire ; but the means of effecting it appear to us ahuost impossible. In case the opportunity shoiUd offer, we wish to know beforehand in what place we should be most secure — by Valenciennes or JVIetz. We are very anxious on this head." The Coimt de Durfort subsequently brought a plan, dictated and corrected by the Emperor Leopold, in which, after specif\'ing the assistance to be afforded by hiiuself and the other foreign powers, it is stated : " Though hitherto it had been wished that tlieir majesties might themselves procure tlieir liberty, the present situation of affairs makes it necessary to entreat them earnestly to drop the idea. This is the emperor's opinion. He depends solely on this plan of conduct for the success of tJie measures which he has adopted, and particularly requests that every other may bo given uj). What might happen to their majesties, if in tlieir flinht they BboiUd not be able to escape a barbarous vigiUmce, makes him His intention was not to leave the kingdom, but to retire to Montmedy, where he could, in" case of ne- cessity, Ml back on Luxumbourg, and receive foreign aid. The Chalons route, by Clermont and Varennes, was preferred, in spite of Bouillc's counsels. All the preparations were in readiness for departure on the 20th June. The general assembled those troops upon which he placed the firmest rehance ; formed a camp at Montmedy, amassed stores of forage, and accounted for all these dispositions by movements which he alleged to be making on the frontier. The queen had taken upon herself the charge of the progress from Paris to Chalons ; and from thf.t town to Montmedy was under the care of Bouille. Small detachments of cavalry were to be stationed upon various points, under pretext of escorting a treasure, but in reality to re- ceive the king on his passage. Bouille himself pro- posed to advance some distance from Montmedy. The queen had secured a secret door for the purpose of escaping out of tlie palace. The royal family was to travel under an assumed name, and with a false passport. Every thing was ready for tlie 20th ; but some apprehension caused the journey to be delayed till the following day, a delay which was fatal to the unfortunate family. M. de Lafayette was in com- plete ignorance of the journey, and M. de Mont- morin himself, notwithstanding the confidence the court reposed in him, was left in absolute ignorance likewise ; no one was intrusted with the secret of the project but the persons indispensable to its execution. Some rumours of flight were nevertheless current in Paris, either from the plan having transpired to some partial extent, or from their originating in one of those alarms so common at the time. Howsoever it may have been, the committee of inquiry had been apprised of it, and the vigilance of the national guard was stimulated in consequence. On the 20th June, at midnight, the king, the queen, Madame Elizabeth, and Madame de Tourzel, gover- ness of the childi-en of France, disguised themselves, and successively issued from the palace. Madame de Tourzel, with the children, proceeded to the Petit Carrousel, and got into a carriage driven by M. de Fersen, a young foreign nobleman, disguised as a coachman. The king soon joined them; but the queen, who had left the palace with a life-guardsman, caused them the most lively sohcitude. Neither she nor her guide was acquainted with the streets of Paris ; she mistook the way, and did not find the Petit Car- rousel for a whole hour ; on the road, she encountered the carriage of M. de Lafayette, whose servants were walking with torches. She concealed herself under the gateway of the Louvre, and, saved from that danger, she re;iched the carriage, where she was so impatiently expected. After being thus united, the whole family proceeded forward, and arrived, after a long circuit, and a second mistake in the rotite, at the gate St Martin, where a coach drawn by six horses awaited them, into which they all transferred theni- shudder with horror. His imperial majesty thinks tliat their majesties' surest course is the movement of tlie armies of the allied powers, preceded by tlireatening manifestos."—" Tlie plan being read," proceeds Bertraud, "their majesties, without entering upon a minute discussion of the different articles of it, only obsei-ved, that with respect to the parliaments, after the declara- tions contiiined in their last resolutions, they coidd not, and ought not, to be more th.in judges. The king did not deliver his sentiments conctniing the last article of the plan ; but the queen apjieared very much dissatisfied with it, and said with warmth, ' We ought to attempt every thing in order to leave Paris ; but to go only to the frontiers, for a king ought never to leave his king- dom. Confess,' added she, addressing herself to Count de Dur- fort, 'that my brother was hurt that we employed the Baron de Breteuil. We did it because he was the only person acquainted with the com't of Vienna, where he resided ; and because he « as known to the Prince de Kaimitz, who has so long held the reins there.' Several other questions relative to the Count d'Artois ter- minated this conversation. "—Iifrtra)id'«/l)i««?i, vol. iv. pp. 58-7?.] 9-2 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. selres. Madame de Tourzel, under the name of Ma- dame de Korff, was to pass for a mother travelling with her chihlren ; the king was to be supposed her valet-de-chambre ; three body-guardsmen in disguise were to precede the carriage as couriers, or to follow it as domestics. They at length departed, accom- panied bv the earnest hopes of M. de Fersen, who re- entered Paris to take the road to Brussels. At the same time, Monsieur directed his course towards Flanders, with his wife, pursuing a different route, in order to avoid exciting suspicions, and causing a failure of horses for relays. The king and his fiimily travelled all night without anv alarm being given at Paris. M de Fersen repaired to "the nmnicipality, to observe if any thing were known ; but at eight in the morning all were still in profound ignorance. However, the news soon tran- spired, and circulated with rapidity. Lafayette sum- moned his aides-de-camp around him, saying to them that he feared there was no hope of tlieir overtaking the fugitives, but that some effort must be made in the emergency ; he took upon himself the responsibility of tlie orders he issued, and in drawing up those orders, acted upon the idea that tlie royal family had been carried off by the enemies of the public welfiii'e. This respectful supposition was admitted by the assembly, and adopted throughout by all tlie authorities. At the moment, the "tumultuous populace reproached Lafayette with having favoured the flight of the king, and at a later date the aristocratic party accused him of having allowed the king to fly, Ln order afterwards to arrest him, and by so futile an attempt to ruin him. But if Lafayette had been disposed to wink at Louis XVL's flight, would he have dispatched, without any orders from the assembly, two aides-de-camp in pur- suit ? And if, as the aristocrats alleged, he only per- mitted him to escape in order to re-capture him, would he have given a whole night's start to the carriage ? The people were speedily undeceived, and Lafayette was again established in their previous good opmion. The assembly met at nine in the morning. Its appearance on that momentous occasion was as im- posing as during the first days of the revolution. The received idea was that Louis X\T. had been carried off. The greatest calmness, the most perfect union, reigned during the whole sitting. The measm-es spontaneously adopted by Lafayette were approved. The populace had stopped his two aides-de-camp at t)ie barriers; the assembly, every wliere obeyed, caused the gates to be opened for them. One of them, young Romeuf, took with him the decree confirming the orders already given by the general, and enjoining all public functionaries " to arrest, by all possible means, the persons implicated in the said abduction, and to prevent the journey being continued." Fol- lowing tlie wish and indications of the people around him, Romeuf took the route of Chalons, which was tlie true one, and which the marks of a carriage with six horses pointed out as such. The assembly called the ministers to its bar, and decreed tliat tliey should receive orders from none but itself. On departing, Louis XVI. had left orders for the minister of justice to send him the state seal. The assembly decided that the seal should be retained, and appended to its own decrees. At the same time, it passed a resolution that the frontiers should be put in a state of defence, and directed the minister for foreign affairs to assure the powers that the dispositions of the French nation with regard to them were in no wise altered. M. de Laporte, intondant of the civil list, was then heard. He liad received various communications from the king, amongst which were a note, which he be- oought the assembly not to open, and a memorial containing the motives of his departure. Tlie assem- bly, anxious to respect all rights, restored, without ojx-ning, the note which M. de Laporte was indisposed to render public, and ordered the memorial to be read. It was listened to witli tlie greatest tranquillity, and produced a very slight impression. The king com- plained therein of his curtailments of power with a marked want of dignity, and seemed to feel as acutely the reduction of his civil list to thirty millions, as the loss of aU his prerogatives. The grievances of the monarch were heard in silence, his weakness was pitied, and the assembly passed to the affairs before it. Few persons in the National Assembly were desirous of the king's arrest. The aristocrats saw in his flight the oldest of their hopes realised, and flattered them- selves with an immediate civil war. The extreme members of the popular party, already beginning to grow weary of a king, perceived in his absence an opportunity for dispensing with him, and formed the idea, as weU as the hope, of a republic. AU the moderate party, at tliis moment the governing party in tlie assembly, wished that the king might reach Montmedy in safety ; and, reh^ing upon his equity, it entertained little doubt that an accommodation would from thence become more easy between the tlirone and the nation. Less apprehension prevailed now than formerly at the prospect of the monarch tlireatening tlie constitution from the midst of an army. The people alone, upon whom terror at this event had been sedulously inculcated, were still affected by it when the assembly had shaken off its influence, and they put up many ardent vows for the arrest of the royal family. Such was the state of opinion and of things at Paris. The roj-al carriage, departing in the night of the 20th and 21st, li;id happily traversed a considerable part of the route, and had reached Chalons with- out impcdiniciit alioiit five in the afternoon of the 21st. At that town, the king, who was indiscreet enough to put his head several times out of the win- dow, was recognised ; the person who made this dis- covery was eager to give it immediate proclamation, but he was prevented by the mayor, who was a steady royalist. When the roj-al familj'^ arrived at Pont-de- Sommeville, the detachments which ought to have received it there were not visible : those detachments had been in waiting for several hours, but tlie ferment of the people, who were alarmed at this military dis- play, had obliged them to retire. However, the king proceeded to Saiute-Menehould. There, still persist- ing m thrusting his head out of the carriage, he was perceived by Drouet, the postmaster's son, and a zealous revolutionist. This yoiuig man, not ha\ing time to procure the arrest of the carriage at Sainte- Menehould, instantly started for Varennes. A loyal quartermaster, who had observed his eagerness, and suspected his design, liastened in pursuit to stop him, but was unable to overtake him. Drouet used such diligence, that he reached Varennes before the unfor- tunate family. He immediately aroused the munici- pality, and caused the necessary measures for the arrest to be taken without delay. Varennes is built on the banks of a narrow but deep stream. A detach- ment of hussars was placed there on guard; but its officer, seeing no prospect of the money arriving for which he had been sent to watch, had permitted the soldiers to retire into quarters. The carriage at length arrived, and passed the bridge. So soon as it came under an arch beneath wliich it could move but slowly, Drouet, seconded by another individual, seized the horses' heads : " Your passport !" he exclaimed, and presenting a musket, he threatened to fire if the tra- vellers persisted in advancing. They obeyed tlie call, and tlie passport was delivered. Drouet took posses- sion of it, and saying that the attorney of the commune was the proper person to examine it, the royal family was conducted to the house of that personage, whose name was Sausse. This official, after inspecting the passport, pretended to find it regular, and, with many polite expressions, begged the king to wait. He had to wait in trutli a pretty long time. When Sausse was at length assured that a sufficient number ol V// HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 93 national guards had been collected, he threw off all dissimulation, and declared to the king that he was known and under arrest. A dispute ensued : Louis alleged he was not the person they supposed ; and the contest growing somewhat too warm — " Since you acknowledge him for your king," exclaimed the queen, losing all patience, " speak to him with the respect you owe him." The king, finding all denial useless, ceased to dis- semble any longer. The little room was full of people ; he spoke to them, and expressed himself with more energy than was usual with him. He made protesta- tion of his good intentions, assuring tliem tliat his only object in going to Montmedy was to learn with more freedom the wishes of the people, by removing from the thraldom of Paris ; in conclusion, he urged them to allow him to continue his progress, and even to con- duct him to tlie end of his journey. The unfortu- nate prince, in the deepest emotion, embraced Sausse, and asked at his hands the safety of his consort and his chilth-en : the queen joined her entreaties to the king's, and taking the dauphin in her arms, conjured Sausse to save them. The attorney was touched, but he resisted the impulse, and begged them to return to Paris in order to prevent a civil war. The king, on the contrary, dismayed at the iilea of returning, was urgent in his desire to proceed towards Montmedy. In the mean time, Messieurs de Damas and de Goque- las had arrived with the detachments stationed at various points. The royal family looked upon itself as delivered; but the hussars proved that the con- fidence reposed in them was misplaced. The ofiicers drew them up, and annomiced to them that the king and his family were arrested, and that it was tlieir duty to rescue them ; but they answered that they were for the nation. At this jiuicture, tlie national guards, summoned from all the surrounding districts, pom-ed in and filled Varennes. The whole night was passed in this state. At six in the morning, young Romeuf arrived, bearing the decree of tlie assembly : he found the carriage harnessed with six horses, and turned towards Paris. He ascended to tlie room occupied by the captives, and delivered the decree. Exclamations from the whole family arose against M. Lafayette, that he should thus provoke their arrest. The queen seemed even astonished, perhaps sorry, that he had not perished at the hands of the people. Romeuf observed that his general and he had c.nly done their duty in pursuing tliem, but they had hoped not to overtake them. The queen snatched hold of tlie decree, tln-ew it upon her children's bed, and then cauglit it off again, saying it would defile them. " Madam," said Romeuf, who was nmch devoted to her, " would you ratlier prefer that some other than I should witness these passionate emotions ?" The queen immediately re- sumed all her self-possession and dignity. At tlie same moment, the arrival of various detachments, placed in the vicinity by Bouille, was annomiced. But the muni- cipality ordered the instant departure; and the royal family was obliged to seat itself in the carriage, and retake the route to Paris — that fatal and so dreaded route. Bouille, having learnt what had occurred at Va- rennes in the middle of the night, had immediately called a regiment to horse, and set off with sliouts of " Long live the king!" This brave and faithful gene- ral jiroceeded in great disquietude, at a rajjid pace, and covered nine leagues in four hours. Ho reached Varennes, where he found several detaclmients as- sembled; but the king had left an hour and a half before. The town itself was barricaded, and like- wise defended by certain excellent precautions, for the bridge had been broken down, and the river was not fordable. TUus, to effect the king's rescue, liouillc must first of all have made a vigorous assault to carry the barricades, then have crossed the river, and after so great a loss of time have succeeded in overtaking the carriage, which was already an hour and a half in advance. These obstacles rendered any effort im- possible ; and nothing less was needed than such an impossibility to stop a man so devoted and so enter- prising as Bouille. He consequently retreated to his quarters, with a heart torn by deep regret and sor- row. Wlien the arrest of the kmg was known at Paris, he was imagined to have been beyond the reach of pursuit. The people experienced an indescribable joy at the intelligence. The assembly deputed three commissioners, taken from the tliree sections of the left side, to accompany the monarch, and reconduct him to Paris. Those commissioners were Barnave, Latour-Maubourg, and Petion. Tliey repaired to Chalons ; and from the moment of their junction with the royal family, all orders emanated from them alone. Madame de Tourzel removed into another carriage, and followed, in company with Latour-Maubourg. Barnave and Petion got into the royal carriage. Latour-Maubourg, a man of distinguished merit, was a friend of Lafayette, and, like him, equally attaclied to the king and the constitution. In yielding to his two colleagues the honour of sitting with the royal family, he v.'as actuated by a wish to interest them in behalf of fallen greatness. Barnave seated himself iii the back of the carriage, between the king and the queen; Petion in the front, between the Princess Elizabeth and the princess-royal. The young dauphin rested alternately upon the knees of his relatives. How striking an evidence of the rapidity with which events had flowed ! A young advocate, twenty and some years old, remarkaljle only for his talents ; another, distinguished by his acquirements, but espe- cially by the rigorous sternness of his principles, were sitting alongside a prince, shortly ago the most abso- lute in Europe, and commanding aU his motions ! The journey was performed very slowly, because the carriage followed the march of the national giiards. Eight daj's were consumed between Varennes and Paris. The weather was extremely sultry, and a scorching dust, raised by the crowd, suffocated the wretched travellers. A t first a dead silence prevailed as the coach moved tediously along, and the queen took little pains to disguise her annoyance. The king at length began a conversation with Barnave. Their discourse referred to various topics, and ultimately to the flight of the monarch. Both were astonished at the discovery of each other's qualities. The queen ■was greatly surprised at the superior intellect and delicate politeness of the young Barnave ; she shortly threw back her veil, and took part in the conversa- tion. Barnave, on his part, was touched with the goodness of the king, and the gracefid dignity of the queen. Petion displayed infinite surliness ; he evinced and obtained much less consideration. On concluding tlieir journey, Barnave had become attached to this unfortunate family ; and the queen, charmed with the merit and good sense of the young tribune, had formed for him a high esteem."' Consequently, in the rela- * The particulars of the return from Varennes, as related to Mudaiuc Canipaji by the queen herself, are interestiiiij enough to ho recorded. " On the very day of my arrival, the queen c;illcd nie into hei cahir.et to tell me she woiilil require my assistance in the com- munications she had .established with Barnave, Duport, and Ali'xander Lameth. She informed me that M. J was her aKctit with these renmants of the constitutional party, whose [{i)')d intentions wore luifortunatoly so taniily evinced ; and s;iid that Barnave w:us u man calculated to command esteem. 1 was astonished at lieju'inp; the name of Barnave pronounced with so much pood feeling. At the time I loft Paris, many persons spoke of him only «itli hoi-ror. I made this remark to the queen ; she was not surprised at it, but told me he was much changed ; that this ynuiig man, of high accomplishments and noble scnti- nu'iits, was of that class of men distinguished for education, and only misled by an ambition which springs from real merit. ' A feeling of i)ride, which I c;m scarcely blame in a young man of the i)lcbcian order,' .saiii the queen, with reference to Barnave, ' has led him to applaud .ill that might smooth the road to honourb HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. tions she afterwards had with the constitutional de- puties, she always placed the most confidence ui Bar- nave. Parties would often forgive each other, if they could come to mutuid and frank explanations. and glon,- for the class in which he was born: if power should ever retuVn to us, the pardon of Uamave is WTitten beforeliand in our hearts.' Slie added tliat it was far diiTercnt with regard to tlie nobl'js wlio haths ; and never did they evince more address, courage, and talent. Barnave dictated the king's answer to the commissioners named by the assembly. In that document, Louis XVI. grounded his flight upon the desire to learn more accurately the state of public opinion, which he alleged to have closely studied during his journey ; and he demonstrated by a series of facts that it was never his intention to leave France. As to the protests contained in his memorial delivered to the assembly, he said, with much reason, that they bore, not upon the fun- damental principles of the constitution, but upon the means of execution wliich were permitted him. "Now," he added, " that the general desire was made manifest to him, he did not hesitate to submit to it, and to make all the sacriiices necessary for the gene- ral welfare."* * The following is the answer itself, the production of B;u-nave, and a fine model of argument, tact, and dignity : — " I find, gentlemen," said Louis XVI. to the commissioners, " an examination is not involved in the objects of the mission confided to you ; but I am anxious to meet the wishes of the assembly. I shall never be afraid of declaring publicly the motives of ray conduct. The outrages and threats, then, which were heaped on my family and myself, on the 18th April, were the causes of my departure from Paris. In various publications attempts were made to excite violence against my person and my f;miily. I thought that neither safety nor decency could be expected by me if I remained any longer in this citj'. It was never my intention to quit the kingdom. For such an object I had no phui concerted, either with foreign powers, or with my relatives, or with any of the emigrant Frenchmen. I can allege, as a proof of my inten- tions, that apartments were prepared for my reception at Mout- medy. I had selected that town, because, being fortified, my family would be there in greater security, and because, being near the frontier, I would have been in a better position to oppose every species of invasion, if any had been attempted, of France. One of my principal motives in quitting Paris was to destroy the argument foimded on my not being free, which might furnish an occasion for troubles. If I had designed to leave the kingdom, I would not have published my memorial the very day of my departure ; I would have waited until I was beyond the frontiers : but I always retained the desire of returning to Paris. It is in this sense that the last phrase of my memorial is to be under- stood, in which it is said : ' French-jicn, and you Parisians espe- cially, what pleasure shall I not experience in being again amongst you !' I had in my can-iage only three thousand livres in gold, and fifty-six thousand livres in assignats. I apprised Monsieur of my intended departure but a very short time previously. Monsieur has proceeded into a foreign country only because it was agreed between us that we should not pursue the same route— he was to return into France and join me. The passport was necessary to facilitate my journey. It was made out for a foreign country only because passports are not given at the foreign office for the interior of the kingdom. The road to Frankfort was, in fact, not followed. I have not made any protest except in the memorial which I left before my departure. That protest does not refer, as the con- text proves, to the fundamental princijiles of the constitution, but to the fomi of the sanctions; that is to say, to the little liberty I seemed to enjoy, and to the fact that, forasmuch as the decrees had not been presented altogether, I could not judge of the entire constitution. The principal objection adduced in the memorial refers to tlie difficulties of administration aixl execu- tion. I have ascertained, in the course of my journey, that i)ul)lie opinion has decided in favour of tlic constitution ; I think I could not have fully learned this public opinion in Paris; but, from the ideas that I h.ave personally gathered during my journey, I am convinced how necessary it is to the maintenance of the consti- tution to give strength to the powers established for the preserva- tion of public order. The moment I ascertained the general will, I did not hesitate, nor have I ever hesitated, to m.ake the sacrifice of all tliat personally concerned me. The happiness of the people luis over been the object of my wishes. I will willingly bury in oblivion all the annoyances I have suffered, if I can secure peace and prosperity to the nation." Bouille, with the view of drawing on his head the whole rage of the assembly, addressed to it a letter, which might be called insane, if the generous motive which prompted it were not considered. He avowed himself the sole instigator of the king's journey, v.diilst he had in fact opposed it ; and he declared, in the name of the allied sovereigns, that Paris should answer for the safety of the royal family, and that the least injury perpetrated on it should be avenged m a signal manner. He added, what he knew to be inconsistent with met, that the military resources of France were utterly exhaiisted ; furthermore, that he was ac- quainted with the waj's of invasion, and woidd him- self conduct the foreign armies into the bosom of his country. The assembly lent itself to this generous bravado, and threw the whole odium upon Bouille, who had nothing to fear, as he had already passed to the enemy. The court of Spain, apprehensive that the slightest hostile demonstration might exasperate the French, and expose the royal family to greater dangers, stop- ped an enterprise prepared on the southern frontier, and which the Knights of Malta were to assist with two frigates. It subsequently declared to the French government that its friendly dispositions Avere un- changed. The northern powers conducted themselves with less reserve : excited by the emigrants, they assiuned a threatening tone. Envoys were dispatched by the king to Brussels and Co))lentz, whose mission was to attempt an understanding with the emigrants, to communicate to them the friendly spirit of the assembly, and the hope that had been generally con- ceived of the possibility of an advantageous arrange- ment. But no soon.or had they arrived, than they were outrageously insulted, and they immediately re- turned to Paris. The emigrants levied troops in the king's name, and thus compelled him to give a formal disavowal. They pretended that Monsieur, then with them, was regent of the kingdom ; and that the king, being a prisoner, had no longer a will of his own ; and that what he stated was merely the forced expression of his oppressors' suggestions. The peace Ijetween Catherine and the Turks, which was concluded in tlte month of August, tended to raise their joy to stiU more absurd heights ; and they concluded that all the powers of Europe were at their disposition. When they reflected on the dismantling of the fortified places, and the disorganisation of the armj-, abandoned by all its officers, they could not doubt that an inva- sion must be speedily made, and nmst succeed. And yet, nearly two years were gone since they liad qiiitted France ; and in spite of their daily sanguine hopes they had not yet returned as conquerors, according to their flattering anticipations. The powers seemed to promise much : but Pitt was waiting events ; Leo- pold, exhausted by war, and discontented with the emigrants, was disposed to peace ; the King of Prussia, certainly, held out hopes, but he had little interest in gratifying them ; Gustavns was eager to lead an ex- pedition against Franco, but was at an inconvenient distance ; and Catherine, who might have assisted him, though delivered from the Turks, had Poland to keep in sul)jection. ]?csides, in ord>er to effect sudi a coalition, so many interests required to be brouglit into harmonj^ that it needed a sanguine temperament to anticipate success in such a scheme. The declaration of Pilnitz ought especially to have opened the eyes of the emigrants as to the zeal of flic sovereigns.* That declaration, jiublislied conjointly by the King of Prussia and the Emperor Leopold, iiiqjorted tliat the situation of the King of France was a matter of conunon interest to all monarchs, and that they Avere imperiously called upon to exert their united powers to assure Louis XVL the means of es- tablishing a government conformable to the interests of the throne and the people. Upon that principle, the King of Prussia and the emperor expressed their * The declaration of Pilnitz is dated the 27th August 17»1. 96 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. readiness to co-operate with other princes to effect that desirable object. In tlie mean time, their forces were to be prepared for offensive operations when the emergency arrived. It was afterwards known that this declaration contained certain secret articles, to the effect that Austria should oppose no obstacle to the pretensions of Prussia to a part of Poland. Such an inducement was needed to draw Prussia into an abandonment of her ancient pruiciples, and into a lea',nie with Austria against France. ^Vhat could be expected from a zcid which it was necessary to sti- nmlate by such bribes ? And if it were so reserved and cautious in the expressions, was it not sure to be eciually so in the acts whereby it should manifest itself? France, it is true, was disarmed, but a whole nation on the alert is soon in arms ; and, as the cele- brated Carnot said somewhat later, " What is there impossible to twenty-five millions of men ?" True it was, the oflScers were retiring ; but they for the most part were beardless youths, promoted by favour, utterly without experience, and objects of hatred and con- tempt to the soldiers. Besides, the spirit imparted to all minds was soon to produce officers and generals. But, at the same time, it must be confessed that, with- out possessing the presumption so rife at Coblentz, it was not unreasonable to doubt that the resistance to be made by France to invasion would be so powerful as it subsequently proved. The assembly, in the interim, sent commissioners to the frontiers,' and ordered great preparations. All the national guards demanded to be led against the enemy; several generals offered their services, and, amongst others, Dumouriez, who subsequently saved France in the defiles of the Argonne. Whilst directing its serious consideration to the externid safety of the state, the assembly did not in- termit its labours in perfecting the constitutional act, nor the less hasten to restore to the king his func- tions, and, if it might be possible, some of his prero- gatives. All the subdivisions of the left side, except the men who had recently taken the new name of Republicans, ha 1 merged into one party of moderation. Barnave and Malouet walked hand in hand, and worked in companionship. Petion, Robespierre, Buzot, and some others, had adopted the republic as their motto ; but they were few in number. The right side continued its impruerinient too full of hazard. To change the dynasty was worse than useless, for if a king were to Ik.', the one they had was as good as any other : the Duke of Orleans was certainly unworthy to be pre- ferred to Louis XVI. In either case, to dispossess the actual monarch, was to contemn recognised rights, and disjjatch to the emigration a chief most precious for its purposes, since he would have borne it sanctions wliich it had not On the other hand, to restore his authority to Louis XVI., to confer on him as great an extent of prerogative as was expedient, was to fulfil the constitutional intent, and remove all pretext for civil war; in a word, it was to i):Tform its duty, for the duty of the iissembly, according to the engage- ments by which it had become Ixjund, was to establish a free, but monarchical, government. The assemlily did not hesitate, but it had great obstacles to overcome. The new word Republic, had quickened the minds of men, already somewhat sickened of the old phrases. Monarchy and Constitu- tion. The absence and suspension of the king had, as wo have previously stated, shown that he was not indispensable. The newspapers and the clubs soon laid aside the respect with which his person had been hitherto treated. His departure, which, according to tlie terms of the decree upon the residence of func- tionaries, rendered forfeiture exigible, supplied the argument that he was actually dethroned. Still, ac- cording to that decree, withdrawal beyond the kmg- dom and contumacy to the summons of the legislative bodj' were necessary for absolute forfeiture ; but such distinctions were little heeded by enthusiastic minds ; and they unhesitatingly asserted that the king was an offender against the law, and had incurred its penalty. The Jacobins and Cordeliers agitated the question with extreme violence, and refused to under- stand how, after getting rid of the king, the nation should again and volmitarily impose him on itself. If the Duke of Orleans had formed expectations, now was the time for their realisation. But he coxild not avoid perceiving what little influence his name pos- sessed, and how little in accordance -vvith the state of opinion was a new sovereign at all, howsoever popu- lar he might be. Some pamplileteers in his interest, probably without his sanction, endeavoured, like An- tony towards Caesar, to put the crown upon his head : they proposed to give him the regency ; but he felt himself obliged to repudiate the proposition by a declaration which was as little regarded as his per- son. " No more kings ! " was the general cry at the Jacobins', at the Cordeliers', in public places, and in the journals. Numerous addresses were published. Amongst the rest was one affixed to all the walls of Paris, and even to those of the assembly. It bore the signature of Achille Duchatelet, a young colonel. It was addressed to the French ; it reminded them of the tranquillity they had enjoyed during the absence of the monarch, whence it drew the inference that it was more advan- tageous than his presence; adding that his desertion was an abdication, and that the nation and Louis XVI. were reUeved from all obligation towards each other; finallj', that history was full of the crimes of kings, and that it behoved them to avoid giving themselves one again. This address, attributed to young Achille Duch.nte- let, was the production of Thomas Paine, an English- man, and a principal actor in the American revolution. It was denounced to the assembly, which, after warm debates, deemed it expedient to pass to the order of the day, and treat with indifference seditious appeals and attacks, as it had always done. The commissioners charged to report upon the affair of "\^arennes, at length presented the result of their deliberations, on the 16th July. The journey, they said, involved nothing of a criminal nature, and, had it done so, the king was inviolable. Nor could forfeiture be judged to have resulted, since the king had not remained absent for a sufficient length of time, and had not resisted the summons of the legis- lative body. Robespierre, Petion, and Buzot, reiterated all the usual arguments against inviolability ; Dui)ort, Bar- nave, and Salles, replied to them; and it was ulti- mately decreed that the king could not be brought mider Jiccusation for the offence of flight. Two articles were merely added to the decree of inviolability. So soon as this decision was pronounced, Robespierre arose, and entered his solemn protest in the name of humanity On the evening which preceded this decision, there was a great tumult at the Jacobins. A petition was drawn up, addressed to the assembly, calling upon it to declare the king deposed, as a traitor faithless to his oaths, and to provide for his substitution by all constitutional means. It was resolved that this peti- tion should be carried the next day to the Champ de Mars, and laid on the altar of the country for signatures. Accordingly, it was borne in the morning to the place agreed upon; and the crowd of the seditious was swelled by that of the curious, who desired to witness HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. the ceremony. By this time the decree was already passed, aiid therefore no occasion existed for any peti- tion. Lafayette arrived, broke do^vn the barricades already raised, had execrations and threats hm-led abundantly at his head, and, finally, a shot fired at him, which, although discharged with deliberate aim, passed harmlesslj' by. The municipal ofiicers having come to his aid, ultimately prevailed on the populace to disperse. The national guards were placed so as to observe their retreat, and for a moment hopes were entertained they would quietly separate ; but the tumult shortly recommenced. Two invalids standing, it is unknown for what pm-pose, under the altar of the country, were massacred, and thereupon the dis- order became universal and boundless. The assembly summoned the municipality, and charged it to watch over public order. Bailly repaired to the Champ de Mars, and iinfolded the red flag, in token of martial law. The employment of force, whatever may have been alleged, was just and indispensable. New laws were desired, or tliey were not : if they were desired, it was necessary they should be executed ; that some fixed and settled order should prevail; that insurrec- tion should not be perpetual, and that the determina- tions of the assembly sliould not be open to modifica- tion by the ple()is-sci*a* of the multitude. Bailly was, therefore, justified in adoptingall means to secure the execution of the laws. He advanced with that calm courage which he had always evinced, received with- out injury some shots, and attempted in vain, amidst the din and uproar, to make the necessary summonses. Lafayette at first ordered the national guards to fire in the air ; at this menace the crowd abandoned the altar, but soon rallied again. Thus reduced to extre- mity, he issued his orders to fire on the multitude. The first discharge laid low certain of the most sedi- tious. Their number was exaggerated. Some have reduced it to thirty, others have raised it to four hundred, and the furious to some thousands. The latter were believed at the time, and a general terror was infused. So severe an example silenced the agi- tators for a period, t As usual, all parties were accused of having excited this movement ; and it is probable that several had co-operated in provoking it, f«jr it was convenient for several. The king, the majority of the assembly, the national guard, the municipal and departmental autho- rities, were aU in concert to establish the constitutional order of things ; and they had to comljat democracy within and aristocracy without. The assembly and the national guards composed that middle class, wealthy, enlightened, and prudent, who desired order and the supremacy of law ; and under existing circumstances, they were naturally disposed to ally closely with tlie king, who, on his part, appeared cordially resigned to a limited authority. But if it suited them to stop at the point already reached, it was far otherwise with the aristocracy, which rested its hopes on discord and confusion ; and with the populace, which was eager to gain more and rise higher. Barnave, as formerly Mirabeau, was the orator of that well-informed and moderate burgher class, and Lafayette its military chief. Danton and Camille-Desmoulins were the orators, and Santerre the general, of that multitude, anxious for suprenuicy in its turn. A few ardent or fanatical spirits were its representatives, as well in the assembly as in the new administrative bodies, and accelerated the era of its reign by tiieir declama- tions. The massacre of the Champ de Mars was the occa- sion of nmch obloquy to Lafayette and Bailly. But both, placing their duty on the ol)servati()n of the law, and ready to sacrifice their popularity and lives in its enforcement, felt neither remorse nor fear for what the}- had done. The energy which they manifested awed * [Laws Tiifide by the people alone, without tlie senate, in tlio Roman rcpulilic, were tlius callcil.] t This event occurred on the evening of Simday the 17th July. the factious. The most prominent sought to shelter themselves from the punishment they deemed in store for them. Robespierre, who had hitherto supported the most violent propositions, trembled in his obscure dwelling ; and, notwithstanding his inviola])ility as a deputy, besought an asylum from all his friends. Thus the example was not without eifect ; and, for a time, all the turbulent spirits were kept in check by their fears. The assembly adopted at this period a determination which has been since greatly censured, but which was not so disastrous in its consequences as has been thought. It decreed that none of its members should be re-elected. Robespierre was the author of the pro- position ; and it was accomited for in him by the envy he felt towards colleagues amongst whom he had never distinguished himself. It was at least natural that he shoidd bear them no good will, since he had been always embroiled with them ; and in his feelings on the question, there might lie at once conviction, envy, and malice. The assembly, accused as it was of a desire to perpetuate its power, and, furthermore, out of favour with the multitude for its moderation, hastened to repel all attacks by a disinterestedness perhaps too exaggerated, by deciding that its members should be excluded from the succeeding legislatnre. The new assembly was thus deprived of men whose enthusiasm was somewhat sobered, and whose legislative science had ripened in an experience of three years. But, when we treat of the causes of the subsequent revolu- tions, we shall be better enabled to judge what weight should be attached to that measure so often reprobated. The time was at length arrived for concluding the constitutional labours, and closing in tranquillity so stormy a career. Certain members of the left side entertained the project of agreeing to a compromise, in order to remodel certain parts of the constitution. It had been resolved that the whole should be read over, so that it might be judged of in the aggregate, and its various articles made to harmonise ; this was called the revision, and afterwards, in the days of republican fervour, was regarded as a culpable proceeding. Bar- nave and the Lameths had agreed with Malouet to modify certain articles framed in a hostile spirit to the royal prerogative, and to what was stj-led the stability of the throne. It was even alleged that they designed to re-establish the two chambers. It was arranged that, immediately after the perusal was finished, Ma- louet sliould make his attack, and that Barnave should afterwards reply to him with vehemence, the better to mask his real views ; but that, whilst defending the major part of the articles, he should give up some as palpably dangerous, and condemned bj-^ the test of experience. Sucli were the stipulated conditions of this compact, when the ridicndous and irritating pro- tests of the right side were made, in which it resolved to abstain from giving any future votes. Thenceforth all accommodation -was out of the question : the left side woiild listen to no further overtures ; and when the attempt was made, according to agreement, the shouts which rose from all parts prevented Malouet and his friends from proceeding.* The constitution * rSouilld had an intimate friend in the Count do Gouvernet ; and although tlieir opinions were far from comiilctcly coinciding, tliey had a great esteem for cacli other. IJouilkS who pays littk; respect to the constitutionalists, expresses himself in the most Iionourable terms when he speaks of M. do Gouvernet, and seems to place entire confidence in him. To give an idea of what was passing in the assembly at this period, he cites the following letter in his memoirs, \vTitten to himself by the Count de Gou- vernet, on the 26th August 1701 : — "I had given you hopes which I have now lost. That fatal constitution, which was intended to be revised, ameliorated, will not be so. It will remain as it is, a code of anarchy, a source of caUamity; and onr unfortunate destiny wills it that at the moment the democrats themselves become sensible of a portion of their errors, it is the aristocrats who, by refusing their aid, oppose the reparation. To enable you to understand the matter, and to justify myself in your eyes for having' possibly given you 98 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. was therefore concluded with some haste, and pre- sented to the kinu' for liis acceptance. From that moment liis hherty was restored, or, if the pliraso be more suitable, the strict guard on the palace was re- laxed, and he hadjwwer to go where he chose to study the constitutional act, and accept it with free will. But what course was open to Louis X VL ? To refuse the constitution was to abdicate in favour of a republic. The most sure, even ui)on his own system, was to accept, and trust to time for those restitutions of power which he conceived due to him. Accordingly, after the lapse of some days, he declared that the constitu- tion was accepted by him (IStli September). An ex- traordinary joy was evinced wlien this intelligence was pronmlgated, as if any red obstacle had been feared on the part of the king, or as if his sanction had been some unhoped-for concession. He repaired false hopes, I must recur to things somewhat st,ale, and tell j-ou all that has passeil, since I have to-iliiy a safe opi)ortunity for writing to you. On tlie day and the uinrrow of the king's departure, the two sides of tlie assonibly remained in observation upon their respec- tive movements. The i)opuhir p:u-ty was in gi'cat consternation ; the royalist piirty in gieut uneasiness. The least indiscretion niiglit arouse the fury of the people. AU the members of the right side kept silence, and tliose of the left side intrusted to their leaders the projmsition of measures which they called 'of sufdy,' and which were opposed by no one. Tlie second day after the depar- ture, the .Tacobins became threatening, and the constitutionalists modenite. They were tlien, and stUl are, much more numerous than the Jacobins. They spoke of acconnnodation, and of a deputation to the king. Two of them proposed a conference to >I. .Malouet, which was to have been opened the nextday; but in the mean time the king's arrest became known, and the idea was dropped. However, their sentiments liavingbcen thus manifested, they saw themselves more than ever separated from the furious. The return of IJarnave ; the respect he had evinced towards the king and queen, whilst the ferocious Petion insulted their misfortunes; the gratitude their majesties testified to Barnave, cluuiged in some sort the heart of that yoimg man, hitherto steeled to pity. He is, as you laiow, tlie most culpable,* and one of the most influential in his party. He had, therefore, rallied around Iiini four-tifths of the 1 -ft side, not only to save the king from the fury of the Jacobins, but to restore him a portion of his authority, and likewise to give him means for defending himself in future, whilst adhering to the constitutional line of conduct. Of this latter piirt of Bamavc's plan, only Lameth and Duport were apprised, for tlie constitutional mass still inspired sufficient dis- trust to render them uncertain of the majority of the a-ssembly, except they could reckon on the right side ; and they thouglit they might reasonably rely on it, when, in the revision of their constitution, they should grunt more latitude to the royal autho- rity. Such was the state of things when I vTote to you. But fully convinced as I was of the infatuation and continual blunders of the aristocrats, I confess I did not foresee to what lengths tiiey could push their absurdity. When it was known that the king had been stopped at Varennes, the right side, in secret coimcil, resolved to vote no more, nor to take any further part in the deliberations or debates of the assembly. JIalouet was opposed to th.at determination. lie represented to them that so long as the session lasted, and they assisted in its labours, they were imder an obligation to give active opposition to measures dangerous to public order, and inimical to the fundamental principles of the monarchy. All his arginnents were thrown away: they persisted in their resolution, and secretly drew up a protest against all that ha„ x Jt Hthuliur^ HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 101 his simplest actions, that he was sincerely attached to it. These three members of the late assembly, in coalition with Lafoyette since the revision, were the leaders of that revolutionary generation which had given the first rules to liberty, and now desired that they might not be departed from. They were sup- ported by the national guard, which long service un- der Lafayette had completely attached to that general and his principles. The members of the Constituent Assembly conunitted the indiscretion of holding in disdain the new assembly, and of irritating it by fre- quent sarcasms. A species of aristocratic vanity had already seized upon these first legislators, and they seemed to imagine that all legislative science had dis- appeared with them. The new assembly was composed of different classes of men. It included many enlightened partisans of the first revolution, Ramond, Girardin, Vaublanc, Dumas, and othei"s, who denominated themselves constitutionalists, and occupied the right side, where not one of the old privileged classes was foimd. Thus, in the natural and progressive march of the revolution, the left side of the first assembly became the right side of the second. Next to the consti- tutionalists was a numerous body of distinguished men, whose imaginations the revoh'.tion had heated, and enlarged the scope of their desires. Witnesses of the constituent labours, and tormented by the im- liatience common to those who contemplate ethers in action, they were of opinion that not sufficient bad been accomplished ; they dared not avow them- selves republicans, because from all parts came recom- mendations to be faithful to the constitution ; but the republican essay made during the flight of Louis XVI., and the suspected intentions of the court, perpetually brought the idea to their minds ; and the state of constant hostility in which they found themselves with respect to the court, was calculated to attach them more strongly to it every day. In this new generation of talents, those who princi- pally attracted observation were the deputies from the department of the Gironde, v/lience the whole party, though formed by men from all the depart- ments, was called the Girondist. Condorcet, an author distinguished for great comprehensiA'eness of ideas, and for the extremely rigorous cast of his mind and character, was its journalist ; and Vergniaud, a ready, elegant, and sediictive speaker, was its orator. This party, continually augmented by all who gave up the court in despair, was far from looking forward to such a republic as fell to it in 1793 ; it dreamt of a republic with all its alluring concomitants, its virtues, and aus- tere manners. Enthusiasm and vehemence may be said to have been its chief characteristics. This party hkewise was destined to have its ex- treme members. These were, Bazire, Chabot, Merlin de Thionville, and others; inferior in talent, tliej' sur- passed the otlier Girondists in audacity. They became the party of the Mountain, when, after the overthrow of the throne, tiiey seceded from the Gironde. Finally, this second assembly had, lilce the first, an intermedi- ate mass, which, without any fixed engagement, vot«d first with one and then with the other. Under the (Constituent Assembly, in whioh liberty really reigncid, a shnilar body had remained independent; but since it had done so not through energy but from a spirit of indifference, in the subsequent assemblies, where violence raged uncontrolled, it became cowardly and despicable, and received the contemptuous and dis- graceful epithet of " the Bclh/." The clubs acquired at tliis period still greater im- portance. Agitators under the Constituent, they be- came dominators under the Legislative Assembly. The National Assembly not being numerous enough to embody all the ambitious spirits in tlic community, they had flocked to the clubs, where they found a tri- bune and scenes of excitement. To those resorts thronged all who were eager to speak, to agitate, to stimulate — that is to say, almost the entire nation. The people ran to so novel a spectacle ; they occupied the galleries of all the meetings, and began about this time to find it a lucrative occupation, since the system of paying for applauses was now introduced. The minister Bertrand confesses that he liimself had paid for them. The oldest of the clubs, that of the Jacobins, already exercised an extraordinary infiuence. A whole church scarcely sufficed to contain the crowd of members and auditors. An immense amphitheatre was reared in form of a circus, and occupied all the great nave of the Jacobin church. A desk was placed in the centre, at which a president and secretaries were seated. A regular sj^stem of voting was pursued, and the deci- sions were recorded in a register. An active corres- pondence kept up the zeal of the societies spread over the whole surface of France, which were styled afli- liated societies. This club, from its longer existence and its persevering violence, had invariably succeeded over aU those who had attempted to inculcate more moderate, or even more vehement, counsels. The Lameths, together with all the distinguished men it contained, had al>andoned it after the return from Varennes, and joined the Feuillants. In this latter were amalgamated all the essayists at moderate clubs, the attempts to form which had always been unsuc- cessful, inasm.uch as they proceeded in direct contra- diction to the spirit which prompts recourse to clubs, that of agitation. To the Feuillants were at that time joined the constitutionalists, or partisans of the first revolution. Hence the name of Feuillant became a passport to proscription, when that of moderate was one.* Another club, that of the Cordeliers, had endea- voured to rival the Jacobins in violence. Camille- Desmoulins was its journalist, and Danton its leader. This latter, who had failed at the bar, had neverthe- less known how to win the favour of the multitude, whom he strongly interested by Ids athletic frame, his sonorous voice, and his passions, so essentially popular. The Cordeliers had not been able, even by the aid of superior exaggeration, to prevail over theh' rivals, to whom custom secm-ed a gi'eat concourse ; but they were at the same time almost all members of the Jaco- bin chib, and when any important point rendered it necessary, they repaired thither at the heels of Dan- ton, to determine the majority in his favour. Robespierre, whom we have seen during the Con- stituent Assembly distingTiished for the rigorous violence of his i)rinciples, was excluded froni the Legislative Assembly by the decree of non re-elec- tion, which he had himself contributed to have passed. He thenceforth confined liimself to the Jacobins, where he ruled without a rival, fron.i the dogmatism of his opinions, and from a reputation for integrity, which had procured him the name of " the incorrup- tible." Paralysed with terror, as Ave have seen, at the time of the revision, he had since plucked up fresh corn-age, and now prosecuted with unremitting atten- tion the work of popularity. He had encountered two competitors whom he began to hate with great cordiality, namely, Brissot and Lou vet. Brissot, who had mingled with all the most distinguished members * [Bertrand Rives tlie following nccount of the Feuillant Club : — " It w:'.3 chiefly couiposeil of the remains of the constitutional party of the first assembly, of the members of tlie Legislative Assembly, wlio had adopted similar opinions, and of a sm.all number of moderate royalists, who, although they did not in this association find principles as pure as their own, considered it nevertheless as favourable to royalty, front the mere circumstance of its being opposed to Jacobinism, hoping that it might one day become a rallying point to the royalists who had not emigrated, and who, having no means of uniting, could offer to the king only a barren zeal and unavailing wishes. The motto of theelub was, The cniisiiluUon, the irhole conftilution, and nothhici hut the cnn.iti- tulion." — Vol. v. p. 2fH). Such a rallying cry has been known in the history of Oither countries besides that of France.] II 102 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. of the first assembly, being the friend of Mirabeau and Lafayette, known as a republican, and one of the most eminent members of the Lef,'islative, was fickle in character, but remarkable for certain intellectual qualities. Louvet. possessing great warmth of tem- perament, high mentid powers, and unflinching bold- ness, formed one of those, who, overstepping the constitution, looked forward to a republic ; he, there- fore, naturally found himself drawn towards the Girondists. His contests with Robespierre soon at- tached him more closely to them. This party of the Gironde, graxlually foriiicd, as it were unintentionally, by men who had t(J0 much loftiness of mind to propi- tiate the populace, but were sufBciently distinguislied to raise its envy and that of its leaders, and who were rather united "by similarity of position than from actual concert, was, from its comi)osition, sure to be brilliant but likewise weak, and incapable of standing before the more real factions which sprung up around it when the day of battle came. Such, then, was tlie state of France. The old pri- vileged classes had retired beyond the Rhine ; the partisans of the constitution filled the riyht of the assembly, the national guard, and the Feuillant club ; the Girondists had the majority in the assembly, but not in tlie clubs, wliere vulgar violence reigned supreme; finally, the hotheads of this new epoch, seated on the highest benches in the assembly, and on that account called the Mountain, were all-power- ful in the clubs and over the populace. Lafayette, having resigned all military rank, had been accompanied to his estate by the esteem and regret of his companions in arms. The command hfS not been delegated to a new general, but six heads of legions commanded in turns the whole na- tional guard. Bailly, the faithful friend of Lafayette during these three painful years, likewise abdicated the mayoralty. The votes of the electors were divided between Lafayette and Pction ; but the court, de- termined to support Lafayette upon no consideration, although his sentiments were favourable to it, pre- ferred Pction, although an avowed republican. It an- ticipated much good from a sort of coldness wliich it took for stupidity, but was something very ditferent; and it lavished large sums to secure him a majority.* He obtained it in consequence, and M'as nominated mayor of Paris (17th November). Pction, with a cul- tivated mind, cold but deliberate in conviction, and possessed of much address, invariably aided the re- publicans in opposition to the court, and became linked to the Gironde from conformity of views, and the envy his new dignity excited amongst the Jaco- bins. However, notwithstanding these dispositions of parties, if the king could have been relied upon, it is possible that the distrust of the Girondists might have been subdued, and the pretext of troubles being removed, that the agitators would have thenceforth been deprived of topics to exasperate the populace into acts of violence. The intentions of the king were certainly formed, but owing to his feebleness of character, they were never irrev(K;able. It behoved him to demonstrate them in some signal manner before they could be * [The court, acting upon that spirit of infatuation which aeenis common to all aKCs, factions, and ranks, prompting poli- tical parties to prefer a man of extronie opinions to one more nearly approximating to their own principles, opposed Lafayette upon tliiBOCca-sion, according to the avowal of Uprtrand de Molle- ville himself. " The court," says he, " detesting M. de Lafayette, and fearing above all his ambition and intriffucs, openly favoured r(!-tion. ' M. de Laf.ayette,' said thcqueen tome on thisoccasion, ' only desires to he Mayor of Paris, with the view of being soon after .Mayor of the palace. Pt^t ion is a republican and a Jacobin, but he Is a foul, incapable of ever being the leader of a party ; he will be a nullity of a m.iyor !' "—BcrlraiuVs Amuils, vol. v. p. lOfi. Pdtion was elected mayor on the 17th November, by a majority over Lafayette of 67^ lo 3126] trusted ; and, whilst that proof was withheld, he was exposed to more than one outrage. Although the dis- position of Louis XVI. was amiable, it was not with- out a certain dash of irritability ; thus his resolutions might very easily be shaken by the first operations of the assemialy. That body was formed, and with much ceremony took the oath upon the book of the consti- tution. Its first decree, relative to etiquette, abolished the titles of "sire" and "majesty," generally used to^vards the king. It furthermore ordered that, when he appeared in the assembly, he should be seated on a cliair exactly similar to that occupied by the presi- dent.* Tiiese were the first bursts of the republican spirit, and the pride of Louis XVI. was acutely wounded. To escape from what he regarded as a humiliation, he resolved not to enter the assembly, and to send his ministers to open the legislative ses- sion. The assembly, repenting of its first hostility, revoked the decree the following day, tliereby giving a rare example of contrition. The king accordingly proceeded thither, and was extremely well received. Unfortunately, it had been decreed that the deputies should remain seated if the king did so ; this they carried into practice, and Louis XVI. esteemed it a fresh insult. The applauses wherewith he was covered were insufficient to heal the wound. He returned to the palace, pale, and with Ms countenance agitated. WHien alone with the queen, he threw himself on a sofa, sighing deeply. " Ah ! madam," he exclaimed, " you have been a witness to this degradation ! What ! to come into France to see " The queen endea- voured to soothe him, but his heart was profoundly aSlicted, and his good intentions were grievously shaken. t But if he thenceforward turned his eyes to foreign succour alone, the dispositions of the powers were not calculated to afiford him much hope. The declaration of Pilnitz had remained without efiect, as well from deficiency of zeal in the sovereigns, as also from re- gard to tlie danger to which Louis XVI. was exposed, he being, since the return from Varennes, a prisoner of the Constituent Assembly. The acceptance of the constitution was an additional reason for waiting the course of events before proceeding to action. Such was the opinion of Leopold and his minister Kaunitz. Accordingly, when Louis XVI. had notified to the European courts that he accepted the constitution, and that liis intention was to faithfully observe it, Austria returned a very pacific answer ; Prussia and England did the same, and conveyed assurances of their amicable views. It is observable that neighbour- ing powers acted with more reserve than those at a distance, such as Sweden and Russia, because they were more immediately compromised by war. Gus- tavus, who contemplated a brilliant expedition against France, replied to the notification that he did not con- sider the king free. Russia delayed to explain hersel£ Holland, the i)rincipal Italian states, and especially Switzerland, gave satisfactory rejoinders. The Elec- tors of Treves and Maj-ence, in whose territories the emigrants were located, used evasive expressions. Spain, besieged by emissaries from Coblentz, was equally cautious in her statements, alleging that she desired time to be convinced of the king's liberty; but she gave assurances, nevertheless, that she did not purpose to disturb the tranquillity of the king- dom. Such replies, of which not one was decidedly hostile, the assured neutrality of England, the micertainty of Frederick-William, the pacific and well-known dis- positions of Leopold, all conduced to the supposition of jieace. It is difficult to surmise what might be passing in the vacillating mind of Louis XVI., but his evident interest, and the fears with which war at a later date inspired him, must lead to the conclusion * Decree of the .5th October. \ See Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 129. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 103 that he was likewise anxious for the preservation of peace. Amidst tliis general concert, the emigrants alone persisted in wishing for war, and in making preparations for it. They still resorted in crowds to Coblentz. There they armed with activity, collected magazines, outbid competition fur munitions, formed regiments (wliich were certainly not filled up, since none were disposed to become private soldiers), established grades which were exposed to sale, and, if they attempted nothing really dangerous, they nevertheless made great pre- parations, wliich they themselves deemed formidable, and which tended very naturally to alarm the popular imagination. The important point was to ascertain whether Louis XVI. was countenancmg them or not ; and it was difH- cult to believe that he was not well disposed towards relatives and servants who were taking arms to restore him his ancient powers. There needed the most perfect sincerity, and its continual demonstration, to corro- borate a contrary opinion. Tlie king's letters to tlie emigrants conveyed an invitation, and even an order, to return ; but he had, it was rumoured, a secret cor- respondence which belied his public correspondence, and counteracted its effects. It is doubtless impossible to deny a secret intercourse with Coblentz, but I am far from believing that Louis XVI. used it for the purpose of contradicting the injunctions which he had publicly addressed to the emigrant princes.* It was liis clear and incontestible interest that they should return. Their presence at Coblentz could only be use- ful in as far as they designed to invade ; now, Louis XVI. shuddered above all tilings at the idea of a civil Avar. Not desiring, therefore, to employ their swords upon the Rhine, it was better that he should have tliem near him, in order that they might assist hiin in emergency, and join their efforts to those of the constitutionalists in protecting liis person and throne. Besides, their continuance at Coblentz provoked severe laws, which he was unwilling to sanction ; his refusal would compromise him with the assembly, and we shall in fact see that it was the use he made of the veto which completely turned the popular feel- ing against him, by rendering him suspected as an accomplice of the emigrants. It would be strange if he had not perceived the force of these reasons, with which all his ministers were impressed. They were unanimously of opinion that the emigrants ought to return, in order to defend the person of the king, to put an end to alarm, and to remove all pretext for agitation. Such was even the opinion of Bertrand de Molleville, whose principles were not peculiarly con- * It is Madame Campan who has favoured us with the infor- mation that the king kept up a secret correspondence with Co- blentz : — " Whilst the couriers were on the road with the confidential letters of the king to tlie princes his brothers, and to the foreign princes, the assembly invited the king to address the princes, urging them to return into France. The king directed the Abbd de Montesquiou to draw up the letter which he ouglit to send. This letter, admirably wTitten, expressed in a simple and touch- ing style, so analogous to the character of Louis XVI., and replete with strong arguments upon the advantage of rallying to the principles of the constitution, was intrusted to nie by the king, with orders to make him a copy. At this period, M. Mor , One of the intendants of Monsieur's household, obtained a passport from the assembly, enabling him to visit the prince, on account of some matter of essential interest to his affaire. The queen selected him to bear this letter; she determined upon giving it him herself, and cx])laining to him its purport. The choice of such a courier surprised me : the queen assured me it Wiis the best in the world, that she reckoned upon liis indiscretion, and that it wa-s merely essential the public should be made acquainted with the king's letter to his brothers. The princes were, doubtless, /orewtirneti in (hr privnte cnrrespon- tlence. Monsieur, however, showed some surjirise ; and the mes- senger returned more afflicted than satisfied with such a mark jf confidence, which nearly cost him his life during the reign of terror."— M(i(/(/Hie C'uHij/a/i, vol. ii. p. 17- stitutional. " It was necessary," says he, " to use all possible means for increasing the popularity of the king. The most efficacious and certain of all, at this moment, was to recall the emigrants. Their return, so generally desired, would have revived in France the royalist part}', which the emigration had com- pletely disorganised. This party, strengthened by the odium into which the assembly had fallen, by the numerous deserters from the constitutional party, and by all the discontented, would have speedily become sufficiently powerful to render decisive the explosion which might, sooner or later, be certainly antici- pated."* Louis XVI., conforming to this counsel of his mini- sters, addressed exhortations to the principal oflBcers of the army and navy, recalling them to a sense of their duty, and to the retention of their commands. But such exhortations were utterly disregarded, and the desertion continued uninterruptedly. The mini- ster of war came forward to announce the desertion of nineteen hundred officers. The assembly could not moderate its wrath, and resolved to take most vigorous measures to stop the evil. The Constituent had restricted itself to pronouncing deprivation against all public functionaries leaving the kingdom, and levy- ing on the possessions of emigrants a triple contribu- tion, to indemnify the state for the services of which their absence deprived it. The new assembly pro- posed more severe penalties. Various motions were submitted. Brissot distin- guished three classes of emigrants — the leaders of the desertion, the public fimctionaries who forsook their duties, and, lastly, those whom fear had impelled to fly their native country. The full measure of punish- ment should be meted to the first classes, said he, but the last might be contemned and pitied. It is quite certain that the liberty of man does not consist with his being chained to a particular soil ; but when positive knowledge is acquired from a num- ber of concurrent circumstances, that citizens are abandoning their country in order to collect together without its limits and stir up war against it, in such cases it is clearly allowable to adopt precautious against projects so fraught with danger. A long and obstinate debate ensued upon the ques- tion. The constitutionalists opjiosed all the proposed measures, and maintained that futile schemes ought to be held in contempt, according to the plan alwa3-s pursued by their predecessors. However, the oppos- ing party prevailed, and a preliminary decree was passed, enjoining Monsieur, the king's brother, to return within two months, or in default thereof, con- demning him to forfeit his eventual right to the re- gency. Anotlier more severe decree was passed against the emigrants in general ; it declared that the French assembled beyond the frontiers of the kingdom were suspected of a consjjiracy against France ; that if, ou the first day of the ensuing January, they should still continue assembled, they should be deemed guilty of conspiracy, prosecuted as such, and punished with death ; and that the incomes of those in contumacy should be during their lives received for the national benefit, without prejudice to the rights of wives, chil- dren, and legitimate creditors.f The act of emigrating not being in itself reprehen- sible, it is difficult to assign the point distinctly at which it becomes so. What the law could equitably do, was to publish beforehand who would be held cul- pable in certain cases; and all tliose who were desirous of not being so held, had only to yield obedience. Those who, after notice of the period at which ab- sence from the kingdom would become a crime, did not return, thereby voluntarily consented to pass for criminals. Those who, without warlike or political motives, were beyond the kingdom, were bound to hasten their return ; it was but a slight sjicrificc to * Vol. vi. p. 42. t Decrees of the 28th October and !)th November. 104 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. tlie safety of a state, that a traveller for pleasure or business 'should curtail the extent of his joiiruey. The kin-,', with tlie view of gratifying the assembly and public opinion, sanctioned the decree which or- dered Monsieur to return, under penalty of losnig las right to the regency ; but he affixed his veto to the law against the emigrants. The ministers were ordered to repair in a body to the assembly, with the announcement of the king's resolves.* Tliey first read over various decrees to whicii tlie sanction was given. When that upon the emigrants came in its turn, a marked silence pervaded the assembly ; and upon the keeper of tlie seals jiroiiouncing the official formula, " the king will examine" great discontent was mani- fested on all sides. He desired to detail the reasons ol the rejection, but several voices rose against this course, exclaiming to the imnister, that the consti- tution granted the king the right of opposing, but not that of assigning motives. The minister was aecordingly obliged to desist, leaving behind him a rankling feeling^ of irritation. This first resistance on the king's part to the measures of the assembly was a definitive rupture ; for, although he had sanc- tioned the decree which deprived his brother of the regency, his refusal of the second was deemed an incontestible proof of his partiality towards the in- surgents of Coblentz. None forgot at such a moment that he was their relative, their friend, and, in some sort, their copartner in interest; and it was held impossible for him to abstain from making common cause with them against the nation. On the following day, Louis XVI. gave publication to a proclamation against the emigrants, and two indi- vidual letters to his brothers. The reasons which he urged upon both the one and the other of these parties were excellent, and apparently advanced in good faith. He solicited them to put an end, by their return, to the suspicions which the malevolent took such pains to disseminate ; he entreated them not to reduce liim to the necessity of employing harsh measures against them ; and as to his want of liberty, upon which such stress was laid to disregard his injunctions, he adduced as a proof of the contrary, the veto he had just exer- cised in their favoiu-.f However cogent these reasons * Sitting of the 12th November. t LKTTER OP THE KING TO LOUIS-STANISLAUS-XA VIER, FRENCH PRINCE, BROTHER OF THE KINS. " Paris, \Wi November 1791. I ATote to you, my brother, on the 16th of October last, and you could have no reason to doubt my real sentiments. I am astonished tliat my letter has not produced the eil'ect I was justified in anti- cipating. To recall you to your duties, I have urged all the motives which must most nearly touch you. Your absence is a pretext for all the malevolent, a sort of excuse for all the misguided French, who think they are serving me by keeping all France in a disquiet and agitation which form the torments of my life. The revolution is finished, the constitution consummated, France eager for it, and I determined to maintain it ; the safety of the monarchy de- pends at this moment upon its stability. The constitution has given you rights ; it has imposed a condition upon their enjoyment wliich you ought to hasten to fulfil. Uelievc me, my brother, and discard the doubts that are sought to be impressed upon you regarding my liberty. I am about to prove, by a very solemn act, and in a matter aftectiiig you, that I may act freely. Prove you to me that you are my brotlier and a Frenchman, by j'ielding to my wishes. Your proper place is by my side ; your interest, your feelings, equally move you to return and resume it. I invite you to do oi), and, if necessary, I order you. (Signed) Loiis." monsieur's BCPLY TO THE KIMO. " Cobkiitz, 3d December 17.')1. SiBK, IMV BROTHER ANn i.ORj)— Thc Count de Vcrgemies lia.s delivered to me, on the part of your majesty, a letter, thc super- scription on which, notwithstanding it contained my baptismal names, w.xs so ditfercnt from my address, that I thoiiglit ot re- turning it to him unopened. However, upon his positive assur- ance that it was for me, I opened it, and tlie name of brother, which I there found, having removed from my mind iUl doubt, I read it with thc rcsijcct I owe to the writing and signature of your might be, they produced neither at Coblentz nor at Paris the effect they were calculated, or appeared cal- culated, to have wrought. The emigrants did not return ; and in the assembly the tone of the procla- mation was judged too mild, and even the power of the executive to issue one at all was contested. It, in fact, was too deeply irritated to be contented with a proclamation, and especially to suffijr a useless mea- sure to be substituted by the king for the energetic measures it had resolved to adopt. Another trial of a similar description was imposed on Louis XVI. at the same i)eriod, and led to an equally unfortunate residt. The first religious troubles had broken loose in the west, and the Constituent Assem- bly had sent thither two commissioners, one of whom was Gensonne, subsequently so celebrated in the Girondist party. Their report had been made to the I^egislative Assembly, and, though drawn up with great moderation, had filled it with indignation. It will be remembered that the Constituent Assembly, when suspending from their functions the priests who re- fused to take the oath, had nevertheless left them a pension, and liberty to celebrate divine worship apart. Since then they had never ceased to excite the people against their conforming brethren, and to uphold them as impious persons, whose ministry was null and dan- gerous. They dragged the peasants after them for long distances to hear the ritual of mass. These latter were majesty. The order which it contains for me to repair to your majesty's side is not the free expression of your will, and my honour, my duty, my affection even, equally debar me from obeying it. If your majesty seeks to know all my motives more in detail, I entreat you to refer to my letter of the 10th of last September. I likewise entreat your majesty to graciously receive the expression of those sentiments, as att'ectionate as respectful, with which I am," &e. &c. LETTER FROM THE KING TO CHARLES-PHILIP, FRENCH PIUNCB, BROTHER OK THE KINO. " Paris, \Uh 'November 1791. You are undoubtedly aware of the decree which the National Assembly has jiassed relative to Frenchmen out of the country ; I do not think it incmnbont on me to give my consent thereto, fondly persuading myself that gentle means will more efFectually attain thc object that is proposed, and whieli the interest of tlio state demands. The various overtures I have made to you, must remove all doubt from )Our mind as to my intentions and desires Public tranquillity and my personal comfort are dependent on your return. You cannot continue a line of conduct which dis- tracts France and afflicts me, without disregarding your most essential duties. Sp;ire me the pain of sanctioning severe mea- sures against you ; consult your true interests ; allow yourself to be guided by the attachment you owe to your country ; in a word, yield to the wish of the French nation and to tliat of your king. Such a resolve on your part will be a proof of your sentiments towards me, and will assure you the continuance of those I have always entertained towards you. (Signed) Louis." ANSWER OF THE COUNT d'ARTOIS TO THE KINO. " Coblentz, 3d December 1791. Sire, my brother and lord— The Count de Vergennes de- livered me yesterday a letter which he assured me had been addressed to me by your majesty. The superscription giving me a title which I cannot admit, led me to believe that this letter was not intended for me ; but, having recognised your majesty's seal, I opened it, and I respected tlie writing and the signature of my king ; but thc total omission of the name of brother, and more th.anall, the decisions referred to in that letter, have given me an additional proof of the moral and physical captivity in which our enemies dare to retain your majesty. After tliis avowal, your majesty will expect that, faithful to my duty and the laws of honour, I should pay no obedience to orders evidently wrested by violence. Furthermore, the letter which I had the honour of transmitting to your majesty, in conjunction with Monsieur, on the lOth of hist September, contains tlie sentiments, principles, and deter- minations from which I sliall never swerve ; to it, therefore, T unreservedly refer ; it will be tlie basis of my conduct, and I hero repeat the oath it sets forth. I humbly entreat your majesty to receive the homage of those feelings, as tender as rcspoutf iil, with wliich 1 am, sire, &c. &c" HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 105 exasperated at seeing their churcli occupied by a wor- ship which they believed evil, and at being obliged to seek, so far from their homes, the one they believed good. They frequently even attacked the conforming priests and their followers. Civil war thus became imminent.* Additional information was gathered by * The report of Messrs Gallois and Gensonn^ is, without con- tradiction, the best historical evidence of tlie beginning of the troubles in La Vendee. The origin of those troubles is its most interesting part, because it demonstrates their causes. I have, .therefore, deemed it necessary to give tliat report. It appears to me to illustrate one of the most curious portions in that disastrous history. Report of Messrs Gallois and GcnsonnS, Civil Commission- ers, dispatched into the departments of La Vendee and of the Deux-Sevrcs, by virtue of decrees of the Constituent Assembly, rendered to the Legislative Assembly on the 9th October 1/91. Gentlemen— Tlie National Assembly decreed on the 16th of last July, on the Report of its Committee of Inquiry, that civil com- missioners should be dispatched into tlie departmentof La Vendee, to obtain all tlie Lniormation they coidd procure as to the causes of the late troubles in that quarter ; and to assist the administra- tive bodies in the re-estabUshment of public tranquillity. On the 23d July we were intrusted with this mission, and we departed two days afterwards for Foutenoy-le-Comte, the chief town of that department. After a few days spent in conferences with the administrators of the Directory upon the situation of affairs and the state of pub- lie feeling, and after agreeing with the three administrative bodies upon certain preliminary measures for the maintenance of public order, we determined to proceed into the different districts which composed tliat department, in order to examine how much of truth or falsehood, how much of reality or exaggeration, there existed in the complaints which had already reached us ; in short, to enable us to ascertain, with the greatest possible precision, the situation of that department. We have traversed it in almost its whole extent, sometimes for the purpose of gaining infoiination which was necessary to us, at other times for the purpose of maintaining peace, suppressing public disturbances, or preventing violences to which certam citizens believed themselves exposed. We have heard in several district-directories all the municipa- lities of whicli each of them is composed ; we have paid tlie greatest attention to all the citizens who had either facts to com- municate or views to suggest ; we have carefully collected and compared all the details which have come to oiu: knowledge ; but as our information !ias been more bulky than varied — as through- out, the facts, complaints, and observations have been similar — we shall present to you, under a general point of view, and in an abridged but exact form, the result of this mass of particular facts. We consider it unnecessary to Lay before you the details wliicli we gleaned concerning anterior troubles ; they do not, in our judgment, appear to have any very direct influence upon the actual condition of that department ; besides, the law of amnesty having stayed the different proceedings to wliicli those troubles liad given rise, we could only present you with vague conjectures and uncertain deductions upon those matters. The period for administering tlie ecclesiastical oath was in the department of La Vendue the first era of its troubles ; pre- viously, the people had enjoyed profound tranquUlity. At a dis- tance from the great centre of action and strife, disposed by their natural character to a love of peace, to a disposition for order, and to respect for the law, they reaped the benefits of the revolution without undergoing any of its storms. In rural districts, the diflficiUty of intercourse, the simplicity of a life purely agricultural, the lessons of infancy, and the inculca- tion of religious emblems calculated to keep regard alive, have disposed their minds to a multitude of superstitious impressions, which, in the present state of things, no species of instruction can either destroy or modify. Their religion, that is to say, such as they conceive religion, is become the most powerful, and, so to spejik, the only moral observ- ance of their lives. The most essential object it presents to them is the worship of images; and the minister of that worship, lie whom the inhabitants of the country regard as the dispenser of celestial favours, as able, by the power of his prayers, to mitigate the severity of seasons, and as disposing of happiness in a future state of existence, has centred upon his own person all the most tender as well as the most energetic affections of their souls. The constancy of the people of this department in the established I the assembly, which exhibited the danger in a yet more alarming light. It thereupon resolved to adopt, against these fresh enemies of the constitution, mea- order of their religious actions, and the unlimited confidence enjoyed by the priests to whom they are accustomed, form one of the principal elements of the troubles which have agitated, and may still continue to agitate, it. It is easy to conceive with what activity mistaken or factious priests have brought these dispositions of the people into play for their o\vn advantage ; they have neglected nothing to stimulate zeal, alarm consciences, strengtlien irresolute characters, and sustain those of a more decided cast ; in to some have been instilled feelings of disquietude and remorse, into others hopes of happi- ness and salvation ; upon almost all has been tried successfull}- the influence of seduction or fear. Several amongst these ecclesiastics are tliemselves sincere ; they seem deeply imbued both with the ideas they disseminate and the sentiments they inspire ; others are accused of covering with zeal for religion interests much more dear to their hearts. These last iissume a political activity which increases or moderates accord- ing to circumstances. A formidable coalition has been formed between the late Bishop of Lufon and a part of the old clergy of his diocese ; a plan of opposition has been arranged to tlie execution of decrees intended to be put in force in any of their parishes ; charges and inflammatory writings sent from Paris, have been addressed to all the priests to strengthen them in their resolutions, or to urge then^ into a con- federation which is represented as general. A circular letter from M. Bauregard, grand-vicar to M. de Merci, late Bishop of Luyon, deposited at the register of the tribunal of Fontenay, and wiiich that ecclesiastic has since acknowledged in his interrogatory, will enable you to form an exact opinion, both upon the secret of that coalition and upon the skilfully combined movements of those composing it. We consequently include it : — Letter dated from Lufon, the 31st May 1791, tinder cover to the address of the Incumbent of La Rci/rthe. " A decree of the National Assembly, sir, under date of the 7th JWay, grants to the ecclesiastics whom it has pretended to super- sede for refusing the oath, the use of the parish churches merely to say mass within. The same decree authorises Roman Catho- lics, as weU as all dissenters, to assemble together for the exercise of their religious services in any place they may select for such purpose, upon condition that in public discourses nothing shall be said against the civil constitution of the clergy. The privilege granted to the legitimate pastors by the first article of this decree, must be regarded as a snare, the more dan- gerous, inasmuch as the faithful will not meet in the churches upon which the intruders have seized, with other instructions than those of their false pastors ; inasmuch as they will not be able to receive the sacraments from any but tlieir hands, and thus they must have with these schismatic pastors a communi- cation which the laws of the church forbid. In order to obviate so great an evil, the incumbents will perceive the necessity of securing, with all possible haste, a place in which they may, by virtue of the second article in this decree, exercise their func- tions and gather into one fold their faithful parishioners, after their pretended successors have seized upon their churches ; with- out this precaution, the Catholics will be drawn, by the fear of 'losing the celebration of mass and the divine offices, and by listen- ing to the voice of false pastors, into communication with them, and exposed to the almost inevitable perils of seduction. In parishes where there are few wealthy proprietors, it will be, doubtless, diflicult to find a suitable locality, and to procure sacred vases and ornaments ; but a simple granary, a portable altar, a vesture of calico, or some other common stuff, and pewter vases, will suffice, in such cases of necessity, to celebrate tlie holy mysteries and the divine offices. Such simplicity and poverty, by recalling to us the first apes of the church, and the dawn of our holy religion, may be a powerful means of exciting zeal in ministers, and fervour in the faithful. The first Christians had no other temples than their houses ; there were gathered together the shepherds and the flock to celebrate the holy mysteries, to hear the word of God, and to sing the praises of the Lord. During tnc persecutions wlierewith the church was afllicted, forced to abandon their teiniilcs, they were seen retiring into caverns, and even into tombs ; and these times of trial were the eras of greatest fervour to the true faithful. There must be vcrj' few parishes in which the incumbents will be unable to procure a place and ornaments such as I have just described ; and, imtil they are provided with the necessiiry arti- cles, those of their neighbours, who shall not bo superseded, will bo able to a.'isist them with what they have at disposal in their 106 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH. REVOLUTION. surcs similar in character to those it had taken against the armed enemies beyond the llliine, and idso to make a lurtlier trial of the king's real dispositions. own chiirche* We shall be pro\-ided with a continual supply of sacred stones for all who may need them, and, from the present time, we are enabled to autliorise the cups or vases to be con- seer- itevith the particular laws for the civil organisation of the clergy, render both the reading and the publication useless. The malcontents, those who are disinclined to the new order of things, and those who, in the new order, are indisposed to the laws rcLative to the clergy, studiously encourage this aversion on the part of the people; strengthen, by all the means in their power, the credit of the non-juring priests, and weaken the credit of the others ; the indigent obtains no relief, the artisiin can hope for no emplojTucnt of his talents and industry, but as he engages not to attend tlie mass of the constitutional i)ricst ; and it is by this general confidence in the old incumbents on the one hand, and the threats and seduction at work on the other, that tlie churches served by the conforming priests are deserteil, and crowds resort to those where, from want of substitutes, the dis- placements have not as yet been effected. Nothing is more common than to see in iiarishes of five to six hundred persons, ten or twelve only going to the mass of the con- forming priest ; the proportion is the same in all tlie districts of the department; on .Sundiiys and holidays the inliabitants of whole villages and hamlets are seen deserting their hearths, to go one, and sometimes two, leagues to hcai- the mass of a non-juring priest. These habitual peregrinations have appeared to us the ministry. Nothing could be more mild and moderate than such a system of repression. The Legislative Assembly now again required tlie oath, and deprived most powerful cause of the fennentation, sometimes secret, some- times palpable, which exists in nearly the whole of the parishes ministered to by conforming priests. It is easily to be imagined, that a miUtitude of individuals, believing themselves obliged for conscience' sake to travel a great distance in quest of the spiritual consolation desired by them, will regaid with aversion, when they return home exhausted with fatigue, the five or six persons who find at their threshold the priest of their choice ; they look with envy, and treat with sullenness, often with violence, men who seem in their eyes to have an exclusive privilege in the aft'air of religion. The comparisons which they make between the faci- lity which they formerly enjoyed of seeking at home priests who possessed their confidence, and the difficulty, the fatigue, and the loss of time, consequent upon these rejicated expeditions, greatly diminish their attachment to the constitution, upon which they charge all the annoyances of their new position. To this general cause, more influential at this moment, per- haps, than the secret provocations of the non-juring priests, we are inclined to believe may be mainly attributed the state of internal discord, in which we have found the majority of the parishes where conforming priests are installed. Several parishes have presented to us, as also to the administra- tive bodies, petitions praying for authority to hire particular edi- fices for the celebration of their religious service ; but as these petitions, which we knew to be stimulated with great activity by persons who did not sign them, appeared to us as part of a more generalised and secret system, we thought ourselves not warranted in sanctioning a religious separation, which, according to our opinion at that period, and under the circumstances of the depart- ment, was fraught with all the characteristics of a civil schism amongst the citizens. We thought, and openly stated, that it was for you, gentlemen, to determine, in a distinct manner, how, and under what union of moral influences, laws, imd modes of execution, the exercise of liberty in religious opinions might in this case, under actual circumstances, be made consistent with the maintenance of public tranquillity. It is, doubtless, matter of surprise that the non-juring priests who remain in their old parishes, do not take advantage (if the privilege the law gives them of saying mass in the church served by the new incumbent, and do not exhibit alacrity in the use of this liberty so as to spare their old parishioners, all who remain attached to them, the loss of time and annoyances of so many and such tedious journeys. To explain this conduct, appai-ently so extraordinary, it behoves us to remark, that one of the things which has been most strongly recommended to the non-juring priests, by the able men who are in the direction of this great religious movement, is to abstain from all comniimication with the priests, whom they call inti-uders and usurpers, for fear the people, who are affected only by sensible signs, should become ultimately impressed with the idea that there is in reality no difference between priests performing in the same church the ceremonies of the same worship. Unfortmiately, this religious division has produced a political di\ision amongst the citizens, and this separation is rendered more marked by the denomination bestowed on each of the two parties ; the small number of persons who go into the church of the conforming priests, call themselves, and ai-c called, patriots i those wlio go into tlie church of the non-juring priests, arc called, and call themselves, aristocrats. Thus, to these poor country peojile, love or hatred of their country consists at the present day, not in obeying the laws, or resiiccting the legitimate autho- rities, but in going or not going to the mass of the conforming priest; design, ignorance, and prejudice, have thrown out such deep-seated misconceptions on this subject, tliat we had the greatest difficulty in making them understand that the political constitution of the state was not the civil constitution of the clergy ; that the law did not tyrannise over consciences ; th.-it each was at liberty to attend the mass which was most agreeable to himself, and the priest who enjoyed his eontidcncc ; that they were all equal in the eye of the law, and that it imposed upon them no other obligation, in a religious point of view, than to live in peace, and mutually tolerate the differences of their opi- nions. We neglected no moans of eftacing fniiu the minds, and banishing from the discourses, of tlie country people, those absurd denominations ; and we directed our attention thereto with the more energy, since it was no difficult matter to estimate the deplorable consequences of such distinctions, in a department where those pretended aristocrats form more than two-thirds of the entire population. Such, gentlemen, is the summary of the facts which haveoouie 108 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. those who refused it of :dl iillowances. As they abused the liberty allowed them by exciting civil war, it ordered that, according to particular circumstances, to our knowledge, as existing in the department of La Vendue, and of the reflections to which those facts have given rise. We have pursued iii this matter such measures as we found practicable, both for the purpose of maintaining the public tran- quillity, and obviating or repressing attempts against public order; as organs of tlio law, we have made its language every where licard. At the same time that we instituted safeguards for order and tranquiUity, we directed our attention to the explaining or illustrating before the administrative bodies, the tribunals, and individuals, the dilKcuUies springing from the misunder- standing of the decrees, and from the mode of their execution ; we exhorted tlie administrative bodies :md tribunals to redouble i tlieir vigilance and zeal in the exeiutian of the laws which pro- i tott personal safety and the rights of property ; in a word, to j)ut I in force, with the firmness which is one of their duties, tlie authority tlie law has conferred upon them. We distributed a p;irt of tlie public force at our disposal, into localities where I sorious and imminent dangei-s were announced to us ; we pro- ceede-as on the eve of breaking out ; tlie mode of prevention whicli seemed to them the most certain and prompt, and which t'.iey supported v.'ith great force, was to cxi>el from the diotrict, within three days, all the non-juring and displaced incumbents, and :dl the non-jming curates. The direc- tory, after long hesitating to adopt a measure which appeared to it contniry to the prineii)les of strict justice, at last concluded that the public character of the denouncers was sufficient to authenticate both the reality of the evil, and the pressing neces- sity for a remedy. An order wus resolved upon in consequence, on the .'>th September, and the directory, commanding all the ecclesiistic-s to leave the district in three days, invited them to repair within that period to Ninrt, the chief town of the depart- ment, rumirintj tlu'm that Uiey would Oicrefind everi/ protection and mfetiffitr their perions. Theonk-r wasal ready printed, and about to be putintoexecution, wlicn the directory received a copy of the decree of commission which it had solicited ; it immediately passed a resolution wlioreby it suspended the execution of the first, .-ind left to our prudence the tabk of confirming, modifying, or suppressing it. Two administrators of the directory were, by the same resolu- tion, named commissioners to make us acquainted with all that li.ui passed, to proceed to Chatillon, and there take, in concert vitU us, all the mciisures that might be deemed necessary. Uj>on our arrival at Chatillon, we assembled the fifty -six munl- they sliuuld be transported from one place to another, and even subjected to a detention if they refused to obey. Finally, it prohibited them from the free exer- cipalities of which that district is composed, and called them Suc- cessively into the hall of the directory. We consulted each of them upon the state of its parisli ; all the municipalities expressed an uniform desire : those in which the incumbents had been re- placed, demanded the restoration of those priests ; those in wliich tlie non-juring incumbents were still in possession, demanded their conservation. There was also another point on wliich all this rural population insisted unanimously, namely, liberty of religious opinions, which, it alleged, had been granted to it, and which it was anxious to enjoy. The same and the following day, the neighbouring parishes sent us numerous deputations of their inhabitants reiterating the same prayer. " We ask no other favour," said they to us with one accord, " than to have priests in whom we put our trust." Several of them, indeed, attached so great a value to this concession, that they assured us they would willingly pay, in order to obtain it, a double contribution. A very gre.at majority of the ecclesiastical functionaries in that district have not taken the oath ; and whilst their churches scarcely suffice to contain the throng of citizens, the churches of the con- forming priests are almost deserted. In tliis respect, the state of the district appeared to us the same as that of the depai-tment of La Vendue ; there, as in other parts, we found tlie designations of patriot and aristocrat completely established amongst the people, with the same meanings, and, if possible, in a yet more general manner. The public feeling in favour of the non-juring priests, appeared to us even more decided than in the department of La Vendue ; the attachment evinced towards them, the confi- dence reposed in them, have all the characteristics of the most energetic and profound sentiment ; in some of these parishes, the conforming priests, and citizens friendly to them, have been exposed to threats and insults; and although there, as elsewhere, these violent manifestations appeared occasionally exaggerated, we are convinced (and the simple statement of the public feeling is sufficient to found the conviction) that the greater part of the complaints were based on substantial grounds. At the same time that we recommended to the judges and ad- ministrators the greatest vigilance upon this subject, we omitted no expedient calculated to inspire the people with ideas and sen- timents more conformable to respect for the law and to the rights of individual liberty. We are bound to state, gentlemen, that these same men, who had been represented to us as such furious characters — as deaf to every appeal of reason — left us with minds full of peace and satis- faction, when we made them imderstand that it was the essence of the principles of the new constitution to respect liberty of con- science : they were moved with gi'ief and remorse for the faults that some amongst them had been induced to commit ; they pro- mised us, with mueli emotion, to follow the counsels we gave them, to live in peace, notwithstanding the difference of their reUgious opinions , and to respect the public functionary established by the law. They were heai-d, as they went out, congratulating each other upon having seen us, repeating, amongst themselves, all that we had said to them, and fortifying each other in their resolutions of peace and good -will. On the sjmie day it was annoimeed to us that several of these country people, on returning home, had affixed placards, in which they declared, that each of them bound himself to denounce and to apprehend t'le first person wlio should do injury to another, and especially to the constitutional priests. AVe ouglit to draw attention to the fact, that in this same dis- trict, so long distracterl with religious differences, the taxes in arrear for l/fW and 1790, amounting to 700,0(H) livres, have been almost entirely discharged. We have proved it by reference to the directory of the district. After having carefully studied the tone of public feeling, and the situation of affairs, we were of opinion that the order of the directory ought not to be put in execution, and the conimisHion- ers of the department, as well as the administrators of the direc- tory of Chatillon, were of the same opinion. Setting aside all the determuiing motives to be drawn from things and persons, we deliberated whether tlie measiu-e adopted by the directory was just in its nature, and whether it would be efficacious in execution. We judged that those priests who have been displaced cannot be considered in a state of revolt against the law, because they continue to reside in the place of their abrogated functions, the more especially as amongst these priests there are some who notoriously confine themselves to a life such as befits charitable and jicaceable men, far removed from all public and private dis- cussions; we judged that, in the eye of the law, none could be HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 109 cise of their separate worship, and directed that the administratiTe bodies sliould cause to be transmitted to it a list, with notes upon the conduct of each of tliem.* This measure, as well as that which had recently been adopted against the emigrants, was evidence of the fear whicli possesses governments violently menaced, and whicli induces them to resort to mea- sm'es of extreme precaution. It is no longer the realised attempt they pmiish, it is tlie apprehended attack tliey would repel ; and their proceedings often become as arbitrary and cruel as suspicion itself. The bishops and priests wlio had remained at Paris and preserved relations with the king, immediately addressed a memorial to him against the decree. He, already somewhat conscience-striken for liaving sanc- tioned the earlier decree of the Constituent Assembly, did not need encouragement to withhold his consent. " As to this one," said he, speaking of the new law, " they shall rather take my life than oblige me to sanction it." The ministers coincided to a great ex- tent in this opinion. Barnave and Lameth, whom the king consulted occasionally, advised him to refuse his sanction; but to this counsel they added another, which the king could not bring himself to foUow, namely, that whilst opposing the decree, he should obviate all doubt as to his own dispositions, and for that purpose remove from his person all jjriests who had not taken the oath, and compose his chapel of constitutional ecclesiastics alone. But of all the coun- sels that were given him, tlie king adopted merely that part which comported Avith his own weakness or devout tendency. Duport-Dutertre, the keeper of the seals, and the organ of the constitutionalists in the ministry, successfully upheld the course they recom- mended with his colleagues ; and when the council had decided, to the great satisfaction of Louis XVI., that the veto should be affixed, he added as a sugges- tion, that it would be a,dvisable to surround the person of the king with jmests who were not suspected. Against this proposition, Louis XVI., generally so yielding, manifested an invincible repugnance, and said, that religiovis liberty being decreed for all, it sliould be extended to liun as well as his subjects, and that he ought to be allowed to call such priests around him as were agreeable to his own feelings. The matter was not pressed ; and without giving the as- semljly any intimation of the intention, the veto was decided upon. The constitutional party, to which the king seemed deemed in a state of revolt, unless opposing it by precise, ascer- tained, and verified facts ; iinally, wo judged that acts of resist- ance to the laws relative to the clergy, and to all the laws of the kingdom, ought, like all other oft'ences, to be punished by legal forms. Upon the second question as to the efficacy of such a measure, wo held, that if the faithful have no confidence in the conforming priests, it is not the mode for inspiring them with more to remove in this manner tliose of their choice ; we held, that in the districts wliere the great majority of the non-juring priests continue the exorcise of their functions, according to the sanction of tlio law, until they are replaced, it woukl certainly not, in sucli a system of repression, diminisli the evil to remove so small a number of individuals, when it is necessary to leave in the same localities a greater number imbued with identical opinions. Such, gentlemen, are some of the reasons Avliich influenced our conduct upon this occasion, independently of all tliose derived from local circimistances, which would alone have induced vis to pursue a similar course; such, in fact, was the general feeling that the execution of that order in those parts would infallibly have become the signal of civil war. The directory of the department of the Deux-Pevrcs, informed first by its own coniniishioncrs, and subsequently by >is, of all that we had done upon this subject, did us the honour to offer us an expression of its gratitude, by a resolution of the l!)th of last month. We will add, with respect to tliat measure for the removal of • Decree of the 29th November. at this moment to surrender himself, brought him an additional support — it was that of the directory of the department. This directory was composed of some of the most distingrdshed members of the late asseml)ly, such as the Duke of Larochefoucault, the Bishop of Autun, Baumetz, Desmeuniers, Ansons, &c. It sent a petition to the king, not as an administrative body, but as a meeting of petitioners, and prayed for the affixing of the veto to the decree against the priests. " The National Assembly," said the petition, " has unquestionably acted with the best intentions ; M-e desire here to vindicate it from its base detractors ; but its laudable designs have urged it to the adoption of measures which the constitution, justice, and pru- dence, alike disclaim. It makes the payment of the pensions to all superseded ecclesiastics dependent on their taking the civic oath, whereas the constitution has expressly and literally placed those pensions in the list of national obligations. Now, can the refusal to take any oath whatsoever destroy the vaUdity of an acknowledged debt? The Constituent Assembly enacted aU that was expedient with regard to the non-juring priests : they refused the prescribed oath, and it deprived them of their functions ; upon dis- possessing them, it assigned to them a pension. The Legislative Assembly desires that the ecclesiastics who have not taken the oath, or have retracted it, should be liable, in the event of religious troubles, to be provisionally removed, and then imprisoned, if they refuse obedience to the orders that may be intimated to them. Is this not to renew the system of arbitrary orders, inasmuch as it would allow to be pmiished with exile, and shortly after with imprisonment, in- dividuals who are not convicted of ])eing refractory to any law ? The National Assembly refuses to all those who shall not take the civic oath the free pro- fession of their faith. Now, this liberty can be taken away from no one ; it is consecrated for ever in the declaration of rights." These were, doubtless, very excellent reasons ; but it is not with arguments that the irritation or appre- hensions of parties are appeased. By what logic could the assembly be persuaded that it ought to leave un- molested a body of stubborn priests, actually exciting discord and civil war ? The directory was assailed with reproaches, and its petition to the king met by a multitude of counter-addresses to the legislative body. Camille-Desmoulins presented one of singular hardihood in its expressions, at the head of a sec- tion. An increasing violence of language, and a repu- the non-juring priests who have been displaced, that it was con- stantly recommended to us by almost all of the citizens in the department of La Vendee who are attached to the constitutional priests, and who form, as we have already stated, hut a small fraction of the inhabitants. In laying this wish before you, we do but acquit ourselves of a commission Ihat lias been intrusted to us. ]Vor will we on the other band conceal from you that some of the conforming priests whom we have seen were of a contrary opinion ; one of them, in a letter which he addressed to us on the Idth September, after pointing out the causes of the troubles, and mentioning the annoyances to which he was everj* daj' exposed, observes, that tlie only means of remedying all these evils is (we quote his expressions) " to conciliate the opinion of the people, whose prejudices should be removed with patience and i)ru(lence ; for we must avoid all war on accountof religion, the wounds from which are still bleeding. It is to be feared that rigorous measures, needful under the circumstances against the disturbed of the public repose, might appear more as a persecution than a punish- ment inflicted by tlie law. Wliat prudence will it not be neces- sary to observe ! Mildness, exhortiition, arc the weapons of truth." Such, gentlemen, is the genenU result of the details we have gathered, and of the observations we have made, in the course of the mission whicli has been conlided to us. The sweetest recom- pense of our labours would be to have facilitated the me;ms ot establishing upon solid foundations the tranquillity of those de- liartmcnts, and to have proved worthy, by the activity of our zeal, of the confidence with which we have been honoured. 110 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. diation of all the accustomed terms of respect towards the authorities and the king, were already distinctly visible. Desmoulins said to the assembly that a j^^reat example was required; that the directory ought to be put under impeachment; that the leaders were those whom it was necessary to attack ; that it was at the head tlie blow should be struck, and the thunderbolt hurled at all conspirators ; that the power of the royal veto had its limits ; and that the capture of the Bas- tille had not been prevented by a veto. Louis XYI., although determined to refuse his sanction, delayed, nevertheless, his announcement to the assembly. He wished in the mean time to con- ciliate opinion by some popular acts. He selected his ministers from the constitutional party. Mont- morin, wearied by his laborious career under the con- stituent body, and by his irksome negotiations with all i)arties, had resolved not to brave the storms of a new legislature, and had consequently reth-ed, in spite of the king's entreaties. The ministry for foreign affairs, refused by divers persons, was ultimately ac- cepted by Delessart, who quitted that of the honje departme'nt. Delessart, a man of integrity and ability, was under the influence of the constitutionalists or Feuillants; but he was too feeble to fix the mind of the king, to have weight with foreign powers, or awe internal factions. Cahier de Gerville, a decided patriot, somewhat more rough than engaging in his eloquence, was placed in the home-office, as an addi- tional bait for public confidence. Narbonne, a young man of great activity and ardour, a zealous constitu- tionalist, and skilfid in gaining popularity, was in- trusted with tlie ministry at war by the party then predominant in the cabinet. He might have exer- cised a beneficial influence upon its determinations, and reconciled tlie assembly with the king, if he had not had as an adversary Bertrand de Molleville, a counter-revolutionary minister, and possessing the ear of the court in preference to all his colleag\ies. Bertrand de Molleville detesting the constitution, and artfully clinging to its text for the purpose of marring its spirit, was really desirous, nevertheless, that the king should attempt to execute it — " but in order," as he said, " that its impracticability might be demon- strated." The king could not resolve to dismiss him ; and it was with this mixed ministry he once more set forward on his course. After thus striving to win opi- nion by his ministerial selections, he essayed other means to gain it still more decidedly ; appearing at this time cordially disposed to second all the diplo- matic and military measures proposed against the armed assemblages on the Rhine. The last repressive laws had been defeated by the veto, and yet every day fresh denimciations apprised the assembly of the preparations and threats of the emigrants. The records of the numicipalities and departments bordering on the frontier, and the ac- counts of commercial travellers coming from beyond the Rhine, bore testimony that the Viscount de Mira- beau, brother of the celebrated Constituent, was at the head of six hundred men in the bishopric of Stras- burg ; that in the territory of the Elector of 3Iayence, and close to Worms, were numerous corps of deserters, under the orders of the Prince of Condc ; that the same state of things existed at Coblentz and in the whole electorate of Treves; that excesses and injuries had been perpetrated on French subjects ; and, finally, that a proposition had been made to General Wimpfen for delivering up Neuf-Brisach. These reports, com- ing in confirmation of all that was known from pub- lic rumour, drove the assembly to the highest pitch of exasperation. A project for a decree was instantly proposed, embodying a demand upon the electors to ilisband the emigrants. The question was prorogued for two days, in order that the assembly might not appear too precipitate. That term expired, and the debate was opened. Tlie deputy Isnard ushered in the discussion. He expatiated on the necessity of securing the tranquil- lity of the kingdom, not in a loose and fleeting man- ner, but upon durable fomidations, and of commanding it by prompt and vigorous measures, which should attest to all Europe the patriotic resolutions of Franca. " Fear not," said he, " to provoke the great powers to declare war against you ; interest has already de- cided their intentions ; your measures will not alter them, but they will oblige them to explain themselves. The conduct of France nmst respond to its new des- tiny. Enslaved under Louis XIV., it was neverthe- less valorous and great; to-day free, shall it be timid and weak ? It is a mistake, says Montesquieu, when it is imagined that a nation in a revolution is prone to be conquered ; it is readj-, on the contrary, to con- quer others." Loud applause follo^ved these words. He continued : " Capitulations are proposed to you ! You are asked to augment the royal prerogative, to augment the power of the king— of a man whose fiat can paralyse the energies of a whole nation — of a man with a reve- nue of thirty millions, whilst tens of thousands of our citizens perish in distress ! You are asked to restore the nobilitj^ ! Let aU the nobles of the earth assail us, and M'e, the French, dispensing our gold with one hand and grasping our steel with the other, will meet this haughty caste face to face, and compel it to undergo the torture of equality ! Speak to the ministers, to the king, and to Europe, the language which befits the representatives of France ! Tell the ministers that hitherto you have been dissatisfied with their conduct, and that by re- sponsibility you mean death !" Loud and long-con- tinued applause interrupted the speaker. " Tell Europe that 3'ou will respect the institutions of all kingdoms, but that if her cabinets stir up a war of kings against France, we will stir up a war of nations against kings!" Here the cheers of the auditors were renewed. " In- terrupt not my enthusiasm," exclaimed Isnard, " for it is that of liberty ! Tell Europe, then, that the battles fought by nations on the mandate of despots resemble the blows which two friends may deal each other in the dark, wlien stimidated by some perfidious villain ! Let the light but appear, they instantly embrace, and take vengeance on him who has deceived them. So also, if at the moment the armies of enemies contend with ours, the light of philosophy should strike their eyes, the nations would embrace in the face of de- throned tyrants, of a comforted world, and of an ap- plauding Heaven ! " * The enthusiasm excited by these words was such, that all thronged around the orator to press him in their arms. The decree which he supported was adopted upon the moment. M. de ^"aublanc was charged to carry it to the king, at the head of a de- putation of twenty-four members. By this decree, the assembly declared that it was imperative upon the executive to require the electors of Maj'ence and Treves, and other pi'inces of the empire, to disperse the assemblages formed on the frontier. It besought the king, at the same time, to expedite the negotia- tions set on foot for settling the indemnities exigible by the princes holding possessions in Alsace, M. de Vaublanc presented this decree in a firm and respectful address, much applauded by the assembly. " Sire," said he, " if the French, expelled from their country by the edict of Nantes, had assembled in arms on the frontiers — if they had been protected by the princes of Gennan3% we ask you, sire, what would have been the conduct of Louis XIV. ? Would he have permitted such assemblages ? What he would have doubtless done for his authority, may your ma- jesty do for the maintenance of the constitution ! " Louis XVI. having resolved, as we have previously stated, to correct the ill effects of the veto by acts soothing to public opinion, determined to proceed in * Sitting of the 29th November. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. Ill person to the assembly, and reply to its message by a speecli calculated to give it satisfaction. On the evening of the 14th December, the king re- paired to the hall, in accordance with a notification he had transmitted tliat morning by a simple note. He was received with profound silence. He said that the message of the assembly' demanded high considera- tion ; and that upon an occasion in wliich the honour of France was at stake, he deemed it expedient to come amongst them in person ; that participating the sentiments of the assembly, but wishful to avoid the scourge of war, he had endeavtmred to lure back the .leluded emigrants ; that friendly solicitations having been unavailing, he had anticipated the message of the representatives, and already notified to the electors, that if before the loth January all warlike preparations liad not ceased, they would be considered enemies of France ; that he had written to the emperor claiming ids intervention as head of tlie empire ; and that, in case satisfaction should not be obtained, lie would propose a declaration of war. He concluded by ob- serving, that all attempts to render the exercise of his authority displeasing to his mind would be fruitless ; tliat he would faitlifully guard the integrity of the constitution ; and that lie was deeply sensible how glorious it was to be the king of a free people. Applauses succeeded the silence, and indemnified the king for the sombre reception that had marked his entrance. The assembly, having resolved in the morning sitting that he slionld be answered by mes- sage, could not immediately express its satisfaction, but it decided that his discourse should be sent to the eighty-three departments. Narbonne shortly after- wards entered, to conununicate the measm-es that had been taken to ensuj-e the effect of the notifications addressed to the empire. One Inmdred and fifty thou- sand men were intended to be assembled on the Rhine, which, he added, was by no means impossible. Three generals were named to command them — Luckner, Rocharabeau, and Lafayette. Great applause greeted the last name. Narbonne furthermore stated, that he purposed leaving Paris to visit the frontiers, to inquire into the state of the fortified places, and to impart activity to the preparations for defence; that the as- sembly would doubtless grant the necessary supplies, and that it would not be niggardly in defence of liberty. " No ! no ! " responded from all sides. In conclusion, he asked if the assembly, although the legal number of marshals was complete, woiild not permit the king to confer that distinction on the two genends, Luckner and Rochambeau, thus intrusted with the preservation of liberty. Acclamations testi- fied the consent of the assembly, and the high satis- faction the energy of the young minister gave it. It was by such conduct Louis XVI. might have gained popularity, and conciUated the republicans, who de- sired a republic only because they believed a monarch incapable of loving and defending freedom. Advantage was taken of the satisfaction produced by these measures to notify the veto affixed to the decree against the priests. In the morning, care had been taken to publish in the journals the dismissal of the former diplomatic agents accused of aristocracy, and the nomination of successors. Owing to these l)recautions, the communication was heard without a murmur. The assembly had already exjjccted it, and the effect was not so unfavourable as might have been apprehended. We see how many manunivres the king was obliged to adopt in making use of his prerogative, and what dangers he incurred in employ- ing it. Had, then, the Constituent Assembly, which was accused of having annihilated him by its limita- tion, granted him the absolute veto, would it have been more efficient on that account? Did not the suspensive veto produce all the effect of the absolute veto ? What was it that failed the king? — legal power, or the power of opinion ? We perceive which by the result ; it was not a deficiency in efU'ctual preroga- tives that ruined Louis XVI., but the indiscreet use of those which he still wielded. The activity promised to the assembly was mani- fested in acts. The propositions for the expenses of war, and for the nomination of the two marshals, Luckner and Rochambeau, were l)rought forward without delay. Lafayette, called from the privacy into which he had retired, after his three years of turmoil, ijresented himself at the bar of the assembly, and was most favourably received. Battalions of the national guard accompanied him on his exit from Paris ; and all proved to him that the name of La- fayette h;id not fallen into oblivion, and that he was still regarded as one of the founders of liberty. However, Leopold, naturally of a pacific tempera- ment, Avas not anxi(ms for war, as he was well aware it would be detrimental to his interests ; but he desired a congress, backed by an imposing force, as a means of leading to an accommodation, and enforcing some mo- difications in the constitution. The emigrants, indeed, were eager, not for its modification, but fiir its destruc- tion ; the emperor, more sagacious and enhghtened, felt that great concessions were needful to the new opinions ; and that the utmost that could be desired was the restoration to the king of certain prerogatives, and an amendment in the composition of the legisla- tive body, by its being established in two chambers instead of one.* This last project was the one most * I have already had occasion to refer, upon several occasions, to the intentions of Leopold, Louis XVL, and the emigrants. I shall here present several extracts, which will show them in the dearest manner. Boiiilld, who had gone abroad, and whose re- putation and talents caused him to be much sought after by the sovereigns, had better opportunities than any one else of ascer- taining the sentiments of the various courts, and his testimony carmot be at all suspected. The following are the terms in which he expresses himself in dififerent parts of his Memoirs :— " It may be judged from this letter that the King of Sweden was in great uncertainty touching the real designs of the emperor and his allies, who then seemed indisposed to interfere any further in the atfairs of France. The Empress (Catherine) , no doubt, was aware of them, but she had not communicated them to him. I knew that, at this moment, she was employing all her influence with the emperor and the King of Prussia, to induce them to declare war against France. She had even ^vTitten a very strong letter to the first of those sovereigns, in which she represented to him that the King of Prussia, on account of a simple breach of politeness towards his sister, had caused an army to enter Hol- li'jid, whilst he calmly suffered the insults and affronts that were heaped on the Queen of France, the degradation of her rank and dignity, and the annihilation of the throne of a king, his brotlier- in-law and ally. The empress spoke with the same energy to Spain, which had adopted pacific sentiments. However, the em- peror, after the king's acceptance of the constitution, had again received the French ambassador, whom he had previously for- bidden to appear at his court. He was even the first to admit the national flag into his ports. The courts of Madrid, Petersburg, and Stockholm, were the only ones which, at tliis period, with- drew theu- ambassadors from Paris. All these circumstances tend to prove, therefore, that the views of Leopold were inclined to peace, and that they resulted from the influence of Louis XVI. and the queen." — Memoirs ofBouUW, p. 314. Again, Bouill(5 says : — " Several months elapsed, in the mean time, without my per- ceiving any issue to the projects entertained by the emperor of assembling armies on the frontier, of lioUling a congi-oss, and of entering upon a negotiation with tlie French go\'ernment. 1 presumed, that the king had fonned hopes tliat liis aceoptjince of the constitution would restore to him his personal freedom, wliich an armed negotiation might have endangered, and tliat lie liad consotiuently urged the emperor, and the other sovereigns his iillies, to take no step which might provoke those liostilities he liad constantly laboured to avoid. I was confirmed in this opinion by tlie reserve of the court of Spain, as to the proposition for fiu-nishing the King of Sweden with fifteen millions of livres tournoi.i, which it had engaged to pay him in aid of the expenses of his e.\i>edition. That prince had instructed me to writo on his behalf to the Spanish ministry, from whom 1 received only vague answers. I then advised the King of Sweden to open a loan in Holland, under tlic guarantee of Spain, the dispositions of wliich HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. ileprecated, and that witli which the Feuillant or con- s^titutional party was most frequently reproached. It is certain, that "if this party hail, in the early times of the Constituent Assembly, repudiated an upper cham- ber, from its rational apprehensions that the nobility would take up an offensive attitude in it, its fears were now no longer the same ; on the contrary, it had well- grounded hopes of itself almost solely composing such a chamber. Numbers of the old Constituents, at pre- sent fidlen into complete nullity, would have found it an opportimity for re-entering on the political stage. If, therefore, this upper chamber was not precisely in their plans, it was perfectly consistent with theu- in- power appeared to me nevertheless greatly changed with respect to France. I learnt that anarchy was increasing every day in France, which was but too well proved by the crowds of emigr.ints from all parts, who were taking refucje on the foreign frontiers. Arms were given them, they were formed into regiments on the banks of the Rhine, and a small army was thus composed, which threatened the provinces of Alsiee and Lorraine. These proceedings aroused the fury of the pejple. and promoted the destructive projects of the J;icobins and an.irchists. The emigrants had even determined to make an attempt on Stra-sburg, in which they relied on having sure intelligence, and partisans who were prepared to open them the gates. The king, who was apprised of this scheme, employed commands, and even entreaties, to stop them ; and to prevent them from performing smy act of hostility, he dispatched for this purpose, to the princes his brothers, the Buron de Viom^nil and the Chevalier de Cngny, who testified to them, in his name, his disapprobation of the arming of the Frencli nobility, to wliich the emperor opposed all possible obstacles, but which continued nevertheless."— I6/V/. p. 309. Fin.ally, BouilU- relates, after Leopold himself, his pLm of a congress : — " On the 12th September, at length, the Emperor Leopold de- sired me to wait upon him and to bring him the plan of military dispositions he had previously requested from me. lie made me enter his cabinet, and told me he had not been able to speak with me sooner upon the subject for which he had summoned me, be- cause he Wins waiting for the answers of Russia, Spain, England, and the Italian principalities ; that he had now received them ; that they were conformable to his plans and wishes ; that he was assured of their assistance in the execution, and of their conjunc- tion, with tie exception of the cabinet of St James's, which had declare M.iyencc, where thcCount de Brown, who was to command his triKips, and who was then in the Low Countries, would send to apprise me, as al.w the Prince de Hohenlohc, who was proceed- ing to Friinconia, so that we might confer together when the pro- per time sliould arrive. I concluded that the emperor had only resolved upon this pacific and extremely moderate pbui, since the conferences at Pilnitz, iifter consulting Louis XVI., «liose voice was constantly for an arrangement, and for employing the medium of negotiations rather thiui the violent e-xpedicnt of arms."— ////i-essions were repeated. " Look to the dishes!" they cried from all sides, as if the}' feared 114 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. he would throw poison upon them. They hustled him, trod upon his toes, and compelled him to retire. Whilst descending tlie staircase, he was exposed to fresh injuries, and he left tlie palace highly exaspe- rated, concluding that the king and queen had pur- posely arranged this humiliating scene for him. But they were, on the contrary, deeply concerned at the imprudence of their courtiers, of which they had not the slightest previous cognisance.* The duke was natundly more irritated than ever, although he cer- taiidy became neither a more active nor a more able party-leader than ft)rmerly. Such of his friends as belonged to tlie Jacobin Club and the assembly un- questiona])ly made a little more stir, whence liis fac- tion was tliought to be again rearing its head, and many concluded that his i)retensions and hopes were reviving with the perils of the throne. The Girondists considered that the Cordeliers and ultra Jacobins advocated peace merely to deprive Lafayette, the rival of tlie Duke of Orleans, of the renown it might procure him. AVhether their con- jecture were right or not, the war party was sure to prevail in the assembly, where they had the predomi- nance. That body commenced by placing mider im- peachment, on the 1st of January, Monsieur, the king's eldest brother, the Count d'Artois, the Prince of Conde, Calonne, :Mirabeau the younger, and La- queuille, as guilty of hostility against France. A decree of impeaclmient not being dependent on the royal sanction, the veto was not to be apprehended upon this occasion. The sequestration of tlie posses- sions of emigrants, and the collection of their revenues for the good of the state, already enacted by the un- sanctioned decree, were prescribed anew by a fresh decree, to which the king offered no opposition. The assembly confiscated the revenues as indemnities for the charges of war. Monsieur was deprived of the regency by virtue of the decision previously pronounced. The report upon the last official note of the emperor was presented to the assembly, on the 14th January, by Gensonnc. In it he insisted that France had con- stantly lavished her treasm-es and her blood in behalf of Austria, without ever receiving any return ; that the treaty of alliance, concluded in 1756, had been violated by tlie declaration of Pilnitz and those that followed it, the object of which had been to compass an armed coalition of sovereigns ; that it had been * Bertrand do MoUeville relates this circumstance in the fol- lowing manner :— " I gave an account at the council the same day of the visit which the Uuke of Orleans had paid nie, and of our conversation. The king detcnnined to receive him, and had an interview with him on the following day, which lasted more than half an hour, with which his majesty appeared to have heen well satisfied. ' I think with you,' Siiid lie, addressing me, ' that he sincerely re- pents, and will do all he cim to repair the mischief he has effected, in which it is possible he has not had so gi-eat a share as we be- lievc. again broken by the arming of the emigrants, allowed, and even aided, by the princes of the empire. Gen- sonnc furthermore alleged, that although orders had been recently given for the dispersion of the emigrant assemblages, those apparent orders had not been exe- cuted ; that the white cockade had not ceased to be worn lieyond tlie Rhine, the national cockade to be outraged, and French travellers to be ill-treated ; and that, in consequence, it was necessary to demand from the emperor a final explanation with reference to tlie treaty of 1756. The printing of tliis report, and the postponement of its consideration, were ordered. On the same day, Guadet mounted the tribune. " Of all the circimistances," said li(;, " wliich have been communicated to the assembly, that wliich has caused tlie greatest sensation is the plan of a congress, with the design of obtaining a modification in the French constitution — a plan long suspected to be in agitation, and finally denounced as probable by the committees and ministers. If it be true that this in- trigue is conducted by men who see in it a means of escaping from the political nullity into which they have recently sunk ; if it be true that certain agents of the executive power are abetting, with all the in- fluence of their stations, this abominable plot ; if it be true that hopes are entertained we shall be drawn by procrastination and discouragement to accept this disgraceful mediation, ought the nationid assembly to close its eyes to such dangers ? Let us all swear to die here, rather" He was not allowed to finish the sentence ; the whole assembly rose, with the una- nimous cry, " Yes, yes — we swear! " And it enthusias- tically declared every Frenchman infamous, and a traitor to his country, who should concur in a congress assembled with the design of modifying the constitu- tion. This decree was principally levelled against the old constitutionidists and the minister Delessart. The latter was especiaUy obnoxious, being accused of purposely lengthening out the negotiations. On the 17th, the debate upon Gensomic's report was resumed; and it was decreed that the king shoidd no longer treat but in the name of the French nation, and that he should require the emperor to give a definitive ex- planation before the 1st of March ensuing. The king replied that he had already, a fortnight before, de maiided positive explications from Leopold. In the mean time, it was commmiicated that the Elector of Treves, alarmed at the resolute tone of the French cabinet, had given fresh orders for the dis- banding of the armed bodies, for the sale of the maga- zines collected in his territory, and for the prohibition of recruiting and disciplining ; and that these orders were actually enforced. In the prevailing disposition of men's minds, such intelligence was cokUy received. It was held to convey mere vain and abortive demon- strations ; and the definitive reply of Leopold was not the less strenuously called for. Divisions existed in the ministry between Bertrand de MoUeville and Narlionne. Bertrand was envious of the popularity enjoyed by the minister at war, and censured Ins ingratiating demeanour towards the as- sembly. Narbonne complained of the conduct and unconstitutional tendencues of Bertrand de MoUeville, and demanded that the king should dismiss him from the administration. Caluer de Gerville held the balance between them, but miavailingly. It was alleged that the constitutional party desired to raise Narbonne to the post of prime minister ; and it seems certain that the king was misled, tliat the popularity and ambition of Narbonne were represented to him in alarming colours, and that he was brought to con- sider him as a presumptuous young man, scheming to govern the cabinet. Tliese divisions were soon known to the journalists : Brissot and the Gironde zealously defended the minister threatened with dis- grace, and fiercely attacked liis colleagues and the king. A letter, written by the three generals of the northern armies to Narbonne, in which they expressed (/ i/^/.mM^u^i/ A,y>,„..,//^ ^:.y^./z.. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 115 to him the appreliension they felt respecting his dis- missal, -which they understood to be imminent, was published. The king immediately superseded him ; but, as a coimterpoise to the effect of this step, he announced the dismissal of Bertrand de MoUeville also. Nevertheless, the sensation excited by Narbonne's dis- placement was not thereby lessened ; an extraordinary agitation forthwith broke out, and the assembly was moved to declare, according to the formula previously employed towards Necker, that Narbonne possessed the confidence of the nation, and that the whole mini- stry had lost it. It was intended, however, to except from this sweeping condemnation Cahier de GerviUe, a steady opponent of Bertrand de MoUeville, and who had very recently had with him a violent dispute. After much confusion, Brissot undertook to prove that Delessart had betrayed tlie confidence of the nation. That minister had communicated to the diplomatic committee his correspondence with Kau- nitz. It was undignified ; it even gave Kaunitz an unfavourable idea of the state of France, and seemed to have authorised the conduct and language of Leo- pold. We must bear in mind that Delessart, and his colleague Duport-Dutertre, were the two ministers who belonged to the Feuillants, and wlio had become the more obnoxious from the beUef that they favoured the project of a congress. During one of the most stormy sittings of the as- sembly, the unfortunate Delessart was formally ac- cused by Brissot of liaving compromised the dignity of the nation ; of not having apprised the assembly of the concert amongst tlie powers, or notified the decla- ration of Pilnitz ; of having professed in his dispatches unconstitutional doctrines ; of having given to Kau- nitz a false idea of the state of France ; of having protracted the negotiations, and conducted them in a manner opposed to the interests of the country. Verg- niaud supported Brissot, and added fresli complaints to those already cliarged against Delessart. He re- proached him for having, when minister of the interior, kept too long in his portfolio the decree which united the Comtat to France, and being thus the cause of the massacres at Avignon. He then subjoined : " From this tribune in which I speak, I perceive the palace where perverse counsellors mislead and deceive the king whom the constitution has given us ; I see the windows of the palace where the counter-revolution is plotting — where the means are canvassing to re- plunge us into slavery. Terror has often stalked from that famous palace in times of old, and in tlie name of despotism ; now let it enter in the name of tlie law, let it penetrate all hearts within its walls — let all who dwell there know tliat our constitution grants inviola- bility to the king alone." The motion for impeachment Avas immediately put to tlie vote, and adopted.* Delessart was sent to the high national court established at Orleans, and em- powered, in terms of the constitution, to judge state- criminals. Tlie king experienced profound sorrow at his departure. He had possessed his entire confi- dence, and gained his esteem by the moderate and pacific views he advocated. Duport-Dutertre, the minister of the constitutional party, was likewise threatened with impoachmont ; but he anticijiated it ; demanded to be hoard in justification ; was absolved by passing to the order of the day, and immediately afterwards tendered his resignation. Caliicr de Ger- ville also gave in liis ; and in this manner the king found himself deprived of the only one of liis mini- sters who had any reputation for patriotism with the assembly. Severed from the ministers whom the Feuillants had given him, and at a loss wliere to seek support amidst the storm, Louis XVI., who liad dismissed Narbonne because he was too popular, resolved to unite himself with tlie Gironde, which was republican. * Sit(iii(r of tlic lOtli Miirch. It is true, it was only so from distrust of the king, who might, by placing himself in its hands, have suc- ceeded in attacliing it to his person ; but it was neces. sary that his surrender should be cordial and sincere, and the eternal question of his good faith arose in this instance as upon aU previous occasions. Doubtless, Louis XVI. Avas honest when he yielded himself to a party, but he did so with chagrin and reluctance. Consequently, so soon as the party proposed some unpalatable but indispensable condition, he rejected it ; distrust was immediately generated, alienation ensued, and a speedy rupture was the issue of tliose misplaced alliances between minds too exclusively occupied by opposing interests. It was thus that Louis XVI., after admitting to his council the Feuil- laut party, had splenetically repudiated Narbonne, who Avas its most decided leader, and found himself compelled, as tlie only means of composing the storm, to give himself up to the mercy of the Gironde. Tlie ex- ample of England, Avhere the sovereign often selects his ministers from the opposition, weighed with the king in inducing his present course. The court thereupon conceived a hope, for human ingenuity always dis- covers one even in the most dismal conjunctures. It flattered itself, then, that Louis XVI., by taking in- capable and ridiculous demagogues into the cabinet, Avould destroy the reputation of the party from Avhich he had chosen them. However, the result was far different, and the new ministry belied the malevolent prophecies of the courtiers. Upwards of a montli previously, Delessart and Nar- bonne had called to them a man Avhose talents they judged most precious, and placed him near them, to be rendered serviceable as emergencies miglit arise. This man was Dumouriez, who, alternately command- ing in Normandy and in La Vendee, had every Avhere distinguished himself for firmness and ability. He had offered himself first to tlie court, then to the Con- stituent Assembly ; for every party was to him the same, so long as he was allowed to exercise his active spirit and his extraordinary powers. Dumouriez, repressed as it were by the age, had passed his early years in diplomatic intrigues. With all his en- terprise, his military and political genius, and his halt century of years, at the commencement of the revolu- tion he was still nothing but a brilliant adA-enturer. He liad preserved, hoAvever, the fire and vigour of youth. So soon as a war or a revolution broke out, he formed his plans, laid them before all parties, ready to act for all, provided only action Avas accorded him. He had thus accustomed himself to make liglit of the nature of a cause ; but although too deficient in con- viction, he Avas generous, feeling, and capable of at- tacliment, if not to principles, at least to persons. But Avith a mind thus dazzling, prompt, and capacious, with a courage by turns calm and impetuous, he was admirable as an instrument, but incapable of swaj-ing. He possessed neitlier the dignity of a profound con- viction, nor tlie stubborn pride of an arbitrary dis- position, and he Avas capable of commanding none but soldiers. If to his genius had been joined the passions of Mirabeau, the determination of a Cromwell, or even the dogmatism of a Robespierre, ho would have domi- neered over the revolution and France. Dumouriez, on taking his place by the side of Nar- bonne, forthwith formed a vast military plan. He embraced at once an offensive and defensive war. Where Frtmcc stretched to her natural limits, the Rhine, the Alps, the PjTenees, and the ocean, he ad- vised she should stand on the defensive. Ihit on the side of the Low (\nintries, where the French territory did not reacli the Rhine, and on that of Savoy, Avherc it fell short of the AIjis, he maintained that sudden attacks should be made until the natural boundaries were attained, when the defensive should lie resumed. This plan consulted both interest and princijiles, framed as it was to take advantage of a war Avliich France had not provoked, to return, with respect to 116 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. boundaries, to the sinii)le landmarks of nature. He furthermore proposed the formation of a fourtli army, destined to occupy the south, and craved the command of it, which was promised him. Duniouriez had in.t,'ratiated liiinsolf with Gensonne, one of the civil connnissioners sent into La \'endce by the Constituent Assembly, since a deputy in the Legislative, and one of the most influential members of the Gironde. Having remarked, also, that the Jacobins were the ])red()iiiinant faction, be had ap- peared in their club, read divers memorials amidst great ajiplause, and not the less continued his ancient friendship with Delaj>orte, intendant of the civil list, and a devoted adherent of Louis XVL Thus con- nected with the dirtercnt parties upon the point of coalescing, Dumouriez could not fail to rise, and to be called to tlie tninistry. Louis XVI. ollered him the portfolio of lor"ign affairs, left on his hands by the decree of iin])eachment agamst Dclessart; but still attached to the impeacb.ed minister, the king ten- dered it to him only (id interim. Duniouriez, feeling himself powerfully sujjportcd, and unwilbngto appear as if keeping the ofiice for a Feuillant minister, re- fuse of the construction of the iron-chest and of the existence of a secret protest framed by the king against the declaration of wai'. The terror of the king for war partook of the extraordinary, and lie strove by all means to throw its odium upon the popular p^rty. " The king had a prodigious quantity of p.apers, and, unfortu- nately, conceived the idea of having secretly constructed, by a locksmith whom he had employed for more than ten years, a safe in an interior corridor of his apartment. This safe, but for the denunciation of that man, would have been long unknown. At the spot where it was placed, the wall was painted to resemble large stones, and the aperture was perfectly conce;Ued in the dark grooves which formed the shaded part of those painted stones. But before the locksmith had denounced to the assembly what has since l)een called the i roii-chest , the queen was aware that he hiul HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 11!/ Dumouriez drew up the report -with his accustomed celerity, and carried it to the king, who kept it for three days. It was a question whether the king, upon Avhom was tlirown the initiative with regard to the assembly, should urge it to declare war, or whether he should content himself with consulting it upon the subject, by the announcement that France, in accord- ance with the prescribed emergencies, was in a state of u-ar. The ministers, Roland and Claviere, declared for the first course. The orators of the Gironde like- wise supported tliat opinion, and desired to dictate the speech from the tlirone. It Avas a sad task for Louis XVI. to declare war, and he desired rather to declare a state of war. The distinction was of little impor- tance ; but it was more consonant to his feelings. So slight a deference to his peculiar position coidd do no injury. Dumouriez, more easily moved, paid no at- tention to tlie two ministers, and, supported by De- graves, Lacoste, and DmMuthon, secured the adoption of the king's opinion. This was his first difference with the Gironde. The king himself composed his speech, and repaired in person to the assembly, ac- companied by all his ministers. A vast concourse of spectators added to the effect of that day's sitting, which.was to decide the fate of France and of Europe. The countenance of the monarch was agitated, and bespoke profound solicitude. Dumouriez read a de- tailed report of the negotiations of France with the empire; lie demonstrated that the treaty of 1756 was de facto broken, and that, according to the last ulti- matum, France was in a state of war. He added, that the king having no oth.er legal mode of consulting the assembly than by a formal proposition of war, he was content to consult it in that form. Louis XVI. then spoke with mucli dignity, but in a nervous voice: — "Gentlemen," said he, "you have hoard the result of the negotiations which I iiave pur- s led witli the court of "N'ienna. The conclusions of tlie report express the unanimous opinion of my cjuncil, and I have myself adopted them. They are c )nformable to tlie wishes often manifested by the National Assembly, and to the sentiments conveyed to me by numerous citizens in diilerent parts of the kingdoiu. All prefer war to longer beholding the dignity of the French people outraged, and- the na- tional safety menaced. I have felt it incumbent on me previously to use all possible means to preserve jieace. I now come, according to the constitution, to propose to tlie National Assembly war against the King of Hungary and Bohemia." The most favourable reception was given to this spoken of it to somu of his companions, and that this man, in whom the king from habit placed too much confidence, was a Jacobin, irflie apprised the king of wliat liad thus come to her knowledge, and induced him to fill a very large portfolio with all the documents he was most interested hi preserving, and to in- trust it to my care. She urged him, in my presence, to leave iiothmg in that safe, and the king, to tranquillise her, assured her that he had left nothing in it. I wished to take the portfolio, and carry it into my apartment ; but it was too heavy for me to lift. Tlie king told me he would carry it himself ; I went before him to open the doors. When he had deposited the portfolio in my inner cabinet, he merely said to me, ' The queen will tell you what this contahis.' Ujion returning to the queen, I questioned her respecting it, judging from tlie king's words that it was e.xpedient 1 should be let into the secret. ' They arc,' the queen replied, ' documents which would be most fatal to the king, if they should proceed to the extremity of putting him on his triiil. But what he desires especially that I should tell you is, that tln^ portfolio contains the minutes of a jirivycouncil, in which tlie king pronounced an opinion against the war. He caused thcni to bo signed by all the ministers, and, in the event of such a process, he is confident that this document w ill be very useful.' I askeil to whom she tliouglit I ought to intrust the jiortfolio. ' To whom you please,' luiswered the queen ; ' you are aloxe responsible for it. Do not remove from the palace, even in your relief months ; there are circumstances in which it may be of groat consequence to have it forthcoming upon the instant.' "—Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 22i proposition, and cries of " Long live the king !" re- sounded from all sides. The assembly answered tlie king that it would forthwith enter upon deliberation, and would connnunicate the result to him by message. A very stormy debate then commenced, and was con- tinued into the dead of night. The reasons already stated were repeated for and against; but at last the decree was passed, and war resolved on by a great majority. " Considering," ran the assembly's decree, " that the court of Vienna, in contempt of treaties, has not ceased to grant avowed protection to French rel)cls ; that it has urged and formed an alliance with several European powers against the independence and safety of the French nation : That Francis the First, King of Hungary and Bo- hemia,* has, by his notes of the 18th March and 7th A]iril last, refused to renounce this alliance : That, notwithstanding the proposal made to him by the note of the lltli March last, to reduce on cither side the troops upon the frontiers to the peace establishment, he has persisted in and increased his hostile preparations : That he has formally outraged the sovereignty of the French nation, by declaring his determination to support the pretensions of the German princes hold- ing possessions in France, to whom the French nation has constantly offered indemnities : That he has endeavoured to sow discord amongst French citizens, and to arm them against each other, by offering to malecontents a support in the union of the powers : Considering, lastly, that the refusal to answer the last dispatches of the King of the French destroys all hope of obtaining, by the course of an amicable nego- tiation, any redress for these multifarious grievances, and is equivalent to a declaration of war, — The assembly declares there is the requisite ur- gency."! It must be granted that this cruel war, which so long desolated Europe, was not provoked hy France, but by the foreign powers. France, in declaring it, did but record by a decree the state in which they had placed her. Condorcet was selected to compose an exposition of the motives of the French nation. History ought to cherish this document, so exquisite a model is it of clear and temperate reasoning. J * Francis 1. jvas not yet elected emperor. t [M. Thiers has omitted the concluding and main terms of this momentous decree. It proceeds: " The National Assembly deliberating on the king's formal proposition, and having declared that there is urgency, decrees war agamst the King of Hungary and Bohemia."] t Exposition of the motives which liave determined the Natioml Assanbly to declare, ujmn tlie formal proposition of the Kinrj, that there are grounds for declaring war against the King of Hungary and Bohemia; by M. Condorcet. — {Sittiig of the 2i)th April 170-2.) " Impelled to consent to war by the most imperious necessity, the National Assembly is aware that it will be accused of having hastened or provoked it. It feels that the insidious course of the court of Vienna ban been framed solely with a view to give a shadow of foundation to this iiii])utation, which is precious to the foreign powers as a blind to their people upon the real motives of their unjust attack against France ; it knows that this reproach will be repeated by the internal enemies of oiir constitution and our laws, in the criminal hope of wresting from the representatives of the nation the public confidence. A simple exposition of their policy is their sole vindication, and they address it with cqiuil composure to aliens and Frenchmen, since nature has planted the same sentiments of justice in the hearts of all men. Kvery nation has the sole power to frame laws for itself, and the inalien.ible right to alter tbein. This right belongs to none, or it belongs to all in perfect equality ; to attack it in one, is to declare that it is recognised in none other ; a design to ravish it by force from a foreign nation, is an announcement that the intervener docs not respect it in that of which lie is a citi.ien or the chief; it is to beti-ay his own country, to proclaim him:%lf 120 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. The prociamation of war caused general joy. The patriots saw in it an cnfl to the fears which the emi- gration and the uncertain conduct of the king caused the enemy of the human race ! Tlie French nation might justly conchide, that trutlis so simple would prevail with all princes, und that, in theeighteonth century, none would venture to oppose them w ith the antiquated maxims of tyranny ; but its hopes have been falsified ; a league lias been formed against its independence, and there is left to ii but the alternative of convincing its enemies of the justice of its cause, or of opposing them by force of arms. Apprised of this tlire.itening league, but anxious to preserve peace, the National Assembly first inquired what object was embraced in thii. union of powers so long rivals, and an answer was given tliat its motives were the maintenance of general tran- quillity, the security and honour of crowns, the fear of witness- ing a renewal of events which certain epochs of the French revolution have brouglit fortli. Rut how did France menace the general tranquillity, when it had Uiken a solemn resolution to attempt no conquest, to attack the liberty of no people— wlien, during the long und sangiiinary strife which raged in the Low Countries and in tlie states of Liege between governments and citizens, it observed the most rigorous neutrality ? Doubtless, the French nation has openly proclaimed that sovereignty belongs only to the people, who, restricted in the exercise of their will by the rights of posterity, cannot delegate irrevocable power ; doubtless, it hits distinctly asserted that no usjige, no express law, no consent, no convention, is of efficacy to subject a society of men to any authority which they have not the right to recall ; but what idea do these princes entertain of tlie legitimacy of their own power, or of the justice with whicli they exercise it, if they regard the enunciation of these maxims as an enterprise against the tranquillity of their states ? Will they allege that tliis tranquillity must be surely troubled by the works and discourses of certain Frenchmen ? This would be tantamount, ag-.iin, to a demand under threat of arms for a law against the liberty of the press, a declaration of war against the progress of reason ; and when it is notorious that the French nation has been every where scandalised with impunity, that the presses of neighbouring countries have never ceased from pouring into our depiu-tments works designed to stimulate treason, to counsel revolt ; and when the evidences of protection and favour to their authors are remembered— will it be believed that a sincere love of peace, and not a hatred of liberty, has inspired tliese h} pocritical reproaches ? Objections have been made to endeavours, on the part of the French, to excite neighbouring nations to bro;ik their fetters, to reclaim their i,'hts. Hut the ministers who have dilated on these imputations, without daring to cite a -ingle fact in support of them, knew well how gromuUess they were ; and had they ev.n been real, powers which have permitted the assemblages of jur emigrants, have afforded them succours, have received their envoys, have publicly admitted them to their conferences, and have not blushed to exhort the French to civil war, would have no right to complain ; otherwise, it has become an axiom, tliat to extend servitude is allowable, to propagate libTty is criminal ; that all expedients are legitimate against nations ; and that kings alone have actual rights. Never, surely, did the pride of mo- narchs so audaciously insult the majesty of nations ! The French people, free to settle the form of their own consti- tution, could not endanger, by using that prerogative, either the securit}' or the honour of foreign crowns. Do the chiefs of other ountries rank amonvst their attributes the power to compel the French nation to confer on the chief of its government an autho- rity equal to what theniselves exercise in their states? Would they, because they have subjects, interdict free men from else- where existing? And do they not perceive, that, by permitting all means for ensuring what they denominate the security of crowns, they decUired legitimate all that a nation may undertake in favour of universal liberty ? If violences, if crimes, have tarnished certain epochs of the French revolution, to tlie depositaries of the national will alone lKlonpeendeiice. She was justified in demanding a renunciation of injmious projects, and in regard- ing the refusal as an act of hostility; such are the principles which have actuated the proceeding: of the National Assembly. It has continued to desire peace, but it must prefer war to a patience perilous to liberty ; it could not conceal from itself, that changes in the constitution, subversive of the equality upon which it is based, were the sole design of the enemies of France — that they purposed to chastise her for having recognised, in their full extent, the rights common to all mankind ; and it was then that it took the oath, reverberated throughout France, to perish rather I than suUer the least infringement upon the liberty of citizens, . upon the sovereignty of the nation, and, above all, upon that equality withiut which there is neither justice nor happiness for societies. Are the French reproached for not sufficiently respecting the rights of others, by offering only pecuniary indemnities to the German princes, proprietors in Als.ace, and to the pope ? Treaties had recognised the sovereignty of France over Als.ace, and, for more than a century, it has been peaceably exercised. The riglits which those treaties had reserved, were simply privi- leges; the meaning of that reservation, therefore, w;is, that the holders of fiefs in Alsace should retain them with the ancient prerogatives, so long as the general laws of France should permit the various forms of feudalism ; that reservation also signified, that if the feudal rights were included in one common abrogation , the nation would owe a satisfaction to the possessors, for the substanti.\I advantages resulting therefrom ; for such is all that the right of property can demand, when it is in opposition to the law, in 'jontradiction to the public weal. The citizens of Alsace are Frenchmen, and the nation could not, without disgrace and injustice, allow tliem to be deprived of the smallest jiortion of rights common to all whom that appellation ought equally to shelter. Will it be said, tliat, in order to indemnify the princes, a part of the territory should be abandoned to them ? No ; a free and generous nation traffics not with men ; it condemns not to slavery, nor delivers up to masters those whom it has once ad- mitted to a participation of its liberty. The citizens of the Comtats were in a position to give themselves a constitution ; they might have declared themselves indepen- dent—they preferred being Frenchmen ; and France will not abandon them after having adopted them. Had she refused to grant their request, their district is enclosed by bcr territory, and she could not have permitted their oppressors to traverse a land of liberty when bent upon punishing men for daring to render themselves independent, and to resume their rights. AU the pope possessed in tliat country was a revenue for gubernatorial functions ; the people, when they relieved him from those func- tions, made use of a privilege which long servitude had suspended but could not take away ; and the indemnity proposed by France was not even exigible in justice. Thus, what is arrogantly demanded in the name of the pope and the princes holding possessions in Alsace, involves further viola- tions of natural right. It is still for the pretensions of a few men that the blood of nations is to flow .' And if the ministers of the house of Austria had resolved to declare war against reason in the name of prejudices, against populations in the name of kings, they could have held no other language ! It has been asserted that the voice of the French people for the maintenance of its equality and its independence, is that of a fac- tion. But tlie French nation has a constitution ; that constitu- tion has been acknowledged and adopted by the general body of the citizens ; it ainnot be altered but by the will of the people, and according to forms which itself has prescribed ; so long as it subsists, the powers established under it have alone the right to [)romulgate the national determination, and it is through them that such detennination has been made known to foreign states. It is the king, who, at the request of the National Assembly, and in fulfilment of the functions conferred on him by the constitu- tion, has complained of the protection aflbrded to the emigrants, and hiis fruitlessly demanded that it should be withheld ; it is he who has asked for explanations concerning the league formed against France ; it is he who has insisted tliat this league should be dissolved ; and it is a just m.itter of astonishment to hear the solemn resolve of a nation, publicly expressed by its legitimate HISTORY OF THE FREMCH REVOLUTION. l-Jl all those turbulent spirits hatched by the revolution. A few Feuillants alone, ■vvell-inclined to impute faults to the assembly, reproached it with haA'ing violated the constitution, according to vhich France was de- barred from ever being in a state of aggression. But it was too palpable that, in the present instance, France did not attack. Consequently, putting aside the king and certain nialecontents, war was the gene- ral desire. Lafayette prepared courageously to serve his coun- try in this new career. It was he who Avas principally charged with the execution of the plan laid down l)y Dumouriez and apparently ordered by Degraves. Du- mouriez had reasonably flattered himself, and had led the patriots confidently to anticipate, that the invasion of Belgium would be an easy operation. That country, recently agitated bj' a rev(jlution which Austria had suppressed, was naturally judged disposed to rise at the first appearance of the French ; and then would be realised that warning of the assembly to sovereigns, " If you send vs war, we will return you liberty." Further- more, such an expedition was in execution of Duraou- ricz's great plan, which consisted in extending France to her natural boundaries. Rochamlieau commanded the army nearest the intended scene of action, but it was impossible to intrust him with the enterprise, on account of his peevish and sickly temperament, and above all, because he was less suitable tlian Lafa3-ette for an invasion half-military and half-popular. It was desired that Lafayette shoidd have the command-in- chief, but Dumouriez refused to consent, doubtless from envy. He alleged in excuse that the supreme command in this expedition could not be conferred upon a simple general in presence of a field-marshal. He likewise asserted, and this motive was better founded, that Lafayette was distrusted by the Jaco- bins and the assembly. It is quite certain that he, young, active, and the only one of the generals who was beloved by his army, alarmed the heated imagi- nations of the time, and gave, by his great influence, an air of probability to the calunmies of the malignant. However, he frankly and freely offered to execute the representatives, stigmatised as the cry of a petty faction. AVhat title equally worthy of respect can those kings invoice who coerce deluded nations to combat against the interests of their own free- dom, and to take up arms against rights which are their's also — to choke, under the ruins of the French constitution, the germs of their own felicity and the common hopes of the human race ? And, again, is it but a faction they would accuse of conspiring for the universal liberty of mankind ? It is, then, all humanity these cringing ministers presume to brand with that odious term ! But, say they, the king of the French is not free. A\Tiat ! is it inconsistent with freedcmi to respect the laws of a country ? Libert)' to coimteract or evade them, to oppose to them an alien force, is not a right, but a criminiil usurpation. Hence, in repudiating all these insidious propositions, in con- temning these flagrant declamations, the National Assembly has manifested, with reference to externnl relations, equal love of peace and care of popular liberty ; hence, the continuance of a. hostile toleration towards the emigrants, the open violation of promises to disperse their gatherings, the refusal to renounce a league palpably offensive, the insulting motives of such refusal, indicating a desire to annihilate the French constitution, are sufficient to authorise hostilities wliieli would have always been but acts of legitimate defence ; for it is not so much to .attack, as to deprive our enemies of leisure to exhaust our resources by continuous preparations, to plant all their snares, to assemble all their forces, to tighten tlieir present alliances, to contract others, to form further relations in the very midst of us, and to multiply conspiracies and intrigues in our provinces. Does he deserve the name of aggressor, who, threatened, outraged, by an unjust and perfidious foe, forest.als him in the advantage of striking the first blow! So far from provoking war, the National Assembly has done every thing to avert it. By seeking fresh explanations upon intentions which could not be dubious, it has shown that it reluctantly departed from the liope of a return to a sense of justice, and that if kings in their pride are reckless of their subjects' blood, the representatives of a free nationi in their humanity, are careful even of enemies' blood. Indiflerent to all provocations, to joint dijilomatic and military plan of the minister; he demanded fifty thousand men, with whom he proposed to proceed by Namur and tlie INIeuse to Liege, where he would become master of the Low Countries. This Avell-conceived project was approved by Dumouriez ; war in fact not having been declared' beyond a few- days, Austria had not had time to cover her possessions in Belgium, and success seemed inevitable. Accord- ingly, Lafayette had orders to march at once with ten thousand men from Givet to Nanmr, and fnnn Namur upon Liege or Brussels ; he was to be immediately followed by all his army. Wliilst he executed this movement, Lieutenant-General Biron was to set off from Valenciennes with ten thousand men, and proceed in the direction of Mons. Another officer was ordered to march upon Tournay, and occupy it by surprise. These movements, to be eflfected by officers of Roch- arabeau, were merely intended to support and mask the real attack intrusted to Lafayette. The period fixed for the execution of the plan was between the 20th April and the 2d May. Biron com- tnenced his march, passed through Valenciennes, seized upon Quievrain, and fell in with some hostile detachments near Mons. All at once, two dragoon regiments, witliout even having the enemy in sight, cried out, " We are betrayed 1" took to flight, and carried the wliole army in their train. The officers attempted in vain to stop them ; they threatened to shoot them, and continued to fly. The camp was abandoned, an(i all the military stores became the prey of the Impe- rialists. Whilst this event was passing at Mons, Theobald Dillon, in pursuance of the arrangement, left Lille Avith two tliousand infantry and one thousand horse. In the very hour of Biron's disaster, this cavalry, at; sight of some Austrian troops, retreated, shouting that it was betrayed ; it drew the infantry after it, and all tlie baggage was again abandoned to the enemy. Theobald Dillon, and an officer of engineers, named Berthois, were massacred by the soldiers and tlie people of Lille, who accused them of treachery. In the mean time, Lafayette, apprised too late, had passed all slanders, to the disregard of long-standing engagements, to the violations of recent pledges, to the dastardly duplicity concerning plots hatching against France, to the perfidious complaisance designed to shroud the succours and encouragement lavished on Frenchmen who have betrayed their country, it would still have accepted peace, had that which was offered been compatible with the maintenance of tlie constitution, tlie independence of the national sovereignty, and the safety of the commonwealtli. But the veil which concealed the intentions of our enemy is at length torn .' Citizens ! which of you would s ibscribe to these disgraceful propositions ? Feudal servitude and a humiliating inequality, bankruptcy and imposts payable by you alone, tithes and the inquisition, properties, purchased upon the public faith, wrested from you and given to their old usurpers, wild beasts restored to the right of ravaging your fields, your blood wasted for the .ambitious views of a hostile dj'n:isty — such are the conditions of the treaty between the King of Hungary and faithless French- men ! Such is the i)eace that is ofFi^red to you ! No ; you will never accept it! The cowards are at Coblentz, and France no longer contains in her bosom any but men worthy of liberty ! He announces in his own name, in the name of his allies, the purpose of exacting from the French nation an abandonment of its rights; he gives notice tliat he will wring from it sjicrifices, which the fear of its extermination could alone obtain from it. So be it !— it will never succumb ! This insulting pride, far from intimidating it, will but stimulate its courage. Time is needed to discipline the slaves of despotism ; but every man is a sos- sibly have been actuated by bad i'liith, because they were all interested in success. But jmrties always judge men instead of circumstances, so that they may fasten upon some one sudi disasters as occur. Degraves, dismayed at the outcry raised on account of these military events, determined to resign a charge which had long been burdensome to him; and Du- mouriez had the weakness to slum it. Lotiis XVI., still under the sway of the Giroude, gave the depart- ment to Servan, an old soldier, distinguished for his patriotic sentiments. This appointment gave addi- tional strength to the Gironde, which had now almost a majority in the council, having Servan, Claviere, and Roland in its interest. From this period, dis- union began to crec]) into the ministry. The Gironde became daily more distrustful, andconseiiuently more importunate for evidences of sincerity on the part of I-ouis XVI. Dumouriez, whom opinions little swayed, and wlioni the confidence of Louis XVI. had moved, always supported his views; and Lacoste, who was strongly attached to the monarch, did the same. I)u- ranthon remained neutral, and evinced no marked preference except for the weakest counsels. Servan, Claviere, and Roland, were inflexible ; fully impressed with the ai)prehensions of their friends, they becrane day by day more stubborn and inexorable iu the cabinet. An additional circumstance tended to embroil Du- mouriez with tlip ])rineipal members of the Gironde. Wlien taking olHce as minister for foreign affairs, he had deinandeil manner of imparting to me the tenor of the deli- berations, debates, and decrees of tlie National Assembly. I to weighty suspicions. The alarm then became gene- ral; tlie assembly declared itself permanent, as if the days had returned when thirty thousand men threatened Paris. But in truth, midtifarious grounds of apprehension existed : the non-juring priests were exciting the people in the southern provinces, and abusing the secrecy of the confessional to stimulate fanaticism ; the union of the powers was made mani- fest ; Prussia was on the point of joining Austria, the hastile armies were swelling into most formidable hosts, and the inscrutable disasters of Lille and Mons haunted all minds. And, furthermore, the efficacy of popular force is little trusted, and is never indeed be- lieved in until actually tested ; for an irregidar multi- tude, howsoever numerous it may be, is but a weak counterpoise to six thousand men armed and disci- pUned. The assem])ly consequently declared itself permanent (sitting of the 28th May), and called for an exact report upon the composition of the king's military household, upon the number, character, and conduct of those who constituted it. After having incontestibly demonstrated that the constitution had been violated, it passed a decree of disembodiment against the gtiard, another of impeachment against the Duke de Brissac, and sent both for the royal sanction. The king was at first disposed to affix the veto, but Dumouriez reminded him of the dismissal of his body-g-uards, who were much older in his service than his new military household, and entreated him to repeat a sacrifice much less painful. lie likewise convinced him of the infractions involved in the com- position of his guard ; and finally prevailed upon him to sanction the decree. Dumouriez, however, insisted upon its immediate re-formation ; but the king, whe- ther he had relapsed into his former poliej' of appearing under oppression, or placed rehance upon this dis- banded guard, to which he secretlj^ continued its pay, refused to have it replaced, and thus left himself with- out protection against popular outrage. The Gironde, meanwhile, giving up all hope of his good faith, jiursued its attacks with perseverance. Already it had carried a decree against the priests, in lieu of that M'hich the king had refused to sanction. Reports upon their factious conduct being inccss.'intly forwarded to the assembly, it had fulminated against them a decree of exile. The exact description of the culpable being difficult, and the measure, like all those of safety, being based on suspicion, it was in some sort upon notoriety that the priests were to be ar- raigned and driven forth. Upon the denunciation of twenty active citizens, backed by the approval of the district directory, the departmental directory was to pronounce banishment ; the condemned priest was to leave the canton in twenty-four hours, the depart- entered the queen's apartment every day, to give an account of them to the king, who used to say on seeing me, ' Ah ! here is the Calais courier ! ' One day, M. d'Aubier said to me, ' The assembly has been, much engaged with a denunciation made by the workmen in the manufactory at Sevres. They have carried to the president's desk a bundle of pamphlets which they describe as the life of JIiu"ie- Antoinette. The director of the manufactory was sununoncd to the bar, and he has declared that orders were given him to burn these printed sheets in the stoves used for hardening the moulds of his porcelain.' Whilst I was giving this account to the queen, the king reddened and drooped his head over his plate. The (pieen s;iid to him, ' I lave you any knowledge of this, sir ? ' The king gave no reply. Madame Elizabeth requested him to expbiin what this might mean; he kept the same silence. 1 innuediately retired. A few moments afterwards, the queen came into my room, and informed meth.ittheking, from regard to her. had caused the whole edition printed from the manuscript I had ottered her, to be bought uji ; and that ^I. de I.aportr had thought of no more mysterious modo of destroying the entire work tluui getting it consumed at .Sevres amongst two hundred workmen, nine-tenths of whom were known to be Jacobins. She told me she bad dissembled her dis- tress wliilst with the king, for he was greatly alarmed ; and she could say nothing when his tenderness and concern for her werp the causes of the accident."— it/aiM me Coiiijinn, vol. ii. p. liXi. 124 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. meut in three days, ami tlie kiiigtloni in a month. If he -were ]ioor, three livres (half-a-crown) a-day were granted him until he readied tlie frontiers. This severe law wave token of the increasing exasperation of the assenihlv.* Anotlier decree speedily followed it. Tlie minister Servan, without being ordered by tlie king, and without consulting Ids colleagues, pro- posed to form, on occasion of tlie approaching ledera- tion of the 14th July, a camp of 20,000 federalists, for the purpose of protec-ting tlie assembly and the capi- tal. It is easy to conceive witli what joy tliis project was received by the majority of tlie assembly, com- posed as it was of Girondists. At this moment their power was at its height. They completely governed the assembly, where the constitutionaUsts and repub- licans were "in a minority, and where the pretended " inipartials" were, as in all times, simply waverers, submissive in proportion as tlie majority Avaxed in strength. Besides, they ruled in Paris through Petioii, the nTayor. who was entirely devoted to them. Their design,"with reference to the proposed camp, was, (not fron" any personal ambition, but as a means of secur- ing preponderance to their party and opinions,) to render themselves masters of the king, and provide against his suspected intentions. So soon as Servan's proposition was known, Du- niouriez questioned him in full council, with much acrimony, under what character he liad brought for- ward sucli a proposal. He answered, " Under that of an individual." " In that case," exclaimed Dumouriez, "the title of minister of war should not be attached to the name of Servan." So Avarm a dispute ensued, that, but for the kings presence, blood might have stained the council-board. Servan offered to with- draw his proposition ; but that would have been of no avail, since the assembly had eagerly adopted it ; and the only gain to tlie king would have been the belief that he had violently coerced his minister. Dumouriez consequently opposed that course ; the motion stood, and was deprecated in a petition signed by eight thousand national guards, who expressed indignation that their services were held insufficient to protect the assembly. It was nevertheless carried, and the decree embodying it dispatclied to the king. There were thus two important decrees awaiting the sanc- tion, and already doubts were entertained that the king would refuse it. If so, a decisive resolution was intended to be passed against him. Dumouriez maintained at the council-board that the encampment would be fatal to the throne, and even to the Girondists, because the new army would be formed under the influence of the most violent Jacobins. He argued, nevertheless, that it must be adopted by the king ; because, if he refused to con- voke 20,000 men regularly chosen, 40,000 would rise spontaneously, and overrun the capital. He further- more gave it to be understood, that he knew of an expedient for rendering the measure abortive, which he would bring forward at a suitable time. With regard to the decree for the banishment of the priests, he was likewise of ojjinion it should be sanctioned, inasmuch as they were culpable, and as their exile would shelter them from the outrages of their enemies. Louis XVI. still hesitated, alleging that he needed further reflection. At the same council, Roland in- sisted uy)on reading, in the king's presence, a letter he liad already forwarded to him, which was certainly a work of supererogation, since the king was ac- quainted with its conttnits. This letter had been resolved upon at the instigation of Madame Roland, and composed by her. It had been previously mooted whether one should not be written to the king in the name of all the ministers. They having refused, Madame Roland had exercised her influence over her husband, and induced him to adopt the step in his own name. Dur.anthon, who was a weak, but * This decree beiirt date the 27tli May ; the gtibscquent one, rdative to the camp of 2i(l (k MdUi'villc, vol. viii. ji. .')!). * Bcrti-and de MoUeville, from whom I have borrowed the facts relative to Mallet-du-Pan, gives the following aeooimt of the re- ception he met with, and of the disimsitions he encountered :— l-2i HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. The queen was equally suspicious of thcin ; she was especiiilly apprehensive of Calonne, whom she viewed as the most danjjerous of her enemies;* but she did not the less conjure her family to act with the greatest promptitude for lier deliverance. From this moment tlie popular party came to regard the court as an enemy the more to be feared from its directing all the forces of the state ; and the struggle which ensued became one of life or death. In composing his new ministry, the king selected no man of note. Antici- pating a speedy deliverance, he thought only how to get over a few days more, and for that purpose a ministry of the most insignificant character was judged sufficient. Tlie Feuillants sougiit to profit by the opportunity to form a coidition with the court, less, it must be granted, from party or personal ambition, than from sympathy for tlie king. They placed no reliance on tiie benefits of inva>^ion; on the contrary, they for the most part viewed it as a criminal outrage, and, further- more, as a measure equally hazardous for the court as for tlie nation. They wisely foresaw the king would fall before the succours could arrive ; and after the invasion was perpetrated, they feared a course of un-^ relenting vengeance, perhaps the dismemberment of France, and ccrtaiidy the al)olition of all liberty. Lally-Toleudal, whom we have seen quit France " The different letters which Mallet-du-Pan wrote to me at this period (July 17921, were in substance as follows :— Ou the 1.5th and Itith July, he had had long ouiifercnces with Count Cobentzel, Count Haugwitz, and M. lluyman, ministers of the Emperor and the King of Prussia. After examining the proofs of hismission, and listening with profound attention to the reading of his instructions and his memori;il, they found that the vicnvs he recommended were in perfect accordance with those formerly manifested by the king to the courts of Vienna and Berlin, who had respectively adopted them. They had, in consequence, expressed entire oontidence in him, and approved, in every point, the draft of the manifesto he had proposed to them. Tliey had declared to him, in the most positive terms, that there was no view of ambition, of person;U interest, or of dismembering the kingdom, in the plan of the war ; and that the powers had no other purpose or interest tlian to restore order in France, because there could be no peace between that country and its neighbours, until it was delivered from the anarchy prevailing in it, and wliich obliged them to keep up lines of troops on all the frontiers, and to take extraordinary precautions, which were very expensive ; but that, far from pretending to impose any form of government whatever on the French, the king would be left at perfect freedom to act on that point in concert with the nation. They had asked from him the most circumstantial information respecting the dispositions preva- lent in the interior, respecting public opinion upon the old system, the parliaments, the nobility, xo/Afa denunciation per- ]M>tually liarjied uiion in the clubs, the newspapers, and the ]iiililic thorouglifares. Thus, to the alarms with which the court had in- spired the popular i)arty, were now added those to whicii Lafayette gave rise by his pecidiar acts. Hence that party gave way to all the violence of despair, and resolved to assail the court before it could put in exe- cution the plots with whicli it was charged. 130 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. We liiive already seen liow the popular pai'ty was coiujiosed. As it toi)k a more decided development, its characteristies <:;rew more violent, and new per- sonages rendered themselves remarkable in it. Robes- pierre had already made himself renowned at the Jacobins', and Danton at the Cordeliers'. The clubs, the municipality, and the sections, contained many men who, fripr.i tiie ardour of their tempers and opi- nions, were ready for any enterprise. Of this numlJer were Serj^ent and Panis, who somewhat later con- nected their names with a fearful event. In the fau- bourj^s resided several heads of battalions who had rendered themselves formidal)le, amongst whom the principal was a brewer named Sanrorre. From his stature, his voice, and a certain readiness of sjieech, he gained the popular favo'.ir, and had acquired a species of supremacy in the Faubourg St Antoine, the battalion of whicli he coimnanded. Santerrc had already distinguished himself at the assault on Vin- cennes, repelled by Lafayette in February 1791 ; and, lik(! idl reckless characters, he was capable of becoming dangerous according to the instigations of the moment. He took part in all the meetings held in the distant suburbs. In them were united with him the journalist Carra, prosecuted for having attacked Bertrand de Molleville and Montmorin ; a certain Alexandre, com- mandant of the Faubourg St Marceau ; an individual well known under the name of Fournier the Ameri- can ; the butcher Legendre, who was afterwards a deputy in the convention ; a journeyman jeweller called Rossignol ; and several others, who, by tlieir connexion with the populace, swayed all the faubourgs. Through the more distinguished amongst them, they connnunic;ited witli the leaders of the popular party, and were thus enaliled to direct their movements ac- cording to a superior impulse. It is impossible to designate very precisely those ■deputies who contributed to give that imi)ulse. The most conspicuous amongst them were strangers in Paris, and possessed no other influence than that gained by their eloquence. Guadet, Isnard, and Verg- niaud, all provincials, kept up a closer communica- tion with their departments than with Paris itself. Besides, although very energetic in the triljune, they displayed little activity out of the assembly, and were not fitted for moving a populace. Condorcet and Bris- sot, representatives of Paris, were not more active than the preceding ; and from tlieir conformity of opinion with the deputies of the west and south, they had become Girondists. Roland, since the dismissal of tlio patriot ministry, had returned to private life, dwell- ing iu a modest and obscure residence in the Rue St Jacques. Convinced that the court had a design to de- liver up France and liberty to foreigners, he deplored the calamities of his country with some of his friends, members of the assembly ; but it does not appear that an attack upon tlie court was discussed in his society. He merely assisted the publication of a pla- carded journal, called The Senthid, which Louvet, well known at the Jacobins' by his controversy witli liobespierre, edited in a truly patriotic spirit. Roland, during his ministry, had allotted funds to enlighten public opinion through the jiress, and it was with a remnant of these funds that the Sentinel was printed. At this period tliere was a young Marseillese at Paris, full of ardour, courage, and repu'nlican illu- sions, who was called the Antinoiis, from his singular comeliness. He had been disjiatchcd by his commune to the Legislative Assembly for the purpose of com- plaining of the directory of his department; for such divisions between inferior and superior authorities, between municipalities and departmental directories, were general tliroughout France. The name of this 3'oung Marseillese was Barbaroux. Possessed of in- telligence and great activity, he was well fitted to become useful to the popular cause. He saw Roland, and lamented with him the catastrophes wlierewith tlie patriots were menaced. They agreed that as the danger was becomiiig every day more imminent in the north of France, it would be expedient, when reduced to the last extremity, to retire into the south, and there found a republic; which might be one day extended, as Charles VII. had formerly extended his kingdom from the walls of Bourges. They surveyed the map of the ex-nunister Servan, and said to each other that, when beaten on the Rhine, liberty could retreat behind the Vosges and the Loire; that, charged in those entrencluuents, it would still have in the easf. the Doubs, the Ain, and the Rhone; in the west, Vienne and Dordogne ; and in the centre, the rocks and streams of the Limousin. " Farther still," adds Barbaroux himself, " we had Auvergne, its rugged precipices, its ravines, and its aged forests, and the mountains of Velay, formerly scorched by fire, now covered with firs — wild localities, where men till iu snow, but where they live independent. The Cevennes also of!ered us an asylum too renowned not to be for- midable to tyranny ; and at the extremity of the south, we found as barriers the Isere, the Durance, the Rhone from Lyons to the sea, the Alps, and the ramjnirts of Toulon. Finally, if all these points had been forced, there remained to us Corsica — that Corsica in whicli neither the Genoese nor the French have been alile to naturalise tyranny ; which only needs arms to render it fertile, and philosophers to become enlightened."* It was natural that the inhabitants of the south should resolve upon taking refuge in their provinces if the north were overrun. They did not, however, neglect the north, for they agreed to write to their departments, urging the spontaneous formation of the camp of twenty thousand men, although the decree relative to that camp had not been sanctioned. They relied greatly on Marseilles, a flourishing, populous, and singularly democratic city. It had sent Mirabeau to the states-general, and since then it had dissemi- nated through all the south tlie spirit with which itself was animated. The mayor of this city was a friend of Barbaroux, and partook all his opinions. Barbaroux M^rote to him to collect magazines of corn, to send trusty emissaries into the neighbouring de- partments, as Avell as to the armies of the Alps, of Italy, and of the Pyrenees, in order to give opinion its tone in all of them ; to sound Montesquiou, general of the army of the Alps, and to render his ambition profitable to the cause of liberty ; finally, to concert with Paoli and the Corsicans, so as to secure a last aid and a last asylum. It was, moreover, recommended to this same mayor to retain the produce of the taxes, in order to deprive the executive power of the corre- sponding benefit, and, in case of need, to use the funds against it. What Barbaroux did with respect to Mar- seilles, others did with their departments, and took measures to prepare them as places of refuge. Thus distrust, converted into despair, was preparing a gene- ral insurrection, and in these insurrectionary prepa- rations, a difference was already perceptible between Paris and the departments. The mayor Potion, intimate with all the Girondists, and at a later date ranked and proscribed with them, was, from the nature of his functions, more in con- nexion with the agitators of Paris. He was a man of infinite coolness, with an appearance of indifference which his enemies mistook for stupidity, and of an honesty wliich was lauded in exaggerated terms by his partisans, but which his detractors have never called in qiu^stion. The populace, who give by-names to all who strongly excite their interest, usually called him Virtue Fetion. We have already spoken of liim on the occasion of the flight to Varennes, and of the preference which tlie court gave him over Lafayette for the mayoralty of Paris. The court purposed to bribe him, and certain knaves undertook to eflfect its design. They demanded a sum of money, and kept * Memoirs of Bai-barou.\, pp. 38, 39. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH RE^'0LUT10N. 131 it for themselves, without even making any over- tures to Petion, which, indeed, his known character rendered needless. The joy of the coiu-t at securing a defender, and its glee at corrupting a pojiular mini- ster, were of short continuance ; it speedily learnt the trick that had been played upon it, and also that the virtues of its adversaries were not so marketable as it had surmised. Petion had been amongst the first to hold that the tendencies of a king, born to an absolute throne, can never be modified. He was a reimbliean before a republic was even dreamt of by any ; and in the Con- stituent Assembly, he was, from sincere conviction, what Robespierre was from acerbity of temper. Un- (liT the Legislative, he became more convinced th.an ever of the incorrigible faitlilessness of the court ; he felt assured it would call in foreigners ; and having been originally a republican from principle, he was fortified in Ids tendency by motives of safety. From tliat period, consequently, he began to think, as he said, of favouring a new revolution. He arrested movements badly planned, aided those, on the con- trary, which were well directed, and strove above all things to keep them in conformity to the laws, of which he was a rigid observer, and which he was determined not to violate but in the last extremity. AA'ithout affirming the participation of Petion in the movements which were preparing, without knowing whether he consulted his friends of the Gironde as to countenancmg them, we are justified in stating, from his conduct, that he did notliing in the way of oppos- ing obstacles to their execution. It is alleged, that towards the middle of June, he visited Santerre at his house, together with Robespierre ; Manuel, the official solicitor of the commune ; Sillery, an ex-deputy ; and Chabot, a deputy and ex-capucliin ; — that the latter harangued the section of the Quinze-Vingts, and told it that the assembly expected its assistance. Whatever may be the truth of these particular allegations, it is certain that secret conclaves were held ; and it is not probable, from their known opinions and subsequent conduct, that the persons whom we liave just named should scruple to attend them.* At this period tiie * Among the depositions given in the process instituted against tlie conspirators of the 20th June, is one extremely curious from its details, namely, that of the witness Larcynie. It alone con- tains almost all what the others repeat, on which account it is here quoted. The process itself has been published in quarto. " Before us appeared Sieur Jean-Baptiste-Marie-Louis Lareynie, a volunteer private in the hattalion of the Isle St Louis, decorated with the military cross, and residing at Paris, on the Quay Bourbon, No. 1. — Who, profoundly grieved at the disorders which have recently occurred in the capital, and believing that it is the duty of a good citizen to give to justice the information which it may require under the circumstances, for the purpose of punishing tlie schemers and instigators of all manoeuvres against the public tranquillity and the integrity of the French constitution, declares that, about eight days ago, lie was aware, by the relations he has j with the Faubourg St Antoine, that the citizens of that faubourg I were agitated by the Sieur Santerre, commanding the battalion of I the Enfants-Trouv^s lFoundlint;s),and by other persons, amongst whom were the Sieur Fournier, styling himself an American, and an elector of 1791 in the department of Paris ; the Sieur llotondo, styling himself an Italian ; the Sieur Legendre, butcher, residing in the Rue des Boucheries (Slaughterhouse Street), in the Fau- bourg 8t Germaine; and the Sieur Cuirette Verri6rcs, residing above the Cafe du Rendezvous, Hue du Thcatre-Franfuis— who nightly held meetings at tlie Sieur Santcrre's, and sometimes in the committee-room of the section of the Knfants-Trouves ; that there they deliberated, in presence of a select body of the trusty in the faubourg, such as the Sieur Itossignol, lately a journeyman jeweller ; the Sieur Nicolas, a sapper in the aforesaid battalion of the Enfants-Trouves ; the Sieur Bricrre, wine merchant ; the Sieur Gonor, calling himself a conqueror of the Bastille ; and others whom ho might name ; — that they settled in such meetings the questions intended to be agitated in the mobs of the Tuiltries. the Palais-Koyal, the Place de Gri:ve, and especially of the Gate St Antoine, Place de la Bastille ; that they wrote out the incen- diai'y placards affixed at intervals in the faubourgSt and the peti- faubourgs were rife with the idea of a festival for the j •20th June, the anniversary of the tennis-court oath. | It was intended, as was bruited abroad, to plant a tree ■ tions intended to be canied by deputations to the patriotic socie» ] ties of Paris ; and, finally, that it was there the famous petition was fabricated, and the plot of the 20th June hatched. That, on I the eve of that day, a se ret committee meeting was held at the Sieur Santcrre's, which began at midnight, at which witnesses, whom he wUl be able to adduce when they return from the mis- sion given to them by the Sieur Santerre for the neighbouring districts, asseverate they saw present Messieurs Potion, Mayor of Paris; Robespierre; Manuel, solicitor of the commune ; Alexan- dre, commander of the battalion of Saint-Micliel ; and Sillery, ex-deputy of the National Assembly. That, on the day of the 20th, the Sieur Santerre, seeing that several of his people, and especially the leaders of his partj', from alarm at the decree of the directory of the department, refused to come forth armed, under pretext they would be fired upon, assured them they had nothing to fear— that the national guard tcould have no orders, and that M. Petion woidd be there. That at eleven in the forenoon of the said day, the crowd did not exceed fifteen hundred persons, including the curious, and that it was only when the Sieur Santerre had put himself at the head of a detachment of invalids, which came out of his house, and with which he marched to the square, and had excited on the way the spectators to join him, that the mul- titude swelleil considerably upon his progress to the passage of the Feuillants; that when there, not daring to attack the post, he retired into the court of the Capuchins, where he caused the May- pole to be planted which he had destined for the palace of the Tuileries ; that thereupon he, the witness, asked several people in the train of the said Sieur Santerre, why the Maj-pole was not erected on the terrace of the palace, as had been fixed ; and that those people replied to him, that they would take care hoic they did so, that such was the snare into which the Feuillantins wished them to fall, because there were cannon pointed in the garden — but that they uvre not to be trapped. The witness observed that at this moment the crowd was almost entirely scattered, and that it was only when the drums and music were heard in the enclosure of the national assembly, that the rioters, then sprinkled here and there, rallied, joined the other spectators, and quietly defiled three abreast before the legislative body ; that he, the witness, remarked that those people, when passing into the Tuileries, gave way to nothing offensive, and did not attempt to enter the palace; that, when even assembled on the Place du Carrousel, which they had reached by making a circuit along the quay of the Lou\Te, they manifested no intention of penetrating into the courts, until the arrival of the Sieur Santerre, who was at the National Assembly, and did not leave it until the sitting broke up. That then the Sieur Santerre, accompanied by several per- sons, amongst whom he, the witness, remarked the Sienr de Saint-Hurugues, addressed his troop, hitherto quite tranquil, and dem-inded of them why they had not entered llie iiaJace; that they must go there, and had come out only for that purpose. That he immediately commanded the artillerymen of his battalion to fol- low him with a piece of ordnance, and said, that if the gate were closed against him, he would break it in with balls ; that he sub- sequently presented himself with this array at the gate of the palace, where he experienced a feeble resistance on the part of the horse gendarmerie, but a firm opposition on the part of the national guard ; that this occasioned considerable uproar and confusion, and they were apparently on the point of coming to blows, when two men, wearing scarfs of thenational colours, one of whom he, the witness, recognised as the Sieur Boucher-R^nd, and the other, who was named by the spectators as the Sieur Sergent, came up through the courts, aiul ordered them, he must say, in a very imperious if not insolent tone, prostituting the sacred name of the law, to open the gales, adding, that no one had a right to close thcni, and that every cilij:en had that of entering, ■ that the gates were in fact opened by the national guard, and that then SiUitene and his troop rushed pell-mell into the courts ; that the Sieur Santerre, who caused the cannon to be draggeil to force the doors of the king's apartments if he found them closed, and to fire upon any of the national guard who should oppose his in- road, was stopped in his progress in an inner court on the left, at the foot of the pavilion staircase, by a group of citizens, who spoke to him in the most reasonable terms, to moderate his fury, and threatened to hold him responsible for every miscliicf that might hai)pen on that disastrous day, because, they said to him, ' You alone are the author of this unconstitutional assemblage, you alone have misled these honest people, and ymi are the only malefactor amongst them.' That the tone in which these respectable citizens spoke to the Sieur Santerre made him turn pale, but that, encou- raged by a look from the Sieur Legendre, butcher as before men 132 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. of liberty on the terrace of the Feuillants, and to ad- dress a petition to the assembly, as also to the kln^'. This petition was desijciied to be presented under arms. Hence it is sutBciently clear that the real object of this plan was to scare the palace by an array of forty tliousand jiikes. On the IGth Jnne, a formal demand was laid before the council-j,'eneral of tlie commune, soliciting autho- rity for the citizens of the Faubourg Saint Antoiue to assemble on the 20th in arms, and present a petition to the assembly and the king. The council-general of the commune passed to the order of the day, and directed that its resolution in that respect should be communicated to the directory and the municipal body. The petitioners did not deem themselves in- terdicted by tliis course, and openly stated they would assemble notwithstanding. The mayor Petion only imparted on the 18th the communications ordered on the 16th, and then merely to the department, and not to the municipal body. On the 19th, the directory of the department, which had upon all occasions signalised itself in opposition to agitators, passed a resolution prohibiting armed assemblages, and charging the coTumander- in-chief and the mayor to take the necessary steps for dis- persing them. This resolution was signified to the assembly by the minister of the interior, and an im- mediate" question arose whether it should be allowed a reading. Vergniaud opposed its being heard; but he was overruled. Tlie reading was voted, but all idterior proceedings were thereon stopped by the order of the day. Two important events had just occurred at the assembly. The king had sent to signify his opposi- tion to the two decrees, the one relative to the non- juring priests, and the other to tlie establishment of a camp of twenty thousand men. This communica- tion had been heard in the deepest silence. At the same time some Marseillese had appeared at the bar, to read a petition. "We have seen what relations Barbaroux maintained with them. Stimulated by his counsels, they had written to Petion, offering him all their forces, 'and adding to this offer a petition in- tended for the assembly. In it they said amongst other things — " French liberty is in danger, but the patriotism of the south wiU save France. The day of popular wrath is come. Legislators! the strength of the people is in your hands : make use of it : French jiatriotism asks of you permission to march with more imposing force towards the capital and tlie frontiers. — You will not refuse a legal sanction to those who are prepared to perish in defence of the law." The reading of this petition gave rise to long de- bates in the assembly. Tlie members of the right side argued, that to send a copy of it to each of the departments was to invite insurrection. But the transmission was ordered, in spite of these remarks, doubtless very just, but unavailing umler the present firm persuasion that a new revolution alone could save France and liberty. Such were the events that passed on the 19th. The agitation meanwhile continued in the faubourgs, and Santerre, a.s is alleged, said to his associates, some- what intimidated by the decree of the directory, " Wliat do i/nii fear ? The national guard will not have orders to fire, and M. Petion trill he there." At midnight, the maj'or, either because he believed the movement irresistible, or because he deemed it tioned, he had recourse to a hypocritical subterfuRe, tumini? to his troop, and saying to it, ' Geiillemrn, drnw up an account of the ri-fiisal I maki- to march iit jimtr Iwatl into the kinti's apartments;' that, for answer, tlie crowd, accustomed to understand the Sieur Santerre, pushed aside tlie ffroup of honest citizens, entered with their cannon and their commander, Santerre, and penetrated into the apartment by all the inlets, after having broken in the doors I nd windows." 1 fitting to foster it, as he did afterwards on the 10th August, wrote to the directory, and requested it to throw a legal sanction over the rising, by permitting the national guard to receive the citizens of the fau- bourgs into its ranks. This measure would have per- fectly fulfilled the views of those who desired, without resorting to a commotion, to overawe the king ; and every thing proves that such were actually the views of Pttion and the popular leaders. The directory answered at five in the morning (20th June), that it persisted in its previous resolutions. Petion thereupon ordered the general officer on duty to keep the posts at their complement, and to double the guard at the Tuileries ; but he did nothing more; and imwilling either to have the scene of the Champ de Mars re- peated, or to suppress the gathering, he waited until nine in the morning for the meeting of the municipal body. At this meeting he allowed a decision to be taken contrary to that of the director}^, and it was enjoined upon the national guard to open its ranks to the armed petitioners. Petion, in not opposing a resolution subversive of the legal administrative sub- ordination, laid himself open to a charge of contra- vention, which did not fail to be subsequently made agahist him. But whatever might be the character of this resolution, its provisions were useless, for the national guard had not time to form ; and the assem- blage speedily became so considerable, that it was no longer possible to vary its form or direction. The hour was eleven in the forenoon. The assembly had just met, in anticipation of some great event. The members of the departmental director}' appeared at the bar to inform it of the inutility of their efforts. The attorney-syndic Roederer obtained leave to speak. He stated that an extraordinary gathering of citizens had taken place, in contravention of the law and of various injunctions issued by the authorities ; that this po])ular concourse seemed to have for object the celebration of the anniversary of the 20th June, and the tender of a fresh tribute of respect to the assem- bly ; but that if such were the purpose of the majority, it was to be apprehended that evil-disposed persons woidd endeavour to use this multitude in support of an address to the king, who ought not to have any presented to him except under the peaceable form ol a petition. Then recapitulating the orders of the directory and the council-general of the commune, the laws decreed against armed gatherings, and those fix- ing at twenty the number of citizens competent to present a petition, he exhorted the assembly to enforce their execution ; " for," he added, " armed petitioners resort hither to-day from a civic impulse, but to- morrow a crowd of malignants may assemble, and I ask you, gentlemen, what you could say to them ?" Amid the applauses of the right, and the murmurs of the left, which, from its disapproval of tlie alarm and foresight of the department, evidently looked with favour on the insurrection, Vergniaud mounted the tribune, and called to recollection that the abuse at which the attorney-syndic was so alarmed as a future precedent, was an already established custom ; that on several occasions armed petitioners had been received, and permitted to defile through the hall ; that it was possibly very wrong; but that the petitioners of to- day would have good reason to complain if they were treated differently from others ; that if, as was said, they wished to present an address to the king, they would doubtless delegate to him unarmed petitioners; and that, in sooth, if the assembly were apprehensive of danger to the king, it had but to form a bidwark around him, by sending a deputation of sixty mem- bers to the palace. Dumolard admitted all that "S'ergni.aud had ad- vanced, and acknowledged that the abuse was esta- blished; but maintained that it ought to be abolished, especially upon this occasion, imless it were desired that the assembly and the kins: should appear, in the eyes of Europe, the slaves of a destructive faction. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. laa He recommended, like Vergniaud, that a deputation sliould be sent, but required, in addition, tliat the municipality and the department should be held re- sponsible for the measures taken to ensure the main- tenance of the laws. The uproar meanwhile increased with every moment. A letter from Santerre was announced ; it was read amidst tlie acclamations of the galleries. The inhabitants of the Faubourg St Antoine, according to the purport of this letter, were celebrating the 20th June ; they had been calum- niated, and thej' requested to be admitted to the bar of the assembly to confound their detractors, and to prove that they were still the men of the 14th of July. Yer^iaud replied to Dumolard, that if the law had been violated, the case was not unprecedented ; that an attempt to jiut the present movement down would assuredly renew tlie sanguinary scene of the Cliamp de Mars ; and that, after all, the sentiments of the petitioners were not reprehensible. " Justly uneasy as to the future," he added, "they wish to demonstrate that, in spite of all the intrigues hatching against liberty, they are ever ready to defend it." In these words, arising from the natural course of a debate, it may be obsei'ved, the real motive of the occiuTence was proclaimed. The tumult still continued. Kaniond claimed to speak, and an express resolution was needed to secure him the privilege. At the same moment, it was announced that the petitioners were eight thousand in number. " They are eight thou- sand," said Calvet, " and we are but seven huinlred and forty-five : let us retire." " Order ! order ! " was shouted from all sides. Calvet was formally called to order, and Ramond urged to speak, as eight tliou- sand citizens were in waiting. " If eight thousand citizens are waiting," said he, " twenty-four millions of Frenchmen are not less so." He then proceeded to repeat the arguments adduced by his friends of the right side. Suddenly the petitioners rushed into the hall. The assembly rose indignantly, the president put on his hat, and the petitioners retired with re- spectful submission. The assembly, satisfied at this proof of docilit}', consented to receive tliem. Their petition, conceived in the most audacious spirit, expressed the opinions of all the petitions of that period. " The people are ready ; they wait only for you; they are determined to use strong means to give execution to the second article in the declara- tion of rights — resistance to oppression ; let the minority amongst you, at variance with your sentiments and ours, purge the land of liberty, and begone to Cob- lentz. Investigate the cause of the evils that threaten us : if it originate with the executive power, let it be annihilated!" The president, after pronouncing a reply in which he promised the petitioners unremitting vigilance on the part of the representatives of the jieople, and ex- horted them to give obedience to the laws, granted them, in the name of the assembly, jiermission to defile before it. The doors were tlicn thrown open, ana the crowd, which at this moment amounted to at least thirty thousand, passed in procession througli the hall. What the wild imagination of a populace all abandoned to itself, is likely to exhibit, may be easily imagined. , Enormous tables bearing tlie decla- ration of rights preceded tlie march; women and children danced around these tables, brandisliing branches of olive and pikes, intended to intimate peace or war at the ojjtion (jf the enemy ; and all re- peated in chorus the famous air, Ca ira. Tlieu came the porters of the markets and workmen of all deno- minations, with rusty muskets, swords, and bludgeons, with sharp steel points. Santerre, and the Marquis de Saint-HurugU(!s, already mentioned as a distinguished actor on the 5th and 6th October, marched, sword in hand, at their head. Some battalions of the national guard followed in good order, to restrain tlu; tumult by their presence. After them came more women, fol- lowed by other armed men. Floating streamers bore the words : "'The constitution or death." A pair of tat- tered breeches was raised aloft, amidst cries of " The s(ins-culottes (the breechless) for ever 1" Finally, an atrocious symbol added ferocity to the grotesqueness of the scene. At the point of a pike was borne a calf's heart, with this inscription: "Heart of an aristocrat." Abhorrence and indignation broke loose at this exhi- bition ; instantly the dismal emblem disappeared, but only to be again reared at the gates of the Tuileries. The acclamation of the galleries, the shouts of tha populace traversing the hall, the civic songs, the coe- fiised uproar, the silence mixed with anxiety of the assembly, composed a scene of the strangest character, and one afflictive even to those members who viewed the multitude as an auxiliar3^ Alas ! that reason is so powerless in times of discord ! Alas ! that those who invoked the disciplined barbarians of the north obliged their adversaries to call upon those undisciplined bar- barians, of alternate gaiety and ferocity, who multi- ply in the heart of cities, and stagnate beneath the most progressive civilisation! This scene lasted three hours. In conclusion, San- terre, reappearing to return thanks to the assembly on behalf of the people, presented it with a flag as a token of gratitude and devotion. The multitude then attempted to enter the garden of the Tuileries, the gates of which were barred. Numerous detachments of the national guard sur- rounded the palace, and stretching in line from the terrace of the Feuillants to the river, presented an imposing front. An order from the king caused the garden gates to be opened. The ]X)pulace immediately rushed in, marched under the windows of the palace, and before the ranks of the national guard, Avithout any hostile demonstration, save repeatedly shouting, "Down with the veto! — the sans-culottes for ever!" A few individuals, however, alluding to the king, exclaimed, "Why does he not show himself? We don't intend him any harm." The old phrase, " He is deceived," was still heard, but very rarely. The people, prompt to imbibe the impressions of their leaders, had likewise given up the idea in despair. The multitude issued from the garden by the gate opening on the Pont-Royal, passed up the quaj', and, traversing tlie avenues of the Louvre, proceeded to the Place du Carrousel. This square, now so open and sjiacious, was then filled with numberless streets, which formed, as it were, covered ways through it. Instead of that immense court which at present ex- tends between the palace and the railing, and from one wing to the other, were several small courts, sepa- rated by Avails and houses, old-fashioned posterns giving them access to the Carrousel. The jxqjulace occupied all the surrounding sjiace, and advanced to the royal gateway. An entrance through it was denied: some municipal officers here addressed them, and seemed to have prevailed on them to retire. It is alleged that, at this moment, Santerre, coming out of the assembl}', where he had remained to the last for the purjiose of presenting his flag, reanimated the already flagging dis])ositioiis of the crowd, and brought cannon to bear on the gate. It was now almost four o'clock ; suddenly two municipal ollicers raised the bars,* whereupon the troo{)s, wiio were gathered at this ])(>int in considerable numbers, consisting of bat- talions of the national guard and detachments of gendarmerie, were coinpletcly paralysed. 'J'lie people rushed precipitately into tlic court, and tliencc into the vestiliule of the palace. Santerre, threatened, it is said, by two witnesses with impcacliment for tliis violation of the royal abode, exclaimed, turning to the assailants, " Be witnesses that 1 refuse to proceed into the king's aiiartments!" Tlie i)oi)ulace had received too powerful an impulse to be stoiiped by such an * All the witnesses examined were aftreed upon this fact, and were at variance only as to the names of the municipal ollicers. ] 134 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. appeal ; they spread intv) iiU parts of the palace, pressed up all the staircases, and transported in their arms a i)iece of ordnance even to the first floor. In the mean time the assailants bejran to hack, with swords and axes, the doors which were closed against them. Louis XVI., at this moment, had dismissed many of his dangerous friends, who, without ability to save liim, had so often tended to comjjromise him. They had flocked around him on this ilay, but he ordered them to leave the Tuileriis, where their presence would only e.xasjterate without awiiij,' the people. He had remaining with old Marshal de Mouchy, Acloque, commander of a l)attalion,* some servants of his house- hold, and several devoted officers of the national guard. At length the shouts of the populace, and the blows of the hatchets, were heard. The officers of the national guard immediately surrounded the king, and entreated liim to show himself, promising to die by his side. He did not hesitate, and ordered the doors to be opened. At tliat very instant, the panel of the one before him fell beneath his feet, under some vehement blow. At length all impedi- ments to the crowd were removed, and a forest of pikes and bayonets bristled to the view. " Here I am I" said Louis XVI., showing himself to the un- bridled mob. His attendants pressed around him, and j formed a rampart for him with their persons. " Re- I spect your king!" they exclaimed; and the multitude, ' who had assuredly no settled object, the design of a j threatening inroad being all that had been marked out for them, slackened in their irruption. Several ! voices announced there was a petition, and demanded ! it might be heard. Those who surrounded the king urged him to pass into a larger saloon, in order that I this petition might be conveniently read. The popu- lace, gratified at seeing its wishes attended to, fol- lowed the monarcdi, whom his attendants had the wisdom to place in the recess of a window. They induced liini also to mount a bench, wliilst some of them drew up others in front of him; a talile, like- wise, was added, and all who accompanied him stood around. Some grenadiers of the guard and officers of his household came to increase tlie number of his defenders, and composed a rampart behind which he could listen with less of innninent danger to the popu- lar demands. In the midst of the tunmlt and the shouts, these words were often heard repeated : " No veto! — no priests! — no aristocrats! — the camp near Paris!" Legendre, the butcher, drew near, and de- manded, in popular phraseology, the sanction of the decrees. " This is neither the place nor the time to ask it," said the king, with firiuness ; " I will do all that the constitution requires." This resistance produced its etfoct. "The nation for ever! — the nation for ever!" shouted the assailants. " Yes," resumed Louis XVI., " the nation for ever! I am its fastest friend." " Indeed! — let us see!" said one of these men, holding out to him a red cap at the end of a pike. Rejection was pregnant wilh danger; and surely the dignity of the king did not require him to inmiolate hinisolf from repugnance for a vain syml)ol ; but, on the con- trary, as he in sooth did, to repel with composure the assault of the multitude. He put the cap on his head, and general ai)])robation was expressed. Pant- ing from the heat of the season and the crowd, one of the men, in a half-intoxicated condition, holding in his hands a glass and a bottle, asked him to drink. The king had for some time been apprehensive of poison ; however, he drank without hesitation, and was vociferously applauded. During this interval, the Princess Elizabeth, who was attacheil to iier bnitlicr by the tenderest allec- tion, and who alone, of all his family, had been able ♦ [" A brewer of the Faubourg Saint-Marceau. Tlie virtues and misfortunes of tlie king had nuide such an impression on tliis worthy man, that liis majesty liad not a more zealous partisiin." — Bertraiid'-- Annals, vol. vi. p. 337-] to reach him, followed him from M'indow to window, in order to share his dangers. When the people saw her, they took her for the queen. Yells of " There's the Austrian ! " resounded in a fearful man- ner. The national guards who had sxirrounded the ]irincess wished to undeceive the people. " Leave tiiem," said that generous relative, " in their error, and save the queen !" The queen, accompanied by her children, had been unable to join her royal consort. She had fled from tlie lower apartments, and gained the council-chamber, but could not i)enetrate to the king, on account of the crowd which obstructed every room in the palace. She was extremely anxious to join him, and earnestly entreated to be conducted to the room in which he was. With great difficulty she was dissuaded from attempting it ; and standing behind the council-table, with some grenadiers, she surveyed the mob as it moved idong, her heart palpitating with terror, and her eyes moist with suppressed tears. At her side, her daughter was weeping bitterl}'; and her j'oimg boy, at first greatly terrified, had soon regained con- fidence, and was smiling with the happy unconscious- ness of tender age. Some c^f the populace had thrust a red cap into his hand, which the queen put upon his head. Santerre, who was stationed in this quarter, enjoined respect upon the people, and attempted to comfort the princess. He repeated to her the usual but unfortunately disregarded phrase — " Madam, you are misled — you are deceived ;" and seeing the young prince oppressed by the red cap, " This child is smo- thered," said he, and freed hira from the burlesque head- dress. Upon learning the dangers of the palace, some de- puties had hastened to the king, and addressed the peoi)le, urging them to respect. Others had repaired to the assembly to communicate what was passing; and the excitement within the hall had risen to the highest pitch, from the indignation of the right side, and the endeavours of the left to excuse this irruption into the palace of the monarch. A deputation had been decreed without dissent, and twenty -four mem- bers departed to surround the king. The deputation was ordered to be renewed every half hour, in order that the assembly might be alwaj's kept apprised of events. The deputed members harangued by turns, having themselves supported on the shoulders of grenadiers. Pction afterwards appeared, and was accused of being too tardy in his arrival. He asserted he had not been informed until half-past four of the inroad effected at four ; thab he had taken half an hour to reach the palace, and had afterwards encoun- tered so many obstacles as to be \ina])le to penetrate to the king before half-past five. He approached the monarch ; " Fear nothing," said he to him, " you are in the midst of the people." Louis XVI, upon these words, took the hand of a grenadier, and placed it on his heart, saying, " Feel if it beats faster than usual." This noble observation was greatly applauded. Potion mounted on a chair, and addressing the crowd, told it, that having made its representations to the king, the t)nly duty left for it to perform was to retire without disturbance, and in such a manner as not to sully the day. Some of the witnesses allege that Pttion said, " its just representations." These words would only prove at the most an anxiety not to irritate the mul- titude. Santerre united his influence with Potion's, and the palace was speedily evacuated. The crowd retired peaceabh' and orderly. The palace was cleared about seven in the evening. The king, the queen, his sister, and his children, im- mediately assembled together, mingling their tears. The king, stupified bj^ the scene, still had the red cap on his head ; he was now made sensible of the ill- omened ornament he had worn for several hours, and hurled it from him witli indignant wrath. At this moment, fresh deputies arrived to take cognisance of the state of the palace. The queen, accompanying I A I'uUarlon & C° Loiuloii it i;diiibiii);li HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. IS.-i them through it, pointed out to them the shattered doors and the broken furniture, expressing herself with anguish upon tlie enormity of tlie outrages. Merlin de Thionville, one of the most ardent republicans in the assembly, was amongst the deputies ]n'ese)?t; and the queen perceived tears in his eyes. " You weep," said she to him, " at seeing the king and his family so cruelly treated by a people whom he has always de- sired to render hapjjy." " It is true, madam," replied Merlin, " I weep at the misfortunes of a beautiful and sensitive lady, the mother of a family ; but do not misconstrue them, for not one of my tears is slied for the Icing or the queen. I detest kings and queens." * CHAPTER X. CONSEQUENCES OF THE 20TH JUNE, AND EVENTS SUBSEQUENT TO AUGUST 1792. On the morning following this insurrectional day of the 20th, tlie principal events of which we have just recounted, Paris still Avore a threatening aspect ; and the different parties were moved with more than wonted violence. Indignation, of coiirse, was general amongst the partisans of the court — tliey i-egarding it as atrociously outraged; and among tlie constitution- alists, who considered the invasion of llie palace as an attack upon the laws and the public ti'anquillity. The disorder had been doubtless great, but it was now unduly exaggerated : it was alleged there had been a project to assassinate the king, and that the plot had only failed by a fortunate chance. Thus, by a very natural reaction, the feeling of tlie moment was entirely in favour of the royal family, exposed the day before to so many dangers and insidts ; and great disapprobation was expressed against the presumed instigators of the insurrection. In the assembly, mournftd countenances occupied the benches. Several deputies inveighed with force against the events of the previous day. 31. Bigot proposed a law against armed petitions, and the usage of allowing bands to march through the hall. Al- though laws already existed upon these points, they were renewed by a decree. M. Davcirhoult main- tained that informations should be taken against the perturbators. " Informations!" said some of the mem- bers, " against forty thousand men ! " " Well," he retoi-ted, " if it be impossible to distinguish the guilty amongst forty thousand, punish the guard for making no defence ; but at all events act in some manner." The minister subsequently came to make a report on what had passed ; and a discussion arose upon the nature of the facts. A member of the right side urged, on tlie ground that Vergniaud could not be suspected, and had been an eyewitness of the scene, that he should speak to what he had personally wit- nessed. 15iit Vergniaud did not rise to this appeal, and preserved strict silence. However, the more un- daunted of the left side shook off this constraint, and resumed courage towards the end of the sitting. They even ventured to move that an inquii-y should be made, wliether to decrees of urgency the sanction was necessary. But this motion was rejected by a large majority. Towards evening, a renewal of the scenes of the preceding day was feared. Tlie populace on retirhig had stated that they would return, and it was gene- rally imagined they woidd keep their promise. But, whether it were merely a remnant of the yesterday's excitement, or any fresh attempt were judged inex- pedient at the moment by the leaders of the pojiular party, all tendency to riot was eiisily suppressed ; and Petion ran incontinently to tlie palace t(j assure tlie king that order was re-established, and that the l)cople, after having made their representations to ♦ SfC Miidainc Campan, vol. ii. p. 21i). him, were calm and satisfied. " That is not true," said the king tohini. " Sire" " Be sUent." "The magistrate of the people is not called upon to be silent when he does his duty and tells the trutli." " The tranquillity of Paris rests upon your liead." " I know my duties : I will observe them." " Enough : go and perform them. Retire." Notwithstanding his extreme amiability, the king was susceptible of splenetic emotions, -which the cour- tiers used to call "fits of snorting." The sight of Petion, who was accused of having stimulated the scenes of the 20th, irritated him, and provoked the conver- sation wo have just related. AU Paris was speedilv acquainted with its terms. Two proclamations were forthwith publislied, one emanating from the kmg and the other from the municipality, demonstrating, significantly, that those two authorities were coming into conflict. The municipality told the citizens to remain quiet, to respect the king, to respect and make respected the national assembly ; and not to congregate in arms, because the laws prohibited it ; and, above all, to dis- trust those evil-clisposed persons who strove to put them again in motion. It was rumoured at the moment, that the court was seeking to arouse the people a second time, to have an opportunity of shooting them down. Thus, the palace was haunted with tlie idea of an assassination, and the faubourgs with that of a massacre. In his proclamation the king said, " The French will not have learnt without indignation that a nud- titude, deluded by certain factious individuals, has invaded, by force of arms, the habitation of the king. The king opposed to the menaces and insults of the factious nothing but the rectitude of his conscience and his love for the public v.-eal. He is ignorant to what extremity it is their purpose to restrict themselves ; but, whatever excesses they may perpetrate, they will never wring from him a consent to what he believes opposed "to the public interest, et cetera. If those who labour to overthro%v the monarchy have occasion for one more crime, they may commit it. The king commands aU the administrative bodies and municipalities to watch over the safety of persons and property." Such opposite language was in accordance with the tM'o opinions then prevalent. All whom the conduct of the court had driven to despair, were only the more exasperated against it, and more determined to con- travene its schemes by all possible means. The popu- lar societies, the municipalities, the men of pikes,* a portion of the national guard, and the left side of the assembly, applauded the proclamation of the Mayor of Paris, and vowed to use forbearance only so fixr as might be necessary to avoid being mowed" down liy artillery without effecting any decisive result. Still uncertain as to the means they should employ, they awaited events, full of their former distrust and aver- sion. Their first proceeding was to oblige the mini- sters to appear before the assembly, to give an account of the precautions they had adopted upon two essential points : — 1st, Upon the religious troubles excited liy the priests ; 2d, Upon the safety of the metropolis, which the camp of twenty thousand men, refused by the king, was intended to cover. Those who were called ai-istocrats, the sincere con- * [AVith retrnnl to pikes, tliero is a curioiis passnge quoted by Rcrtraiicl in liis Annals, and attributed to IJrissot in his joumiii. It is as follows:— " Where will tliese pikes go?" asks an aristo- crat. " Wherever ye shall be. ye enemies of the people," is the reply. " Will they dare go to the palace of the Tiiilcries ?" " Yes. certainly, if ye bu there." " Who shall command these pikes ?" "Necessity." " Who shall distribute them?" "Patriotism. Pikes bcKan the revolution ; pikes shall end it."] 136 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. ?titutioui\lists, a part of the national guards, several of tlie provini-os, and especially the dejjartmeutal di- rectories, declared their opinions upon this occasion in a very energetic manner. The laws having been violated, they had all the advantage in argument, and used it to good purpose. A multitude of addresses came to the king. At Rouen and at Paris, a petition was prepared, to which twenty thousand signatures were attached, and which was associated in the detes- tation of tlio i>eople with that formerly signed by eight thousand Parisians against the camp l:)elow Paris. Fiually, an inquiry was ordered by the department against tiie mayor Pttion, and the attorney of the comnmne, Manuel, who were both accused of having encouraged, by their inertness, the insurrection of the 20th June. At this period, the conduct of the king on that fatal day was spoken of with admiration ; there was a general relapse from the opinion respect- ing his character, which it was thought had been too liarshly judged when suspected of weakness. But it was soon seen that the passive courage which can re- sist is far removed from that active, enterprising cou- rage MJiich anticipates dangers instead of awaiting them with composure. The constitutional party likewise bestirred itself with extreme activity. All those who had flocked around Lafayette to concert Avith him tlie letter of the IGth June, again assembled, in order to arrange a grand demonstration. Lafayette had been roused to indignation on learning the events that had occurred in the palace, and they found him perfectly disposed to coincide with their views. Several regiments were induced to send addresses to him, testifying the same feelings of abhorrence. Whether these addresses were prompted or were spontaneous, he interdicted them by an order of the day, promising to convey, himself and in person, the sentiments of the whole army. He resolved accordingly to visit Paris, and repeat to the legislative body what he had written to it on the 16th June. He came to an understanding with Luckner, who was easily led, as an old warrior who had never been out of a camp. lie prevailed on him to write a letter addressed to the king, e.xpressive of the same sentiments he was about to proclaim viva voce at the bar of the Legislative Asseml)ly. He then made all the necessary dispositions to prevent his absence being injurious to the military operations, and tearing him- self from the atfectionate solicitude of his soldiers, he repaired to Paris at the risk of imminent personal danger. Lafayette relied upon his faithful national guards, and upon new energy on their part. He likewise relied upon the court, whose enmity he could scarcely anti- cipate when he was exposing himself to serve it. After having proved his chivalric love for libertj% he was anxious to prove his sincere attachment to the king; and in liis heroic mood, it is probaljle he Avas not insensible to the glory of this double devotion. He arrived on the morning of the 28th June. The intelli- gence was rapidly difiUsed, and it was every where repeated with amazement and curiosity that General Lafayette was at Paris. Before his arrival, the assembly had been agitated by the presentation of numerous contrary petitions. Those from Rouen, Havre, the Ain, the Seine and Oise, the Pas de Calais, and the Aisne, inveighed against the excesses of the 20th June; whilst those from Arras and Herault seemed almost to approve of them. On the one hand, Luckner's letter to the king ha^l been read, and on the other, vindictive pla- cards against him. The reading of these different documents had caused great excitement for sevend day.s. On the 2Sth, a considerable crowd repaired to the assembly, in tiie liojje tiiat Lafayette, whose jjurpose was as yet unknown, would appear there. In fact, about half-past one it was announced tliat he re- quested to be admitted to the bar. Upon his entrance, he was received with the clveers of the right side, and the silence of the galleries and the left side. " Gentlemen," said he, " I ought in the first place to assure you that, consequent upon dispositions con- certed between JIarshal Luckner and myself, my pre- sence here in no respect compromises either the suc- cess of our arms, or the safety of the army I have the honour to command." He then proct)eded to unfold the reasons which brought him to Paris. It had been asserted that his letter was not from him ; he came to avow it, and for that purpose had left the intrenchments of his camp, where the attachment of his soldiers was his greatest security. A more powerful motive had impelled him to this step ; the 20th June had excited tlie indigna- tion of his armj', which had presented to him a mul- titude of addresses. He had interdicted them, and undertaken to become the organ of his troops with tlie National Assembly. " Already," said he, " the sol- diers ask themselves whether it is really the cause of liberty and the constitution that they are defending." He entreated the National Assembly : 1st, To prosecute the instigators of the 20th June; 2d, To annihilate a faction which usurps the na- tional sovereignty, and whose public debates leave no doubt as to the atrocity of its projects ; 3d, To ensure respect to the authorities, and to give the armies assurance that the constitution will re- ceive no injury at home, whilst they are shedding their blood to defend it abroad. The president answered him that the assembly would be faithful to the sworn law, and woidd con- sider his petition. He was invited to the honours of the sitting. The general took his seat on the benches of the right. The deputy Kersaint remarked that he ought to take his place on the bench for petitioners. " Yes!" " No ! " was shouted from all parts. The general modestly arose, and proceeded to the petitioners' bench. Long-continued cheers accompanied him to this new seat. Guadet was tlie first to sjieak, and, with infinite tact, asked if their enemies were sub- dued, if their country were delivered, since M. La- fayette was at Paris. " No," said he, " the country is not delivered — our situation has not changed, and yet the general of one of our armies is at Paris ! I will not stop to inquire whether M. de Lafayette, who sees in the French people only creatures of faction, sur- rounding and threatening the authorities, be not him- self surrounded bj' a stati' which circumvents him ; but I will observe to M. de Lafayette, that he in- fringes the constitution by becoming the organ of an army, legally incapable of deliberating, and that in all probability, likewise, he has infringed upon military subordination, by coming to Paris without authority from the minister at war." In consequence, Guadet moved that the minister be called upon to state whether he gave leave of absence to M. de Lafayette, and also that the extra- ordinary commission should make a report on the question whether a general was competent to address the assemblj' upon matters purely political. Ramond came forward to answer Guadet. He com- menced by a very natural and often an apposite observation, that "the interpretation of laws varies according to circumstances. " Never," said he, " have you been so scrupulous upon the existence of the right of petitioning. When very recently an armed midtitude appeared, you did not ask what its mission was, nor reproach it with invading, by the display of arms, the independence of the assembly; and yet when M. de Lafavette, who, from the whole course of his life, is the very standard of liberty both for Ame- rica and for Europe, presents himself, suspicions are awakened ! If there be two weights and measures, if there be two modes of considering things, let the re- spect to persons be observed in favour of the first- born of liberty !" HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 137 Ramond then moved the reference of the petition ^o the extraordinary comniission, for the purpose of examining, not the conduct of Lafayette, but the peti- tion itself. After considerable tumult, and a double vote, the motion of Kaniond was adopted. Lafayette left the assembly encomjiassed by a mmierous con- course of deputies and soldiers of the national guard, all of them his partisans and old companions in arms. This was the critical moment for all — for himself, for the court, and for the popular party. He repaired to the palace. The most insulting expressions were circulated in his hearing by the crowd of courtiers. The king and queen also accorded a cold reception to the man who had just taken so perilous a step in their behalf. He quitted the palace, afHicted, not on his own account, but on that of the roj'al faujily itself, at the dispositions evinced towards him. As he issued from the Tuileries, a considerable assemblage was waiting for him, which followed him with cries of "Lafa^'ette for ever!" to the door of his residence, and even fixed a Maj-pole before the house. These testimonies of continued attachment affected the general, and intimidated the Jacobins. But it was necessary to turn these remnants of affection promptly to account, and to give them increased stimiilus, if it were wished to render them efficacious. Certain officers of the national guard, particularly devoted to the ro)'al family, addressed themselves to the court for an intimation of what ought to be done. The king and queen were both of opinion that it was not expedient to second M. de Lafayette.* He therefore found himself abandoned by the only portion of the national guard upon which any hope of support could still be placed. Nevertheless, deter- mined to serve the king in spite of himself, he held consultations with his friends. But their sentiments were far from harmonising together. Some, and especially Lally-Tolendal, desired that he should act with promptitude against the Jacobins, and attack them by main force in their club. Others, all mem- bers of the department and the assembly, taking their position on the law, upon which alone their influence rested, refused to sanction its violation, and strenu- ously opposed any open attack. Lafayette, however, gave the preference to the boldest of the counsels, and fixed a rendezvous with his pani^ans, with the view of expelling the Jacobins from their hall, and walling up the doors. But although the place of meeting was duly appointed, few made their appearance, and La- fayette found it impossible to strike the blow. In the mean time, whilst he was in despair at seeing himself so ill supported, the Jacobins, ignorant of the defec- tion of his friends, were seized with a ])anic, and abandoned their hall. They hastened to Dinnouriez, who had not yet departed for the army, and urged him to put himself at their head and march against Lafayette ; but their proposal was not accepted. La- fayette remained another day at Paris, amidst denun- ciations, menaces, and plans of assassination, and finally departed in disgust at his own fruitless solici- tude and the deplorable infatuation of the court. And yet this is the man, so completely abandoned, when he came to confront the most innninent dangers to save the king, who is accused of having betrayed Louis XVL! The writers of the court pretend that his measures were ill combined: doubtless it was more easy and more sure, at least iu appearance, to be served by eighty thous:ind Prussians ; but in Paris itself, and with a determination of not appealing to foreigners, what more could be done than to place himself at the head of the national guard, and over- awe the Jacobins by dispersing them ? Lafayette returned to his army with the intention of still serving the king, and arranging for him, if it were possible, the means of quitting Paris. He wrote * See ^^adamc Campan, vol. ii. p. 224 ; a letter from M. dc I.ally to the King of Prussia ; and all the autlioritics. to the assembly a letter in which he reiterated with j'et greater energy all that he had said in person against those he called the factious. ir^carccly was the popular part\' freed from the alarms which the presence and purpose of the general had caused it, than it resumed its attacks upon the court, and persisted in demanding a rigorous account of the measures it was taking to defend the country. It was already known, although the executive jiowcr had sent no notification to the assembly, that the Prus- sians had broken their neutrality, and were advanc- ing by Coblentz to the number of eighty thousand men, all veterans of the great Frederick, and com- manded by the Duke of Brunswick, a general of cele- brity. Luckner. having too few troops, and relying little upon the Belgians, had been obliged to retreat upon Lille and Valenciennes. On evacuating Cour- tray, an officer had burnt the suburbs of that town, with the intention, as it was believed, of alienating the Belgians by so remorseless a proceeding. The government was taking no steps to augment the force of the armies, which amounted at the most, upon the three frontiers, to scarcely two hundred and thirty thousand men. It was adopting none of those ener- getic steps which arouse the zeal and enthusiasm of a nation. In short, the enemy might easily reach Paris in six weeks. The queen reckoned upon it, and imparted her confidence to one of her ladies. She had the itinerary- of the emigrants and the King of Prussia. She knew that upon such a day thej' would be at Verdun, on such another at Lille, and that they designed to lay siege to that latter fortress. The unfortunate prin- cess hoped, as she said, to be delivered in a month.* Alas! that she did not rather credit those sincere friends who represented to her the evil consequences of foreign aid, and its inutility, inasmuch as it would arrive too soon to compromise, too late to save her I — that she did not credit her own fears iu this re- spect, and the gloomy presentiments which sometimes assailed her ! We have seen that the measure upon which the national party laid greatest stress was a reserve of twenty thousand federalists under the walls of Paris. The king, as has been already stated, had opposed this project. He was summoned, in the persons of his ministers, to give explanations on the precautions he had taken in substitution of those ordained by the unsanctioned decree. He answered by proposing a new plan, which consisted in directing upon Soissons a reserve of forty-two battalions of national volun- teers, to replace the old reserve, which was exhausted by draughts to the two main armies. This was in some sort the first decree, with one difference, which the patriots regarded as highly important, namely, that the reserved camp was to be formed between Paris and the frontier, and not near Paris itself. This plan was received with nmrmurs, and remitted to the mili- tary committee. Several dei)artments and municipalities, excited thereto by their corresj)ondents at Paris, had previ- ously resolved to carry intt) execution the decree for the camp of twenty thousand men, although it re- mained unsanctioned. The departments of the Bou- clies-du-Rhone, the Gironde, and L'lleraidt, set tiie first example, and were speedih' imitated by others. Such was the commencement of the insurrection. So soon as these spontaneous levies were known, the assembly, modifying the project relative to forty- two new battalions, as proposed by the king, decreed that the battalions which, in the ardour of their zeal, had begiui their march before being legally summoned, should pass through Paris, in order to be mscribed at the municipality of that city ; that they should he afterwards directed upon Soissons for the purpose of encamping there; and, finally, that such of them as * Sec ^ladainc Campan, vol. ii. p. 231). 138 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. should reacli Paris before the 14th July, the anniver- sary of tlie federation, should assist at that national solemnity. This festival liad not been observed in 1791, onaccount of the flight to Varennes, and it was determined to celebrate it this year with great splen- dour. The assembly subjoined to their decree that, immediately after the celebration, the federalists should take the road to the place of their destination. These provisions tended at once to authorise the insurrection, and to re-enact, almost in terms, the un- sanctioned decree. The only ditference was that the federalists were merely to pass through Paris. But the important point was to bring them there, for, once arrived, a thousand circumstances might retain them. The decree as thus amended was immediately sent to the king, and was sanctioned on the morrow. To this important measure was added another. A feeling of repugnance existed against a portion of the national guards, and especially against the staffs, which, after the example of the directories of depart- ments, had a considerable leaning in favour of high authority, from being drawn into relation with it by their superior rank. The staff of the Parisian national guard chiefly excited the popular ire ; but the assem- bly, considering it unsafe to make a direct attack upon it, decreed that all staffs, in towns of more than fifty thousand soids, should be dissolved and re-elected.* The state of agitation which prevailed in France securing to the most ardent an ever-increasing in- fluence, this re-election was certain to bring forward characters devoted to the popular and republican party. These were great measures, carried by pure energy against the right side and the court. But nothing seemed sufficiently effective to the patriots against the imminent dangers wherewith they believed them- selves threatened. Forty thousand Prussians, as many Austrians and Sardinians, advancing on the frontiers ; a court apparently in unison with the enemy, employing no means to augment the armies and stimulate the nation, but, on the contrary, ap- plying the veto to thwart the measures of the legis- lative body, and the civil list to procure itself parti- sans in the interior ; a general, who was certainly not deemed capable of uniting with the emigrants to deliver up France, but was, nevertheless, evidently disposed to support the court against the people ; — all these circumstances struck the public mind with affright and profound emotion. " The country is in danger!" Avas the universal cry. But how prevent this danger? — there was the difficulty. Its causes even were matters of di.spute. The constitutionalists and the partisans of the court, equally terrified with the patriots themselves, imputed the dangers solely to the factious, trembled only for royalty, and per- ceived peril in disunion alone. The patriots, on the contraiy, held the peril to lie in the invasion, and charged it solely upon the court, its refusals, its delays, and its secret plots. Cross petitions were presented ; some attributing ever}^ mischief to the Jacobins, others to the court, which was alternatelj' designated under the api)ellations of " the palace," " the executive poM-er," *' the veto." The assembly heard, and remitted them all to the extraordinary commission of twelve, some time previously appointed to reflect upon and propose measures of safety. Its plan was impatiently desired. In the interim, threat- ening placards every where covered the walls ; and the public journals, as daring as the yilacards, spoke openly of a forced abdication and dethronement. This was the subject of all conversations ; and it was only in the assembly that any measures seemed to be preserved. There the attacks against royalty were as yet but indirect. It had been proposed, for example, to sup- press the veto on decrees of urgency, and several times questions had been raised on the civil list and its cri- ♦ Decree of the 2d July. minal appropriation, with the view of either reducing it, or subjecting its outlay to pubUc scrutiny. The court had never refused to act ujtou the de- mands addressed to it by the assembl^^ and to materi- ally augment the means of defence. It could not have done so, indeed, without compromising itself too openly ; and, furthermore, it nmst have been indifle- rent to the numerical reinforcement of armies which it deemed completely disorganised. The popular party, on the other hand, desired those extraordinary measures, which evince a grand determination, and frequently render the most desperate cause trium- phant. Such were the measui-es conceived by the commission of twelve, after a long inquiry, and pro- posed by it to the assembly. They were contained in the following project : — AMien the danger became extreme, the legislative body was to promulgate the fact, by this solemn de- claration — The countri/ ii in danger. Upon this proclamation, all local authorities, the communal, district, and departmental councils, and the assembl}^ itself, as the first of the authorities, were to be permanent, and to sit without interruption. All the citizens were bound, under the severest penalties, to surrender to the authorities the arms they possessed, in order that a suitable distribution might be made of them. All the men, young and old, capable of service, were to be enrolled in the national guards Some were to be kept disposable, and transferred to the scats of the district and departmental bodies ; whilst others were to be dispatched into all quarters where the danger of the country should require, either at home or abroad. A uniform was not to be made imperative on those too poor to afford the expense of one. All the national guards, when removed from their places of abode, Mere to receive the pay of volun- teers. The authorities were to be chargeable with the providing of munitions. A rebellious sjTnbol, hoisted intentionally, was to be punished with death. All cockades and banners were reputed seditious ex- cept those of the tricolour. According to this project, the nation was to be on the alert and in arms ; it w;)uld possess the means of deliberating, and of fighting on all sides and at all moments ; and could disregard the government by amply compensating for its inertness. The agitation of the masses, hitherto without a specific object, would be regulated and directed. If, in fine, after the appeal was made, the French did not respond to it, nothing more would be due to a nation which did nothing for itself. A debate of the most stirring character did not fail, as may be well imagined, to ensue upon such a project. The deputy Pastoret made the preliminary report on the 30th June. He gave satisfaction to no one, laying blame on all parties, then flattering them at each other's expense, and failing to illustrate in a decisive manner the mea- sures for meeting the public dangers. After him, the deputy Jean de Bry gave a clear and calm exposition of the reasons on which the plan of the commission was founded. The discussion, once commenced, soon became a mere interchange of reproaches. It gave play to those hot and hasty imaginations which fly incontinently to extreme measures. The great law of public safety, that is to say, a dictatorship, or, in other words, tlie power of doing any thing, with the chance of using it cruelly but efnciently — a law, in fact, which was suitable only for the convention, was proposed, nevertheless, in the Legislative Assembh-. M. Delaunay d' Angers moved that the assembly declare that, until after the cessation of danger, it irould consult only the imperious and supreme law of pub- lic safety. This was, under an abstract and vague formula, evi- dently intended to suppress royalty, and declare the assembly absolute sovereign. M. Delaunay said that the revolution was not accomplished, that they de- HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 13!) reived themselves if they thought otherwise, and that fixed laws were for a revolution saved, not for a revo- lution to save ; in short, he said all that is usually said in favour of a dictatorsliip, the idea of which invariably presents itself in moments of imminent danger. The reply of the deputies on the riglit side was, naturally, that tlie oaths taken to the constitu- tion would be violated by instituting an authority to absorb the legal and established powers. Their op- l^onents retorted by asserting, that the example of the violation liad been given, and that it behoved thcTu to take care they were not surprised in a defenceless state. " But prove," responded the partisans of the court, " tliat this example has been given, and that the constitution has been betrayed." This defiance Avas met by renewed accusations against the court, and these accusations, again, were opposed by invec- tives against agitators. "' You are factious i " " You are traitors!" — such was the mutual and incessant reproach, and it involved the question to be solved. M. de Jaiicourt moved that Delaunay's proposition be dismissed to the club of Jacobins, so extravagant did he deem it. M. Isnard, to whose impetuous tem- perament it was accei)table, demanded that it be taken into consideration, and that the speech of M. Delaunay be sent to the departments, as an antidote to that of M. Pastoret, which was only " a dose of opium admi- nistered to one in agony." M. de A'aublanc succeeded in obtaining a hearing, and said that the constitution might be saved by the constitution ; that the project of M. Jean de Bry was a proof of it; that the speech of M. Delaunay might be printed, if it were desired, but certainly not sent to the departments ; and that the assembly ought to revert to the proposition of the commission. The debate was finally adjourned to the 3d Jidy. One deputy had not yet spoken, and that was Verg- niaud. A member of the Gironde, and its greatest orator, he was nevertheless independent of it. Either from coolness or true elevation of mind, he seemed superior to the passions of his friends ; and, whilst participating their ardent patriotism, he did not always yield to their prejudices and violence. When he spoke upon a question, he carried with him, by his eloquence and a certain acknowledged impar- tiality, that undecided portion of the assembly which Mirabeau was formerly wont to sway by his vehe- ment and logical outbursts. Wavering masses every where obey the impulse of talent and the force of reason.* It had been announced that he would speak on the 3d July, and an immense crowd attended to hear the great orator, on a question which was regarded as decisive. He rose accordingh',f and cast a preliminary glance at the state of France. " If we did not trust," said he, " in the imperishable love of the people for liberty, we might doubt whether tlie revolution was retro- grading, or had reached its limit. Our armies in the north were advancing into Belgium, and suddenly they gave way ; the theatre of tlie war is carried to our own territory, and tlie unfortunate Belgians pre- serve of us only the remembrance of the conflagra- tions which illumined our retreat! At the same time a formidable army of Prussians menaces the Rhine, although we liad been led to expect that their march would not be so immediate. How comes it that this was the moment chosen to dismiss the popular ministers, to break the chain of their labours, to deliver up the empire to inexperienced hands, and to reimdiatc the measures we had found * This justice was allowed to Vcrgniaiid by tlic Journal de Piiris, then so well known for itsoi)position to the majority of the assembly, imd for the IiiRli talents which presided over its editorial department, especially in the unfortnnate and immortal Andr<5 C'henicr. (See the number of the 4th July i?!'-.) t It is scarcely necessary to state that I analyse, and do not HJve the speech of Vergniaud in its precise words. it our duty to propose? Can it be true that our triumphs are viewed with fear ? Is it the blood of Coblentz, or yours, for which consideration is felt ? Is it wished to reign over depopulated towns, over devastated fields? Where, in a word, are we ? And you, deputies, what are you doing for the public safety ? You, whom they flatter themselves with having in- timidated ; you, whose consciences they think to alarm by stigmatismg your patriotism as the spirit of fac- tion, as if they had not called those factious who took the oath in the tennis-court ; you, whom they have so calumniated because you are not of a haughty caste, which the constitution has humbled to the dust ; you, upon whom they charge criminal designs, as if you, invested with a power alien to that of the law, had a civil list at disposal ; you, wliom, in their hypocritical moderation, they would have relax in attention to tlie dangers of the people ; you, whom they have succeeded in dividing, but who, in this moment of peril, will lay aside your animosities, your miserable dissensions, and will not feel mutual hatred so sweet as to prefer the fiendish gratification to the safety of the country ; — you, I say, listen to me : what are your resources? — what does necessity enjoin upon yoii ? — what does the constitution permit you ?" During this exordium, vociferous cheers frequently drowned the voice of the speaker. He continued, and unfolded two orders of dangers, the one internal, the other external. " To obviate internal dangers, the assembly pro- posed a decree against the priests ; and whether that the genius of a Medicis still lingers under the arches of tile Tuileries, or that a La Chaise or a Letellier still troubles the mind of the monarch, the decree was refused bj' the throne. It is not permitted us to believe, without doing wrong to the king, that he desires religious commotions. Therefore he deenjs himself sufficiently powerful — he finds sufficient in the old laws to secure public tranquillity. Let his mini- sters, then, answer for it with their heads, since they have the means of preserving it I To obviate external dangers, the assembly had de- vised a reserve camp: the king rejected it. It would be an outrage on him to believe that he desired to deliver up France : he must, therefore, have armies sufficient to protect her : his ministers must answer to us with their heads for the safety of the country." Hitherto the orator restricts himself, as we see, to ministerial responsibility, and to investing it with a more threatening character. " But," he added, " it is not enough to hurl the ministers into the abyss their malignancy or their impotence may have prepared. I pray you listen to me with calmness ; be not too hasty in interpreting my meaning." At these words, attention was excited to tlie highest pitch ; the deepest silence reigned in the assembly. " It is in the name of the king" said he, " that the French princes have striven to rouse Europe ; it is to vindicate the dignitj/ of the king that the treaty of Pilnitz was concluded ; it is to bring succour to the king that the sovereign of Bohemia and Hungary makes war upon us — that Prussia inarches to our frontiers. Now, I read in the constitution : ' If the king ])uts himself at the head of an army, and directs its strength against the nation, or if he does not oppose, by a formal act, any such enterprise that may be undertaken in his name, he shall be adjudged to have abdicated the throne.' What is a formal act of opposition? If a hundred thousand Anstrians march upon Flanders, a hundred thousand Prussians upon Alsace, and the kingoj)poses to them ten or twenty thousand men, woidd he per- form (I formal act of opposition ? If the king, lieing bound to notify impending hos- tilities, and well aware of the movements of the IVus- sian army, gave no knowledge thereof to the national assembly ; if a camp of reserve, necessary to arrest 140 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. the progress of the enemy into the interior, were pro- posed, and the king substituted for it a -plan ill- defined and tedious to execute ; if the king left the command of an army to an intriguing general, sus- pected by the nation ; if another general, reared far from the corruption of courts, and familiar with vic- tory, demanded a reinforcement, and liy a refusal of the king, the king virtually said to him, I enjoin f/we not to conquer; can it be alleged that the king has given a formal act of opposition? I have purposely exaggerated several points, to re- move all i)retext for applications purely liypothotical. But if, whilst France were swinnning in blood, the king said to you. It is true tliat enemies jjretend to act for me — for my dignity, for my rights ; but I have proved that I was not their accomjjlice : I have brought armies into the field ; these armies arc too weak, but the constitution does not fix the amount of their strength ; I have assembled them too tardily, but the constitution does not fix the period for their junction ; I have stoi)ped a general who was going to conquer, but the constitution does not enjoin victories ; I have employed ministers who deceived tlie assembly and disorganised the government, but their nomination belonged to me ; the assembly has passed useful de- crees which I have not sanctioned, but I had a right so to do ; I have done all that tlie constitution pre- scribes to nivi ; it is not possible, therefore, to doubt my fidelity to it." Vehement cheers hurst from all sides. " If, then," he resumed, " the king held this language to you, would you not be justified in replying to him. 'Oh, king! who, like the t3'rant Lysander, have held that truth was not more estimable than falsehood — who have feigned to love tiie laws only that you might pre- serve the poM-er enabling you to brave tliem — was it defending us to oppose foreign soldiers with forces whose inferiority left not even a doubt as to their in- evitable defeat ? Was it defending us to discard the plans calculated to fortify the interior? Was it de- fending us to abstain from repressing a general who violated the constitution, and to chain down the cou- rage of those who were serving it? Does the con- stitution leave you the choice of ministers for our prosperity or our ruin ? Does it make you chief of the armies for our glory or our shame ? Does it give you, in a word, the riglit of veto, a civil list, and so many high prerogatives, in order constitutionally to ruin the constitution and the empire ? No ! no ! as a man whom the generosity of the French people has failed to touch with sensibility, whom the love of despotism alone can actuate, you are no longer fit for that con- stitution you have so unworthily violated — for that people whom you have so basely betrayed !' But, no," continued the orator ; " if our armies be not complete, the king is doul)tless not culpable ; he will doubtless take the necessary measures to save us ; doubtless the march of the Prussians wiU not be so triumphant as they anticipate ; but, at the same time, it was essential to conceal nothing in apprehension or in speech, for frankness can alone save us." Vergniand concluded by proposing a m ssage to Louis XVI., in firm but respectful langiiage, which should compel him to choose between France and foreigners, and impress upon him that the French were resolved to perish or to triumph with the con- ■stitution. He reconnncnded, furthermore, that the country should I)e pronoiniccd in danger, in order to awaken in all hearts those lofty emotions which have often animated great nations, and which would be unquestionably f(mnd in the French people; "for it will not be," said he, " in the n'generated French of ]89 that nature will show herself debased." He urged, in fine, that an end sliould be put to dissensions, the character of which was pregnant with gloomy fore- bodings, "and that those should be joined together who were in Rome and on Mount Aventine." In pron(juncing these last words, the voice of the orator faltered, and a general emotion prevailed. The galleries, the left side, the right side, the whole audi- ence ajjplauded. He quitted the tribune, and was surroumled by a crowd eager to congratulate him. He alone had hitherto ventured to speak in the as- sembly of the dethronement, which was talked of by every one in puljlic, but he had only presented it in a hypothetical manner, and under forms still respectful, when conij)ared with the language instigated by the passions of the time. Dumas essayed to reply. He laboured under the disadvantage of speaking on the spur of tlie moment, after Vergniaud, and Ijcfore auditors with minds still affected with all the sensations he had aroused. He repeatedly claimed silence and attention, which were as repeatedly refused to him. He lingered on the reproaches dealt put against the executive power. " The retreat of Luckner was owing," said he, " to the fortune of war, which cannot be regulated in the depths of cabinets. You certainly have confidence in Luckner?" " Yes I yes!" exclaimed all; and Ker- saint forthwith proposed a resolution declaring that Luckner had preserved the national confidence. The resolution was passed, and Dumas continued. He al- leged with reason, that if they had confidence in that general, they could not consider the motive of his retreat as criminal or suspicious ; that as to the de- ficiency of force inveighed against, the marshal him- self allowed tliat all the troops then disposable were collected for the enterprise in question ; that besides, all the preparations must have been made by the late Girondist ministry, the authors of the offensive war, and that if the means were insufficient, the fault rested with that administration solely ; that the new mini- sters could not repair all defects by a few couriers ; and, finall}', that they had given unlimited discretion to Luckner, and left him power to act according to circumstances and the nature of the country. " The decree for the camp of twenty thousand men," added Dumas, " has been refused ; but, in the first place, the ministers are not responsible for the veto ; and, secondly, the plan which they have substituted is better than that proposed by the assembly, inas- much as it does not ])aralyse the means of recruiting. The decree against the priests has been refused, but there is no need of new laws to secure the public tran- quillity ; nothing is required but peace, security, and respect for individual and religious liberty. Wherever those franchises have been held inviolable, the priests have not been seditious." Dumas concluded by justi- fying the king, under the allegation that he had not desired war, and Lafayette, by reminding his hearers that he had always been the friend of libert5^ The decree proposed by the commission of twelve, for regulating the measures consequent upon the country being declared in danger, was passed amidst vehement clieering. But the declaration itself was adjourned, because the asseml)ly did not deem itself yet called upon to take that decisive step. The king, stimulated doubtless by all tluxt had been said, notified to the assembly innninent hostilities on the part of Prussia, the proofs of which he grounded on the de- claration of Pilnitz, on the welcome given to rebels, on the violences committed towards French mer- chants, on the dismissal of the French minister, and on the dei)arturc of the Prussian ambassador from Paris ; in short, on the march of Prussian troops to the numl)er of .'52,000 men. " Every thing proves to me," added the king's message, " an alliance between Vienna and Berlin." (Much laughter was elicited by these words.) " In terms of the constitution, I give advice thereof to the legislative body." " Yes," re- plied several voices, " when the Prussians are at Coblentz !" The message was remitted to the com- mission of twelve. The discussion upon the articles of the declaration of the country being in danger was resumed. The assembly decreed that this declaration should be con- HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 141 sidered as a simple proclamation, and consequently not siilycct to the royal sanction ; a decision not par- ticularly just, since the declaration was to involve legislative i)rovisions. But, Avithout venturing to pro- claim it, the assembly already followed the law of public safety. The controversies in the chamber became every day more envenomed. The hojie of Vergniaud, as to uniting those in Rome and on JMount Aventine, was not realised ; the fears reciprocally inspired were con- verted into irreconcilable hatred. In the asscmhlj' was a deputy named Lamourette, constitutional Bishop of Lyons, who had ever viewed liberty but as a return to primitive fraternity, and who was equally afflicted and astonished at the divi- sions amongst his colleagues. He had no idea of a real hatred existing between them, but surmised that they were all laljouring under groxuidlcss suspicions. On the 7th July, at the moment the debate on the danger of the country was about to be resumed, he claimed to be heard upon a motion of order ; and ad- dressing his colleagues in the most persuasive tone, and with the most benignant aspect, he said to them that every day propositions were submitted to them for the severest measures, intended to obviate the dangers of the country; but that, for his part, he jiut faith in milder and more efficacious means. It was the division amongst the representatives that caused all the evils ; and to this dissension it was needful to applj' a remedy. " Oh ! " exclaimed the worthy pastor, " he who should succeed in miiting you, would be the veritable conqueror of Austria and Coblentz. It is daily said that yoiu* union is impossible in the present posture of atfairs. Alas! I shudder to hear it I — but it is a calumny. Nothing is irreconcilable but vice and virtue. Honest men dispute with warmth, be- cause they are sincerely convinced of the rectitude of their opinions ; but they cannot hate each other. Gentlemen, the public safety is in your hands ; what retards you from accomplishing it? What do the two parties in the assembly charge upon each other ? One accuses the other of design- ing to modify the constitution by means of foreigners, and the latter accuses the first of designing to over- throw the monarchy to establish a republic. Well, my friends, hurl one and tlie same anathema at the republic and the two chambers — devote them both to common execration by a last and irrevocable oath! Let us swear to have Imt one spirit, one sentiment ; let us swear an eternal fraternity ! Let the enemy know that what we determine is the determination of all, and the country is saved ! " The speaker had scarcely concluded these words, than the two sides of the assembly were on their feet, applauding his generous sentiments, and eager to throw off the weight of their respective animosities. Amidst universal acclamation, they devoted to public execration every project for altering the constitution, either by two chambers or by a rejjublic, and then flew from the opposing benches to embrace each other. Those who had attacked and those who had defended Lafayette, the veto, and the civil list — the factious and the traitors — were clasped in each other's arms ; all differences were merged ; and Pastoret and C'ondorcet were scon in a close embrace, althougli they had but the day before indulged in r('cij)rocal at)use in the public prints. There was no longer a right side or a left side ; and all the deputies took their seats without distinction of place or l)arty : Dumas was by the side of Bazire, Jaucourt close to Merlin, and Raniond to Chabot. It was immediately rcsf)lved that the provinces, the army, and the king, should be informed of this hajijiy event. A deputation, headed b}' Lamourette, repaired to the palace. Lamourette shortly returned to an- nounce the king's approach, who was coming, as on the 4th February 1790, to testify his gratification to the assembly, and tell it that he coidd not brook the delay of a deputation, since it retarded his being in the midst of the representatives. The enthusiasm was carried to the highest pitch by these words ; and, if the unanimous acclamation were to be credited, the country was saved. Were there then a king and eiglit hundred deputies forming on the instant a scheme for nuitual deception, and hypo- critically feigning an oblivion of wrongs for the pur- pose of afterwards betraying each other with more certainty? No, unquestionably not; such a scheme is not formed by so large a body of men, suddenly, and without premeditation. But hatred is oppressive to the mind, and it is sweet to cast oif the encumbrance. Besides, with reference to the most threatening emer- gencies, which was the party that, in the uncertainty of victory, would not have willingly consented to maintain the present, such as it was, provided it were well assured? This scene proves, as well as many others, that distrust and apprehension produced all the animosities, that a moment of confidence dispelled them, and that the party which was called republican did not look towards a republic from principle but from despair. Why, when he had returned to the palace, did not the king write without a moment's delay to Austria and Prussia? Why did he not join to that secret proceeding some public and decisive measure? Why did he not say, like his ancestor Louis XIV., at the approach of the enemy, " We will all go!" But the same evening, the result of the proceedings instituted by the department against Pttion and Manuel was comnmnicated to the assemblj-, and this residt was the suspension of those two magistrates. From what has been since ascertained, and from the mouth of Pction himself, it is probable he miglit have prevented the movement of the 20th June, more espe- cially as he prevented others at a later date. Still his connivance with the agitators was not then au- thenticated, but it was strongly suspected ; in addi- tion to which, he M'as open to the charge of certain infractions of the law, as, for e.xami^le, of having pur- posely studied delay in his communications to the different authorities, and of having permitted the council of the commime to pass a resolution in oppo- sition to that of the department, by deciding that the Ijetitioners should be received into the ranks of the national guard. The suspension pronounced by the department was consequently legal and energetic, but impolitic. After the reconciliation of that morning, was there not in reality great imprudence in signifying, the same evening, the suspension of two magistrates enjoying such boundless popularity? True, the king referred the matter to the assembly, but that body did not conceal its dissatisfaction, and siu'lily remitted the decision to his own judgment. The galleries re- commenced their accustomed cries ; numerous peti- tions were presented with the burden of " Petion or death;" and the deputj' Crangeneuve, whose person had been insulted, demanded a report against the author of the outrage. Thus the reconciliation was already forgotten. Brissot, whose turn had come to sjieak on the question of the jjublic danger, asked for time to modify the terms of his speech, on account of the reconciliation that had taken i)lace since lie had pn'])ared it. Nevertheless, lie was miable to restrain himself from reca])itulating all the crimes of negligence and tardiness laid to the charge of the court; and, desj)ite the chimerical harmony, he concluded by demanding that the question of forfeiture should be sol( innly discussed ; the ministers impeached for hav- ing so reluctantly notified the hostilities of Prussia ; a secret connnittee apjujinted, composed of seven mem- bers, and charged to watch over the public safety ; the possessions of emigrants exjiosed to sale ; the organisation of the luitional guards accelerated ; and. finally, the declaration made without delay of The cotivtrt/ in danger. Intelligence was at the same periopear as if they had eaten of that served at table. The lady who succeeded me, found this secret service organised, and executed it in like manner : these details were never known in public, nor the apprehensio'is which had given rise to them. At the end of three or four months, the advices brought by the same spies, were to the cff'ect that this sort of plot against the king's life was no longer to be feared ; that the plan wiis entirely changed ; and that the blows intended would be as much directed against the throne as the person of the monarch." — Memoirs of Madame Campan, vol. ii. p. 188. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTIO.X. Ud Charles I. continually haunted his agonised imagina- tion. Although repulsed by the court, Lafayette had not the less resolved to save the king, and he caused a project of flight to be submitted to him, very boldly conceived. He had, in the first place, made sure of Luckner, and even wrung from the simple-minded old marshal a promise to march upon Paris. In con- sequence, Lafayette recommended that the king sliould procure an order for liim and Luckner to visit Paris, under the pretext of having their presence at the federation. The appearance of two generals seemed to him calculated to overawe the people, and prevent all the dangers apprehended upon tliat day. On the morrow of the ceremony, he urged that Louis XVI. should publicly leave Paris, under pretext of going to Compicgne, in order to give a proof of his liberty to all Europe. In case of resistance, he asked for but five* devoted cavaliers to carry him out of Paris. From Compicgne, squadrons duly stationed would convey him to the midst of the French armies, wliere Lafayette would trust to his probity for the preser- vation of the new institutions. Finally, in case none of these plans succeeded, the general was determined to march upon Paris with all his forces.f * [It is probable that this is a misprint in tlie French edition for " fifty."] t Wlien M. de Lafayette was imprisoned at OlniUtz, M. de Lally-Tolendal wrote a very eloquent letter in his behalf to the King of Prussia. He there enumerated all that tlie general had done to save Louis XVI., and gave proofs in support. Amongst the documents he adduced are the following letters, which make known tlie plans and the efforts of the constitutionalists at this period : — COPY OF A LKTTEn FROM M. DE LALL Y-TOLE.VDA L TO TUB KING. " Paris, 9th July 1792, Monday. I am authorised by M. de Lafayette, to propose directly to his majesty, for the 1.5th of this month, the same project he had proposed for the 12th , and which cannot be executed at that period since the engagement contracted by his majesty to be present at the ceremony of the 14th. His majesty must have seen the project as sent by M. de La- fayette, for M. Duport was to c.irry it to M. Montciel, in order that he might show it to his majesty. M. de Lafayette purposes being here on the 1.5th, together witli old General Luckner. They have recently seen each other, have exchanged pledges, and have but one sentiment and one plan. They propose that his majesty publicly leaves the city between them, previously \vriting to the National Assembly, assuring it that he Avill not overstep the constitutional line, and stating that he was proceeding to Compicgne. His majesty and all the royal family will be in a single carriage. A hundred trusty horsemen to escort it will be easily found. The Swiss, in emergency, and a part of the national guard, will pro- tect the departure. The two generals will remain near his majesty. Wlien arrived at Compicgne, he will have as a guard a detach- ment from that town, which is excellent in spirit, one fi'om the capital, which will be picked, and one from the army. SI. de Lafayette, all his fortresses being garrisoned as well as his reserve-camp, has disposable for this purpose in his army ten squadrons and the horse-artillery. Two forced marches can bring all this division to Compidgne. If, contrary to all probability, his majesty be prevented leaving the city, the laws being then evidently violated, the two generals will marcli upon the capital with im army. The consequences of this project arc manifest : — Peace with all Rurope through the mediation of the king ; Tlie king re-established in all liis legitimate power ; A large and necessary extension of his sacred prerogatives ; A real monarchy, a real monarcli, a real state of liberty ; A real national representation, of which the king will be tlie head and an integral part ; A real executive power ; A real national representation, chosen from those holding pro- perty ; The constitution revised, abolished in part, and in part amended, and establislied on a better basis ; The new legislative body holding its sittings only tlirccnionlhs iu the year ; Either because this project required too great a stretcli of boldness on the part of the king, or because the repugnance of the queen for Lafayette prevented The old nobility reinstated in its former privileges, not political but civil, dependent on opinion, such as titles, aims, liveries, &e. In fulfilling my commission. I dare not allow myself to proffei eitlier counsel or reflection. My imagination is too keenly alivi- to the rage which will seize upon all those bewildered heads al the tirst town which shall be taken from us, not to doubt even o; myself; so much so, indeed, that the scene of Saturday, wliich seems so tranquillising to many persons, has doubled my solici- tude. All these kisses have reminded me of .ludas. I merely ask to be one of the eighty or a hundred horsemen who shall escort his majesty, if he sanction the project ; and I flatter myself, I do not need to assure him that he will not be reached, nor any member of liis royal family, except over my coqise. I will add one word : I was the friend of M. de Lafayette before the revolution. I broke off all intercourse with him after thei^'d March of the second year ; at that epoch I wished him to be wliat he is now ; I wrote to him, that his duty, honour, and interest, all prescribed to him that course ; I detailed to him, at length, the plan such as my conscience suggested to me. He proiiiisod me ; I saw no result from his promise. I will not speculate whether it were owing to incapacity or evil purpose ; I became a stranger to him ; I declared to him my sentiments, and from none could he have ever heard more severe trutlis than from me and my friends, who were also his. At present, tlv>se same friends have reopened my correspondence with him. His majesty knows what has been the object and the nature of that correspondence. I have seen his letters ; I have had a two-hours' conference with him the night before he left Paris. He acknowledges his errors ; he is ready to devote his energies for liberty, but, at the same time, for the monarchy ; he will immolate himself, if it be necessary, for his country and liis king, two objects he no longer separates ; he is imbued, in short, with the principles I have laid dovni in this note; he gives himself wholly to them, with candour, con- viction, feeling, fidelity to the king, oblivion of self ; I answer for it on my faith. I forgot to say he requests that nothing of this shall be discussed with those officers who may be in the capital at this moment. All may suspect that there are certain projects in agitation ; but not one is acquainted wi^h the actual design. It will be enough that they know it on the morning of execution ; he fears indis- cretion, if it be mentioned to them beforehand, and none of them is excepted from the scope of this observation. P-S.— I venture to remark, that tliis project appears to me proper to be meditated upon by him alone, who, on a day for ever memorable, vanquished by his heroic courage an entire army of assassins ; by him who, on the morrow of that unexampled triumph, dictated a proclamation as sublime as liis actions had been the day before ; and not under tlie influence of the counsels which suggested the letter written in his name to the legislative body, announcing that he woidd be present at the ceremony of the 14th ; not under the influence of counsels which induced him to sanction the decree upon feudal rights— a decree equivalent in criminality to a theft on the pocket or on the highw.ay. M. de Lafayette does not admit the' idea that tlie king, onco emerged from the capital, will be under any other direction than that of his conscience and free judgment. He conceives that the first operation of his majesty ought to be the creation of a guard for his person ; he conceives, likewise, that liis project may bo modified in twenty different ways. He gives the preference to a retreat towards the north over one to the south, as being more in a Capacity to afford Ruccoiir on tliat side, and feeling appreliciiiive of the southern faction. In a word, the liherly of tlif kiiit), and llie de-iMiction oj'llw./actions—iinuh his objects in all the sincerity of his heart. What ought to follow, will follow." COPY OF A LKTTKR FROM M. DE LAFAYKTTK. " i)«j Ju/y 171)2. I had disposed my army in such a manner, that my best squadrons of grenadiers, and the horse artillery, were under the orders of M ; in the fourth division ; and if my proposition had been accejifed, I would have marched fifteen squadrons, and eight pieces of ordnance, to Compidgne in two days, the rest of the aniiy being placed in progressive stations at a march's inter- val ; and every regiment, howsoever backward at first, would have come to my aid, if my coniradeH and I had been engaged. I had overcome Luckner so far, as to make him promise to marcli on the capital with me, if the saftety of the king required it, and ho had given the necessary orders; and I have five squadrons of his army, of which I disjiose absolutely, Languedoc 144 HISTORY OF THE FREiNCH REVOLUTlOxX. him from accepting his aid, the king again refused it, and returned him a chilling answer, unbefitting the zeal evinced by the general. " Tlie best advice," this and ; the command of the horse artillerj- is also exclusively mine ; I relied upon these also marcliins to Compiegne. Tlie king has come under an engagement to be present at the federal festival. I regret that my plan has not been adopted ; but we must do tlie best with the one that lnus been preferred. The steps wliich I liavc taken, the adhesion of several depart- ments and communes, t'liat i>f -M. Luckiier, my influence over my army, and even over tlic other troops, my popularity in the king- dom, which is rather augmented than diminished, altliough much contracted in the capital ; all these circumstances, com- bined with several others, have given cause of anxiety to tlie fac- tious, by putting honest men on the alert, and I hope that the physical dangers of the 14tii July are much reduced. I think, indeed, that they will he nullified altogetlier if the king be accom- panied by Luckner and myself, and surrounded by picked batta- lions, which I can get ready for him. But if the king and his family remain in the capital, are they not still in the liands of the factious ? We will lose the first battle ; it is impossible to doubt it. The disaster wiU produce a great .-ensation in the capital. I say, moreover, that the bare supposi- tion of a correspondence between the queen and the enemy, wiU suffice to provoke the last e.xcesses. -At the very least, the king will be carried to the south ; for this idea, wliich is repudiated at present, will appear natural when the allied kings are approach- ing. I see plainly, therefore, that immediately after the 14th, a train of dangers will begin. I once more repeat, the king must leave Paris. I am aware that if his good faith were not undoubted, such a course might have unpleasant consequences ; but wlien we are asked to confide in the king, who is a man of honour, can we hesitate ? I am tormented rtith a desire to see the king at Compiegne. The two points, therefore, upon which my present project hangs, are as follow :— 1st, If the king has not yet summoned Luckner and me, it must be done forthwith. We have Luckner,- and he must be committed more and more. He will say, we are identified toge- ther ; I will say all the rest. Luckner can take me on his way, so that we may be in Paris on the evening of the 12th. The 13th and 14th may supply offensive chances ; at all events, the defen- sive will be made sure by your presence, and who knows what effect mine may have on the national guard ? We will accompany the king to tlie altar of the oountrj'. The two generals, representing two armies known to be much attached to them, wiU hinder the outrages that might otherwise be at- tempted on the dignity of the king. As to myself, I may give fresh force to the habit which some have long had of obeying my voice ; the terror I have always inspired in others since they be- came factious, and possibly some personal resources for taking advantage of a crisis, may render me useful, at least to waid off dangers. My request will be deemed the more disinterested, when the unpleasantness of my situation is viewed in comparison with the position I occupied on tlie grand federation ; but I consider it as a sacred obligation to be with the king upon that occasion, and my mind is so decided in this respect, that I im peralivcli/ require the minister at war to summon me, and that this first part of my proposition be adopted, and I beg you to let it be known by com- mon friends to the king, his family, and his council. 2dly, As to my second proposition, I believe it equally indispen- sable, and it is thus I explain it : the oath of the king, and ours, will have tranquillised all but the evil-minded, and the knaves will be for s'lnie days deprived of that pretext. I would suggest that the king write privately to M. Luckner and myself a letter common to both, and which would meet us on the way by the evening of the 11th or the morning of the 12th. Thekingwill say in it, " That, after having taken our oath, means should be adopted to prove his sincerity to foreigners ; that the best plan would be for him to pass a few days at Compiegne, w here he charges us to have in readiness some squadrons to join the natiinal guard of the place and a detachment from the capital ; that we are to acc-ompany him to Compiegne, wiience we will rejoin our armies ; that he desires us to select squadrons whose officers are known for their attachment to the constitution, and a general- officer, who is likewise above all doubt on that head." In compliance with this letter, Luckner and I will intrust M with this expedition ; he will take with him four pieces of artillery— eight, if desired ; but it is necessary the king should not speak of this, because the odium of the cannon must bo borne by U.I. On the 15th, at ten in the forenoon, the king should go to the assembly, accompanied by Luckner and me ; and whether we : may have a battalion, or only fifty horsemen, persons devoted to ' answer bore, " to give M. de Lafayette, is to continue a terror to the factious, by ably performing his duty as a general."* Tlie day of the federation was approaching. The people and the assembly were clamorous that, Petion sliould not lie wanting to the solemnity of the 14th. The king Inid already endeavoured to throw upon tlie assembly the task of approving or disapproving the sentence of the department, but the assembly, as we have seen, had constrained him to take the matter on himself, and it urged him day by day to make known his decision, in order that the question might be disposed of before the 14th. On the 1:2th the king confirmed the suspension. The intelligence of this event greatly increased the discontent. The assembly hastened to adopt a step in its turn, and it is not difiicidt to surmise its nature. The next day, that is to say, on the 13th, it reinstated Petion. But, from a remnant of respect, it adjourned its decision rela- tive to Manuel, who had been seen moving in the midst of the tumult on the 20th June, wrapped in his scarf, but making no use of his authority. At length the 14th July 1792 arrived. How times were changed since the 14th July 1790! No longer that magnificent altar tended by three hundred priests ; nor that vast plain covered by sixty thousand national guards, richly clad and regularly organised ; nor those lateral tiers thronged by a countless multitude, exu- the king or friends, we shall see if the king, the royal familj', Luckner, and me, will be stopped. 1 will suppose that we are stopped. Luckner and I would re- tiuTi to the assembly to exclaim against the proceeding, and menace it with our armies. And if the king has to turn back, his position will not be a whit the worse, for he will not have departed from the constitution ; he will have against him only the enemies of that constitution, and Luckner and I might easily draw detach- ments from Compiegne. Observe, that this does not endanger the king nearly so much as he must necessarily be by the events in preparation. The funds of which the king can dispose have been so wasted in aristocratic imbecilities, that doubtless little remains in store. But there is no question he might borrow enough, if it be neces- sary, to take advantage of the tliree days of the federation. There is also another thing to anticipate, namely, a decree of the assembly, that the generals are not to enter the capital. This ditiiculty can be obviated by the king promptly refusing his sanc- tion. If, by an inconceivable fatality, the king has already given his sanction, and, appointing us to meet him at Compiegne, he should be stopped on setting off, we would open for him the means of coming thither .Are and triumphant. It is needless to observe, that, under all circumstances, once arrived at Compiegne, he will there establish his personal guard such as the constitution gives him. I assure you that w hen I see myself surrounded by inhabitants of the country, who come ten leagues and more to see me, and to swear that they have no confidence but in me, that my friends and foes are theirs ; when I see myself beloved by my army, over which the efforts of the Jacobins have no influence ; when I see proofs of adhesion to my opinions arrive from all parts of the kingdom, I cimnot deem all to be lost, or that I have no means of rendering myself useful." * The following answer is taken from the collection of docu- ments mentioned in the preceding note : — ANSWER HOLOGRAPH OF THE KINO. " lie must be answered that I am infinitely sensible of the at- tachment for me which would urge him to take so prominent a part, but that tlie mode appears to me impracticable. It is not from personal fear, but all would be at stake at once, and, what, ever he may say, this project failing, would renderall things worse than ever, and more and more under the rod of the factious. Fontainebleau is but a blocked alley, it would be a bad retreat ; and to tlie south, to the north, would seem as if going to meet the Austrians. As to the summons to Paiis, he will have an answer ; consequently, I have nothing to say here. The presence of the generals at the federation might be advantageous : it might, be- sides, have for motive the seeing the new minister, and arranging with him for the wants cf the army. ' The best advice to give M. de Lafayette is to continue a terror to the factious, by ably per- forming his duty .as a general. He will thereby secure more and more the confidence of his army, and will be enabled to make use of it as he may desire in emergency." HISTORY OF THE FllENCH REVOLUTION. 145 berant with joy and pleasure ; nor that balcony where the ministers, the royal family, and the assembly, appeared at the first federation ! All was changed. Hatred usurped all hearts as after a faithless recon- ciliation ; and all the emblems proclaimed inveterate hostility. Eighty-three tents represented the eighty- three departments. By the side of each was a pop- lar, from the smnmit of which floated tricoloured streamers. A large pavilion was appropriated to the assembly and the king, and another to the administra- tive bodies of Paris." Thus all France seemed as if encamped in the presence of the enemy. The altar of the country Avas nothing but a stunted column, placed on the top of those steps which still remained in the Champ de Mars since the period of the first ceremony. On one side was seen a monvnnent to those who were dead, or going to die on the frontiers; on the other, an immense tree called the tree of feudalism. It arose from the midst of a vast pile, and bore on its boughs coronets, blue ribbons, tiaras, car- dinals' hats, the keys of St Peter, ermine mantles, doctors' caps, lawyers' bags, patents of nobility, es- cutcheons, coats-of-arms, et cetera. The king was to be invited to apply the torch. The oath was appointed to be taken at mid-day. The king had repaired to the rooms of the Mditary School, and there awaited the national procession, which had gone to lay the foundation-stone of a column intended to be reared on tlie site of the Bas- tille. The king ])reserved a calm dignity, and the queen strove to su])press emotions only too visible. The king's sister and his children accompanied them. Those present in the rooms were moved by some afiecting expressions, and tears moistened the eyes of more than one of them. At last the procession made its appearance. Hitherto the Champ de Mars had been almost empty, when the crowd suddenly poured into it. Beneath the balcony on which the king was placed, women, children, and drunken men, rushed pell-mell past, vocilerating " Potion ! Petion or death !" and bearing on their hats the words they had on their lips. Then came federalists arm-in-arm, carrying a model of the Bastille, and a press, with which they stopped from time to time to throw oif and distribute patriotic ballads. After them appeared the legions of the national guard and regiments of the line, main- taining with difficulty the order of their ranks amidst this rolling populace ; lastly, the authorities and the assembly. The king then descended, and, stationed in the centre of a square of troops, he walked with the procession to the altar of the country. The crowd was prodigious in the middle of the Champ de Mars, and permitted but a very slow advance. After great exertions on the part of the regiments, the king reached the steps of the altar. The queen, still stand- ing on the balcony the king had left, viewed the whole scene with an eye-glass. The tumult seemed to increase an instant about the altar, and the king to fall down a step : at this sight the queen littered a piercing cry, and terrified all around her. However, the ceremony was concluded without any accident. Scarcely had the oath been taken, than a general rush was made towards the tree of feudalism. The people desired to draw the king there, in order that he might set fire to it ; but he rid himself of their clamours by objecting very appositely that there Avas no longer any feudalism. He thereupon resumed his march towards the Military School. The troops, overjoyed at having saved him, uttered reiterated cries of " Long live the king!" The nmltitude, always irresistibly acted upon by the s])irit of sympathy, also took up those cries, and was thus as jjrompt to cheer the monarch as it had been a few moments before to in- sult him. The unfortunate Louis XVI. appeared beloved a few hours more ; the people and himself believed it for a moment ; but even illusions were become faint and evanescent, and it Avas already no longer possible to gloss over the mutual distrust. The king returned to the palace, gratified at having escaped from perils he deemed great, but in deep sadness at those he descried in the distance. The news which came every day from the frontiers redoubled alarm and agitation. The declaration of T/ie countn/ in danger had put all France in conmio- tion, and accelerated the departure of numerous fede- ralists. There Avere only two thousand of them at Paris on the day of the federation ; but they were inces- santly arriving, and their manner of conducting them- seh'es justified at once the fears and the hopes that their anticipated presence in the capital had excited. All volunteers, they AA^ere composed of the most hot- brained spirits in the clubs of France. The assembly ordered them an allowance of thirty sous a-day, and reserved the galleries for them exclusively. They soon imposed laAv upon the legislative body itself by their shouts and cheers. Associated with the Jacobins, and gathered into a club, which in a fcAv days surpassed all the rest in violence, they were ready to rise in insurrection at the first signal. They even stated so in an address presented to the assembly. They Avould not depart, they said, until the internal enemies were silenced. Thus the plan for collecting at Paris an insurrectional force Avas, despite the opposition of the court, completely realised. To this resource Avere added others. The soldiers of the former French guards were distributed amongst the regiments ; the assembly ordained that they should be united into a corps of gendarmerie. Their tenden- ' cies were of course well appreciated, for they had commenced the revolution. It was vainly objected that those soldiers, being almost aU non-commissioned officers in the army, composed its main strength. The assembly listened to no remonstrances, fearing the enemy at home infinitely more than the one outside. After having formed its oAvn forces, it was expedient to decompose those of the court, for which purpose the assembly ordered the removal of all regiments. So far it Avas Avithin the terms of the constitution ; but not contented with expelling them, it enjoined them to betake themselves to the frontiers, and in this it usurped the disposing power of the king over the public force. The object of this measure Avas more particularly to remove the Swiss, Avhose fidelity could not be doubted. To M'ard this blow, the minister put in motion M. d'Affry, their commanding officer. He ap- pealed to the terms of his engagement as a warrant for refusing to quit Paris. The assemlily made a shoAV of taking the reasons he adduced into serious consideration, but ordered in the meaiiAvhile the de- parture of two Swiss battalions. It is true the king had his veto as an opposition to these measures, but all his influence was prostrated, and he Avas no longer in a capacity to exert his pre- rogative. The asseml)ly itself could not ahvays resist the motions brought forward by certain of its members, and vigorously sui)ported by the applauding shouts of the galleries. It never failed to declare for modera- tion when possilde ; and if it yielded to measures of a highly insurrectional character on the one hand, it was found approving and Avelcoming petitions of a moderate tendency on the other. But the measures adopted, the petitions presented, and the tenor of all conversations, gaA'e token of an ajiproaching rcA-olution. The Girondists lx)th foresaAV and desired it, Avithout, hoAvever, clearly discerning the means or being easy as to the issue. Those below them complained of their inertness, and accused them of eflTcniinacy and incapacity. Tiie leaders of the clubs and sections, weary of an unproductive eloquence, called in violent terms for an active and precise direc- tion to the popular efforts, in order that they might not jtrove for ever fruitless. At the Jacobin Club was a room set apart for the management of correspond- ence, and a central committee of feileralists Avas there installed to deliberate and arrange in concert. To 146 HISTORY OF TliE FKENCU REVOLUTION. secure greater secrecy and energy to its resolutions, this coinniittee was limited to five members, and received the name uf tlie Insurrecliunal Cominitlee. These five members were Vaugeois, a grand vicar ; Debesse, from La Drome ; Guillaume, a professor at Caen; Simon, a journalist at Strasburg; and Ga- lissot, from Laiigrcs. To these were shortly added Carra, Gorsas, Fournier the Amerie;in, Westermann, KienlinofStrasburg, Santerre; Alexunch-c, commander of tlie Faubourg St Marccau; a Polo named Lazouski, captain of artillery in the battalion of the same St Marceau; Antoine of Metz, an ex-member of the Constituent Assembly, and two electors, Lagrey and Garin. Manuel, Cainille-Desmoulins, and Danton, were subsequently united with them, and exercised a paramount influence over their colleagues.* The * DETAIL OF THE KVENTS OF THK IOtH AUGUST. This is taken from a document signed " Carra," and entitled, " An Historical and exact Commentary upon the Origin and tl)e reiil Authors of the celebrated Insurrection of the loth August, which saved the Republic." The author affirms that the mayor had not the smallest share in its success, but that he was wliere ho should be \ipon tlie occasion, showing himself an undoubted guardian to the patriots. Tlie piece itself is found in the " Poli- tical Ann.-Us" for the .'iiith of November. " ' The men,' said Jerome Petion, in his excellent speech upon the impeachment moved against M.oximilian Robespierre, ' who have taken 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 inevitable nature of things ; it is due to the brave federalistS| and their secret directory, trho long before cnnccrtM the plan of the insitrrcclioii ; it is due, in short, to the tutelary genius which has constantly presided over the destinies of France since the first meeting of her representatives." It is concerning this secret directory, of which Jerome P(5tion speaks, that I am about to speak in my turn, both as a member of that directory and as an actor in all its proceedings. This secret directory was formed by the central committee of federalists, which met in the correspondence-room at the Jacobins, Rue Saint-llonore. It was from the forty-three members who had daily assembled in that room from the beginning of July, that five were selected for the directory of insurrection. Those five mem- bers were Vaugeois, grand-vicar of the Bishop of Blois ; Debessd, from the department of La Drome ; Guillaume, professor at Caen; Simon, a journalist from Strasburg ; and Galissot, from Langres. I was added to these five members, at the very period of the formation of the directory ; and a few days afterwards tliey invited to it Fournier, the American; Westermann; Kicnlin, from Strasburg ; Santerre; Alexandre, commander of the Fau- bourg Saint-Marceau ; L:izouski, captain of the artillery of Saint- Jlareeau ; Antoine, from Metz, an ex-constituent ; Lagrey; and Garin, an elector of 1789. The first meeting of this directory was held in a small tavern, the Golden Sun, in the street Saint- Antoine, near the B.istille, during the night between Thursday and Friday, 26th July, after the civic festival given to the federalists on the site of the B;istille. The patriot Gorsjis also appeared in the tavern, which we left at two in the morning to proceed to the column of liberty on the site of the Bastille, and there to die, if necessary, for the country. It was in this tavern of the Golden Sun that Fournier, the Ameri- can, brought us the red fla':;, the adoption of which I had pro- posed, and on which I had caused these words to be inscribed, ' Martini laic proclaimed by the sovereign people against the rebellion of the txecidive powrr.' It was likewise to this tavern that I car- ried five copies of a placard, whereon were these words, ' Those who fire on the columns of the people shall be instantly put to death.' This pliiciird, which was printed at Buisson the i)ublisher'8, had been taken to Santerre's hou.se, whence I went to fetch it at mid- night. Our i)lan failed this time through the prudence of the mayor, who felt doiilitless that we were not sufficiently prepared at this moment ; and the second active sitting of the directory was adjourned to the 4th August. Nearly the same persons attended th.at sitting, and, in addition, Camille-Desmoulins ; it was held at the Cadran-Bleu, on the Bou- levards ; anil at eight in the evening, it was transferred to the room of Antoine, the ex-constituent, Rue Saint-Honor^, opposite the Assumption, in the very house where Robespierre resides. Robespierre's landlady w.is so alarmed at this conclave, that slie came, about eleven o'clock at night, to ask Antoine if it were his (ilyi-ct to get Itobespierre nmrdered. ' If anyone is to be murdered," said Antoine, ' we will be the victims, doubtless ; Robespierre h.is committee thus constituted was in confederacy with Barbaroux, who promised the co-operation of his Mar- seillese, whose arrival at Paris was impatiently ex- pected. It was in commimication. also, with Petion the mayor, and obtained from him a pledge not to interfere with tlie insurrection. It promised him in return that his house should be guarded, and himself detained in it, so tliat his inaction might be justified by an appearance of constraint if the enterprise were not successful. The {ilan definitively fixed upon was to resort in arms to the palace, and depose the king. For its execution, the populace must be stimulated to movement, and some extraordinary circumstance was indispensable to effect this essential point. Exertions were made with this view, and the subject was auxiously discussed at the Jacobins'. There the deputy Chabot expatiated, with all tlie ardour of his teni{)erament, on the necessity of a grand resolution ; and said, it was greatly to be desired that tlie court should attempt the life of a deputy. Grange- neuve, himself a deputy, heard this oration : he was a man of mediocre intellect, but of an enthusiasti<; character. He took Chabot aside. " You are right," said he ; " it is necessary that a deputy should be sacrificed, but the court is too sly to afford us so ex- cellent a pretext. It must be done for it, and I killed as soon as possilde in the vicinity of the pal.ace. Pre- serve secrecy, aneen in medicine. — Biiu/rnphic M oileriti:~\ from that strange form were suddenly heard issuing fantastic and atrocious doctrines, urged in a harsh accent, and with a vulgar familiarity. It was neces- sary to strike off several thousands of heads, he was wont to say, and to exterminate all the aristocrats who rendered liberty impossiljle. Marks of abhor- rence and contempt cumulated around him. He was hooted, his feet trod upon, his miserable appearance derided ; but, accustomed to scientific contests, and to uphold the most singxdar paradoxes, he had learned to despise those who despised him, and scorned them as incapable to comprehend him. He tlienceforth made his journal the organ of the frightful dogmas with which his brain was stocked. The skulking life to which he was condemned, in order to escape the penalties of the law, had infuriated his moody spirit, and the evidences of public horror only tended to in- flame him the more. The polished manners of the times were in his eyes vices inconsistent with repub- lican equality; and in his delirious exasperation at obstacles, he saw but one medium of safety — wholesale slaughter. His studies and experiments upon the physical man had naturally liabituated him to view pain with indifltrence ; and his ardent mind, un- fettered by anj' instinct of sensibility, went directly to its purpose by the ways of blood. This idea of act- ing by extermination had gradually become system- atised in his head. He advocated a dictatorship, not to obtain for its possessor the delights of supreme power, but to lay upon him the terrible burden of purifying society. His dictator was to have a cannon- ball attached to his feet, in order that he might always be under the control of the people ; and only one fa- culty he judged essential to be vested in him, that of indicating victims, and ordering the undeviating penalty of death. Marat knew only this punishment, for he had no idea of simply chastising — he would obliterate his obstacle. Perceiving all around him aristocrats conspiring against liberty, he collected all the facts which ac- corded with his passion, denouncing with fury, and with a recklessness which resulted from that very fury, all the names suggested to him, and frequently such as had no existence. He denounced them with- out personal hatred or fear, and even without danger to himself, for he was beyond the pale of human re- lations, and those of the wronged towards the wrong- doer had ceased to prevail between him and his fel- low-creatures. A decree had been recently pronounced against him and Royou, " the friend of the king ;" and lie had concealed himself with an o])scure and indigent law- yer, who had given him shelter. Barbaroux was in- vited to visit him. Barbaroux had pursued the study of physical science, and had formerly known Marat. He could scarcely refuse to attend him upon his re- (juest, and concluded, as he listened to him, that his mind was deranged The French, according to this appalling man, were but dastardly revolutionists. " Give me," said he, " two hundred Neapolitans, armed with poignards, and bearing muffs on their left arms by way of bucklers, and with them 1 will traverse France and consummate the revolution." In order to distinguish tlie aristocrats, he desired that the assembly sliould enjoin tliem to wear a wliite ril)hon round the arm, and authorise tlieir slaughter wlien found together to the numl)er of three. Under the name of aristocrats he included royalists, Feuil- lants, and Girondists ; and when, at times, the diffi- culty of recognising them was objected to him; " There is no chance of being deceived," he was ac- customed to rei)ly ; " we may fall on those who have carriages, servants, clothes of silk, and who come out of theatres; they are aristocrats beyond doubt." Barbaroux left hitn, terror-stricken. Marat, exclu- sively jjossessed with his atrocious .system, cared little about means of insurrection, and was in fact incom- petent to lay them in tniin. Diu-ing his bloody reve- 148 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. ries, he liunjc witlv complacency on the idea of retiring to Marseilles. The repuhlican enthusiasm of that city led him to hope that he would be better under- stood and more prized there than he found himself iL'es ; but that per- sonage had no desire to make such a present to his native city, and he left in his concealment the mad- man whose apotheosis he assuredly hud not the fore- sight to discern. The systematic and sanguinary Marat, consequently, was not the active chiefcapal)le of concentrating masses widely scattered and confusedly lieaving. Robespierre seemed more suited to the task, inasmuch as he had secured for himself at the Jacobin Club the partisan- ship of many hearers, generally more energetic than readers in their ])repossessions ; but he likewise had not all the indispensable (lualities. Robespierre, an inditferent advocate at Arras, had been deputed by that town to the states-genend. He had there con- nected himself with Pction and Buzot, and supported with churlish violence tlie opinions they upheld witli a deep and calm conviction. He was ridiculed at first for the heaviness of his style and the povertj' of his ideas; but his obstinacy drew some attention to- wards him, es'pecially at the period of the revision. When, after tlie tragical scene of the Champ do ]\Iars, it was rumoured that a prosecution would be insti- tuted against the signers of the Jacobin petition, his terror and his j-outh* inspired Buzot and Roland with a degree of interest in his behalf, and they ten- dered him an asylum. But he speedily recovered courage, and the assembl}^ being dissolved, he in- trenchcil bimsi'lf amongst tlie Jacobins, upon whom he persevorin<.dy inflicted his dogmatical and inflated harangues. Having been elected public accuser, he refused that office, and laboured exclusively to gain for himself the twofold reputation of an incorruptible patriot and an eloquent speaker. His early friends, Petion, Buzot, Brissot, and Ro- land, received him in their families, and viewed with pain the morbid egotism which pourtayed itself in all his looks and movements. Those, indeed, who took any interest in him regretted that he, a man so mucli occupied with the public weal, should also think so much of himself, llowever, he was of too little im- portance to excite any serious animosity on account of his repulsive pride, and it was overlooked in con- sideration of his mediocrity and zeal. It was fre- quently remarked, that although silent in society, and rarely expressing an opinion, he took the lead tlie fol- lowing day in proj>ouiuling from the tribune the ideas he had heard drop from others. This usage was ob- served upon in his presence, but not at all in a reproach- ful strain ; nevertheless, he speedily took disgust at a society in which he met men superior to himself, as he had formerly held in sullen detestation that of the constituent members. He then betook himself alto- gether to tb(! Jacobins, where, as we have seen, he differed in opinion with Brissot and Louvet upon the question of war, and called them, possibly believed them, bad citizens, because they thought differentl\' from himself, and supported their sentiments with eloquence. Whetlier he were sincere in his prompt suspicions of those who opposed him, or maliciously calumniated them, is one of those mysteries bid from human iiitelligiMice. There is no doubt tliat, with a narrow and vulgar mind, and an extreme susceptibi- lity, lie was greatly prone to irritation, and vastly difficult to enlighten ; and it is not impossiljle that the soreness of pride may have turned into an ablior- * [Robespierre (Maximilian Isidorei was bom at Arr-is in 17.i9. His father, a barrister in tlie Superior Council of .\rtois, having ruined himself by his prmliKality, left France long before the re- volution, established a school at ColoRne, went into England, and thence to America, wliere he suffered his friends to be ignorant of his existcDue.—Jiiiiffriiphic Modernc.'] rence upon principle, and that he really believed those wicked who had roused his wrath. Be that as it may, in the inferior circle in which he was placed he succeeded in exciting enthusiasm b}- his unrelenting dogmatism, and by his reputation for disinterestedness. His popularity tlius rested mate- rially on irreflective passions and weak understand- ings. Self-denying austerity and stern tenacity cap- tivate warm imaginations, and sometimes even superior minds. There Mere, in fact, many men disposed to invest Robespierre with an energy more real, and with talents greater, than he in truth possessed. Camille- Desnioulins styled him his Aristides, and found him eloquent. Others again, without discrimination, but subju- gated by his audacious egotism, went about repeating that he was the man to jilace at the head of the re- volution, and that, without tliis dictator, it could not progress. As for himself, permitting his partisans to disseminate such opinions, he never showed himself in the conclaves of the conspirators. He even com- plained of being compromised, because one of them, an inmate in the same house with liim, had occasion- ally assembled in his room the insurrectional com- mittee. He held back, therefore, and left the field of action open to his trumpeters, Panis, Sergent, Osselin, and others, members of the sections and municipal councils. Marat, who was in search of a dictator, resolved to satisfy himself whether Robespierre was fitted for the office. The slovenly and regardless attire of Marat contrasted strongly with that of Robespierre, who was full of attention and study for his appearance. Se- creted in an elegant cabinet, wliere his portrait was multiplied in all fashions, painted, engraved, and sculptured, he there devoted Tiiinself to unremitting labour, pondering diligently upon the writings of Rousseau, and assiduously preparing his harangues. Marat saw him, found in him only petty personal liatreds, no great system, none of that sanguinary daring which worked in his own distorted fancj^ no genius in short ; he left him full of contempt for the little man, pronounced him incapable of saving the state, and more than ever persuaded that he alone possessed the great social sj'stem.* The admirers of Robespierre beset Barbaroux, and besought him to accompain' them to their idol, saying tliat a man was needed, and that Robespierre alone could fill the vacuum. This language displeased Barbaroux, whose proud spirit little brooked the idea of a dictatorship, and whose exalted imagination was already captivated by the virtue of Roland and the talents of his friends. He went, nevertheless, to the house of Rol)espierre. In their interview, the conver- sation turned on Petion, whose popularity hung hea- vily on Robesjiierre, and who, it was alleged, was incapable of serving the revolution. Barbaroux re- plied with warmtli to the reproaches levelled at Petion, and strenuously defended a character which had won his admiration, llobesiiierre spoke of the revolution, * [Itobespiene and JIarat— cneni ios in secret, to external appear- ance friends — were early distinguished in the convention; both dear to the nuib, but with diflercnt shades of character. T.ie latter paid his court to the lowest of the low— to the men of strav or in rags, who were then of so much weight in the political sys- tem. The needy, the thieves, the cut-throats— in a word, the dregs of the people, the caput uwrtuum of the liuman race, to a man supported Marat. Itubespierrc, albeit dependent on the same class to which his rival was assimilated by his ugliness, his filth, his vulgar manners, and disgusting habits, was nevertheless allied to a more elenued division of it — to the shopkeepers and scribes, small traders, and the inferior rank of lawyers. These admired in him the polile-t>x hnurrii'ohe ; his well-combed and powdered lie;id, the richness of his waistcoats, the whiteness of his linen, the elegant cut of his coats, his breeches, silk stockings carefully drawn on, bright knee and shoe buckles ; every thing, in short, bespoke the peritte- null)!!/ pretensions of Robespierre, in opiiosition to the mns-culot- tismoi yiaxaX.— Graphic History of French Nutio'Ml ConveTition.] HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 149 and repeated, according to his wont, that he had ac- celerated its march. He conchided bj- declaring, in the usual language of the time, that a man was needed. Barbaroux retorted that he wanted neither a dictator nor a king. Freron recriminated by saying tliat Brissot was labouring to become one. Thus they fell into mutual upbraitUngs, and arrived at no under- standing. When the interview was ended, Panis, wishing to correct the bad feeling engendered in it, observed to Barbaroux that he had misconceived the purpose ; that a mere momentary authority was all that they designed ; and that Robespierre appeared to them the onlj' man to whom it could possibly be given. These vague expressions, and these proofs of petty rivalry, were wliat erroneously induced the Girondists to believe that Robespierre was bent upon usurping power. A moody jealousy was taken for ambition ; but it was one of those mistakes which the clouded ej^e of party invariably commits. Robespierre, capable at the utmost of detesting merit, had neither the energy nor the genius of ambition, and his partisans formed for him pretensions which he himself shrunk from imagining. Danton was more competent than anj* other to be that leader whom all imaginations invoked for the purpose of infusing iinity into the revolutionary move- ments. He had formerly appeared at the bar, but had not succeeded. Indigent and teased with passions, he had thrown himself into the political troubles of his era with ardour, and probably with liopes. He was uninformed, but endowed witli a superior under- standing and great powers of imagination. His athletic form, his sunken and somewhat negro features, his stentorian voice, his strange yet lofty images, took captive the auditories of the Cordelier Club and of the sections. His countenance would express by turns passion in all its brutality, a jo^'ial recklessness, and even simple benevolence. Danton neither hated nor envied mortal, but his daring in attack had ho limits ; and, in certain moments of enthusiasm, he was capa1)le of executing all that the atrocious mind of Marat was capable of conceiving. A revolution, the unforeseen but inevitable conse- quence of which had been to rouse tiie lower classes of society against the higher, was sure to stimulate jealousies, to bring forth systems, and unchain the brutal passions. Robespierre was the man of envy, Marat the man of system, and Danton the man of passion — violent, fickle, and by fits cruel or generous. If the two first, occupied, the one bj- a gnawing hate, the other by demoniac reveries, were calculated to have but few of those wants which render men acces- sible to corruption, Danton, on tlie contrary, full of unbrifUed impulses and greedy for enjoyment, was but badly fitted to resist its snares. Under pretext of recompensing him for a former po.st of advocate to the council, the court gave him some rather consider- able sums ; but whilst it succeeded in bribing, it failed to gain him. He did not the less continue, on that accoxmt, to harangue and excite the nudtitude of the clubs against it. When he was reproached for not fulfilling his contract, he replied, that in order to pre- serve the means of serving the court, he must in appearance treat it as an enemy. Danton, therefore, was the most redoubtable leader of those bands which are gained and moved by rough oratory. l?iit, audacious and stimulating at the cri- tical moment, he was not fitted for those assiduous labours wliich the desire of dominion needs for reali- sation ; and althougli wielding great inlhience over the conspirators, he did not govern them. He was capable simply, in a moment of hesitation, to re-ani- mate them and drive them to their oliject by imparting a decisive impulse. The members of the insurrectional committee, mean- while, had not yet arrived at a final determination amongst themselves. The court, advertised of their sliglitest movements, adopted on its own side certain measures calculated to shelter it from any sudden attack, and to secure it time and safety until the ar- rival i){ the coalesced powers. It had originated and established a club in the vicinity of the palace, called " The French < 'lub," which was composed of artisans and soldiers of the national guard. They all had arms concealed in their place of meeting, and were in a position to fly on a pressing emergency to *he succour of the royal family. This single establishment was a charge on the civil list to the extent of 10,000 francs a-day. A native of Marseilles, named Lieutaud. had besides a body of men under his orders, who alter- nately filled tlie galleries, the public places, the cafes, and the taverns, to support a diversion in favour of the king, and to resist the riotous proceedings of the patriots.* Disputes consequently ensued in all quar- ters, and from words the parties generally proceeded to blows. But, despite all the efforts of the court, its partisans were few and weak, and that portion of the national guard which was devoted to it sunk into the greatest discouragement. A great number of faithful retainers, who had hitherto kept apart from the court, now came forward to defend the king and make a rampart round him with their bodies. Their meetings at the palace were numerous and frequent, and they augmented the public distrust. Thej' had been called " knights of the dagger" ever since the scenes of February 1791. Orders had likewise been issued to secretly assemble the constitiitional guard, which, although disembodied, had continued to receive its pay. In the mean time, confusion and disagreement pre- vailed in the counsels of the king, and produced in his feeble and naturally indecisive mind the most ago- nising perplexity. Some prudent friends, and, amongst others, Malesherbes.f advised him to abdicate ; others, and they were the more numerous, supported a pro- ject of flight, but they were in harmony neither as to the means, the place, nor the residt of the flight. To infuse some uniformitj^ into their diflTerent plans, the king desired that Bertrand de Molleville should con- sult with Duport, the ex-constitiient. Loms XVI. had great confidence in the latter, and he was obliged to lay positive injunctions on Bertrand upon the subject, as that personage pretended to have scruples against maintaining any relation with a constitutionalist such as Duport. With them were also associated in coun- cil Lally-Tolendal, Malouet, Clermont-Tonnerre, Gou- vernet, and others, all devoted to Louis XVI., but, beyond that point, differing widely in opinion upon the part to be adopted by the king, if royalty itself should be saved. In this committee the monarch's flight was fixed upon, and the Castle of Gaillon in Nor- mandy as the place of his retreat. The Duke de Lian- court, a friend of Louis XVI., and enjoying liis full confidence, commanded that province. He answered for his troops and the inhabitants of Rouen, who had declared Iw a forcible address against the events of the 20th June. He offered to receive the royal family, and conduct it to Gaillon, or to transfer it to Lafayette, wlio would carry it into the midst of his army. He furthermore tendered his whole fortune to facilitate the execution of the scheme, asking only a reservation of one hundred loius a-yc.ir for bclioof of his children. 'J'his i)lan was agreeable to the constitutional members (^f the committee, beca\ise, in lieu of jilaeiiig the king in the hands of the eiuiu^rants, it consigned liim to tlie c;ire of Liancourt and Lafayette. But from a similar motive, it was repugnant to the others, and was also likely to prove distastefid to tlie king and queen. The Castle of (jaillon had the great advantage of not being above thirty-six leagues from the sen, and of present- ing an easy retreat into England through Normandy, a jirovince fav(Uirably inclined to the royal cause. It likewise possessed another, in being scarcely twenty * See nertrand tie Moll'jvillc, vols. viii. nml ix. 1 Ibid L ISO HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. leajjues from Paris, on wliich account the king could proceed to it without infringing the constitutional law; aud that was an important consideration with him, for he clung with singular tenacity to the desire of not assmning a position of open contravention. M. de Narbonne and Madame de Staiil, the daughter of Nscker, also engenderetl a project of flight. On their side, the emigrants propounded their plan, which proposed the transport of the king to Compiegne, and hence to the banks of the Rhine t)y the forest of Ar- dennes. All are eager to pour advice i!:to the cur of I a feeble monarch, Itccauso all aspire to impress upon him a will which he has not of himself. So many contrary exhortatiiHis added materially to the natural vacillation of Louis XVI. ; and that unfortunate prince, worried by opposing counsels, convinced by the argu- ments of some, carried away by the passions of others, tortured with fears for the fate of his family, and wrung with the scruples of conscience, hesitated amidst the multitude of projects, and beheld the popular storm rolling towards him without daring either to brave or to fly" it. The Girondist deputies, who had so boldly raised the question of forfeiture, remained nevertheless in- decisive on the eve of an insiu-rection. Although the court was almost disarmed, and positive supremacy on the side of the peoi)le, still the approach of the Prussians, and the dread which ancient authority al- ways inspires, even after it has been stripped of its strength, induced them to believe that it might yet be better to negotiate with the court than risk the chances of an attack. On the supposition even that the attack were successful, they feared that the speedy arrival of a foreign army might destroy all the conse- quences of a victory over the i)alace, and visit a terrible vengeance for the momentary success. How- ever, notwithstanding this disposition to treat, they opened no negotiations upon the subject, nor ventured to take the initiative ; but they hearkened to one Boze, the king's painter, who was on intimate terms with Thierry, valet-de-chambre to Louis XVI. This painter Boze, filled with alarm at the dangers hovering over the state, besought them to transcribe what they deemed essential in the conjunctiire to save the king and liberty. They did, in consequence, indite a letter, signed by Guadet, Gensonne, and Vergniaud, and commencing with these words, " You ask from us, sir, our opinion upon the present situation of France." This exordium proves sufficiently that the explana- tion had been requested. " The time was past," said the three deputies in substance to Boze, " for thfe king to deceive himself upon any point ; and he would be strangely blinded if he did not perceive that his own conduct was the occasion of the general excitement, and of that violence in the langiiage of the clubs of which he so incessantly complained. New protesta- tions on his part would be fruitless, and seem derisory ; in the extremity to wliich things had come, nothing less woulelve> with fr.iiikiiess. It ought not to be dissembled, that the conduct of the executive power is the immediate cause of all the calamities which afflict Fnance, and of the perils which beset the throne. They deceive the king who seek to persuade him that exaggerated doctrines, the eli'ervescence in clubs, the manceuvres of certain agitiitors and powerfid factions, have engendered and sustain these dis- organising movements, of which every day may increase the violence, and of which it may soon be impossible to calculate the consequences : it is to place the cause of the nwlady in its syniiitonis. If the people were assured of the stability of a revolution so dearly inirchased, if public liberty were no longer in danger, if the conduct of the king aroused no distrust, opinions would find tlieir level of themselves ; the great mass of the citizens would think only of enjoying the benefits which the constitution pro- mises to them ; and if, in such a state of tilings, factions still existed, they would cease to be dangerous, for they woidd have neither pretext nor object. HISTORY OF THE FllENCH REVOLUTION. 151 pose, because, although he had not provoked the war, it was a duty not the less incumbent on him strenu- ously to support it ; and so far as his scrupulous adlierence to the letter of the law was concerned, a text observance was of little moment, tlie important I>oint consisting in not endangering tiie whole sub- stance by an appeal to foreign aid. But so long as public liberty is in peril — so long as the alarms of the citizens are stimulated by the conduct of the executive power, and the conspiracies hatched in the interior and the exterior of the kingdom appear more or less openly favoured by the king, the condition of affairs necessarily evokes commotions, disorder, and factions. In states the best constituted, and constituted for ages, revolutions have no other principle ; and their effect must be for us so much the more prompt, as there has been no interval between the movements wliich induced the first, and those which seem now to announce a second, revolution. It is therefore only too evident that the existing state of things must inevitably lead to a crisis, in which nearly all the chances will be against royalty. In fact, oiiinion now separates the inte- rests of the king from those of the nation ; it views the first public functionai-y of a free nation as a party leader, and, as the conse- quence of so disastrous a policy, it heajis on him the odium of all the evils which desolate France. Alas ! what will be the success of the foi-eign powers, should they even enable the king, by their intervention, to augment his authority, and give a new form to the govemmeijt ? Is it not evi- dent, that those men who foi-med the idea of that ccmgress, have sacrificed to their prejudices and their personal interest tlie in- terest of the king himself; that the success of those attempts would give a character of usurpation to powers which the nation alone delegates, and which its confidence alone can support? How is it not seen that the force which produces this change will long be necessary for its maintenance, and that thus will be sown in the bosom of the country the germ of divisions and discord, which the lapse of many ages may scarcely suffice to eradicate? As sincerely as invariably attached to the interests of tlie nation, from which we will never sever those of the kinu, except so far as he himself dissevers them, we thmk that the means of averting the calamities wherewith the empire is threatened, and of re-establishing tranquillity, will be for the king to remove, by his conduct, all grounds of susiiicion, to declare his purpose in a manner at once frank and miequivocal, and, in short, mtrench himself in the confidence of the people, which alone can consti- tute his strength and assure his happiness. And it is not now by fresh protestations that he can gain this object ; they would be derisory, and, in the present state of cir- cumstances, would seem so truly ironical, as, instead of dissipating alami , to cause an increase of danger. There is only one from which any good result might be antici- pated ; and that would be a declaration under the most soleum sanctions, that in no case will the king accept an augmentation of power, unless voluntarily conceded to him by the French people, without the concurrence or interference of any foreign power, and freely deliberated upon in the constitutional forms. Upon this subject it is observable, that several members of the national assembly are aware that such a declaration was proposed to the king when he made the proposition for war against the King of Hungary, and that he declined to promulgate it. Hut wliat would probably suffice to rwivcr him the national confidence, would be for the king successfully to impress u]ion the allied powers a sense of the independence of tlie French nation, to obtain a cessation of all hostilities, and the witlidrawal of tlie cordons of troops which menace our frontiers. It is impossible but a very considerable portion of tlio nation should be convinced tliat the king has it fully in his power to procure an iibandonment of the coalition ; and so long as it puts public liberty in peril, the king's friends need not flatter tlicm. selves that confidence will revive. Should any exertions of the king to effect this object be fruitless, lie ought at least to aid the nation, by all the means wliicli are in his power, to repel the external attack ; and should omit no- thing to free himself from the suspicion of favouring it. In this supposition, little judgment is required to perceive that the suspicionsand distrust spring from unfortunate circumstances, wliich it is inl|Hls^ible to change. To consider them as criminal, when the danger is real and can- not be gainsaid, is the surest mode of redoubling tliein ; to com- plain of exaggeration, inveigh against clubs, and attribute all to agitators, when the effervescence and the agitation are the niitural effects of circumstances, is to give tlicm a new force— to incroasn the tumult of tdie people by the very moans adopted to calm it. To the hope the Girondists entertained of finding their counsels heeded, we must unquestionably attri- bute the moderation they observed when an attempt was made to raise the question of forfeiture, daily agitated in the clubs, in tbe public groups, and in petitions. Every time they came in the name of the committee of twelve to speak of the dangers of the country, and the means of meeting them, " Go back to the cause oi the danger ! " was shouted to them ; " To the cause ! " loudly responded the galleries. Vergniaud, So long as there shall be a subsisting and ascertained action against liberty, a reaction is inevitable ; and the dcvelojiment of both the one and the other will have .an identical progress. In so deplorable a situation, tranquillity can be established only by the cessation of all dangers ; and, until that auspicious moment arrives, the point of chief interest to the nation and the king is, that those melanclioly circumstances be not continuidly rendered more exasperating by a conduct on the part of the agents of the executive, to be characterised in the mildest term as equivocal. 1st, Wherefore does the king not select his ministers amongst men the most emphatic in favour of the revolution ? Wherefore, in moments the most critical, is he surromided only by men un- known or suspected ? If it were the policy of the king to increase distrust, and excite the peojile to commotions, could a more cer- tain plan be pursued to foment them ? The choice of a ministry has been at all times one of the most important functions of the authority vested in the king ; it is the thermometer by which public opinion has alwiiys judged the dispositions of the court ; and it cannot be a matter of conjecture what effect the present selections must now have, when they, even at any other time, would have excited the most violent imirmurs. A ministry essentially patriotic, would, therefore, be one of the great means the kuig may use to recover confidence. But it would be an inconceivable blindness to imagme, that, by a single step of this nature, it could be promptly regained. It is only by time, and by constant efforts, that an expectation may be indulged of effacing impressions too profoundly stamped to be dissipated on the moment to the last vestige. 2d, At a time when all means of defence should be forthcoming —when France cannot arm all her defenders— wherefore has the king not offered the muskets and the horses of his guard ? 3d, Wherefore does not the king himself solicit a law to subject the civil list toa form of scrutiny, calculated to satisfy the nation that it is not perverted from its legitimate purposes and applied to other uses ? 4th, One decisive mode of tranquillising tlie people as to the personal dispositions of the king, would be for him to request a law regulating the education of the prince-royal, and thus acce- lerate the period at which the care of that young prince should be transferred to a governor possessing the confidence of the nation. 5th, It is still a subject of complaint, that the decree on the disembodiment of the staff of the national guard is not sanctioned. These multiplied refusals of the sanction to legislative provisions, which public opinion strenuously calls for, and the urgency of which cannot be denied, provoke inquiry into the constitutional question as liearingupon the application of the cclo to laws of emer- gency, and are assuredly not calculated to dissipate alarms ami discontent. fith. It would be advisable that the king withdraw the command of the army from the hands of M. de Lafayette. It is at all events evident he cannot in that capacity beneficially serve the public good. Wo will eoncludo this simple sketch by a general remark", namely, that everything which may obliterate suspicions, and reanimate confidence, neither imii nor ought to be neglected. The constitution is saved if the king adopt this resolution with courage, and act iijiun it with firmness. We are," &c. COI'V OF THK I.KTTKR WRITTEN TO n07,E nv THIKRRY. "I have just been scolded a second time fur having received the letter which my zeal determined me to present. However, the king hiis permitted mo to answer : — 1st, That he was always careful in the choice of his ministers ; 2d, That the declaration of war was owing solely to the mini- sters, self styled patriots ; 3d, That lie had used every exertion at the time to prevent the coalition of the powers, and that now, to remove the armies from the frontiers, there are none but general means ; 4th, That, since his acceptance, he has most scrupulously ob- served the laws of tlie constitution, but that many cither personH arc at present labouring in a contrary spirit." 152 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. Brissot, and the Girondists, replied that the committee had its eyes on the cause, and thai when the time should arrive they would unmask it ; but tliat fur the present it was not expedient to introduce a new topic of discord- But it was irrevocably fixed that all the means and projects of ne^'otiation should tall to the ground ; and the catastrophe, long foreseen and dreaded, came hastily on, as we shall shortly see. niAPTER XI. INSLUKKCTION OF THK lOXH AUGUST, AND SUSPENSION OF TITE KING. In continuation <>f a festival given to the federalists, the insurrectional committee decided tliat the people should move, early on tlie morning of the 26th July, in tliree columns upon the palace, and march with the red flag bearing this inscription : " Those who fire on the columns of the people shall he instantly put to death .'" The object was to constitute the king a pri- soner, and to incarcerate him in Vincennes. Tlie national guards of Versailles were canvassed to assist the movement ; but they liad been apprised so late, and the Parisians were so little in concert with them, that their oflicers came to the town-haU of Paris, on the verj' morning appointed, to inquire what tliey were expected to do. The secret, besides, was so ill guarded, that the court was fuUy aware, the whole royal family arisen, and tiie p:dace full of people. Petion, percei-ving that the measures had been badly taken, apprehending some treachery, and, above all, reflecting that the ilarseillese had not yet arriveil, repaired in all haste to the faubourgs, in order to arrest a movement which nmst ruin the popular party if it were not successful. A friglitful tumidt prevailed in the faubourgs : tlie tocsin had been sounded the whole night. The more to infuriate the people, a report was spread that a pile of arms was hoarded in the palace, which must be thence reclaimed Petion succeeded, with infinite difficulty, in restoring order. The keeper of the seals. Champion de Cice, who had accompanied him, re- ceived some sabre-cuts ; but tlic populace idtimately consented to disperse, and the insurrection was ad- journed. The petty acerbities and disputes, which are the ordinary preludes to a definitive rupture, kept the excitement from subsiding. Tlie king had ordered the garden of the Tuileries to be closed since the 20tli June. The terrace of the Feuillants, contiguous to the hall of assembly, was tlie only part left open, and sen- tinels were placed to prevent any one passing from that terrace mto tlie garden. D'Espremenil was there encountered, conversing energetically with a deputy. He was liooted, pursued into the garden, and carried to the Palais-Royal, where he re(-eived several woxmds. The lines which prevented access to the garden hav- ing thus been -violated, it was proposed that a decree shoidd supply a more efficient safeguard. The decree, however, was not passed, but in lieu thereof it was moved tliat a paper sliould be exhibited bearing these words : " Frohi/iition rtrjuiiist i/ilrrinfi a foreign territory." The i)lacard was planted, and sufficed to 'prevent the people from overstepping the limits, although the sentinels had Iwen removed by orders from the king.* Thus the last vestiges of outward regard were cast away. To exemplify the feeling more, a letter from Nanci, detailing several civic manifestations which * [" A line traced on the ground at the two extremities of the terrace, and tricoloured ribbons tied across all the passages, with the device of Ne plus ultra suspended to them, sufficed to keep on the terrace the immense populace that crowded it. while the rest of the garden was deserted."— JSfr/raji//'/ Aiiwils, vol. vii. p. 71.] had taken place in tliat town, was immediately copied out and transmitted to the king. At length, on the 30th, the Marseillese arrived They were five hundred in number, and counted in their ranks all the most enthusiastic spirits of the south, and all of the most turbulent character whom an active trade di-ew to the port of Marseilles. Barbaroux went as far as Charenton to meet them. On this occasion a new project was concerted with Santerre. Under pretext of going to welcome the Marseillese, it was resolved to collect the faubourgs, march in rank to the Carrousel, and there encamp without tumult, j cahnly to await the suspension of the king by the assembly, or his voluntary abdication. This plan was ; agreeable to the philanthropists of the party, who I woidd have wished the revolution terminated without I effusion of blood. It failed nevertheless, because San- terre did not succeed in assembling the faubourgs, and I could only muster a smaU nmnber of men to meet I the Marseillese. Santerre thereupon offered them a repast, which was served in tlie Champs-Elysees. It happened that, on the same day, and at the same hour, a companj- composed of national guards of the battalion Filles Samt-Thomas, and other individuals, civihans or military, aU partisans of the court, Avere dining near the place where the Marseillese were re- galed. This entertainment could certainly not have been arranged with a design to disturb that of the INIarseillese, inasmuch as the invitation given to the latter had been quite sudden, for instead of a banquet an insurrection had been in contemplation. It was, however, scarcely possible that persons of such oppo- site principles should peaceably conclude their carou- sals in the immediate vicinity of each other. The populace uisulted the royalists, who came out to de- fend themselves ; the patriots, called to assist the popidace, rushed to the scene with ardour, and battle was forthwith joined. The contest was not of long duration ; the Marseillese, faUing on their adversaries, put them to flight, slew one, and wounded severaL In a moment Paris was in universal uproar. The federalists traversed the streets, and tore away all cockades of ribbon, exclaiming that they ought to be of woollen. Some of the fugitives arrived, aU bleeding, at the Tuileries, where they were received with open arms, and treated with an attention quite natural under the circumstances, smce they were viewed as friends who had tallen victims to their loyalty. The national guards on duty at the palace reported these details, exaggerated them perhaps ; and thus were propagated fresh rumours and fresh animosities against the royal family and the ladies of the court, who had, it was said, wiped away the perspiration and the blood of the wounded with their kerchiefs. It was even C(jncluded from these facts that the scene had been jirepared ; and the ground of a new accusation against the palace was hence supplied. The national guard of Paris immediately demanded the removal of tlie Marseillese ; but it was hooted by the galleries, and its petition met with no attention. It was m the midst of these events that a document was disseminated, professing to emanate from the Duke of Brunswick, and shortly ascertained to be authentic. We have already spoken of the mission of Mallet-du- Pan. He had presented in the king's name the form of a manifesto, but its spirit was speedily scouted. Another manifesto, dictated by the passions of Co- blentz, and sanctioned by the name of Brunswick, was published in advance of the Prussian array. This document was conceived in the following terms : — " Their majesties the emperor and the King of Prussia having confided to me the command of the combined armies which tlie.v have assemi^led on the frontiers of France, I deem it fitting to apprise the inhabitants of-that kingdom of the motives which have influenced the measures of the two sovereigns, and the views wliich guide them. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 153 After having arbitrarily confiscated the rights and possessions of the German princes in Alsace and Lor- raine, disturbed and oTerthrown the established order and legitimate government in the interior of the king- dom, directed against the sacred person of the king and liis august family attacks and outrages which are still continued and renewed from day to day, those who have usurped the reins of government have at last filled the measure of iniquity by declaring an im- just war against his majesty the emperor, and uivad- ing liis provinces sitiiated in the Low Countries. Some of the possessions of the German empire have been comprised witliin the scope of tliis oppression, and several others have escaped the hke danger only by yielding to the imperious menaces of the dominant party and its emissaries. His majesty the King of Prussia, united with his imperial majesty in a close and defensive alliance, and himself a preponderant member of the Germanic body, has consequeuth' felt himself imperatively called upon to march to the succour of his ally and Ins co-estates ; and it is in tliis double relation that he assumes the defence of that monarch and of Germany. To these paraniomit mterests is joined an object equally momentous and dear to the hearts of the two sovereigns, namely, to put an end to the anarchy pre- vailing in the interior of France, to suppress the at- tacks levelled at the throne and the altar, to re-esta- blish the legal power, to restore the king to the security and liberty of which he is deprived, and to place him in a condition to exercise the legitimate authority rightfully his. Assured that the soimd part of the French nation abhors the excesses of a faction which holds it in thraldom, and that the majority of the inliabitants impatiently await the moment of assistance to declare openly against the odious enterprises of their oppres- sors, his majesty the emperor and his majesty the King of Prussia siunmon and exhort them to return without delay to the paths of reason and justice, of order and peace. With such views it is tliat I, the undersigned, the general commanding in chief the two armies, declare, 1st, Tliat drawn into the present war by irresistible circumstances, the two aUied courts propose to them- selves no other object than the happiness of France, without any pretension of aggrandisement by con- quests. 2d, That they have no intention of interfering in the internal government of France ; but that they desire simply to deliver the kuig, the queen, and the royal family, from their captivitj', and to procure for his most christian majesty the security necessary to enable him to make, without danger and without hindrance, such convocations as he shall judge expe- dient, and to devote himself to the welfare of his sub- jects accorduig to his promises and to the utmost of his power. 3d, That the combined armies will protect the towns, hamlets, and villages, and the persons and property of all those who submit to the king, and will assist m tlie immediate re-establislmient of order and police throughout France. 4th, That the national guards are summoned to watch pro\'isionally over the tranquillity of towns and rur;d districts, and the security of tlie persons and property of all the French, until the arrival of the troops of their imperial and royal majesties, or until it be otherwise ordered, under pain of being held per- sonally responsible ; that, on the other liand, those national guards wlio shall fight against the troops of the two alhed courts, and shidl be taken with arms in their hands, will Ix' treated as enemies, and chastised as relxils to their king and disturbers of the public peace. 5th, That the generals, officers, non-commissioned officers, and soldiers of the French tnxjps of the line are, in like manner, summoned to return to their for- mer allegiance, and immediately to submit to the king, their legitimate sovereign. 6th, That the memlxirs of departments, districts, and mmiicipalities, shall be in like manner responsible, in hfe and estate, for all breaches of the peace, burn- ings, assassinations, robberies, and acts of violence, which they shall allow to be committed, or shall not have notoriously attempted to prevent in their juris- dictions ; and that they, furthermore, shall be bound to continue the provisional exercise of their functions mitn his most clu-istian majesty, when restored to full hberty, have otherwise provided, or it have been other- wise orilered in the interval. 7th, That the inhabitants of towns, hamlets, and villages, who shall dare defend themselves against the troops of their imperial and royal majesties, and fire upon them, whether in the open country or from the windows, doors, and apertures of their dwellings, shall be instantly pimished according to the rigom- of martial law, and their dwellings demolished or burnt. On the contrary, all the inhabitants of the said towns, hamlets, or villages, who shall evince alacrity in sub- mitting to their king, by opening their gates to the troops of their majesties, will be from that moment under their immediate protection ; their persons, estates, and effects will be under the aegis of the laws ; and means will be taken to assure the general safety of all and each of them. 8th, The city of Paris and all its inliabitants, with- out distinction, are held bound to submit instantly, and without any delay, to the king, to restore that prince to full and entire liberty, and to ensure him, as well as all the royal personages, the inviolabihty and reverence which the laws of nature and society imixjse upon subjects towards their sovereigns ; their imperial and royal majesties rendering personidly responsible for all events, at the risk of their heads, according to martial trial, without hope of pardon, all members of the national assembly, the department, the district, the municipality, and tlie national guard of Paris, justices of peace, and all others whom it may concern ; their said majesties fmihermore declaring, on their imperial and royal faith and word, that if the palace of the Tuileries be forced or insulted, if the least violence or outrage be perixjtrated towards their ma- jesties the king and queen, and the royid family, if their safety, preservation, and liberty be not immedi- ately provided for, they will exact an exemplarv* and ever-memorable vengeance, by delivering up the city of Paris to mditary execution and total destruction, and the rebels guilty of resistance to the dire chastise- ment they vrill have merited. Their imperial and royal majesties promise the hihabitants of the city of Paris, on the other h;md, to employ their good offices with his most christian majesty to obtain pardon for their v\Tongs and errors, and to take the most vigorous measures to seciu-e their persons and property, if they promptly and strictly conform to the injunctions here- tofore proclaimed Finally, their majesties, refusing to recognise as laws in France any but such as sludl emanate from the king, in the enjoyment of undoubted freedom, protest in advance against the authenticity of all the decLora- tions which may be made in the name of his most christian majesty, so long as his sacred person, and tlie persons of the queen and all the royal family, shall not be in security ; in pursuance of which, their im- perial and royal majesties invite and entreat his most christian majesty to lumie a town in his kingdom con- tiguous to the frontiers, most eligible in his opinion for his retiring to with the queen and his family, under a strong and sure escort, which shall be sent to him for that purjiose, in order that his most christian ma- jesty may call around him, in full security, the mini- sters and counseUors whom it shall please him to de- signate, make sucli convocations as sliall appear to him suitable, provide fdr the re-establishment of order and regulate the administration of liis kingdom. 154 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. In fine, I declare and promise, iii nw o^vii name, and in my above-mentioned quality, to cause a faithful and strict discipline to be obserAed by the troops uitrusted to my command, niulertakinfj: to treat with mildness and "moderation those well-disposed people who shall ednce a peaceable and submissive spirit, and to employ force only against those who shall be guilty of resist- ance and of evil intentions. For these sufficient reasons, I require and exhort all the inhabitants of the kingdom, in the strongest and most earnest terms, not to oppose the march and operations of the troops I connnand, but rather to grant them every wliere free access, and all the coun- tenance, succoui-, and assistance which circumstances may need. Given at Head-quarters at CMentz, the 25th July 1792. (Signed) Charlks William Ferdinand, Duke of Bnmswick-Lunebm'g." With regard to this declaration, it is somewhat sur- prising that, altliough dated on the 2.5th at Coblentz, it was in Paris ou tlie 2Sth, and published in all the royalist journals. It produced an extraorduiary sen- sation, causing all the eflects of higlily wrought pas- sions coming to inflame other excited passions. On all sides pledges were exchanged to resist to the last an enemy whose language was so liaughty and threats so vindictive. In the existing state of feeling, it was natural tiuit the king and the court should be accused of this new fault. Louis XVI. hastened to disavow the manifesto by a message; and he could do so, doubtless, with perfect sincerity, since it was so diffe- rent from the model he had proposed ; but he might have seen by this example how his intentions would be exceeded by his party, if that party ever became the dispenser of fate. Neither his disavowal, nor the expressions with wliich lie accompanied it, were avail- able to satisfy the assembly. In speaking of the wel- fare of that people, whose happiness had been ever dear to his heart, he added, " How manj^ sorrows woidd be effaced by the slightest mark of its i-eturnl " These affecting terms no longer elicited tlie enthu- siasm they were once wont to evoke ; they were viewed only as words of perfidy, and many deputies supported the motion for printing the king's message, on the ex- ])ress ground of cUsplajing to the public the contrast they iield to exist between the language and the con- duct of the king. From tliis moment the agitation rai)idly increased, and circumstances assumed a more portentous character. Intelligence was bi-ought of a resolution by which the department of the Mouths of the Rlione determined to retain the taxes, in order to pay the troops it had sent against the Savoyards, and accused of insuthciency the measures adopted 1)y the assembly. This daring act was owing to the instiga- tions of Barbaroux. The resolution was annulled by the assembly, but without being effective to prevent its execution. It was reported, at the same time, that tlie Sardinians, who were advancing, numbered fifty thousand. Tlie minister for foreign affairs found it necessary to come in person, and assure the assembly that the armament did not exceed at the utmost ten or twelve thousand men. To this rumour succeeded anotlier. It was asserted that tlie small body of fede- ralists actually at Soissons had been poisoned by glass l)eing mixed with their bread. Assurance was even positive that one hundred and sixty had already cx- j)ired, and that eight hundred were stretched in sick- ness. Infonnations were taken, and it was ascertained that the flour being deposited in a church, some of the panes had been broken, and pieces of the glass found in the bread ; but there were none either dead or ill. On the 25th July, a decree had constituted all the sections of Paris in permanence. They had assembled and charged Fetion to propose in their name the de- thronement of Ix)uis XVI. On the morning of the .Id of August, the Mayor of Paris, emboldened hy this eiiv'.vgetic expression of opinion, presented himself at the bar of the assembly to urge a petition iu the name of the forty-eight sections of Paris. He inveighed against the conduct of Louis XVI. since the com- mencement of the revolution, and recapitidated, accord- ing to the language of the era, the benefits conferred by the nation upon the king, and the proofs of his ingratitude. He descanted upon the dangers with which all minds v/ere oppressed — the approach of the foreigner, the ineflBciency of the means of defence, the revolt of a general against the assembly, the opposi- tion of many departmental directories, and the terrible and monstrous threats uttered m the name of Bruns- wick ; in consequence whereof, he concluded for the deposition of the king, and requested the assembly to put that important question in the order of the day. Tliis demand, which had been hitherto made only by clubs, federalists, and commmies, assumed a very different character when presented in the name of Paris, a,nd by its mayor. It was heard with a feeling of astonishment rather than of favour in the morning sitting. But in the evening, the debate was opened, and one part of the assembly gave way to the fuU current of passion. Some called eagerlj^ for an instant discussion of the question, and others urged its adjourn- ment. The assembly finally delayed it till Thursday the 9th August, and continued to receive and read the various petitions expressing, -with EtUl more energy than the mayor, the like desires and sentiments. The section of Mauconseil, surpassmg all the others, was not contented with demanduig the deposition, but pronoimced it of its ovm plenary authority. It de- clared that it no longer recognised Louis XVI. as King of the French, and that it mtended shortly to come and ask of the assembly whether it reaUy de- signed to save France. Furthermore, it invited all the sections of the empire (no longer using the word khigdom) to follow its example. From what lias been alreadj"^ stated, it is manifest that the assembly did not yield to the insurrectional movement so swiftly as the uiferior authorities; and for tliis reason — it was obliged, from its position as guardian of the laws, to pay them more respect. It consequently foimd itself frequently outstripped by the popular bodies, and its power violently shaken. It therefore annulled the resolution of the section of !MauconseU. Vergniaud and Cambon made use of the most severe expressions against that pi'oceeding, which they stigmatised as an usm'pation of the sovereignty of the people. It would seem, however, that they did not so much condemn in this act the violation of prin- ciples as the precipitation of the resolutionists, and especially the impropriety of their language with re- ference to the national assembly. But now the term of all uncertainties was drawing rapidly nigh. The same hovu- saAV meetings of the insm-rectional committee of the federalists, and of the king's friends discussing his flight. The committee defei'red the insurrection to the day appointed for the debate on the deposition, that is to say, to the even- ing of tlie 9th August, in readiness for the morning of the lOtli. On their part, the king's friends deliberated on his flight in the gardens of IM. de ]\[ontmoriu. Liancourt and Lafayette renewed their propositions. Every thing was arranged for the departure ; money alone was deficient. Bertrand de MoUeville had fruit- lessly exhausted the civil list in subsidising i-oyalist clubs, orators of assemblies, orators of mobs, and i)re- tended corrupters, who corrupted nobody, but appro- priated to themselves the largesses of the com't. The want of funds was met by loans, which generous sub- jects were eager to ofler theu* king. The proposals made by JI. de Liancourt have been already men- tioned ; he gave all tlic money he had l)cen able to raise. Other persons supplied what was in their power. Devoted adlierents volunteered to accompany the car- riage which was to convey the royal family, and if necessity arose, to die at its side. All being arranged, the nuetuig at ^Montmorm's finalh' settled the dcpar- HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 155 ture, after a consultation which lasted for some hours. The king, who was immediately afterwards waited upon, gave his consent to this determination, and directed that a considtation should be held with Messiem-s de Moutciel and de Sainte-Croix. However much the opinions of the men who had joined to etFect this enterprise might differ, it was to them all a mo- ment of happiness, when they beUeved the monarch's deliverance so near at hand.* But the folIoAving day all was changed. The king caused an intimation to be given that he woidd not depart, because he was not disposed to commence a civil war. All those who, in sp'te of their dissimilar principles, took an equal interest in his welfare, were thrown into consternation. They were aware that his real motive was not the one he had assigned. The veritable reasons tliat weighed with him were, in the first j.'lace, the approach of Brunswick, which was announced as immediate ; and ui the next, the adjourn- ment of the insurrection ; but, above all, the refusal of the queen to trast herself with the constitutionalists. She had manifested her repugnance m the most em- I)hatic terms, saying that it was better to perisli than be beholden to men who had done the king so much mischief.f Thus all the efforts of the constitutionalists, and all the dangers thej' incurred, were completely thro'wn away. Lafayette had seriously compromised himself. It was known that he had prevailed on Luckner to march, in case of emergency, against the capital. Tliat general, being called before the assembly, had coii- fessed all to the extraordinary committee of twelve. The old man was weak and fickle. Vilien he jiassed from the hands of one party into those of another, he was easily brought to avow all he had heard or said on the previous occasion, afterwards excusing hunself for his breach of confidence by alleging his ignorance of the French language, and weeping, and complaining that he v.-as sm-rouuded by none but factious men. * The following document is amongst those quoted by 51. de Litliv-Tolendal in his letter to the King of Pniasia: — " COPY OF THE MINUTES OF A .IIEETING HELD Oy THE 4tH Al.GUST 1792, WRITTEN IN THE HAND OF LALLY-TOLENDAL. ith Auguxt. W. de Moiitmorin, ex-minister of foreign affairs; M. Bertrand, ex-minister of t\f Lafayette. A great majority declared against his im- peachment. Some deputies, exasperated at the acquit- tal, demanded a call of votes ; and upon this second trial, 446 members had the courage to pronounce in favour of the general against 224. The populace rose in fury at the intelligence, flocked to the door of the hall, msidted the deputies as they came out, and grossly maltreated tliose, more especially, who were known to belong to the right side of tlie assembly, sucli as Vaublanc, Girardin, Dumas, &c. Indignation was loudly expressed in all quarters against the na- tional representation, and Paris rang with the clamoiu" that all hope of safety was at an end with an assembly capable of absolving the traitor Lafayette. The following day, the 9th August, an extraordinary agitation prevailed amongst the deputies. Those wh.o had been insulted the evening before, complained in person or by letter. When it was stated that JI. Beaucaron had been nearly hanged, a barbarous laugh ran through the galleries. When it was added that M. de Girardin had been struck, those who were well aware of the indignity offered to hhn, asked him, sneeringly, where and how. " Ah ! do you not know," retorted il. de Girardin, with digiiified asperity, " that cowards never strike but from behind?" At "lengtli a member called for the order of the day. But the assembly decided that the procurator-syndic of the commime, Rcederer, should attend at the bar, to be specifically charged, upon his individual res]>onsibility, to vindicate the freedom and inviolability of the mem- bers of the assembly. A motion was made to summon the Mayor of Paris, and insist upon his declaring, yea or nay, whether he could preserve the public tranquillity. Guadet replied to this proposition by one for summoning the king also, and obliging him in his turn to declare, yea or nay, whetlier he coidd answer for the safety and in- violability of the French soil. However, amid these conflicting propo>itions, it was very evident that the assembly ch'eaded the decisive moment, and that the Girondists themselves would have preferred obtaining the deposition by a debate to having recourse to a doulitful and sanguinary attack. Borderer arrived in this state of affairs, and an- nounced that a section had detennincd to sound the tocsin, and march upon the assembly and the Tuileries, if the deposition were not adjudged. I'efion entered in his tm-n : his exijlanations were far from being positive, but he confessed that sinister projects were in agitation ; he enumerated the precautions talcen to prevent the movements Avhich were tlireatcncd, and undcrtuuk to co-operate with the department in giving effect to its measures, if tliey ai)i)eared to him more advisable than those of the nuniicijiality. Petion, like all his Girondist friends, would have rather iiad the dejiosition pronomiccd by the assembly than incur the risks of an uncertain assault upon the palace. A majority in favour of deposition bcin;: 156 HISTORY OF TUE FRENCH REVOLUTION. almost secure, he would have willingly foiled the pro- jects of the insurrectional committee. He accordingly appeared before the committee of superintendence at the Jacobins', and urged Chabot to suspend the insur- rottion, assuring him that the Girondists luid deter- mined upon the dethronement, and the inmiediate convocation of a national convention ; that they were certain of a majority, and that it was useless to hazard an attack with a very doubtfiJ result. Chubot replied that there was nothing to hope from an assemldy which had alisolved the irretch Lafaijette; that he, Tetion, allowed himself to be played upon by his friends ; that the people had at last taken the resolu- tion to save themselves, and that the tocsin would ring that very evening in all tlie faubourgs. " You will always be fuadstruiig, then," said Petion, in answer. " Evil betide us, if tliey rise in insurrec- tion ! I know your iiithience, but I have also some, and I will employ it agahist you." " You will be ar- rested," observed Chabot, " and prevented from doing any hirm." The passions were in truth too higlily excited for the fears of Petion to be participated, or his influ- ence of any avail. An univers;d uproar prevailed throughout Paris ; drums beat to arms in all the quar- ters -, the battalions of the national guard assembled and repaired to their posts, with various dispositions. The sections were filled, not by the majority, but by the most furious of the citizens. The insmTcctional committee had formed at three points. Fournier and some others were in the Faubourg St Marceau ; San- teiTc and Westermaun occujMed tlie Faubourg St An- tolne ; finally, Danton, Camille-Desmouhns, and Carra, sat at the Cordeliers', with the battalion of JSIarseilles. ISarbaroux, after stationing informants at the assem- bly and the palace, had prepared couriers in readiness to take the route to the south. He had, as an additional precaution, provided himself with a dose of poison, so dubious was the hope of success ; and he awaited at the CordeUers' the result of the insurrection. It is not known where Robespierre lurked : Danton had con- cealed Marat in a cellar of the section, and then taken possession of the tribune at the Cordeher Club. Every one felt oppressed, as always on the eve of a momen- tous crisis ; but Danton, i-ising m boldness with the greatness of the enterprise, exalted his sonorous voice to its highest pitch ; he enumerated what he styled the crimes of the court ; he recalled its hatred for the constitution, its deceitful words, its hjTiocritical pro- mises, always belied by its conduct, and its palpable machinations to introduce foreigners. " The people," said he, " can no longer rely upon any but themselves, for the constitution is insiifficicnt, and the assem])ly has absolved Lafayette ; therefore, there remain for you only yourselves to save you. Iklake haste, then, for this very night satellites concealed in the palace are appouited to make a sally on the people, and com- plete a massacre before quitting Paris to join Coblentz. Save yourselves, therefore. To arms! to arms!" At this moment a musket-shot was fired in the Court of the Commerce. The cry " to arms ! " mstantly became general, and the uisurrection was proclaimed. The time was half-past eleven. The Marseillese f()rmed at the doorof theCordiliers', appropriated some pieces of cannon, and swelled their numbers by a vast concourse falling in at their sides. Camille-Desmouliiis and others rushed away to have the tocsin sounded ; but they did not meet with the same ardour in all tlie sections. They strove without loss of time to arouse their zeal; si)eedily succeeded in assembling them to- gether, and getting commissioners named to take p<>ssession of the town-hall, disi)lace the existing nm- nicipality, and concentrate in themselves all authority. Then they Hew to the bells, seized u])on them by main forco, ancl commenced ringing the te) iting from street to street, and from edifice to edi- fice, summoning deputies, magistrates, and citizens to their posts, and reaching at length tlie palace, there to announce that the fatal night was come — a night of terror, of agitation, and of blood, the last appointed for the monarch to pass in the palace of his fathers. Its emissaries hastened to apprise the court that the critical moment was at hand, bearing with them the plirase of the president of the Cordeliers, who had said to his followers that a simple civic promenade was not now in contemplation, as on the 20th Jmie ; or, in other words, that if the 20th June had been the warning demonstration, the lOtli August was in- tended to be the decisive catastrophe. No doubt, indeed, was entertained upon the subject. The king, the queen, their two children, and their sister the princess IClizabeth, instead of retiring to rest after supper, had passed into the council-room, where all tlic ministers and a gi'eat many superior officers were asseml)leil. There they deliberated with troubled minds upon the means of savmg the royal family. The means of resistance were but small, having been almost annihilated, either by the decrees of the as- scnd)ly, or by the ill-judged measures of the coiu-t itself. Thus, the constitutional guard, dissolved by a de- cree of the assembly, had not been replaced by the king, who had preferred continuing its pay to forming a new one. By this loss the palace was deprived of eigliteen hmidred men at least. Tlie regiments which had evinced favourable dispo- sitions towards the king during the last federation, had been removed from Paris by the accustomed me- thod of a decree. The Swiss could not be sent to a distance, by virtue of tlieir capitulations ; but they had been denuded of their artillery ; and the court, when it had decided for a moment upon fleeing into Normandy, had dispatched thither one of those faithful battahons, under pretext of watching over the landing of corn. This battalion had not been yet recalled. ]\Ierely a few Swiss, can- toned at Courbevoie, had retm-ncd, under the sanction of Petion, and altogether they chd not amount to more than eight or nine hundred men. The gendarmerie had been recently composed of the old soldiers of the French guards, the authors of the 14th July. Lastly, the national guard had neither the same leaders, nor the same organisation, nor the same at- tachment, as on the 6tli October 1789. Its statT, as we have ah-eady remarked, had been reconstructed. A midtitude of citizens had grown disgusted with the ser^'ice ; and those avIio had not actually deserted their colours, were intimidated by the fmy of the populace. The national guard was therefore composed, like all the bodies in the kingdom, of a new revolutionary generation. It was divided, as all France was divided, into constitutionalists and republicans. The entire battalion of the FUles Saint-Thomas, and part of that of the Petits-Peres, were devoted to the king, whilst the others were indifferent or hostile. The artillery, whic'i constituted their prmcipal strength, were all decided republicans. The fatigues attendant upon that branch of the service had scared from it the rich bourgeoisie ; thus locksmiths and farriers became masters of the camion, and they participated ii all the feelings of the populace, inasmuch as they formed part thereof. Consequently there remained to the king but eight or nine hundred Swiss, and somethiDg more than one battalion of the national guard. Since the retirement of Lafayette, the command of the national guard had passed alternately to the six legionary leaders. On this day it devolved on the commander Mandat, an old soldier, iu bad odour with the court on accomit of his constitutional opinions, but ins])iring it with entire confidence from his firm- ness, talents, and attachment to his duties. IMandat, general-in-chief during that fatal night, had hastily j made the only possible disjKjsitions. j HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 157 The floor of the grand gallery which joined the Louvre to the Tnileries had been sawn asimder to a certain extent, by way of debarring the assailants from that ajiproach. ISIandat therefore gave no furtlier heed to the protection of tliat wing, but devoted all Ids attention to tlie courts and the garden. Notwith- standing the call to muster, but few of the national guards had congregated. Tlie battalions had not been completed, and the most zealous of the body repaired individually to the jjalace, where IMandat embodied and distributed them conjointly with the Swiss, in the courts, tlie garden, and the apartments. He fixed a piece of ordnance in the court of the Swiss, and tliree in that of the pruices. These pieces were unfortimatcly intrusted to the gimners of the national guard, and the enemy was thus already ^vitlim the walls. But tlie Swiss, fidl of ardom- and fidelity, kept an eye upon tliem, read}^ at tlie first hostile movement to seize upon the cannon and expel tlie artillerymen from the enclosure of the palace. i'landat had furthermore planted some advanced posts of gendarmerie at the colonnade of the Louvre, and at the town-liall ; but this gendarmerie, as we have just remarked, was composed of the former French guards. To these defenders of the palace must be added a crowd of old retainers, whom their age or their modera- tion had prevented from emigrating, and who, in the moment of danger, liad hastened thither, some with a view to gain absolution for not having gone to Co- blentz, and others with the generous intention of dying at the feet of their king. They had hastily snatched up all the weapons they coidd find at the palace, some appearing with antique sabres, others with pistols attached to their belts by kerchiefs, and some even with the tongs and shovels of the fire-places. Witti- cisms were not wanting in this dismal moment, when the court had siu'ely enough to make it serious for once. This concoiu'se of useless persons, far from being capable of any service, mcommoded the national guard, which regarded them Mdth suspicion, and only tended to increase a confusion already too great. All the members of the departmental directory had repaired to the palace. The virtuous Duke of La- rochefoucauld was there, as likewise Eoederer, the procurator-syndic. Petion had been summoned also, and lie arrived, accompanied by two municipal officers. Petion was lu'gcd to sign an order to repel force by force ; and he signed it, to avoid appearing an accom- plice of the insurgents. The court congratidated it- self on having him witliin the palace walls, and hold- ing in his person a hostage dear to the jieople. The assembly, advertised of this purpose, ordered him to the bar by a decree. The king, who was strongly advised to detain him, refused to do so ; and he ac- cordingly left the Tuileries without molestation. The order to repel force by force once obtainc-d, various opinions were volunteered on the manner of using it. In such a state of excitement, it was but natural that extravagant notions should lie suggested. There was one of great bohhiess, and winch probably miglit have been attended with success, namely, to anticipate the assault liy disi)ersing the insurgents, who had not yet assembled in great force, forming, I even with the Marseillese, at tlie utmost a mob of a few tlitnisand men. At this moment, in fact, the Faubourg Saint-Marceau liad not congregated ; San- terre was hesitating in the Fauboupg Saint-Antoine ; Danton and the MarseiUcse alone had been daring enough to meet at the Cordeliers', and they were wail- ing impatiently on the Saint-IMichael bridge for the junction of the other assailants. A vigorous sally might have dislodged and scattered them; and in this moment of hesitation, a sudden panic wovdd have infallibly prevented the insurrection. Mandat acted upon a more certain and legal plan, T.'hich consisted in awaiting the march of the fau- bourgs, but attacking them on two decisive points as soon as they were in movement. lie purposed that when one body debouched on the square in front of the town-hall, by the arcade of Saint-Jean, it should lie suddenly charged, and the same tactics adopted at the Louvre agauist those who should advance by the I'ont-Neuf (the New Bridge), along the quay of the Tuileries. With this view, he had ordered the gen- darmerie stationed at the colonnade to allow the insurgents to defile past, and afterwards to charge tliem in the rear, whilst the gendarmerie placed in the Carixjusel should fall upon them through the wicliets of the Louvre, and make the attack in front. The success of sucli measures was almost certain. The commanders of the diffijrent posts, and especiallj the one at the town-hall, had already received from jMandat the necessary or(lers. It has been previously stated that a new munici- pality had been formed at the town-hall. Danton and Manuel were the only members of the old body re- tained. The orders given by Mandat were shown to this insurrectional committee. It instantly summoned that commander to give attendance at the town-hall. The summons was taken to the palace, where the for- mation of a now commune was unknown. Mandat hesitated to obey; but those aroimd him, and the members of the department themselves, being pro- foundly ignorant of what had passed, and of opinion that it was not yet time to infringe the law by a re- fusal to appear, lu'ged him to go. He yielded to their arguments, and dehvering to his son, who \^•as with him at the palace, Petion's order to repel force by force, he dejiarted, in accordance witli the summons of the municipality. It was about foiu- o'clock in the morning when he left the palace. The moment he entered the town-haU, he was struck with amazement at finding a new authority installed there. He was mimediately surromided, interrogated respecting the orders he had given, and then dismissed ; but in dis- missing him, the president made a sinister gesture, indicative of a judgment of death. The mifortunate commander, accordingly, had scarcely reached the street, when he was seized, and laid prostrate by a pistol-ball. His clothes were torn oft; but the assassins were disappointed in finding J'etion's order, which he had taken the precaution to leave with his son ; and his body was thrown into the river, whither so many corpses were destined speedily to foUow. This bloody deed paralysed all the measures of defence taken at the palace, destroyed all unity of operation, and completely prevented the execution of Mandat's plan. However, allhirs were nut even yet quite desperate, and the msurrection was far from being entirely organised. The Marseillese, after long and impatiently awaiting the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, without its appearing, had concluded, for a time, that the enterprise had proved abortive. But W'esternumn, placing his sword on Santerre's breast, had com- pelled liim to march. 'I'he faubourgs had then sue- ! cessively come forward, some arriving by the Street Saint-liouore, others by the New Bridge, the Koyal Bridge, and the passages of the Louvre. The Mar- seillese marched at the head of the cohnnns, with the Breton federalists, keeping tlieir cannon iKiintetl on the palace. To the numerous inxly of insurgents, swelling with every instant, was added a nndtitude of curious} and thus the enemy aiqjeared, from the Tuileries, in greater force than it really was. Whilst they were bearing towards the palace, Santerre repaired to the town-hall to receive his nomination as commander- in-chief of the national guards, and Westerniann re- mained on the field of battle to direi ' the assaihuits. Thus an extnu)rdinary confusion prevailwi in all quarters, and to such an extent, indeed, that Petion. who, aeconling to the jilau fixed upon, was to have been ]iut under the guard of an insurrectional force, was still waiting for the troop intended to shield bird fi-om responsibility by an appearance of construiiit 15i< HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. He was obliged to send a communication to the town- hall, when at length a few hundred men were dis- patched to his door, in order to support the pretence K-i his being under arrest. The palace was by this time effectually blockaded. The assailants were on the square, and risible in the dawning light through the antique gates of the courts, and from the windows of the edifice. Their artiUery was descried pointing directly on the palace, and within the walk their corifused shouts and relentless yells struck its inmates' ears with consternation. Tlie project of anticii>ating tlieir attack had been again suggested ; but when the murder of ilandat was known, the ministers and the directory of the depart- ment were of opinion that the assault should be waited for, so that in using force they might be within the strict limits of the law. Roederer went through the ranks of the garrison, and issued to the Swiss and the national guards the legal order, enjoining them to refrain ftx)m attacking, but to repel force by force. The king was urged to review in person the brave men who were drawn up to defend him. The tmfortunate monarch had passed the night in listening to the multifarious and conflict- mg counsels poured into his ear; and in the rare intervals of quietude, he had offered up prayers 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, " this is the moment to show yourself"' We are even as- sured that, snatching a pistol from the belt of the aged D'Afl&y, she somewhat roughly presented it to the king. The eyes of the princess were inflamed with weeping, but her brow seemed loftier than ever, and her nostiils dilated with wrath and haughty pride. As for the king, he dreaded nothing on his own account, and even evinced a perfect coolness in this extreme peril ; but he was in the greatest alarm for his family, and the anguish he felt at seeing it thus exposed, had thrown a dismal sadness over his coimtenance. He nevertheless presented himself with much firmness. He wore a violet dress, and a sword by his side ; his hair, which had not been dressed since the day before, was somewhat disordered. On appearing at the bal- cony, he perceived, without visible emotion, a formid- able park of artillery pointed against the edifice. His presence excited a remnant of enthusiasm ; the caps of the grenadiers were suddenly hoisted on the points of swords and bayonets, and the ancient cry of " Long live the king I" echoed for the last time under the arches of his paternal palace. A last spark of courage was infused, dejected countenances brightened for a moment, and again there was a fleeting interval of confidence and hope. It was at this instant that some new battalions of the national guard arrived, which had formed later than the others, and now came up, according to the orders previously given by JIandat. They entered whilst the cries of " Ixsng live the king ! " were resoimding in the court. Som.e joined in these salutations to the monarch, whilst others, being of very opposite sentiments, believed themselves in dan- ger, and recalling all the popular fables they had heard, imagined they were about to be delivered up to the knighu of the dagger. They inmiediately shouted out that the wretch 5landat had betrayed them, and thus excited a species of tumult. The artillerymen, insti- gated by the example, turned their pieces against the front of the palace. A contest forthwith ensued with the loyal battahons : the artillerymen were disarmed, and transferrtl to a detachment, and the new comers were conducted to the gardens. After havirg shown himself on the balcony, the king descended the staircase to hold a review in the courts. His approach was proclaimed, and all fell into their ranks. He passed along them with a tran- quil cotmtenance, throwing upon each an expressive look, which penetrated every heart. Addrc*ssiiig him- self to tlie soliliers, he told them, in a firm voice, that he was deeply sensible of their attachment, that he would remain at their side, and that, whilst defending him they defended also their wives and children. He afterwards traversed the vestibule to proceed into the garden, but at that very moment he heard the cry of " Down with the veto '. " shouted by one of the bat- talions which had just entered. Two oflBcers who were attending him wished him to abstain from hold- ing the review in the garden, whilst others entreated him to visit the post of the Turning-Bridge. He at once consented to the latter proposal, although he was obliged to pass along the terrace of the Feuillant?. crowded with people. In crossing tliis space, he was crJy separated from the infuriated mob by a tri- coloured string ; and as he advanced, all sorts of in- sulting and outrageous expressions were heaped upon him. He had even the mortification to behold the battalions move off, march down the garden, and issue out of it before his eyes, with the intention of swelling the ranks of the assailants on the square of the Car- rouseL This desertion, that of the artillerymen, and the shouts of " Down with the veto," extinguished all hope in the breast of the king. At the same time, the gendarmes stationed at the coloimade of the Louvre and elsewhere, had either dispersed or joined the people. The national guanis, likewise, who occupied the apartments, and on whose fidelity it was thought implicit reliance might be placed, were discontented at being associated with gentlemen, and openly mani- fested distrust of them. The queen endeavoured to remove these impressions. "Grenadiers," she ex- claimed, pointing to those gentlemen, " they are your comrades ; they have come to die by your side." But, in spite of this apparent courage, her soul was filled with despair. The review had ruined alL and she com- plained bitterly that the king had shown no energy. We are bound to repeat, however, that the king had no apprehensions for himself; he had, in fact, refused to wear a coat of mail as on the 14th Jidy, saying, that on a day of battle he must be tmcovered like the meanest of his servants. Courage, therefore, was not deficient in him, as he afterwards evinced in a truly ncble spirit ; but boldness in the offensive failed him, { and he lacked consistency also, in trembling at the ] idea of bloodshed, when he had consented to an inva- • sion of France by foreigners. It is certain, mean- while, as has been often asserted, that if he had , mounted on horseback, and made a charge at the I head of his soldiers, the insturection would have been ! quelled- I The members of the department, perceiving the uni- j vers-al disorder prevailing in the palace, and despair- i ingof a successful resistance, now presented themselves i to the king, and advised him to retire into the hall of I the assembly. This advice, so often and so harshly I censured — the common fate, indeed, of all counsels I given to kings which turn out inauspiciously — was the only feasible one at the moment. By this retreat, all effusion of blood would be preventc-d, and the royal , family escape an almost certain death should the palace be taken by assaidt. And in the actual position of affairs, the success of that assault was not doubtful ; but had it even been so, the doubt itself was sufficient ' to warrant a timely withdrawal fixjm its hazard. The queen vehemently opposed the proj ect, however. " Madam," said Roederer to her, " you would expose I the Uves of your consort and of your children ; reflect I on the responsibility you take upon yourself" An I altercation of some warmth ensued. At last the king I decide*! upon retiring into the assembly ; and, turning j to his family and those aroimd him. he said, with an 1 air of resignation, " Let us go." *' You answer, sir, for the lives of the king and my children," said the queen, addressing Roederer. " iladam," replied the procurator-syndic, " I answer for my dying at their side, but I promise nothing more." The whole party then prei>ared to move uif towards HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 159 the assembly, by tlie grarrlen, the terrace of the Feiiil- lants, and the court of the ilanege. All the gentle- men and the servants of the p;ilace rnshed forward to follow tlie kmg, aUhough thej^ were Hkely to enilanper his safetj', by irritating the people, and raising the bile of tlie assembly by their presence. Eoedercr used fruitless endeavours to stop them, repeating to them, with all his strength, that they would cause the mas- sacre of the roj-al family. He succeeded at length in detaching a considerable number, and the party com- menced its march. A detachment of Swiss and of national guards accompanied the king. A deputation from the assembly came to receive him, and conduct him within its precincts. At this moment the crowd was so great that aU progix'ss was stopped. A grena- dier of lofty stature took up the dauphin, and raising him in liis arms, penetrated through the multitude, bearing him above his head The queen, at this sight, imagined he was carrying off her son, and uttered a shriek, but her fears were speedily calmed. The grena- dier entered the hall, and deposited the royal cliild on the table of the assembly. The king and his family shortly followed, accom- panied by two ministers. " I come," said Louis XVI., " for the purpose of preventing a great crime, and I believe, gentlemen, tliat I cannot be in greater safety than in the midst of you." Vergniaud presided. He replied to the monarch, that he might rely on the fii-mness of tlie national assembly, and that its members had sworn to die in defence of the constituted authorities. The king seated himself by the side of the presi- dent ; but on the observation of Chabot, that his pre- sence might interfere with the freedom of debate, he was placed in the box of the reporter empldyed to take down the proceeduigs.* The iron rail in front was directed to be broken doA\'n, in order that if the box were attacked, he and his family might fly without impediment mto the midst of the assembly. The king assisted with his own hands in the work of de- molition ; the raiUng was overturned, and the insuJts and menaces thus rolled more freely into the last asylum of the dethroned monarch. Roederer then gave a recital of what had passed ; he depicted in strong colomrs the fury of the multitude, and the dangers to which the palace was exposed, the courts of which were alread}- forcibly occupied. The assembly thereujion ordered that twenty commission- ers should proceed to tranquillise the people. They being named, forthwith departed. All at once a dis- charge of cannon was heard. Consternation pervaded the whole assembly. " I have to apprise you," said the king, " that I have just prohibited the Swiss from firing." Eut the roar of cannon was again heard, mingled Avith the report of fire-arms. Dismay was at its height. The next moment it was announced that the commissioners dejjuted by the assembly had been put to flight. Then the door of the hall was assailed, and loud and rejK'ated blows resounded on its pannels, whilst at one of the side entrances armed citizens actually appeared. " We are stormed !" ex- claimed a municipal officer. The president put on his hat; a number of deinities sprang from their seats to expel the intruders ; by degrees the tumult sub- sided, and amidst the uninterrupted rolling of cannon and musketry, the deputies raised their voices and shouted — " The nation, libertj', equality, lor ever!" A most sanguinary conflict meanwhile had been proceeding at the palace. When the king quitted it, it was naturally concluded that the people would cease from seeking vengeance on ;i forsaken residence; and, furthermore, the confusion in which all things and minds were involved had prevented due attention being paid to it, and no order had been given for its evacuation. Simply, the troops which occupied the * [" This box was the one occupied by the apcnts of the editor of u newspaper called The Lopn(;ra]ihe, and was but ten feet square ••md six feet high."— nnii-and, vol. vii. p. 15!).] courts -were drawn into the interior of the palace, and confusedly scattered through the apartments, com- mingled with domestics, gentlemen, and officers. A l)rodigious crowd thronged the palace, and, notwith- standing its vast extent, it was scarcely possible to mo^-e a step. The populace, who were perhaps ignorant of tlie king's retreat, after waiting for some time before the principal barrier, at length attacked the gate, broke it ojien with axes, and rushed into the royal comt. They then fonned in column, and turned against the palace the pieces of ordnance imprudently left in the court after the withdrawal of the troops. However, they refrained as yet from commencing an assault. On the contrar}^, they made amicable demonstrations to the soldiers at the Avindows : " Yield us the palace," they cried, " and we are friends 1" The S^viss mani- fested pacific intentions, and threw their cartridges out of the windows. Some of the assailants, more audacious than their comrades, broke out of column, and advanced to the vestibide of the palace. At the foot of the grand staircase, some timber had been thrown up m the form of a barricade, behind which SavIss soldiers and national guards had stationed them- selves A^ithout any attempt at order. Those avIio came up from the mob outside endeavoured to penetrate farther and to clear the barricade. After a contest of some diu'ation, Avhich did not lead, hoAvever, to actual combat, the barrier Avas throAvn doAvn. Then the assailants crowded up the staircase, with repeated exclamations that the palace must be delivered up to them. It is asserted that at this moment some of the pikemen, who had remained in the court, grappled certain Saviss sentinels on duty outside Avith iiooks, and massacred them ; and it is likewise stated that a musket-ball Avas fired against the Avindows, Avhich the Swiss, in a moment of indignation, returned by a general discharge. At this very instant, in fact, the p;dace resomided Avith a terrific volley, and those of the people avIio had entered fled Avitli cries that they were betrayed. It is diliicidt to ascertain A\-ith precision, amidst so gi'eat a confusion, from which side the first shots were fired. The assailants have asserted tlitit they advanced amicably, and when entangled in the palace, to have been treacherously attacked and moAved doAA-n ; which aflegation is void of probability, for the SAviss Avere not in a position to provoke a combat. Having no k)nger any obligation to fight after the departure of the king, their great object would necessarily be to save themselves, and assuredly a useless piece of treachery Avas not the Avay to gain their purpose. Resides, even could an act of aggression, distinctly proved, in the smallest degree alter the moral character of these events, it must ahvays be confessed that the first and real aggression, that is to say, the attack on the palace itself, came from the insurgent mob. What ensued Avas nothing but an inevitable accident, and attributable to chance alone. Rut, hoAvsoever the case may be, those Avho had advanced into the vcstibtile and up the staircase, were startled by a sudden discharge, and Avhilst they were flying in i>recipitation, received on the very stairs a shower of biillets. After this, the Swiss came down in good order, and Avhen they reached the foot of the staircase, debouched by the vestibule into the royal court. There they seizeopulace, it was not enough to have suspended royalty, it was necessary to destroy it. I'etitions quickly succeeded each other on this sub- ject ; and whilst waiting for a reply, the nmltitude raged outside the hall, blocked up the passages, besieged the doors, and twice or thrice attacked them so violently as to induce a belief they were forced, and to excite ap- prehensions for tlie unfortunate family which had been consigned to the guardianship of the asseml)ly. Henry Lariviere, being dispatched with other commissioners to tranquillise the people, returned at this instant. and exclaimed with a loud voice, " Yes, gentlemen, I know it, I have seen it — I assure you, the peo[)le are deterniined to perish a tliousand times ratlier than dishonour liberty by any act of inhumanity ; and most assuretlly, there is not one person licre present — and my worils will be imderstood — that may not impUcitly rely on French honour." This bold and encouraging speech was loudly applauded. Vcrgniaud spoke in his turn, and replied to the petitioners, who demanded tliat tlie suspension should be rendered a deposition. " I am delighted," said he, " that an occasion is af- forded me to explain the views of the assembl}' in the presence of the citizens. It has decreed the suspen- sion of the executive power, and convoked a convention to decide irrevocably on the gi-eat question of dethrone- ment. In this it has kept within its powers, which do not permit it to sit in judgment on royalty ; and it has pn)vided for the sivfety of the state, by removing from the executive power the j^ossibihty of doing harm. It has thus satisfied all wants, without overstepping the limits of its functions." These words produced a favourable impression, and the petitioners themselves, struck by their force, undertook to instruct and ap- pease tiie people. It was at last felt indispensable to bi-ing this pro- longed sitting to a close. The assembly consequently ordered that the effects brought front the palace sliould 1)6 deposited with the commune ; that the Swiss, and all other detained persons, should either be guarded at the Feuillants', or transferred to different i)l;ices of confinement; and, lastly, that the royal family should be kept at the Luxumbourg until the meeting of the national convention, Ijut tliat, whilst the necessary preparations were making for its reception, it should be lodged in the immediate locality of the assembly. At one o'clock in tlie morning of Saturday the 11th, the royal family was removed into the lodging des- tined for it, and wliich consisted of four cells belonging to the old Feuillants. The nobles who had kept by the king occupied the first ; the king the second ; the queen, his sister, and his children, the two others. The wife of tlie keeper attended upon the princesses, and officiated in lieu of that numerous train of ladies, who, the evening before, had emulated each other in zeal for their service. At three in the morning the sitting was suspended. Uproar stdl prevailed throngliout Paris. To avert riots, the environs of the palice were illuminated, and most of the citizens remained undi-r arms. Such was that celebrated day, and such its imme- diate results. The king and his family were prisoners at tlie Feuillants', and tlie three disgraced ministers rei)Iaced in office ; Danton, burrowing the day before in an obscure club, was minister of justice; rctioii was consigned to his own liousc, but his name, pro- claimed with entlmsiasm, was gilded with the appel- lation of " Father of the people." ]\Iarat, arisen from the secret liolc in whieli Danton had ensconced him dirring the attiick, and armed v.^ith a sabre, paraded through Paris at the head of the ilarseillese battalion. KobespieiTc, whom we have been unable to trace dur- ing those terrible scenes, harangued at the Jacobins', and discoursed to some members around him on the uses to be made of the victory, on the necessity of superseding the actual assembly, and of putting La- fayette under impeachment. The following day, it was still found necessary to take mciisures for cahning the excited populace, who continued to massacre all whom it took for fugitive aristocrats.* The assembly resumed its sitting at seven in the morning of the 1 1th. Tlie royal family was replaced in the box of the Loyogruphe, to witness the decrees that were about to lie passed, and the scenes to be enacted in the legislative hall. Petion, freed and escorted by a numerous mob, came to give a;i accomit of the state of Paris, which he had traversed, and where he had laboured to infuse the spirit of peace and order. Certain citizens had constituted them- selves his guards, to protect a life deemed so precions. Petion was warmly congratulated by the assembly, and took his departure to continue his pacific exhor- tations. Tlie Swiss, remitted the evening before to the Feuillants', were threatened with imminent danger. The populace demanded their death with loud cries, caUing them accomplices of the palace and assassms of the people. The assembly succeeded in quieting the ])o])ular wi'ath by an announcement that the Swiss would he tried, and that a court-martial was about to be ibrmed for the punishment of those who were stig- matised as "the conspirators of the lorh August." *' I demand," shouted the fm-ious Chabot, " that they be conducted to the Abbey in order to be tried. In the land of equality, the law strikes at all persons, even those seated on a throne." The officers had been already transferred to the Abbey, and the soldiers were sent thither in their turn. This was accomplished with infinite difficulty, and the popiJace required re- peated promises that they Avould be promptly judged. Thus we see the idea of taking vengeance on all the defenders of royalty, and of visiting on them the dangers the insurgents had incurred, was ah'eady aroused in the piibUc mind, and was shortly to origi- nate rancorous divisions. In following the progress of the revolution, we have previously discerned the seeds of those differences which had begmi to arise amongst the popular party. We have seen the as- sembly, composed of eidightened and sedate men, placed in a position of resistance to the clubs and nnmicipalities, in which were congrcgrated men in- ferior in education and in talents, but who, from their very station, their less refined manners, and their in- ordinate ambition, were led to agitate and precipitate events. We have seen, that on the eve of the 10th August, Chabot difiered in o]nnion with Petion, who, in unison with the majority of the assembly, was de- sirous that a decree of deposition shoidd be preferred to an attack by open force. Those men, therefore, who had recommended extreme measures of energy, were the following day in an attitude almost antago- nistic to the assemlily, elated with a victory gained in spite of it, as it were, and reminding it, in terms of equivocal respect, that it had absolved Lafayette, and must take Ciire not again to compromise the safety of the people by any fresh weakness. They filled the commune, where they had as their colleagues ambi- tious citizens, sul>ordinate agitators, and clubbists; tbey ruled at the Jacobins' and Cordeliers', and some amongst them sat on the extreme benches of the legis- lative I)ody. The Capuchin Chabot, the most furious of all, passed alternately from the tribune of the as- * [" In the long list of the victims of this horrid day was M. de Clermont Tonnerre, one of the members of the first asseniBly, most distininiished for his talents, his errors, and his endeavours to atone for them. M. Carle, colonel of the eendarmeric, also lost his life for the proofs of attachment lie had given to the king. Bertrand, vol. vii. p. IIW.J HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 163 scnibly to tluit of the Jacobins, and talked incessantly of pikes and the tocsin. The assembly had pronounced the suspension, and these more relentless eliaracters claimed the deiDosi- tion ; by naming a governor for the dauphin, it had contemplated rojalty, and they were eager for a re- public ; it held in its majority that an active defence should be made against foreigners, but that mercy should be shown to the vanquished ; they maintained, on the contrary, tliat not only must the foreigner be resisted, but also vengeance wreaked on those, who, intrenched in the palace, had designed to massacre the people, and bring the Prussians to Paris. Rising in their artlom- to the most extreme ideas, they argued that the electoral bodies were not necessary to form the new assembly, but that all the citizens ought to be deemed competent to vote. One Jacobin even pro- posed that poUtical rights should be given to women. They proclaimed aloud, in short, that the people nuist appear in arms to manifest their wishes to the legis- lative body. Marat strove to stimidate this raging effervescence and the ciy for vengeance, because he judged, accorthng to his hateful system, that it was expedient to pm-ge France. Robespierre, less from any system fomided on the idea of purification, or from any iimate thu'st for blood, than from en\y to- wards the assembly, heaped upon it reproaches of weakness and royalism. Extolled by the Jacobins, and proposed before the 10th August as the indispen- sable dictator, he was now proclaimed as the most eloquent and incorruptible defender of the rights of the people. Danton, concerning him self neither about being praised nor listened to, and without having ever aspired to the dictatorship, had nevertheless decided the day on the 10th August by his indomitable daring. And now, again, despising all parade, he thought only of swaying the executive comicil, of which he was a member, by overawing or leading his colleagues. In- capable of hatred or envy, he entertained no bad feeling against those dex)uties Avhose fame mortified Robes- pierre ; but he contemned them as inert, and preferred those energetic men of the inferior classes, upon whom he placed greater reliance for maintaining and con- summating the revolution. These divisions were not suspected out of Paris. AU that the public of France could discern was the resistance of the assembly to demands of too extreme a character, and the absolution of Lafayette, pronounced in spite of the eommmie and the Jacobins. But all was attributed to the royalist and Femllant majority ; the Girondists were still admh-ed, Brissot and Robespierre equally esteemed, and Petion especially adored as the mayor so maltreated by the court. It was not can- vassed, for it was not knowm, that Petion ap'peared too moderate to Chabot, that he womided the pride of Robespierre, that he was viewed as a useless an'.; honest man by Danton, and as a consjurator, amenable to purification, l)y Marat. Petion was, indeed, still encompassed by the ajiplausesof the people ; but, like Bailly after the 14th July, he was soon to be consi- dered vexatious and odious, by condemnmg excesses lie was impotent to prevent. The principal coalition of the new revolutionists was formed at the Jacobin Club and at the conmnme. All projects were proposed and discussed at tlie Jaco- bins' ; and the same men afterwards came to execute at the town-hall, by means of their nnmicipal func- tions, what they coxdd simply propound in their club. The council-general of the connnune comjwsed of it- self a species of assembly, equally nuinerous with the legislative body, having also its triliunes, its ofticers, its yet more vociferous ajiplauders, and an actual power much more consick-rable. The mayor was its presi- dent, and the proeurator-sj'ndic its official spokesman, chinged to submit all necessary re(iuvdtionK. I'ction had already withdrawn his attendance, and confined himself to the superintendence of tlie subsistence de- pannient. The procurator Manuel, yielding more to the revolutionary flood, took a conspicuous part iu its proccecUngs every day. But the person who exercised the greatest sway in this assemblage was Robespierre, standing apart during the three first days succeed- ing the 10th August, he had repaired thither orJy after the insurrection was consummated; and, present- ing himself at the table to have his powers verified, he seemed as if come to take possession of a rightful dominion, rather than to submit his qualification. His reserve, far trom displeasing, only augmented the re- spect manifested towards him. His reputation for talents, integiity, and perseverance, invested hun with a grave and respectable character, such as the as- sembled citizens Avere proud of possessing amongst them. Uiuing the interval to elapse before the meet- ing of the convention, of which he felt sure of being elected a member, he proceeded to exercise a power in the commime more substantial than the influence of opinion he already enjoyed at the Jacobin Club. One of the first cares of the commmie was to take the police department into its own hands ; for in periods of civil strife, the power of arresting and cri- minating enemies is the most important and valued of privileges. The justices of peace, who had hitherto in part possessed it, had incurred odium by their proceedings against popidar agitators, and thus stood, whether vohmtardy or not, in hostilitj' to the patriots. He especially was called to mind who, in the affair between Bertrand de IMolleville and the journahsfc Carra, had dared to cite two deputies. The justices of peace, therefore, Avere dismissed, and all their func- tions relative to the pohce transferred to the mmiicipal authorities. In agi-eement on this point Avith the comnnme of Paris, the assembly passed a decree, or- daming that the police, intitided " of general safely" should be vested in the departments, districts, and nnmicipalities. This police was to consist in inves- tigating all delinquencies endangering tlie hiaiutl and external safety of the state, in drawing up a list of citi- zens suspected on account of their opinions or their conduct, in an-esting them provisionally, and in dis- persing and disarming them, if any necessity for so doing should arise. The councils of the municipalities were the parties destined to exercise this ministry, and the entire mass of the citizens Avas thus called upon to observe, to denounce, and to persecute the liostile party. It may be conceived that this demo- cratic police Avould necessarily be singularly active, but likcAvise rigorous and arbitrary. The Avholc coiui- eil Avas to recciA'e the denunciations, and a committee of surveUla7ice to examine them, and order the arrests. The national guards Avere put in permanent re(iuisition, and the municipalities of all toAvns containing uinvards of 20,000 inhabitants Avere empowered to add peculiar regidations to this laAv ofijerieral safety. Tlie Legisla- tive Assembly, unquestionably, had no idea of prepar- ing the way by this measure for the massacres Avhich subsequently took place ; but. surrounded by enemies Avithin and without, it summoned all tlie citizens to keep Avatch upon them, in like manner as it had called them all to combat and pjirticipate in the adminis- tration. The commune of Paris hastened to exercise these ncAv jioAvcrs, and made numerous arrests. Its members appc iired in the light of concpicrors still exas]ierated at the (hiiigers just overcome, and at tliose yet greater they had to encounter, who seized upon their enemies, beaten doAvn for the moment, but probably soon to rise again by the aid of foreigners. The surveillance committee of the commune of Paris Avas composed of the most violent persons. Marat, Avjio, during the course of the revolution, had so recklessly thundiTed his anatliemas, was the chairman of thaf conmiittee. and of all men he Avas the most formidable Avhen in- vested Avith such functions. Besides this princi]ial committee, the commune of Paris instituted a particular one in each section. It decreed that passports shoidd be granted only upon 164 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. the investigation of the sectional assemblies ; that travellers should he accompanied, either to the muni- cipsility, or to the gates of Paris, by two witnesses, who should attest the identity of the person who had de- manded the passport, with tliat of him who used it for departure. It thus endeavoured, by tlie most strin- gent means, to prevent the escape of tlie suspected under fictitious names. It subsequently ordered tliat a catalogue should be drawn up of tlie enemies of the revolution, and invited tlie citizens, by proclamation, to denounce the criminals of tlie lOtli August. It caused the editors who had supported the royal cause to be arrested, and gave their printing-presses to the patriot editors. Marat got fom' presses restored to him in triumph, which he alleged had been taken from him by the orders of the traitor Lafaf/ette. Com- missioners visited the prisons to set at liberty those who were incarcerated for exclamations and harangues against the court. Lastly, always on the alert to extend its influence, the commune, after the example of the assembly, dispatched deputies to gain uverthe army of Laf lyette, concerning wliich much uneasiness was felt. The commune was intrusted with a further charge, not less important, namely, that of guarding the royal family. The assembly had at first ordered its trans- ference to the Luxumbourg, and on an objection being urgeil that that palace was difficult to guard, it decided for the mansion of the minister of justice. But the commune, holding now the police of the capital, and deeming itself, therefore, peculiarly charged with the s;ife keeping of the king, proposed the Temple, declar- ing it coidd not answer for his security unless enclosed within the tower of that ancient abbey. The assembly consented, and handed over the august prisoners to the mayor and the commander-in-chief Santerre, taking the guarantee of their personal responsibility.* Twelve commissioners from the council-general were appointed to keep watch ^vitllout intermission at the Temple. Certain outer works had rendered this edifice a sort of fortress. Numerous detachments of tlie national guard formed its garrison by rotation, and no access was permitted, except by authority from the munici- pality. The assembly decreed that 500,000 francs should be taken from the treasury to provide for the main- tenance of the royal family until the meeting of the National Convention. The functions of the commune were, as may be gathered from the preceding relation, very extensive. Situated in the centre of the state, where sovereign powers were exercised, and urged by its ardour and energy to execute of itself whatever seemed to it too feebly attempted by the other authorities, it was led to make incessant encroachments. The assembly, discerning the necessity of restraining it within cer- tain limits, decreed the election of a new departmental council, in lieu of that which had been dissolved on the day of the insurrection. The commune, perceiving itself threatened with the yoke of a superior authority, which would probably obstruct its course, as the old department had done, was furious at this decree, and ordered the sections to discontinue the election which had already commenced. The procurator -syndic Manuel was dispatched from the town-hall to the Feuillants', to present the remonstrances of the muni- cipality. " The delegates of the citizens of Paris," said he, " require pow^jrs without limits : an authority jilaced between them and j^ou will only sow the seeds of discord. It will compel the people, in order to deliver themselves from a power destructive of their sovereignty, once more to arm themselves for ven- geance." Such was the menacing language wliicli the assembly had already to brook. It granted what was demanded ; ;.nd, either because it deemed resistance impossible or * The kins ^nd his family were conducted to the Temple on /he evening of the 13th August. imprudent, or because it considered it Dangerous at the moment to shackle the energy of the conimiuie, it decided that the new comicil shoidd have no authority over the municipality, but simply constitute a committee of finance, intrusted with the superin- tendence of the public contributions in the department of the Seine. Another much graver question occupied attention ; one which was destined to elicit still more forcibly the different feelings which actuated the commune and the assembly. Loud clamours were raised for the punishment of those who had fired on the people, and who were alleged to be prepared for a fresh attack as soon as the enemy should draw neai'er. These were alternatively styled the conspirators of the 10th August, and the traitors. The military commission, appointed on the 11th to try the Swiss, was deemed msufficient, because its powers were restricted to the prosecution of those military offenders. The criminal tribunal of the Seine seemed fettered by too tedious formalities; and besides, all authorities anterior to the 10th of August were looked upon with suspicion. The com- mune, therefore, demanded, on the 13th, the erection of a special tribunal to try the crimes of the lOth August, which should have sufficient powers to grasp aU who were styled the traitors. The assembly referred the petition to its committee of twelve, appointed since the month of July for the jim-pose of devising and submitting measures of safety. On the 14th, a fresh deputation from the commune appeared before the legislative body, in order to de- mand the decree relative to the extraordinary tribunal, declaring that, if it were not already passed, it was instructed to wait imtil that form was gone through. The deputy Gaston addressed some severe observa- tions to the deputation, and it withdrew. The assem- bly persisted in refusing the creation of an extraordi- nary tribunal, and contented itself with authorising the established tribunals to take cognisance of the crimes of the lOth August. A violent uproar broke out through Paris when intelligence of this resolution was disseminated. The section of the Quinze-Vingts appeared before the council-general of the commune, and annomiced that the tocsin would be rung in the Faubourg Saint- Antoine, imless the decree as solicited were imme- diately passed. Tlie council-general thereupon dis- patched a fresh deputation, at the head of which was Robespierre. He spoke in the name of the munici- pality, and made the most insolent remonstrances to the deputies. " The tranquillity of the people," said he to them, " depends on the punishment of the cri- minals, and yet you have done nothing to smite them. Your decree is insufficient. It fails to explain the nature and extent of the crimes to be punished, for it speaks only of the crimes of the lOth August, whereas the crimes of the enemies of the revolution extend far beyond the 10th August and the walls of Paris. Under such a phrase, the traitor Lafayette woidd escape the vengeance of the law ! As to the form of the trii)unal, tlie people can no longer tolerate that which you have continued to it. The double degree of jurisdiction causes interminable delays, and besides, all the old authorities are suspected ; we must have new ones ; it is essential that the tribunal asked for should be formed by deputies chosen in the sections, anil shoidd have the power of judging the culpable, supremely, and without appeal." This imperious remonstrance was aggravated by the supercilious tone of Robespierre. The assembly replied to the people of Paris by an address, in which it repudiated the idea of an extraordinary commission or star-chamber (chamhre ar-dnitc), as unworthy of liberty, and fit only for despotism. These reasonable observations produced no effect ; the irritation only became the greater. Throughout all Paris nothing was spoken of but somiding the tocsin ; and the following day, a representative of the HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 166 commune, presenting himself at the bar, said to the assembly, " As a citizen, as a magistrate of the people, I come to aimomice to you that this very night the tocsin will ring, and the drums call to arms, at mid- niglit. The people are weary of not being avenged. Tremble lest they take justice into their own hands. — 1 demand," cried the audacious petitioner, in conclu- sion, " that, without stirring, you decree that a citizen shall be named by each section to form a criminal tribunal." This midisguised mandate aroused the assembly, and particularly the deputies Choudieu and Thuriot, who vehemently reprimanded the envoy of the com- mmie. However, a debate commenced on the propo- sition of the commune, and being powerfully supported by the more violent members of the assembl}^ it was fintdly adopted and converted into a decree. An elec- toral body was thereby appointed to meet, in order to elect the members of an extraordinary tribmial, to be charged with the trial of tlie crimes coimnitted during the era of the 10th August, and other crimes thereunto relative and appurtenant. This tribunal, divided mto two sections, was to judge in tlie last resort, and with- out appeal. Such was the first formation of the revo- lutionary tribunal, and the first great impetus given by the spirit of vengeance to the forms of justice. It was called the tribunal of the 17th August. The effect produced on the armies by the last revo- lution, and the manner in wliich they had received the decrees of the 10th, were still subjects of doubt at Paris. These were points of the utmost importance, on wliich, indeed, the fate of the last revolution mainly depended. The frontier continued distributed amongst tliree armies, called respectively, of the north, of the centre, and of the south. Luckner commanded the first, Lafayette the second, and Montesquiou the third. Since the unfortunate affairs of ]\Ions and Tournay, Luckner, stimulated by Dmnouriez, had again essayed the offensive towards the Low Countries ; but he had been obliged to retreat, and on evacuatmg Courtray he had biu-nt the faubourgs, which act was made a serious ground of accusation against the mini- stry inunediately previous to the king's suspension. Since then, the armies had remained in the most com- plete inaction, l.ying in intrenched camps, and confining themselves to sUght sku'mishes. Dumom'iez, on quit- ting the ministry, had gone as lieutenant-general to Luckner, and had met with an unfavouraljle reception from the army, in which the spirit of the Lafayette party predominated. Luckner, wholly subject at that period to the same influence, dismissed Uumouriez to one of the intrenched camps, that of Alaulde, and left him there ■vvitli a small body of troops, to look after the defences and employ himself in forays. Lafayette wishing, on account of the dangers which threatened tlie king, to be nearer Paris, was anxious to have the command of the north. He was unwill- ing, however, to qiiit his troops, by -nhom he was greatly beloved, and he arranged Avith Luckner to change positions, each with his own division ; tliat is to say, both of them were to decamp, the one marcli- ing to the north and the other to the centre. This displacement of the armies in presence of an enemy might have been attended with danger, if the war liad not fortmiately been completely inactive. Luckner liad consequently repaired to ]\Ietz, and Lafayette to Sedan. During tliis cross movement, Limiouriez, being ordered to follow tlie army of Luckner, to which he belonged, with liis small corps, suddenly stopped in front of the enemy, wlio liad made a feint to attack liiin, and he was compelled to remain in his camp, under fear of opening Flaiulers to the Luke of Saxe-Teschen. He called togetlier the other generals who occupied separate camps near him, communicated with DiUon, m'Iio had arrived wi(h a portion of La- fayette's army, and demanded a council of war at Va- lenciennes, to justify, on the groimd of necessity, his disobedience to the orders of Luckner. In the mean time, Luckner had reached Metz, and Lafi^yette Sedan; and if the events of the 10th August had not oppor- tunely happened, Dumonriez, in all probability, would have undergone arrest and military judgment for his refusal to march for^vard. Such was the position of the armies, when intell"- gence of the overthrow of the throne was brought. (Jne of the first cares of the Legislative Assembly had been, as we have seen, to depute three commissioners to the armies, bearing its deci'ees, and invested with authority to administer the new oath to the troops. The three commissioners, upon their arrival at Sedan, were received by the municii)ality, Avhich held an order from Lafayette for their arrest. The mayor interro- gated them upon the scenes of the 10th August, ex- acted a minute recital of all the events, and declared, accordmg to secret instructions from Lafayette, that the Legislative Assembly was evidently no longer free, since it had pronounced the suspension of the king; that its commissioners were merely the emissaries of a factious band ; and that they must be detained in the name of the constitution. They were, in fact, imprisoned ; and Lafayette, in order to shield those who had simply executed his orders, took the act on his OAvn head. Immediately subsequent to this pro- ceeding, he administered to his army a renewed oath of fidelity to the law and the king, and issued a command that it should be repeated by aU the divisions subject to his authority. He reckoned upon seventy-five de- partments, wliich had adhered to his letter of the 16th Jmie ; and he purposed to attempt a movement in op- position to that of the 10th August. Dillon, who was at Valenciennes under the orders of Lafayette, and held a superior command to Diunouriez, obeyed his general-in-chief, administered the oath of fidelity to the law and the king, and enjoined Dumom'iez to do the same in his camp at IMaulde. Dumonriez, judg- ing more sagaciously of the future, and, furthermore, irritated against the Feuillants, under whose sway he now found himself, seized the opportimity to oppose them, and at the same time gain the favour of the new government, by repudiating the oath both for himself and liis ti"oops. On the 17th, the very day on which the extraor- dinary criminal tribunal was so tumultuously esta- blished, a letter arrived at Paris, commmiicating the intelligence that the commissioners sent to the army of Lafayette had been arrested by his orders, and that the legislative authority was set at defiance. This information excited irritation rather than alarm, and the exclamations against Lafayette arose louder than ever. His impeachment was insisted upon, and the assembly reproaciied in no gentle terms for not having decreed it earlier. A condemnatory resolution was instantly passed against the department of the Ardemies ; fresh commissioners were dispatched, with the same powers as their predecessors, and addition- ally commissioned to enlarge the prisoners. Other deputies were likewise sent to the army of Dillon. Lastly, on the morning of the 19th, the assembly de- claied Lafayette a traitor to the country, and pro- nounced against him a decree of impeachment. The crisis was monientoiis, for if this resistance were not overcome, the new revolution would be utterly abortive. France, distracted between the re- publicans in the interior and the constitutionalists in the army, would be divided in front of the enemy, and lie exposed both to invasion and a fearful reai'tioiu I^afayette natiu-ally looked with disgust upon the re- volution of the loth August, involving as it did the abolition of the constitution of 1791, the accomiilihh- ment of all the aristocratic prophecies, and the justi- fication of all the reproaches which the court had been wont to fulminate against liberty. It was im])ossiMe for him to see in this victory of democracy any thing but a liloody anarchy and an endless confusion.' To us, this confusion has had its term, and the soil at least been defended against the enemy ; but to Lalayette the il i(J6 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. fiiture was unknown and portentous, the defence of the territory seemed scarcely practicable amidst poli- tical convulsions, and he nmst have felt an irresistible desire to oppose the threatened chaos, by taking a hostile position as well aizainst mternal as extcrnid foes. But his situation was one of g^reat ditficulty, and such as no mortal talents could probaltly have surmounteil. Ilis army was devoted to him — true; but armies have no individual will, and can have none but such as is conununicated to them by superior authority. When a revolution explodes with the violence" of 1789, then, blindly hiuried away, they desert from the ancient authority, lx.'causc the uew impidse is irresistible : but at present circumstances were different. Proscribed and degraded by a decree, Lafayette was quite iiicapalile of rousing his troops against the authority of the interior by his mere mili- tary popularity, and, upon an irapidse derived from liimself alone, of successfully combating the revolu- tionary stimulus of the metropolis. Placed likewise between two enemies, and uncertain as to his course of duty, he could not but hesitate. The assembly, on the contrary, hesitated not an instant, but sent forth decree upon decree, and, supporting them bv energetic commissioners, was sure to gain the ascendant over the irresolution of the general, and to decide the army. In fact, the troops of Lafayette successively swerved, and manifested an intention of abandoning him. The civil authorities, also, j'ieided to intimidation, and sur- rendered to the new commissioners. The example of Uumouriez, who declared for the revolution of the 10th August, was oid3- required to give the concluding blow ; and the malecontent general remained alone with his staff, which was composed of Feuillants or constitu- tional officers. BouJUe, whose energy is above all question, and Dumouriez, whose great talents none can contest, were unable to act otherwise at different periods, and found themselves compelled to take flight. Lafayette was not destined to be more happy. "Writing to the various civil authorities which had seconded him in his resistance, he took upon himself the responsibility of the orders given against the commissioners of the assembly, and quitted his camp on the 20th August, witli a few officers, his friends and companions in arms and sentiments. Bureau de Puzy, Latoiu--iIau- bourg, and Lameth, accompanied him. They aban- doned the camp, carrying with them but one mouth's pay, and followed by a few domestics. Lafayette left every thing in order in liis army, and took care to make the necessary dispositions for resisting the enemy, in case of an attack. He sent back some troopers who escorted him, determined not to rob France of a single arm which might be raised in her defence ; and on the 2 1 st, he took with his friends the route to the Low Countries. Having reached the Austrian advanced posts, after a ride which had ex- hausted their horses, these first emigrants of liberty were arrested, contrary to the laws of nations, and treated as prisoners of war. Great was the joy when the name of Lafayette echoed in the camp of the coa- lition, and it became known that he was a captive in the hands of the aristocratic league. The opportunity of exiUting over one of the earliest friends of tlie revo- lution, and of charging upon the revolution itself the persecution of its first authors — to see verified all the excesses that malice had predicted — were gratifications indeed ; and less would have sufficed to spread uni- versal satisfaction amongst the European aristocracy. Lafayette claimed for himself and liis friends the liberty which was their undoubted right; but his ap- peals were in vain. It was offered him on condition of a recantation, not of all his opinions, but of one only — that relative to the abolition of nobilit}'. He refused it on such terms, and threatened, if his words were falsely reported, to give the contradiction before a public officer. He received irons, therefore, as the reward of his oonstaucy ; and even when he was led to believe liberty stifled in Eiu"ope and in France, his mind was calm and sedate, and he never ceased to regard it as the most precious of blessmgs. He still asserted its sacred cause, both with the oppressors who immured him in a dungeon, and with his old associates who had remained m France. " Still love liberty," he wrote to the latter, " in spite of its storms, and serve your country." If we compare his defection with that of BouiUo, abandoning his country to re-enter it with liostile sovereigns, or with that of Dumouriez, quar- relling with the convention, mider which he had served, not from any honest conviction, but from personal pique, we shall render justice to the man who forsook France only when the truth in which he put his faith was proscribed within it, and who submitted neitlier to execrate nor abjiu-e it in foreign armies, but, on the contrary, professed and maintained it even amidst the horrors of a prison. Let us not Ijlanie Dimiouriez, however, too harshly for we shall soon have reason to estimate liis memo- rable services. This able and flexible man had per- fectly comprehended the rising power. After ha\nng rendered himself almost independent by his refusal to obey Luckner, and to qiut t'le camp at ]\huUde, after having rejected the oath enjoined by Dillon, he was now recompensed for his discernment by the command- in-chief of the armies of the north and centre. Dillon, brave, impetuous, but shortsighted, was at first de- prived of his command for having obeyed Lafayette ; but he was reinstated through the credit of Dumoiu-iez, who, keeping a steadfast eye on his idtimate object, and anxious to alienate in his progress as few men as possible, warmly defended him to the commissioners of the assembly. Dumoiu"iez then found himself general-in-chief along the whole frontier from Metz to Dunkirk. Luckner was at ]\Ietz with his army, formerly that cf the north. Influenced at first b}' Lafayette, he had given tokens of a resistance to tlie 10th August ; but, speedily yielduig to his army and the commissioners of the assembly, he succumbed to the decrees, and, after a fresh shower of tears, gave in to the new impulse imparted to him. The 10th August and the advanced season were motives for deciding the coalition at length to push the war with activity. The dispositions of the Em-o- pean powers were not changed with regard to France. England, HoUand, Denmark, and Switzerland, still promised a strict neutralitj'. Sweden, since the death of Gusta-inis, had sincerely returned to a like policy. The Italian states were inimical enough, but fortu- nately pretty powerless. Spain did not yet declare herself, and continued distracted by conflicting in- trigues. There remained as decided enemies, Ilussia and the two principal courts of Germany. But Russia stiU adliered to mere demonstrations of her high dis- ]ileasure, and contented herself with dismissing the French ambassador. Prussia and Austria alone marched armies to the frontiers of France. Amongst the other German states, only the three ecclesiastical electors and the landgraves of tlie two Hesses had taken an active part in the coalition ; the remainder were waiting to be constrained to that course. In this state of things, 138,000 men, perfectly orga- nised and disciplined, menaced France, which coidd oppose to them at the utmost but 120,000, scattered along an immense frontier, forming at no point a suf- ficient mass, deprived of their officers, without confi- dence cither in themselves or their generals, and hitherto invariably worsted in the war of posts they had kept up. The plan of the coalition was to over- power France at once, by penetrating through the Ardennes and marching by Chalons upon Paris. The two sovereigns of Prussia and Austria had repaired in person to ISIaj^ence. SLxty thousand Pnssians, full of the traditions and the glory of Frederick, advanced in a single column upon the French centre, marching by Luxumbourg upon Longwy. Twenty thousand Austrians, commanded by General Clairfayt, supported HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 167 them on the right by the occupation of iStenay. Six- teen thousand Austrians, imder the orders of the Prince of Hohenlohe-Kirchberg, and ten thousand Hessians, flanked the left of the I'russians. Tlie Duke of Saxe-Teschen occupied the Low Countries, and threatened their fortresses. Tlie Prince of Conde, with six thousand French emigrants, had proceeded towards Philips))oiu-g. Several other corps of emi- grants were distributed in the various Prussian and Austrian armies. The foreign courts, imwilling to allow the emigrants, by a general union, to acquire too considei'able an influence, had designed at flrst to in- corporate them in the German regiments, and after- wards consented to let them exist as distinct corps, but with the precaution of dividing them amongst the armies of the coalition. These corps were chiefly com- posed of officers M'ho had submitted to serve as private soldiers ; they constituted a brilliant cavalry, but better suited to display a chivalric valour on a day of peril than to sustain the fatigues of a long campaign. The French armies were disposed in the Avorst possible manner for resisting such a concentration of strength. Three generals, Beurnonville, Moreton, and Duval, commanded thirty thousand men in three sepa- rate camps, at ]Maidde, INIaubeuge, and Lille. These comprised the whole resources of France on the fron- tier towards the north and the Low Coimtries. The army of Lafayette, disorganised by the departure of its general, and distracted by the gi'eatest variety of sentiments, Avas encamped at Sedan, to the amount of twenty-three thousand men. Dumouriez was on the point of assmning the command of it. The army of Luckner, composed of twenty thousand men, occupied Metz, and had, like all the others, just received a new general, in the person of Kellermann. The assembly, though discontented with Luckner, had abstamed nevertheless from dismissing hini altogether. In trans- ferring his command to Kellermann, it had j^reserved to him, under the title of generalissimo, the care of organisuig the new army of reserve, and the pm'ely honorary charge of advising the generals. Lastly, there were Custine, who, with fifteen thousand men, occupied Landau ; and Biron, who, stationed in Alsace with thirty thousand men, was too far removed from the principal theatre of the war to influence the flxte of the campaign. The only two collections of troops posted on the line of march of the grand army of the coalition, were the twenty-three thousand men f(3rsaken by Lafayette, and the twenty thousand of Kellermann, ranged around Metz. If the grand army of invasion, adapting its movements to its main design, had marched rapicUy on Sedan, whilst the troops of Lafayette, deprived of a general, a prey to disorder, and, not being yet joined by Dumouriez, without unity or direction, the princi- pal defensive army had been forced, the Ardennes laid open, and the other generals obliged to retrograde with precipitation to effl'ct a junction behind the Marne. It is possible they might not have liad time to come from Lille and Metz to Chalons and Pheinis ; then Paris lj"ins uncovered, there would have remained to the new government only the forlorn jiroject of a camp under Paris or flight beyond tlie Loire. But if France defended herself with all the disorder of a revolutionary convulsion, the foreign powers attacked witli all t!ie want of concert and divergent views of a coalition. Tlie King of Prussia, intoxicati'd with the idea of an easy conquest, flattered and de- ceived by the emigrants, who depicted tlie invasion to him as a sinijile mililun/ jiroiiiciKidfi, was eager for the most daring eiiterjirise. ]hit be had too prudent a counsellor by his side in the Duke of T5rmiswick, for his presumption to have even the liai>])y coiise<|uences of audacity and i)roni])titude. The J)uke of Bruns- wick, perceiving the season far advanced, tlie country very differently attected from what the emigrants had represented, and furthermore somewliat correctly ap- preciatmg the revolutionary energy by the insurrectii)n of the 10th August, concluded that the most expedient course was to make sure of a solid base of oneratious on the Moselle, by laying siege to Metz and Thionville, and to defer until the following season the renewal of hostilities, with all the advantages of preceding con- quests. This contest between the precipitation of the sovereign and the prudence of the general, joiued to the tardiness of the Austrians, who appeared under the command of the Prince of Holicnlohe to the number of l)ut eighteen thousand men instead of fifty thou- sand, prevented any decisive movement. However, the Prussian army continued to advance towards the centre, and came on tlie 20th before Longvvy, one of the fortresses nearest the Ime of frontier. Dumouriez, who had alwa3-s believed that an inva- sion of the Low Comitries would cause a revolution to break out, and that such a diversion would preserve France from the inroads of Germany, had made every preparation to push forward, the very day he received his commission of general-in-chief of the two armies. He was on the point of acting on the oflensive against the Prmce of Saxe-Teschen, when Westermann, who had e\micedsuch energy on the 10th August, and was now one of the comuussioners to the army of Lafay- ette, reached him with information of what was pass- ing on the theatre of the grand invasion. On the 22d, Longwy had opened its gates to the Prussians, after a bombardment of a few hours. The disordered state of the garrison and the imbecility of the com- mandant, were the causes of its speedy surrender. Elated with this conquest, and the capti\ity of Lafay- ette, the Prussians were more than ever disposed to the plan of a prompt invasion. The army of Lafay- ette was lost, imless tlie new general came to encoiu-age it by his presence, and to direct its movements in a beneficial manner. Such was the substance of Wester- manu's communication. Dumouriez forthwith abandoned his favourite pro- ject, and on the 25th or the 2Gth repaired to Sedan, where his first appearance provoked amongst the troops nnu-murs and reproaches. He was the enemy of Lafayette, whom they still regarded with aflection. On him, likewise, was laid the odium of this unfortu- nate war, since it was under his ministry it had been declared ; and furthermore, he was considered as a man of the pen rather than of the sword. Such objections were industriously circulated in the cam]), and fre- quently reached the ears of the general. Dumouriez was not at all disconcerted. He began by cheeruig the courage of his troops, affecting himself a firm and tranquil demeanom'; and he was not long in making them feel the influence of a more vigorous conunand. But the position of twenty-three thousand men, iu deplorable disorganisation, was nearly (Usjierate thus in presence of eighty thousand, jierfectly disciiiliued. The Prussians, after taking Longwy, had blockaded Thionville, and were advancing on Verdun, whicliwas nmch less capable of resistance than the fortress of Longwy. The generals, called together by Dumouriez, were all of o])iiiiou that the I'russians should not he waited for at Sedan, but that a ra])id retreat should be made behind tlie Marne, and intrenclunents there thrown up as well as eircuinstaucis would ])ermit, in order to await tlie junction of the other armies, and tlius cover the caiiital, which only forty leagues seiiarated from the enemy. They all lield that if a deftat were sus- tained iu attempting to opjuise the invasion, tlie rout would be complete; the army, utterly disorganised, would not rally between Sedan and I'aris itself; an(i the Prussinns niarcli tliitlier directly, and at a con- queror's jiace. Such was tlie military situation of France, and the-opiuion entertained of it by her gene- rals. The idea fonned in Paris njion the sifl)ject was not more cheerful, and the sense of danger aggravated tho exasperation of the juiblic mind. And yet that im- mense nietropohs, which had never seen an enemy 168 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. witliin its precincts, and estimated its power in pro- portion to its extent and population, was led with uiiBculty to imagine the possibility of its forcible oc- cupation : thus it tkeadcd the military danj^ers wliich were not perceived, and were still at a distance from it, infinitely less than the danger of a reaction on the part of the royalists, for the moment suppressed Whilst on the frontier the generals saw only the Prus- sians, in the interior the people beheld only aristocrats silently conspiring for the destruction of liberty. The people said amongst themselves that the king indeed Wiis a prisoner, but that his party did not the less exist tmd conspire, as Ix-'fore the 10th August, to open I'aris to the stranger. They pictured to them- selves all the large mansions in the capital filled with armed bands, ready to issue forth on the first signal, to release Louis XVI., to seize upon all authority, and to deliver France a defenceless prey to the vengeance of emigrants and foreigners. This understanding be- tween the internal and the external enemy was per- petually present to the minds of all. " iVe 7nust," said they, "be delivered from traitors ;" and the fright- ful idea was already generated of slaughtering the vanquished — an idea with the great majority a mere impulse of the imagination, but which, A\ith certain men, more bloodthirst}', more entliusiastic, or moi'e eager for action, might resolve itself into a real and deliberate plan. We have already learnt that the question of aveng- ing the people for the injm'ies received during the course of the lOtli August had heen canvassed, and that a warm altercation had ai'isen between the as- sembly and the commime on the subject of the revo- lutionary tribunal. This trilnmal, which had ah-eady consigned to death Dangi-emont and the mifortunate Laporte, the iutendant of the civil list, was not suffi- ciently speedy in its action to satisfy a furious and frantic populace, which beheld enemies in every quar- ter. It needed prompter forms to pmiish the traitors, and it especially clamoured for judgment on the pri- soners transferred to the high coiirt of Orleans. Those, for the most pai't, were ministers and distinguished functionaries, impeached for high crimes and misde- meanors. Delessart, the former minister of foreign affairs, was of the number. Cries were raised on all sides against the slo\vness of the processes ; the trans- ference of the prisoners to Paris was insisted upon, and their mstant condemnation bj^ the tribunal of the 17th August. The assembly, being petitioned on this subject, or rather summoned to yield to the general wish and pass at once a decree of transference, had made a com-ageous resistance. Tlie high national court, it said, was a constitutional establishment, Avhich it had no power to alter, inasmuch as it did not possess constituent functions, and because it was the right of every accused to be tried only according to existing laws. This question had once more stimulated crowds of petitioners; and the assembly had to resist the united clamours of a fm-ious minority, of the commune, and of the outrageous sections. It contented itself, however, witla rendering certain forms of process more expeditious, decreeing, at the same time, that the prisoners before the high court should remain at Or- leans, and not be withdra^vn from the jurisdiction secured to them by the constitution. Thus two opinions were fonned — the one in favour of sparing the vanquished, without, however, display- ing less energy against the foreign enemy ; and the other in fiivour of a preliminary extermination of secret foes before advancing against the armed enemies moving towards Paris. This latter was less an opi- nion than a blind and ferocious sentiment, compounded of terror and rage, and calculated to grow more in- tense with the increase of danger. The Parisians were excited to greater fnrv from the consciousness of their cit}', the focus of all'the insur- rections, and the ultimate object of the foreign aggres- sion, being exposed to the wluile brunt of danger. They accused the assembly, composed as it was of deputies from the departments, of a desire to retreat into the provinces. The Girondists especially, who belonged for the most part to the southern districts of the king- dom, and formed that moderate majority so odious to the commune, were accused of a design to sacrifice Paris from hatred for the capital. Tliey thus attri- buted to them sentiments sufficiently natural, and such as the Parisians might weU imagine they had provoked; but the deputies in qtiestion loved their comitry and their cause too sincerely to dream of abandoning Paris. It is true, tlicy had always held that if the nortli were lost they sliould faU back on the south ; and it is also true, that at this very mo- ment, some amongst them considered it prudent to transport the seat of govermuent beyond the Loire ; but an mtention to sacrifice a hateful city, and trans fer the govermnent to a locality Avhere they would be masters, never entered their minds. They had too much elevation of sentiment, were as yet too power- ful, and relied too much on the approaching meeting of the convention, to think thus early of detaching themselves from Paris. Accusations, therefore, were made at once against their indulgence towards traitors, and their indiffe- rence towards the interests of the capital. Exposed to a constant struggle with the most violent men, they could scarcely bear up against the activity and energy of their adversaries, even though they possessed the advantages of reason and numbers, lii the executive coimcil they were five to one ; for besides the three ministers, Claviere, Servan, and Roland, selected from their very bosom, two others, !Monge and Lebrun, were likewise men of their choosmg. But the one Danton, who, without being their personal enemy, shared neither in their moderation nor in their opinions — the single Danton, we repeat, ruled the council, and de- stroyed aU their influence. Whilst Claviere was la- bouring to scrape together some financial resources, Servan bustling to procure reinforcements for the generals, and Roland distributing sagacious missives, with a view to instruct the provincial public, to direct the local authorities, to prevent their abuses of power, and check violence of every description, Danton was engaged in filling the offices of administration with his creatures. He dispatched on all missions his faith- fid Cordeliers, prociu-ing by such means nmnerous supporters for himself, and enabluig his friends to par- take of the profits of the revolution. Con^^ncing or intimidating his colleagues, he experienced no obstacle but in the rigid inflexibiUty of Roland, who frequently repudiated the measures or the men he proposed. Danton was irritated at this opposition, without, how- ever, coming to any open rupture with Roland ; and he strove with the gi'eater pertinacity to carry as many nominations and decisions as possible. Danton, whose domination was centred in Paris, naturally desired its preservation, and was resolute in opposing any scheme for transferring the government beyond the Loire. Endowed with a wonderfid auda- city of mind, the man to proclaim the insurrection on the eve of the 10th August, when all besides drooped and hesitated, was not likely to recoil, or uphold any doctrine but the necessity of perisliing in the ruins of the capital. Master of the coimcil, closely allied with JIarat and the surveillance committee of the commune, listened to in all the clubs, and living in the midst of the multitude as in an element he agitated at pleasure, Danton was the most powerful man in Paris ; and this power, based on a natural violence of disposition, which brought him in imison with the passions of the people, boded little forbearance to the vanquished. In his revolutionary ardour, Danton inclined to all the ideas of vengeance whicli were so hateful to the Gir- ondists. He was the chief of that Parisian party whose motto was, "We will not retreat; we will perish in the capital and beneath its ruins ; but our enemies shall perish before us'" Tims the minds of HISTOKY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 169 men were trained to the contemplation of atrocious projects, and horrible scenes were destined to be the dismal consequence. On the 2Gth, a rumour of the f;dl of Longwy spread with rapidity, and caused a general agitation in Paris. During the whole day its probabihty was disputed ; but at lengtli it was placed beyond aU doubt, and it became known that the i>lace had opened its gates after a bombardment of a few hours. So great a ferment ensued, that the assembly decreed the penalty of death against whomsoever siioidd propose to surrender in a besieged fortress. On the demand of the commune, it was ordered that Paris and the contiguous departments should furnish, Avitlmi a few days, thirty thousand men armed and eipiipped. The enthusiasm which reigned rendered such a umster easy; and the numbers who enrolled themselves lessened the apprehensions of danger. It was not to be imagined at the moment, that a hmadred thousand Prussians woidd be able to prevail over several mil- lions of men determined todefend themselves. Renewed activity was manifested in forming the camiJ under Paris ; and all the women assembled m the churches to participate m prejparing the materials of encamp- ment. Dauton appeared at the conunune, and on a propo- sition submitted by him, the adoption of certain ex- treme measures was voted. It was resolved to make in all the sections a list of the indigent, and to give them a pecuniary allowance and arms. By a second resolution, the disarming and arrest of all suspected persons were ordered ; and mider that designation were included the entire list of those who had signed the petitions against the events of the 20th June and the decree for the camp below Paris. To effect this sweeping measm-e of disarming and arresting, the expedient of domiciliary visits was suggested, and forthwith organised after a mode truly frightful. The barriers were appointed to be shut during forty-eight hours, commencing on the 29th August at simset; and no permission to i>ass coidd be granted on any pretence. Guard-boats were stationed on the river, to prevent flight by that outlet. The surrounding conmiunes were charged to apprehend whomsoever should he detected in the fields or on the roads. The roll of drums was to announce the coming visits, and at that signal eveiy citizen was bound to repair to his own residence, under pain of being deemed sus- pected of assembling, if he were found at the house of another. For this reason, all the sectional assemblies, and the extraordinary tribunal itself, were to be sus- pended during those two days. Commissioners selected from the commune, accompanied by an armed force, were empowered to make the visits, to confiscate arms, and to apprehend the suspected ; that is to say, the signers of the petitions already mentioned, the non-juring priests, the citizens who should prevari- cate in their declarations, those against whom denun- ciations had been lodged, et cetera. At ten at night vehicles were to cease running, and the city was to be illuminated during all the hours of darkness. Such were the measures resolved ujion to secure the arrest of (as they were called) the bad citizens secreted since the lOth Angmt. The visits were commenced on the evening of tiie 29th, and one party, abandoned to the mercy of another, was exjjosed to be cast whole- sale into ])rison. All who had belonged to the court, either by holding offices, or by rank, or I)y attendance at the palace; all who had declared for it on occa- sion of the various royalist movements; all who had dastardly enemies capable of seeking vengeance by denunciation, were thrown into jmson, to the numl)cr of twelve or fifteen thousand persons. It was the siu'- veillance committee of tlie comnnine that presided over these arrests, and witnessed their execution. Those whom it designated for a])])rehension were first conducted from tlieir residences to the connnittce of their section, and thence to the committee of the com- mune. There they were briefly questioned as to tlieir opinions, and the acts which demonstrated their greater or less degree of energj\ Frequently a single member of the committee interrogated them, whilst the other members, exhausted by a vigil of several days, were asleep on the chairs and tables. The mch- viduals arrested were detained at the town-hall in the first instance, and subsequently distributed into the prisons where any room was yet to be found. In them were now incarcerated representatives of all the opi- nions that had successively reigned up till the loth August, inheritors of distinctions levelled to the dust, and simple tradesmen, already deemed equally aristo- cratic with dukes and jDrinces. Consternation prevailed throughout Paris. The repubhcans felt themselves menaced by the Prussian armies ; and the roj'alists were menaced by the repub- hcans. The coumhttee of general defence, appointed by the assembly to advise on measures for resisting the enemas met on the 30th, and called to its aid the executive council, in order to hold a solemn delibera- tion on the means of pubUc safety. The meeting was numerous ; for to the actual members of the com- mittee were added a great many deputies, who had desired to attend that sitting. Various opinions were expressed. The mmister Servan stated he had no confidence in the armies, and that he held it impossible for Dumouriez, A\'ith the twenty-three thousand men Lafayette had left him, to stop the Prussians. He saw no position between them and Paris sufficiently strong to take up and check their march. Every one agreed with him on this point ; and after having resolved to concentrate the whole population mider the Avails of Paris, there to sustain the combat of despair, the retreat to Saumur in the last extremity was spoken of, as a plan for interposing between the enemy and the authorities invested with the national sovereignty a fresh interval and fresh obstacles. Vergniaud and Guadet opposed the idea of quitting Paris. After them, Danton spoke : — " It is proposed to you," said lie, " to quit Paris. You are not ignorant that, in the opinion of oiu" ene- mies, Paris represents France, and that to yield them this position is to abandon the revolution. To retreat is to ruin ourselves. We nmst, therefore, mauitain ourselves here at all hazards, and save ourselves by audacity. Amongst the measures proposed, none has seemed to me effective. We ought not to dissemble the situation in Avhicli the 10th August has placed us. It has divided us into republicans and royahsts; the first scanty, the latter abundant, in numbers. In this state of weakness, we republicans are exposed to two fires — that of the enemy situated without, and that of the royalists situated within. There is a roy;il directory which sits secretly at Paris, and corresponds with the Prussian army. To tell you where it meets, who are its members, is out of the jiower of the mini- sters. But in order to disconcert it, and to prevent its disastrous correspondence with the enemy, it is 7iecessury, it is indispensable, to strike terror into tlie royalists !" At these words, accompanied by a gesture signifi- cant of extermination, hcn-ror was depicted on every countenance. "It is indispensable, I tell you," re- sinned Danton, " to strike terror into the royalists. It is in Paris, above all things, it behoves you to main- tain yourselves; and it is not by exiiausting your strcngtli in uncertain combats that you will succeed." A sudden stupor spread over the council. Not a word of rejoinder was given to Danton ; and all moved away Avithout any precise comprehension — without ventiu-- ing, indeevy. Danton caused it to be immediately decreed by the commune that on the following day, the 2d of September, the muster- drinns should be beat, the tocsin sounded, the alarm- gnus fired ; and tluit all the disposaljle citizens should assemble in arms on the Champ de iSIars, there bivouac during the rest of the day, and depart the next morn- ing to plant themselves under the walls of Verdun. From such portentous stimulants it was evident that something more than a general levy was contemplated. Relatives ran in haste, and used every effort to obtain the enlargement of prisoners dear to them. Manuel, the jirocurator-syndic, being entreated by a generous female, set at liberty, it is said, two captives of the family of Latremouille. Another woman, JSIadame Fausse-Lendry, obstinately desiring to folloAv her uncle, the Abbe de Rastignac, into captivity, was answered by Sergent in these words, " You are very imprudent ; the prisons are riot safe." The following day, the 2d September, was a Sunday, and the prevailing idleness augmented the popular fei'ment. Nmnerous groups were gathered at all points, and it was loudly proclaimed that the enemy might be at Paris in three days. The commune informed the assembly of the measures it had taken to raise a general levy of the citizens. Vergniaud, giving way to a patriotic enthusiasm, instantly mounted the tri- bune, congratulated the Parisians on their courage, and applauded them for converting the barren zeal of speech into the more active and beneficial zeal of martial heroism. "It appears," said he, "that the plan of the enemy is to march straight upon the capi- tal, leaving the fortifications behind him. So be it ! — such a project Avill be oiu- salvation and his ruin. Our armies, too weak to resist him, will be at least strong enough to harass him in the rear ; and when he arrives, followed by our battalions, he will find himself in pre- sence of the Parisian army, drawn up in battle array under the walls of the capital ; and then, enveloped on all sides, he will be exterminated by the land he has profaned. But amidst these flattering hopes, there is one danger which must not be chssembled, and it is that of panics. Our enemies count upon them, lavish gold to produce them ; and you are aware there are men kneaded of so slimy a mud, that they decompose at the slightest shock of danger. I wish this race without soids, but with the hmnan form, covdd be dis- tinguished, all its members gathered into one town — Longwy, for example — to be called the to^ii of pol- troons; and there, the objects of contumely, they could no longer diflFuse alann amongst their fellow-citizens, no longer lead them to take dwarfs for giants, or the dust flying before a company of Hulans for embattled battalions ! Parisians ! it is now you are called upon to display a grand energy. Why are the intrenchments of the camp not more advanced ? Where are the spades and mattocks which reared the altar of the federation and levelled the Champ de Mars ? You have manifested an exemplary ardour for festivals; you Avill doubtless not evince less for battles. You have celebrated and sung the songs of liberty ; now you must defend it I We have no longer mere kings of brass to cast down, but kings living, and armed with all their power. I therefore move that the national assembly gives the first example, and sends twelve commissioners, not to make exliortations, but to labour and hew with their own hands, in the face of all the citizens." This proposition was adopted with the greatest enthusiasm. Danton followed Vergniaud; he expa- tiated upon the measures already adopted, and pro- posed additional ones. " One part of the people," said he, " is about to depart for the frontiers, another to dig intrenchments, and a third with pikes will defend the interior of our toviis. But this is not enough; we nnist dispatch into all quarters commissioners and couriers to bring the whole of France into an imitation of Paris- we must jiass a decree by which every citizen HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 171 shall be obliged, under penalty of death, to serve in person or to furnish his arms." He added, in conclu- sion : " The giuis you will shortly hear are not the giins of alarm — they are to sound the charge ujion the enemies of the country. To vanquish them, to over- whelm them, what is needed? Boldness! still boldness, for ever boldness!'" The words and gestures of the minister produced a profomid sensation amongst all present. His sugges- tion was acceded to, and a decree passed in accordance ; he then left and repaired to the committee of surveil- lance. All the authorities, all the bodies — the assembly, the commune, the sections, the clubs — were sittuig. The ministers, assembled at the office of the admiralty, were waiting for Danton to hold a comicil. The entire city was agitated. Profoimd terror pervaded the pri- sons. At the Temple, the royal family, which every connnotion was calculated to alarm more than any other prisoners, uaquired with great anxiety the cause of so niiich agitation. In the various prisons, the jailors were themselves dismayed. The governor of the Abbey had early in the morning sent away his wife and children. Dinner had been served to tlie prisoners two hours before the accustomed time, and aU the knives removed from their napkins. Struck with these cuTiimstances, they m-gently questioned their keepers, but coiild elicit no reply. At length, as the clocks tolled two, the drums began to beat, the tocsm was rmig, and the alarm -gvms resounded through the capital. Groups of citizens repaired to the Champ de Mars ; others surrounded the commune and the assembly, and blocked up the pubUc places. At the to^vn-haU were twenty-four priests, arrested for their refusal to take the oath, who were intended to be transferred from the room of provisional deten- tion to the dungeons of the Abbey. Either intcntion- j ally or otherwise, this moment was cliosen for tlieir j removal. They were placed in six hackney-coaches, I escorted by Breton and Marseillese federalists, and conducted at a slow pace towards the Faubourg Saint- Germain, along the quays, the Pont Neuf, and the Rue Danphine. A mob surrounded and overwhelmed them with execrations. " These are the conspirators," said the federalists, " who are to murder our wives and children whilst we are absent on the frontiers !" These words tended still more to increase the timmlt. The doors of the vehicles were opened; the mifortunate ecclesiastics attempted to shut them, so as to shelter themselves from injurious treatment, but they were prevented, and compelled to suffer with patience the blows and curses showered upon them. At length they reached the court of tlie Abbey, where an immense crowd was already congregated. This com't led to the cells, and communicated with the room in which the committee of the section Quatre-Nations held its sittings. The first coach stopped before the door of the committee-room, and was immediately smTounded by a horde of infuriated men. MaiUard was present. The carriage-door was thrown open; the nearest of the prisoners advanced to alight and enter the com- mittee, but he was instantly pierced with a thousand daggers. The second threw himself back in the coach, but he was pulled out by main force, and slaughtered like the first. The two others met with the same fate in their turn; and tlie assassins abandoned that vehicle to attack those which followed. They arrived one after the other in the fatal court; and the last of the twenty -four priests was murdered amidst the yells of the furious populace.* At this moment hastily arrived Rillaud-Varenncs, a member of tlie communal council, and the only one amongst the organisers of these massacres who con- stantly defended them, and witnessed their perpetra- tion with intrepid cruelty. He a])peared wearing his official scarf, made his way through the blood and over * Excepting one onlj-, the Abb^ Siciird, who vraa 8;ives asserted a fact which it is essential to review. He said it ■was not the men of the 10th August who acted on the day of the 2d September ; and I, as an eyewitness, tell you it was the same men. He said there were not two hundred acting persons, and I tell you that I passed under an arch of steel formed by ten thousand sabres : I appeal to Bazire, Colon, and other deputies who were with me : between the Court of the Monks and the prison of the Abbey they were obliged to press close in order to allow us room to pass. I recognised, for my own HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 175 But if the executions spread consternation, the audacity rcqinsite to avow and recommend an imita- tion of them is a phenomenon not less surprising than the executions themselves. The committee of surveil- lance did not shrink from distributing a circular through all the conmiunes of France, which history is bound to preserve, with the seven signatures attached to it. This astounding record is as follows : — " Paris, 2d September 1792. Brothers and Friends — A detestable plot, hatched by the court, for murdering all the jwitriots of the French empire — a plot in which a great number of members of assembly are compromised, having reduced the commime of I'aris, on the 9th of last month, to the cruel necessity of using the force of the jjeople to save the nation, it neglected nothing to deserve well of the coimtrj'. After the testimonies borne to its vigilance by the national assembly itself, could it have been imagined that fresh plots were brewing in silence at the very time, and that they should burst forth precisely as the national assembly, forgetting it had just declared the commune of Paris to have saved the country, determined upon superseding it as the reward of its intense civicism ? At this intelligence, the pub- lic clamour, which arose on every side, convinced the national assembh^ of the lu^gent necessity of uniting with the people, and of restoring to the commune, by the repeal of the decree of deprivation, the power with which it had invested it. Proud of enjoying in full plenitude the national confidence, which it will endcavoiu- to merit more and more — placed in the centre of all conspiracies, and determined to perish for the public safety, it will plume part, one hundred and fifty federalists. It is impossible but that Louvet and his adherents were present at those popular execu- tions. At the same time, any one who could coolly pronounce ^uch a discourse as that of Louvet, cannot have much humanity ; 1 know that, since his speech, I would not like to sleep by his side for fear of being assassinated. I call upon Potion to declare if it be true that there were not more than two hundred men at those executions : but it is natural that intriguers should fasten on that day, respecting which France has yet much to learn. They wish to cut oft' the patriots in detail ; they are about to decree imjjeachment against Robespierre, Marat, Panton, San- terre. They will soon add to the number, Bazire, Merlin, Chabot, Montaut, even Grangeneuve, if he had not become reconciled with them. Then they will propose a decree against the whole Faubourg Saint-Antoine, against the forty-eight sections; and we shall be eight hundred thousand men decreed for impeach- ment ! They ought, however, to be pretty sure of their power, since they demand an ostracism." (SITTING OF MONDAV 5tH NOVEMBEB.) " Fabre d'Eglantine offers remarks on the day of the 2d Sep- tember. He affirms that it was the men of the Kith Augu.st who broke open the prisons of tlie Abbey, those of Orleans, and those of Versailles. He says, that, in those critical moments, he saw the same men come to the house of Danton, and evince their gratification by rubbing theu- hands ; tliat one amongst them expressed a keen desire that Jlorande should be immolated. He adds, that hesaw, in thegarden of the minister for foreign aff"airs, the minister Roland, pale, dejected, his head leaning against a tree, and demamiiLig the removal of the convention to Tours or Blois. The speaker says, further, that Danton alone showed great cnergj' of character (hiring tiiat day ; that he never despaired of the safety of the country ; that, by striking the earth with Iiis foot, he made thousands of defenders start up ; and that lie liad sufficient moderation not to abuse the s|)ccies of dictatorship with which tlie national assembly had invested him, by its decree that those wlio sliould imi)cde the ministerial ojterations should be punishcil with deatli. Fabre afterwards declares that he has received a letter from Madame Roland, in which she, the wife r)f the minister of the interior, begs him to give his aid to a parti- cular line of tactics, in order to carry some decrees in tlie con- vention. The speaker demands tliat the society order the framing of an address, which shall contain all the historical details of the events wliich ha\e occurred since the period of Lafayette's ac- quittal up till this d;iy." Itself on having done its duty only when it shall liave obtained your approbation, which is the object of all its hopes, and of which it will be assured only when all the departments have sanctioned its measures for the public safety. Professing the principles cf the most perfect equahty, and desiring no other privilege than that of being the first to moimt the breach, it will joyfully lower itself to the level of the smaDest connmme in the empire, so soon as there shall be nothing more to dread. Aware that barbarian hordes are advancing against it, the comnrane of Paris hastens to inform itsbrethren in all the departments that a part of the ferocious conspirators detained in the prisons has been put to death by the peoi)le: an act of justice which appeared to them indispensable for restraining by force of terror the legions of traitors contained M'ithin their walls, at the moment they were about to march against the enemy; and doubtless the nation, after the long scries of treasons wliich has conducted it to the edge of the abyss, will freely adopt a measure so useful and neces- sary; and all the French will say like the Parisians — ' We march to meet the enemy, b"ut we leave not behind us brigands to cut the throats of our wives and children ! ' (Signed) Duplain, Panis, Sergent, Le.vfant, Marat, Lefort, Jourdeuil, Administrators oj the Committee of Surveillance constituted at t/ie Municipality." A perusal of this document will serve to demonstrate to what a height of fanaticism tlie approach of danger had driven a vast proportion of the i)eople. But it is time to revert to the theatre of the war, where more glorious recollections are to be found. Chabot.—" Here are the facts it is important to know. On the 10th August, the people in insurrection determined to sacrifice the Swiss; at that epoch, the Krissotins did not deem them- selves the men of the 10th, for they came to implore us to have pity on them ; such x^ere the expressions of Lasource. I was a god upon that day : I saved one huntired and fifty Swiss ; I stopped by myself alone, at the door of the Feuillants, the people who wished to penetrate into the hall, to sacrifice to their vengeance those unfortunate Swiss : the Brissotins were afraid lest the massacre should extend to them. From what I had done on the 10th August, I expected on the 2d September that I should be deputed to the people ; no ! the extraordiniiry commission, with the supreme Brissot for its president, did not choose me ! Whom did it select? Dusaulx, to whom, it is true, Bazire was joined. It was not ignorant, however, what men were alone capable of influencing the people, and stopping the effusion of blood. I encountered the deputation on the way ; Bazire urged me to ac- company Iiim ; he induced me to accede. Had Dusaiilx any particular instructions ? I laiow not ; but this I know, that Dusaulx would not allow any one to speak. Amidst an assem- blage of 10,000 men, amongst whom were 150 Jlarseillese, Du- saulx mounted on a chair ; he was much confused ; he had to speak to men armed with daggers. M'hen he at length gained silence, I addressed him rapidly in these words, " If you have self-possession, you will sfo]) the effusion of blood ; tell the Parisiims it is their interest the massacre should cease, in order that the departments may not conceive appi-ehensions relative to the safety of the national convention about to assemble at Paris." Dusaulx iieard me ; but, from insincerity or the vanity of old age, he did nothing as I told him ; and yet if is AL Dusjuilx who is proclaimed as tlie only honest man in the deputation of Paris! A second fact, not less essential, is, that the massacre of the prisoners at Orleans was not perpetrated by Parisians. That massacre ought to bo esteemed the more odious, since it was liuiger after the lOHi August, and was committed by a less number of men. But the intiigucrs never si)c;ik of it ; they say not a word about it, because an enemy of Biissot perished on that occasion— the minister of foreign aflTairs, who had dismissed his proteg(5 Narbonne. If I, of myself, at the door of the Feuillants, stopped the people who wished toshiy the Swiss, how much more ought the Legislative Assembly to have prevented the effusion of blood ! If, then, any crime were committed, it must he charged ui)on the Legislative Assembly, or lather upon Brissot, who then managed it." 170 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. CUAl'TER XIII. CAMPAIGN OF THE ARGONNE. ■\^CTORY OF VAI.MY. RETREAT OF THE ALLIES. ^E have already seen that Duinouriez had held a couiieil of war at Sudan. Dillon had there delivered an ophiion iu favour of a retreat to Chalons, in order to place the Marue ia front of the French army, the passajre of whitli river he proposed to defend. The disorjianised condition of the 23,000 men left to l)u- niouriez ; tlie impossibility of tlieir resisting 80,000 Prussians, exactly disciplined and inured to war; the plan attributed to the enemy of making a rapid inva- sion without stopping before fortresses — were the rea- sons which led Dillon to believe that the French could not retard the Prussians, and that they ought to retire in all haste before them in quest of stronger positions, and thereby make amends for the weakness and inef- ficient state of tlieir forces. The council was so struck with these reasons, that it unanimously adhered to Dillon's opinion, and Dumouriez, with whom the de- cision lay as general-iu-chief, replied that he would take time to consider. It was on the evening of the 28th August that a resolution was taken wluch saved France. Several have laid claim to the honour of it, but it is quite clear that it belongs to Dumouriez. At all events, the execution renders it exclusively his, and ought to secure him all the glory. France, as tlie reader is aware, is defended to the east by the Rliine and the Vosges, and to the north by a series of fortresses, mo- numents of the genius of Vauban, and by the Meuse, the Moselle, and various streams of water, which, in conjunction with the fortresses, present a combination of obstacles sufficient to jjrotect that frontier. The enemy had penetrated into France by the north, and directed his march between Sedan and iletz, leaving the siege of the strong places in the Low Comitries to the Duke of Saxe-Teschen, and masking INIetz and Lorraine by a body of troops. To follow up this plan, he ought to have advanced rapidly, to profit by the disorganisation of the French, strike them ^vith terror by decisive attacks, and overwhelm, in fact, tlie 23,000 men of Lafayette, before a new general had imparted to them unity and confidence. But the contest be- tween the presumption of the King of I'russia and the circumspe(;tion of Brunswick, retarded every resolu- tion, and prevented the allies from being seriously either daring or prudent. The capture of Verdun tended to excite the vanity of Frederick William and the ardour of the emigrants, but gave no stimidiis to the activity of Bruns^vick, wlio strongly disapproved of the invasion with tlie means intrusted to him, and with the dispositions of the invaded country. After the fall of Verdun, on the 2d September, the allied army lay extended for several da3's over tlie ])lains bordering on tlie ileuse, contenting itself with tlie occupation of Stcnay, and not making a step in ad- vance. Dumouriez was at Sedan, and liis army en- camjied in the environs. From Sedan to Passavant stretches a forest, whose name ouglit to be for ever famous in French annals. It is the forest of the Argonne, wliich covers a space of from thirteen to fifteen leagues, and which, from tlie inequalities of surface, and the mixture of wood and water, is completely impassable to an army, except at certain princii)al avenues. By this forest it was necessary for the enemy to penetrate in order to reach Chalons, and afterwards pursue the route to Paris. Holding such a scheme, it is surprising he had not yet thought of occupying its princii)al passes, and therein anticipating Dumouriez, wlio in his jwsition at Sedan was distant from them liy the wliole length of the forest. In the evening after the sitting of the council of war, tiie Frencli general examined the map with an officer in wliose talents lie jjlaced tlie firmest con- fidence — Thouvenot. Pointing out to liim with his finger the Argonne, and the openings by wliich it is traversed, he said to him, " There is the Thermopylas of France : if I can get there before the Prussians, all is saved !" These words warmed the genius of Thouvenot, and the two generals set seriously about the details of this admirable project. The advantages it held out were very considerable. Xot only did it obviate the neces- sity of a retreat, and of making the ISIarne a last fine of defence, but it caused the enemy to lose some very precious time; it would oblige him to remain in the Champagne-Pouilleiise, the wasted, swampy, and bar- ren soil of which was incapable of supporting an army ; it Avoidd save abandoning to him, as in the ease of a retreat to Chalons, the three bishoprics, rich and fertile districts, wliere he might winter in excellent quarters, supposing even that he should fail in forcing the jMarnc. If the enemy, after having lost some time before the forest, should determine upon tiunimg it, and proceed- ing towards Sedan, he would find in front of him th fortresses of the Low Countries ; and it was beyond supposition that they would aU fall before him. If he ascended towards the other extremity of the forest, he would encounter iletz and the army of the centre ; in which case Dumouriez would put himself in pur- suit, and, eflecting a jmiction with Kcllermann, might form a mass of 50,000 men, resting on Metz and va- rious fortified places. In every case, it would cause the purpose of the enemy's march to fad, and ensure the loss of the campaign ; for it was already September, and it was still usual at that season to put armies into winter quarters. The project, therefore, was excel- lent ; but obstacles stood m the way of its execution. The Prussians, extending along the Argonne, whilst Diunouriez was at one of its extremities, could easily have occupied its passes; consequently the fate of this grand scheme, and of France, depended upon a chance and an oversight of the enemy. Five defiles, called the Chene-Populeux, the Croix- aux-Bois, Grand-Pre, La Chalade, and I^es Islettes, intersected the Argonne. The most important were Grand-Pre and Les Islettes ; and, mifortimately, they were the farthest from Sedan, and the nearest to the enemy. Dumouriez resolved to proceed thither him- self with all his army. < At the same time he ordered General Dubouquet to quit the department of tlue north, and occupy the avenue of the Chene-Populeux, which was of yjcat importance, but very near Sedan, and consequently its occupation was less urgent. Two routes offered themselves to Dumouriez to reach Grand-Pre and Les Islettes ; the one beliind the forest, the other before it and in face of the enemy. The first, passing in the rear of the forest, was the safest but also the longest ; it woidd expose the plan to the enemy, and give him time to counteract it. The se- cond was shorter ; but it likewise betrayed the object, and exposed the march to the attacks of a formidable army. It would be necessarj', in fact, to skirt the length of the forest, and pass before Stenay, where Clairfayt and Ms Austrians were stationed. Dumou- riez, however, preferred the latter route, and adopted the boldest course. He concluded, that, with the usual Austrian prudence, the general would not fail, when he saw the French, to uitrench himself in the excel- lent camp of Brouenne ; and that, whilst he was so doing, they would slip past him, and push forward to Grand-Pre and Les Islettes. Accordingly, on the 30th, Dillon was set in motion, and departed vrith 8000 men for Stenay, marching between the ^leuse and the Argonne. lie encountered Clairfayt, who occupied the two banks of the river with 25,000 Austrians. General Miaczinsky attacked with 1500 men the advanced posts of Clairfiiyt, whilst Dillon, stationed in the rear, marched to his support with his whole division. A smart firing ensued, and Clairfayt, unniediately repassing the Meuse, proceeded to fix "himself at Brouenne, as Dumouriez had very exactly forethought. In the mean time, DiUon boldly HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 177 continued his route between the Mouse and the Ar- gonne. Dumouriez closely followed him witli the 15,000 men who formed his main army, and they botli advanced towards the positions prescribed for tliem. On the 2d September Uuraouriez was at Beflu, and had only one march to make to reach Grand-Prc. Dillon was the same day at PiciTemont, and still draw- ing neai'er tlie Islettes with exemplary intrepidity. Fortiinatel}' for him, Generid Galbaud, wlio had been sent to reinforce the garrison of Verdun, had arrived too late, and fallen b;ick on the Islettes, Mhich he consequent!}' held in advance. Dillon arrived there on the 4th with his 10,000 men, forthwith established liimseh', and fiu'tliermore sent a detachment to seize La Chalade, another secondary pass which was con- fided to him. At the same time, Duraouriez reached Grand- Pre, foimd the post vacant, and took possession of it on the 3d. Thus on the 3d and 4th, the passes were occupied by the French, and the safety of the comitry was materially secured. It was by this daring march, at least as meritorious as the idea of occupying the Argonne, that Dumouriez put himself in a state to resist the invasion. But nmch more was reqviii'ed ; it was necessary to render these passes impregnable, and for that end to make a variety of dispositions, the success of which depended on a nndtitude of chances. Dillon intrenched himself at the Islettes : he felled trees, raised excellent intrenchments, and, skilfidly disposing his artillery, which was niunerous and effi- cient, planted batteries in such a manner as to render the pass inaccessible. He occupied, likewise, La Cha- lade ; and was thus master of the two routes which conducted to Sainte-Menehoidd, and from Sainte- Menehoidd to Chalons. Dumouriez established liim- self at Grand Pre, in a camp whicli natm-e and art liad combined to render formidable. The army was stationed on heights, extending in the form of an amphitheatre. At the base of these heights stretched vast pastm-e-lands, in front of which ran the Aire, forixdng the tete-du-camp. Two bridges were thrown over the Aire ; two strong advanced guards were posted on them, with orders to retreat in case of attack, and burn the bridges. The enemy, after dis- lodging these advanced troops, woidd have to eflect a passage across the Aire without the aid of bridges, and exposed to the fire of the Avhole French artillery. After clearing the river, he would have to traverse a basin of meadows with a thousand cross-fires, and finally carry steep and almost inaccessible intrench- ments. Siipposing all these obstacles shoidd be over- come, Dumouriez, retiring by the heights he occupied, coidd descend on their opposite flanks, take at their base the Aisne, another water-course sltirting them in the rear, cross two other bridges he would take care to destroy, and thus again place a river between him and the Prussians. This camp might mdeed be deemed impregnable, and there the French general was in sufficient security to enable him to attend in tranquil- lity to the whole theatre of the war. On the 7th, General Dubouquet occupied with COOO men the pass of the Chene-Populeux. The only avenue that remained free was the comparatively unimportant one of the Croix-aux-Bois, situated be- tween the Chene-Populeux and the (irand-Prc. Du- mouriez, after breaking up the road and felling trees, had posted there a colonel with two battalions and two squadrons. Thus, ))laced in the centre of the forest, and in an impregnable camp, he defended the principal defile with 15,000 men, having on his right, at a distance of four leagues, Dillon, who guanleil the Islettes and La Chalade with 8000 men, on his left Dubouqiiet, defending the Chene-l'opulenx with GOOO, and in the interval ])etween the Chene-Populeux and Grand-Prc, a colonel watching with a few companies over the route of the Croix-aux-Bois, which h;ul been considered of very secondary importance. His entire defence being thus constituted, he was in a condition to wait for reinforcements, and he has- tened to give orders with reference to that object. He directed Beurnonville to quit the frontiers of the Low Coimtries, where the Duke of iSaxe-Tesclien was ~ attempting nothing of moment, and to be at Kethel on the 13th Septendjcr with 10,000 men. He assigned Chalons as the depot for jirovisions and munitions, and the rendezvous for reciniits and reinforcements dispatcliing to liiTu. He thus concentrated behind hun all the means available for an eft'ectual resistance. At the same time, he apprised tlie executive power that he liad occupied the Argonne. " Grand-Pre and Les Islettes," he wrote, " are our straits of Thermo- pyl^ ; but I will be more fortunate than Leonidas." lie required that some regiments should be detached from the army of the Rhine, Avhicli was not menaced, and added to the army of the centre, previously in- trusted to Kellermann. As the plan of the Prussians evidently was to march on Paris, from their masking Montmedy and Thionville, without stopping before them, he desired that Kellermann shoidd be ordered to skirt their left by Ligny and Bar-le-Duc, and thus take them in flank and in rear during their ofiensive march. According to aU these dispositions, if the Prussians, renomicmg the idea of forcing the Argonne, shoidd proceed higher up, Dumouriez might reach Eevigny before them, and there meet KeUermann com- mg from Metz with the army of the centre. If they went doAvn towards Sedan, Dumouriez would still follow them, join the 10,000 men under Beurnonville, and await Kellermann upon the banks of the Aisne. In both cases, the jmiction would concentrate a mass of 60,000 men, capable of appearing in the open field. The executive power omitted nothing to second Dumouriez in his skilfid dispositions. Servan, the minister at war, though suffering from illness, gave unremitting attention to the provisioning of the armies, to the transport of stores and ammmiitiun, and to the assembling of the new levies. He dispatched every day from Paris from 1500 to 2000 volunteers. A general feeling towards the army had set ui, and pdople flocked to it in multitudes. The patriotic societies, the commmial councils, and the national assembly, were continually interrupted by companies spontaneously levied parading through' their halls before they departed for Ch;dons, the general rendez- vous for volunteers. Nothing was wanting to these young soldiers but discipline and the habit of war, wliich, although at present not possessing, they might soon acquire under an able general. The Girondists were personal enemies of Dumou- riez, and placed but a snudl share t)f confidence in him ever since he had driven them from the ministr}' ; they had even pm-posed superseding him in the gene- ral command in fiivour of an officer named Grimoard. But they cordiaUy united with him so soon as the destinies of the coimtry seemed greatly to dei)end upon hun. Roland, the purest and most magnanimous amongst them, wrote to him a touching letter, in which he assured him that all was forgotten, and that all his friends Avished only to have his victories to celcl)rate. Dumouriez, then, had energetically seized upon the threatened frontier, and made liimself the focus of great movements, hitherto too slow and disunited. He had ha])pily occui)ied the defik's of the Argonne, and taken up a position M'hich aflbrded the armies time to unite and organise themselves in his rear. He brought up in succession all the various corps, in order to form one imposing nuiss, and i)laced Keller- mann under the necessity of receiving his orders from him. His conunand was distinguished for vigovn- and celerity ; and he imi)arted courage to his soldiers by appearing in the midst of them, testifyhig unlimited coniidence in them, and inspiriting them with ardour for sjieedy combat with the enemy. Such was the state of afliiirs on tlie 10th September. The I'russians attempted all the French posts, skir- mished in front of all their intrenchments, and wei-e 17» HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. I every vhere repiilsed. Duniouriez had cut secret communications in tliu interior of the forest, and was thus enabled to bring unexpected forces upon menaced points, whicli, in the opinion of the enemy, doubled the actual strength of the French army. . On the 11 th, tliere was a general attack against Grand-Pro, but General Miranda, stationed at Mortamnc, and General Stengel at Saint-Jouvin, repelled all the attempts. The soldiers, encouraged by their position, and the firm attitude of their leaders, leapt over tlie intrench- ments at .several points, and advanced with bayonets fixed to meet the assailants in their ajiproach. These combats served to keep the army occupied : at the same time it often wanted provisions, on account of the inevitable disorder attendant upon a volunteer enrolment. But the gaiety of the general, who fared DO better than his soldiers, induced all to bear priva- tions with resignation ; and, in spite of a dysentery which began to prevail, a gratifying contentment reigned in the camp of Grand-Prc. The superior oflBcers alone, who doubted the possibility of a long resistance, and the ministry, whose faith was not more confirmed, spoke of a retreat behind the Marne, and pestered Dumouricz with their forebodings. He, on his part, wrote stimidating letters to tlie ministers, and unposed sUence upon liis officers, telling them that when he desired to hear their opinions he would con- voke a council of war. The most brilliant qiialities of a man are unavoid- ably accompanied by certain drawbacks. The very promptitude of Uumouriez's genius often Minded him to reflection. His ardour in conception had already sometimes led him to overlook material obstacles to his projects, a signal instance of which occurred when he ordered Lafiiyette to proceed from IVIetz to Givet. He here again coimnitted a capital blunder, which, if he had been endowed Avith less strength of character and cool determination, would have caused the loss of the campaign. Between the Chenc-Populeux and Grand-Pre was, as we have stated, a secondarj^ avenue, tlie importance of Avhich had been deemed inconsi- derable, and it was consequently defended by but two batt;dions and two squadrons. Overpowered with urgent demands upon his attention, Dumouriez had not gone in person to estimate the value of this defile. Besides, having but few men at disposal to station there, he had too readily adopted the idea that a few hundred men would suffice to guard it. To increase the mischief, the colonel who commanded at that post persuaded him tliat a part even of the troops already there might be withdrawn, and that, by breaking up the roads, a few volunteers would be able to maintain the defensive. Dumouriez allowed himself to be de- ceived by this colonel, who was an old soldier, and held worthy of confidence. In the mean time, Brunswick had examined the different French positions, and for a moment enter- tained the project of skirting the forest as far as Sedan, with the view of turning it at that extremity. Whilst preparing for this movement, it would seem that his scouts acquainted him with the negligence of the French general. Tlie Croix-aux-Bois was attacked by some Austrians and emigrants commanded by the Prince de Ligne. The intrenchments of felled 'trees liad scarcely been commenced, the roads were not broken, and the pass was occupied without resistance on the morning of the 1.3th. The instant Dumouriez learnt this disastrous intelligence, he sent General Chasot, a man of distinguished bravcrv, M-ith two bri- gades, six squ.adrons, and four eight-pounders, to dis- lodge the Austrians and again occupy the pass. He directed they should be attacked with the utmost promptitude at the point of the bayonet, before they should have time to intrench themselves. The 13th and 14th September both elapsed ere General Chasot could execute liis orders. At length, on the 15th, he attacked with vigour, and drove back the enemy, who lost both the post and its commander, the Prince de Ligne. But, attacked two hours later by a very su- perior force, and before he could intrench himself, he was repidsed in his turn, and entirely dispossessed of the Croix-aux-Bois. He was furthermore cut off from Grand-Pre, and unable to retire towards the main army, which was thus weakened to the extent of his force. He accordingly fell back on Vouziers. General Dubouquet, commanding at the Chene-Populeux, and hitherto successful in his resistance, seeing himself separated from Grand Pre, conceived that he ought not to expose himself to the risk of being enveloped by the enemy, who, having pierced the line at the Croix-aux-Bois, was about to debouch in mass. He resolved, therefore, to decamp, and retreat by Attigny and Somme-Puis upon Chalons. Thus the fruit of so many bold combinations and auspicious accidents was lost ; the only obstacle in the way of the invasion, the Argonne, was overcome, and the route to Paris laid open. Dumouriez, severed from Chasot and Dubouquet, had no more than fifteen thousand men ; and if the enemy, debouching rapidly by the Croix-aux-Bois, turned the position of Grand-Pre and occupied the pas- sages of the Aisne, which, as we have stated, served for outlet at the rear of the camp, the French general was undone. "With forty thousand Prussians in front and twenty-five thousand Austrians in rear, thus hemmed in with fifteen thousand men by sixty-five thousand, by two streams of water and the forest, he could have done notliing more than lay down his arms or perisli uselessly to the last man. The only army upon which France relied was in that case annihilated, and the allies were at fidl liberty to march upon Paris. In this desperate situation, the general's courage was dauntless as ever, and he preserved an admirable coolness. His first care was that verj' day to take measures for securing a retreat, since the most press- ing matter on his hands was to free himself with all disi)atcli from the Caudine forks. He reflected that by his right he touched Dillon, still master of the Islettes and of the route to Sainte-jMenehould ; that by falling back upon his rear, and resting his army buck to back with him, they would both face the enemy, the one at the Islettes and the other at Sainte- Menehould, and thus present a double intrenched front. There they might await the junction of the two generals, Chasot and DuVwuquet, now detached from the main body ; that of Beurnonviile, ordered from Flanders to be at Kethelon the 13th; and, lastly, that of Kellermann, who, having been already upwards of ten days on the march, could not be long in arriving. This plan was the best and the most consistent with the system adopted by Dumouriez, which was not to retreat into the interior towards an open country, but to keep in a difficidt country, in which to temporise and jiut himself in a position to effect his junction with the army of the centre. If, on the contrary, he had fallen back on Chidons, he would have been pur- sued as a fugitive, executing, under every disadvan- tage, a retreat he miglit have made more advanta- geously at first, and debarring himself, above all, from the possibility of an union witli Kellermann. It evinced great hardihood, after a mischance such as that of the Croix-aux-Bois, to persist in his system ; and it needed at the moment equal genius and energy to avoid yielding to the counsel, so oft repeated, to retire behind the INIarne. But, after all, how many fortunate chances were requisite to effect successfully a retreat so difficult, so harassed, and to be made with so small a body of troojjs in the face of so powerfid an enemy ! Without a moment's delay, he sent orders to Beur- nonviile, previously directed upon Bethel, to Chasot, from whom he had just received some cheering news, and to Dubouquet, retiring upon Attignv, enjoining all of them to muster at Sainte-Meneliould. At the same time, he again sent a message to Kellermann to continue his march, for he was reasonably apprehen- HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 179 sive Jest Kellermann, when he learnt tlie loss of the defiles, should return to Metz. After havmg made all these dispositions, and receiving a Priissian officer who requested a parlej', to whom he showed the camp in the highest order, he struck his tents at midnight, and marched in silence towards the two bridges which served for communication to the camp of Grand- Pro. Luckily for him, the enemy had not yet thought of penetrating by the Croix-aux-Bois and tiu-ning the French positions. The sky was stormy, and covered with its shadows the retreat of the French. They marched all night over deplorable roads ; and the army, which had not been allowed time to take alarm, retired without knowing the reason that induced its com- mander to change his position. The next day, the 16th, at eight in the morning, aU the troops had crossed the Aisne ; Dumom'iez had escaped, and he lialted in battle-array upon the heights of Autry, four leagues from Grand-Pre. He was not pursued ; con- clucUng himself safe, he advanced to Dammartin-sur- Hans, in order to select an encampment for the day, but was suddenly startled by fugitives crymg out that all was lost, and that the enemy, havuig fallen on the rear, had put the army to rout. Dumouriez hastened to his rearguard, and foimd the Peruvian Miranda and old General Duval stopping the fugitives, and re- forming, with exemplary fortitude, the ranks of the amiy, which the Prussian hussars had for a time sur- prised and broken. The inexperience of these yoimg troops, and the fears of treachery which then fiUed all minds, rendered panics easy and frequent. How- ever, all was remedied by the exertions of the three generals, jMiranda, Duval, and Stengel, who were stationed in the reargaiard. The army bivouacked at Dammartin, with hopes of soon reaching the back of the Islettes, and happily terminatmg its perilous retreat. Dumouriez had been on horseback twenty hours. At six in the evening he was dismounting, when he again suddenly heard cries of terror and clismay, im- precations against generals who were traitors, and especially against the commander-in-chief, Avho had gone over, it was said, to the enemy. The artillery was horsed, and about to be driven off to a height for safety. All the troops were thrown together and con- founded. He caused large bonfires to be hghted, and gave orders that the army should remain on the spot all night. Ten hours were thus passed in mud and darkness. Upwards of fifteen hmidred fugitives, es- caping across the fields, spread the intelligence at Paris, and through all France, that the army of the north, the last hope of the country, was lost, and de- livered into the hands of the enemy. The next day all was repaired. Dmnouriez wrote to tlie national assembly with his accustomed confi- dence. " I have been obliged to abandon the camp of Grand-Pre," said he. " The retreat was effected, when a ])anic seized upon the army, and 10,000 men fled before 1.500 Prussian hussars. The loss does not exceed fifty men and some baggage. Ai,l is remk- DIED, AND I ANSWER FOR ALL." Nothing less than such assurances M'ould have sufficed to calm the ter- ror.s of Paris and the executive council, which was again moved to enjoin upon the general the i)assage behind the Marne. Sainte-jMenehoiUd, whither Dumouriez was march- ing, is situated on the Aisne, one of the two rivers which enclosed the encampment iit Grand-Pre. I)u- mom'iez, therefore, had to ascend its course, and ])efore reaching it, had to pass three tolerably deep streams wliich fall into it, nainely, the Tourbc, the Bionne, and the Auve. BeyoTid these three streams was the camp he intended to occupy. In front of Sainte-IVh-ne- hould rise in circidar form some heights for three- quarters of a league. At their base stretches a sunken plain, in which the Auve forms marshes before dis- cliarging its waters into the Aisne. This hollow is bounded on the right by the heights of L'llyron, in front by those of La Lune, and on the left by those of Gisancourt. In the centre of tlie basin are different elevations, lower, however, than those of Sainte-]Mene- hould. The hill of Valmy is one of them, and im- mediately fi'onts the eminence of La Lune. The high road from Chalons to Sainte-j\Ienehould passes across this basin, ahnost parallel to the course of the Auve. It was at Sainte-Menehould, and above this basin, that Dimiouriez jdanted himself He took possession of all the most important positions aroimd him, and rested his rear against Dillon, whom he urged to hold firm against the enemy. He thus occupied the high road to Paris upon three points — Les Islettes, Sainte-lNlene- hould, and CJialons. It was ])ossible, however, for the Prvissians, if they penetrated by Grand-Pre, to leave him at Sainte- ]\Ienehould, and make a rapid advance to Chalons. Consequently Dumouriez ordered Dubouquet, whose ha];)py arrival at Chalons he had learnt, to occupy with his division the camp of L'Epine, and collect there all the volmiteers recently arrived, in order to cover Chalons from a sudden attack. He was subse- quently joined by Chasot, and idtimately by Beurnon- ville. The latter had come in sight of Sainte-IMene- hould on the 1 5th. Perceiving an army in excellent position, he had supposed it to be the enemy, for he could not imagine that Dumouriez, who was reported vanquished, had so speedily and successfully extri- cated himself from the embarrassments by which he was miderstood to have been paralysed. Under this impression, he had fallen back on Chalons, when, being informed of the real state of the case, he had returned and taken up a position on the 19th at ]Maffrecourt, on the right of the camp. He brought with him those 10,000 men whom Dumouriez had abl}' trained, dm:- ing a month in the camp at Maulde, by a constant war of posts. When strengthened by Chasot and Beur- nonville, Dumouriez could muster 35,000 men. Thus, owing to his firmness and presence of mind, he again fomid himself in a very strong position, and in a capa- city to temporise nearly at pleasm-e. But if the enemy, acting promptly, shoiild leave him behind, and push rapidly forward to Chalons, what became of his cam]» at Sainte-Menehould? The same fear was always present ; and his precautions, liy the camp at L'Epine, were quite inefficient to obviate such a danger. Two movements ivere progressing leisurely in liis vicinity — that of the Duke of Brunswick, who hesitated m his march, and that of Kellermann, mIio, having left INIetz on the 4th, had not yet arrived at the stipu- lated point, after being fifteen days on the road. But if tlie slowness of Brunswick availed Dumom'iez, tiiat of Kellermann seriously compromised him. This general, prudent and irresolute, though of imdoubted gallantr}', had alternately advanced and receded, ac- cording to the marches of the Prussian army ; and so lately as the 17th, on learning the loss of the defiles, he had made a retrograde movement. At length, on the evening of the 19th, he apprised Dumouriez that he was Avithin two leagues of Sainte-^Ieiiehonld. Du- mouriez had reserved for him the iK'iglits of Gisau- court, situated on his left, and connnanding the road to Chalons, and the rivulet of the Auve. He had commimicated to him, that in case of a battle, he might deploy on the secondary heights, and plant him- self on Vahny, on the ojjposite side of the Auve. He could not si)are time to go in person and post his col- league. Kellermann, ^lassing the Auve during the night of the 19th, fixed himself on ^'a]nly, in lliet'entre of the l)asin, and neglected the heiglits of Gisancourt, which formed the left of the camp of Sainte-Menehould, and connnanded those of La Lmie, upon wliich the Prussians were arriving. At this moment, in fact, the Prussians, delioucliing by Grand-Pre, haositc background was Dumouriez, and on Ids left Kellenniinn, on the heights he had just seized. In this singidar position, the French, looking towards France, seemed the in- vading force, and the Priissians, leaning iipon her, seemed drawn up to defend her from aggression. At this period, DuuKJuriez connnenced a fresh series o{ firm and energetic measures, both against the enemy and against Ids own officers and the executive autho- HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 181 rity. With nearly 70,000 troops, intrenched in a good encani])ment, and with no, or a very rare, deficiency of provisions, he could temporise with eminent com- posure. The Prussians, on the contrary, were at a loss for subsistence ; diseases began to prevail ui their army, and in such a situation inactivity was disastrous to them. An inclement season, besides, acting on a swampy and Inuuid soil, rendered it impossible for them to icmain any length cif time. And then, should they tlms late resume the promptitude and vigour befitting an invasion, and march upon Paris, Dmnou- riez was in force to follow, and close upon tliem when engaged in front. Such deductions were consistent with reason and prudence. But in the camp, where the officers were growing weaiy of privations, and where Kellermaun was dissatisfied with subjection to a superior autho- rity ; at Paris, where they felt themselves separated from the principal army, and coidd perceive no ob- stacle between them and the Prussians — where, in fact, they saw the liulans aijproach within fifteen leagaies, since the forest of Argonne was laid open — tlie views of Dumoiu'iez excited disapprobation. The assembly and the council inveighed against his obstinacy, and wrote him the most imperative letters to abandon his position and repass the IMarne. The camp at Mont- niartre, and an army betM^een Chalons and Paris, were the double ramparts essential in the estimation of atfriglited citizens. " The hulans pester you," wrote IJiunouriez : " well ! kiU them ; the affiiir does not concern me. I wUl not change my plan for skirmish- ers." Entreaties and commands, however, did not the less continue to pour in upon him. In the caniiJ, the officers were free and pertinacious m their remarks. Tlie soldiers alone, cheered by the gaiety of the gene- ral, who was um-emitting m going through their ranks, in encouraging them, and in explamuag to them the critical position of the Prussians, patiently endured the rain and the privations to which they were ex- posed. On one occasion, Kellermami resolved to leave, and I)umom"iez was compelled, like Columbus stipu- lating for a few days more from his crew, to promise he would decamp, if within a certain nmnber of days the Prussians did not beat a retreat. The fine army of the allies was truly in a very de- plorable condition; it was perishing by famine, and still more by the afflicting consequences of dysentery. I'lie dispositions of Uumouriez had powerfully contri- buted to i)roduce this dismal emergency. The sharp- sliooting in front of the camp being deemed useless, because it conduced to no result, it was agreed between the two armies to suspend it ; but Dumoiiriez stipu- hited that the intermission shoiild be confined to the front alone. Accordingly, he detached all his cavalry, especially that of the new levy, into the surrounding country, in order to intercept the convoys of the enenn-, who, having arrived by the defile of Grand-Pre, and ascended the course of the Aisne in pursuit of the French retreat, was obliged to bring his stores by the same tedious circuit. The French trooj)ers grew enamoured of so lucrative a warfare, and prosecuted it witli signal success. In this position of affairs, September drew to a close; the evil became intolcral)le in the Prussian army, and officers were sent to the French camp to hold a parley. At first an exchange of prisoners was tlie only (juestion mooted: the Prus- sians demanded the l)eiK'fit of the exchange for tlie emigrants, but it was refused tliein. A refined polite- ness marked the intercourse on both sides. From the topic of exchanging prisoners, conversation proceeded to the motives of the war; and, on the ])art of tlu; Prussians, it was almost avowed that the war had been impolitic. The character of Dumouriez hen; appeared in full relief. Pelieved from the cares of fighting, he comjiosed memorials for the King of I'mssia, and demonstrated to him how little he couM gain by iniiting with the house of Austria against France. At the same time he sent him twelve pounds of cofiee, the last that remained in both camps. His memorials, wliich could not fail to be appreciated, were nevertheless ungraciously received, and could scarcely be otherwise. Brunswick replied, in the name of the King of Prussia, by a declaration as arrogant as his first manifesto, and all negotiation was broken off. The assembly, when consulted by Dumom-iez, returned the answer of the Eom.an senate, that it woidd not treat with the enemy luitU he had removed fi'om the soil of France. These negotiations were attended with no other effect than affording ground of cahminy against tlie general, who was thenceforth suspected of holding secret relations with the enemy; and draAvmg upon him the atlected disdain of a haughty monarch, soured by the result of the war. But such was Dimiouriez; possessing all the attributes of courage and mind in their highest developments, he was deficient in that reserve and dignity which awes men, whilst genius does but excite their admiration. Be that as it may, it came to pass as the French general had foreseen; for, on the 1st October, the Prussians, imable to bear up any longer against the combined evils of hunger and disease, began to decamp. It was a grand subject of amazement, conjecture, and fabidous narration for all Europe, to behold so puissant and much-vaunted an army retreating in hmnihation before those patri- otic artisans and shopkeepers, who were to have been driven back into their towns by beat of drum, and chastised for having left them. The feebleness with which the Prussians were pursued, and the impunity seemingly accorded them as they repassed the defiles of the Argonne, gave rise to the supjiosition of secret stipidations, and even of a bargain with the King of Prussia. The military considerations wiU accoimt, better than all such vague allegations, for the retreat of the allies. To remain in so disastrous a position was no longer possible. To invade had become altogether inoppor- tune in a season so far advanced and so inclement. The only resource, therefore, was to retire into Luxunibourg and Lorraine, and there form a strong basis of opera- tions, with a view to recommence the campaign the following year. Besides, there are grounds for behev- ing that at this moment Frederick ^Yilliam was re- volving in his mind the assumjition of his part of Poland; for, after having stimidated the Poles against Eussia and Austria, that prince now evinced a readi- ness to share in their spoliation. Thus the state of the season and of the localities ; disgust at an abortive enterprise; regi'et at having allied himself against France with the house of Austria; and, lastly, new in- terests in the north, were with his majesty of Prussia motives amply sufiicient to determine his retreat. It was effected in perfect order, for the enemy, who con- sented to depart, was not a whit the less formidable on that account. To attempt blocking up his retreat and compelling him to open a passage by a victory, was animiirudence Dumouriez would not conmiit. It was incmiibi'iit on him to he contented with harassing it; and this he did with too little activity; in wliicli negligence both he and Kelk'rmann were to blame. The danger being past, and the camitaign finished, each reverted to himself and his own jn-ojects. Du- mouriez thought of his enterprise into the Low Countries, Kelk'rmami of his command at I\Ietz; and the pursuit of tlii' Prussians failed to olitaiii from the two generals tiie attiution it re(]uired. Dumom'iez dispatched General d'llarville to the Chene-Popu- leux to fiill uiHin the emigrants, and ordered Genenil Miaczinski to wait for them at Stenay, at the outlet of the pass, to conqilcte their destruction; he sent Chasot in the same direction, to occujiv the road to Longwy; stationeil the generals Biurnoiiville, Stengel, and ValeiK'C, with upwards of twenty-five thousand men, on the rear of the grand army,' with orders to pursue it with vigour; and at the sainc time forwarded an injunction to Dillon, who had throughout maiu- N 182 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. tained liiiuself at the Islettes with perfect success, *o advance upon Clermont and Varennes, in order to cut off the route to Verdun. These dispositions were doubtless good, but they ought to have l)een executed by the general himself; he ought, according to the very just and intelhgent opinion of JI. .loniini, to have pushed directly upon the Rhine, and afterwards de- scended it with all his army. In that moment of suc- cess, overthrowing all before him, he would have con- quered Belgium in a single march. But he resolved upon going to Paris, with the view of arranging an invasion by Lille. On their part, t(X), the three gene- rals, Ik'urnonville, Stengel, and Valence, did not act in concert sufficiently, and but feebly pursued the I'rus- siiuis. Valence, who served under Kellerniann, sud- denly received an order to join his general at Chalons, in order to resume the route to Metz. It must be allowed that this movement was sti-angely imagined, since it conducted Kellerniann into the interior, to turn afterwards into the route to the Lorraine fron- tier. The rational course was in front, by Vitry or Clermont, and that coincided with the ])ursuit of tlie Prussians in the manner directed by Dumouriez. The instant tlie latter heard of the order given to Valence, he laid fresh injimctions upon that officer to pursue his march, stating that so long as the junction of the armies of the north and centre continued, the supreme command belonged to him alone. He remonstrated ver}- warmly with Kellerraann, who ultimately recalled his previous determination, and consented to take his course by Sainte-iSIenehoidd and Clermont. However, the pursuit was conducted with the same faiutness as before. Dillon alone harassed the Prussians with im- petuous ardour, and narrowly escaped severe treat- ment, by darting too rashly on their track. The want of concord amongst the generals, and their personal estrangements after the danger, were e\videntl}' the sfjle causes of so easy a retreat being granted to the Prussians. It has been asserted that their departure was purchased, and the price defrajx'd by the produce of a theft, to which we shall subse- quently refer ; that it was arranged with Uumouriez, one of the stipulations in the bargain being the free passage of the Prussians ; ajid, lastly, that Louis XVI. had solicited it from the recesses of his prison. We have just seen that this retreat may be suffi- ciently accounted for by natural causes ; but several other reasons demonstrate the absurdity of such sup- positions. Thus, It is not crodil>Ie that a monarch, whose failing was not that of a vile cupidity, should allow himself to be bought ; we cannot see whj-, if there were a convention, Dumouriez should not have justified himself in the eyes of military men for not having ])ursued the enemy, by avowing a treaty which had nothing discreditable in it, so far as he was con- cerned ; lastly, the king's valet-de-chambre, Ck'ry, assures us that nothing similar to the pretended letter addressed by Louis XVI. to Frederick William, and transmitted by the attorney of the commune, ^Manuel, was ever written, or given to that personage. The whole relation, therefore, is but a tissue of falsehood; and the retreat of the allies was simply the natural consequence of the eampaif^n. Dumouriez, in sj)ite of his faults, of his oversight at Grand-Prc, and of his negligence with regard to the retreat, was neverthe- less the preserver of France, and of a revolution which has probably advanced Europe by several centuries. It was he who, taking the eonnnand of an army dis- organised, distrustful, and discontented ; restoring to it unity and confidence; establishing along the whole of that frontier a concentrated and vigorous action ; never yielding to despair amiartnients for purchases of grain ordered by the last assembly; and the public exigencies required some new extraordinary resources. The mass of national property augmenting every day by emigration, no fears were entertained from the issue of paper repre- senting it, nor hesitation felt at making the experi- ment : a fresh creation of assignats was accorduigly ordered. Roland was heard upon the state of France and the capital. Equally severe, but bolder than on the .3d September, he set forth in energetic terms the dis- orders of Paris, their causes, and the means of pre- ^ enting them. He recommended the prompt institu- tion of a strong and vigorous government, as the only guarantee of order in free states. His report was favourably heard, and crowned with applause, failing to excite any explosion on the part of those who con- sidered themselves as accused when the troubles of Paris were alluded to. But scarcely had this first glance been cast over the situation of France, than news arrived of the spread of disorder in certain departments. Roland wrote a letter to the convention, denouncing these new ex- cesses, and demanding their refjression. The instant the letter was read, the deputies Kersaint and Buzot sprang to the tribune, to inveigh against the violences ol all descriptions in progress ef commission. " The assassinations," said they, " are indtated in the dc- jiartments. It is not anarchy we can charge with them, but tyrants of a new order, who are arising in scarcely emancipated France. It is from Paris that these fatal mstigations to crime are daily sent. On all the walls of the capital Ave read placards stimulat- ing to murder, burning, pillage ; and lists of proscrip- tion, in which fresh victims are daily pointed out. How are the x>eople to be preserved from wretchedness, if so many citizens are condemned to shroud their existence ? How can France hope for a constitution, if the convention which is appointed to frame it de- liberates beneath the points of daggers? It is neces- I sary, for the honour of the revolution, to suppress all I these excesses, and draw the distinction between the I civic gallantry Avhich braved despotism on the 10th August, and the savage cruelty Avhich ministered to a I still and hidden tjTanny on the 2d and 3d September." In consequence, the orators demanded the appoint- ment of a committee, charged — I 1st, To render an account of the state of the repub- I lie, and of Paris in particidar. 2d, To present a project of law agauist instigators I to murder and assassination. j 3d, To draw up a statement of the means adapted j for raising a public force, to be placed at the disj)osi- tion of the Nationtd Convention, and taken from the I eighty-three departments. t At this proposition, all the members of the left side, i on which were ranged the most violent sjiirits of the i new assembly, uttered tumidtuous cries. The evils j of France were exaggerated, they said. The hypocri- tical wailings they had just heard, came from the I depths of the dimgeons, into which those had Ikcii (;ast who, for the last three j'ears, had been invoking the horrors of civil war upon their countr\\ The dis- orders complained against were inevitable"; the people Avere in a state of revolution, and they must of neces- sity adopt energetic measures for their security. At present those critical moments were past, and the declarations already made hy the convention would suffice to idlay all commotions. Besides, why an ex- traordinary jurisdiction? The ancient laAvs existed, and met the case of instigations to murder. Was a new martial law sought to be established? By a very usual contradiction amongst parties, those who had demanded the extraordinary jurisdic- tion of tlie 17th August, those Avho were soon to de- mand the revolutionary tri'ounal, rose indignantly against a hiAv which they denoimced as a law of blood! " A law of blood ! " exclaimed Kersaint in reply : " Avhy, I desire, on the contrary', to prevent its being shed ! " An adjournment Avas strenuously insisted upon. " To adjourn the suppression of murders," cried Vergniaud, " is to legalise them ! The enemies of France are in arms on our frontiers, and you desire that the citizens of France, instead of meeting them in combat, should slay each other like the soldiers of Cadmus ! " At length, the motion of Kersaint and Buzot was adopted Avithout modification. It Avas resoh'ed that laAvs should be framed for the punishment of instiga- tors to murder, and for the organisation of a depart- mental guard. Tills debate of the 24th had caused great excitement amongst the members ; still, no name had been men- tioned, and the accusations remained general. The next day they met Avith all the resentments evoked by the previous sitting still rankling; on one side they murmured against the decrees that had been passed, and on the other felt regret at not having been sufficiently scA-ere upon the faction they stigmatised as disorganising. WhUst one party Avas attacking the decrees, and the other defending them. Merlin, formerly a tipstaff and mimicipal officer at Thionville, and lately a deputy to the legislative body, Avhere he signalised himself amongst the most uncompromising patriots — ]Merlm, renowTied for his ardour and teme- rity, demanded to be heard. " The order of the da3%" said he, " is to elucidate, Avhether, as Lasource assured me yesterday, there exists in the heart of the National Convention a fac- tion labouruig to establish a dictatorsliip or a trium- virate : either these suspicions should cease, or Lasoiu-ce be called upon to mark the guilty ; and I swear to jx)- niard them in face of the assembly." LasoiuTC, thus emi)hatically summoned to exj)lain himself, related his conversation with Merlin, and again described, Avith- out naming them, those ambitious characters who were striving to raise themselves upon the ruins of prostrated royalty. " They are those Avho have sti- mulated murder and robbery ; Avho have issued Avar- rants of arrest against members of the legislature ; who point out for daggers the courageous members of the convention ; and Avho impute to the people the excesses Avhich they themselves order. AVhen the time comes, I Avill tear the veil which I now merely raise, should I perish beneath their l)lows." Still the triumvirs were not expressly named. Os- selin scaled the trihime, and spoke Avith reference to the Parisian dei)utation, of Avhich he Avas one. He said it Avas against the nu'tropolitan deputies distrust Avas intended to be excited, but that they were neither so i)rofomidly ignorant, nor so atrociously Avickcd, as to have formed i)rojects for a triumvirate or a dicta- torship; that he was read}- to take an oath to the fact, and demanded anathema and death against the first who should be found meditating such schemes. " Let each," he added, " follow me to the tribune, and there make the same declaration." " Yes I" exclaimed Rebecqui, the courageous friend of Barbaroux; "yes! that ])arty accused of t_\Tannical projects exists, and I proclaim it : it is the Robespierre party ! Marseilles knows it, and has scut us here to combat it." 188 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. This bt'ld apostrophe caused a great sensation iu tlie assembly. iMl ej'cs were turned on Robespierre. Dan- ton hastened to the tribune in order to appease these divisions, and dispel accusations wliicli he knew to be partly directed aj^ainst himself. " That will be," said he, " a glorious day for the republic, on which a frank and amicable explanation shall allay all these suspi- cions. You speak of dictators, of triumvirs ; but such an accusation is vague, and ought to be signed." " I wiU sign it !" exclauued Rebecqui, darting to the table. " Good," replied Danton ; " if there be traitors, let them be inunolated, were they the dearest of my friends. For myself, my life is laio\ra. In the patri- otic societies, on the 10 th August, and in the executive coiuicil, I have served the cause of liberty without any personal views, and with the energy of my temperament. I do not fear accusations for myself, therefore ; but I wish to avert them from all. There is, I gi-ant, a man in the deputation of Paris, who may be called the Jioyou of republicans : I mean ]\Iarat. I have been often charged as the instigator of his placards ; but I appeal to the testimony of ihe president, and I caU upon him to declare, whether, m the commune and in the committees, he has not often seen me m alterca- tion with iMarat. At the same tune, this -wi-iter, so denomiced, has passed a portion of his life in cellars and dungeons ; sufferings have soiu-ed his temper, and his resentment may be excused. But let us leave these discussions, purely individual, and endeavom- to pro- mote the public good. Decree the pain of death against any who shall propose a dictatorship or triumvirate." This recommendation was warmly applauded. " That is not all," resumed Danton ; " there is another appre- liension rife in the pu1)lic mind, and it is expedient to dissipate it. It is alleged that a number of the de- puties contemplate the federal system, and the divi- sion of France mto a multitude of sections. It behoves us to form but one aggregate. Declare, therefore, by another decree, tlie unity of France and its govern- ment. These points determined, let us cast aside our suspicions ; let us be united, and advance to oiu- com- mon aim." Buzot replied to Danton that a dictatorship is seized, but not solicited, and that to pass laws against such a request was mere delusion ; that, as to the federal system, no person had ever dreamt of it ; that the pro- position of a departmental guard was a means of miity, since all the departments would be called to guard the national representation in conmion ; but that, at the same time, it might be advisable to pass a law upon the subject, which, however, ought to be matmrely weighed ; and that, m consequence, the propositions of Danton should be referred to the committee of six, appointed the previous day. Robespierre, being personally accused, demanded to be heard in his turn. In commencing, he asserted it was not himself he was about to defend, but tlie public weal, attacked in his person. Turning to Rebecqui, " Citizen," said he to that deputy — " you who have not feared to accuse me — I thank you. I recognise in your courage tlie renowned city that has deputed you. The ,country, you, and I, will all gain by this accusation. A party is mentioned," he continued, "which is alleged to be meditating a new tyranny, and I am named as its head. The accusation is vague; but thanks to all I have done for liberty, it will be easy for me to refute it. It was I who, in the Consti- tuent Assemlily, combated for three years all the fac- tions, whatsoever names they assumed ; it was I who fought against the court, and rlisdained its presents ; it was I" " That is not the question," exclaimed several deputies. " He must be allowed to justify him- self," cried Tallien, in reply. " Shice I am accused," resumed Robespierre, " of i)etr:iying the cmmtry, have I not a riglit to set my whole life in opposition to the charge?" He thereupon recommenced tlie enumera- tion of his double services against aristocracy and Bigainst the false patriots wim took tlie nuisk of liberty. In saj'ing these words, he pointed to the right side of the convention. Osselin himself, fatigued with this egotistical review, interrupted Robespierre, and en- joined him to give a frank expLmation. " The ques- tion is not vvhat thou hast done," added Lecointe-Ruy- ravaux, " but what thou art accused of doing at this present time." Robespierre then tauntingly expati- ated on the freedom of opinion, on the sacred right of defence, on the public safety, equally compromised with himself in this accusation. He was agam re- quested to be more precise ; but he continued m the same ihscm'sive strain. RecaUing the famous decrees he was instrumental in passing agamst the re-election of constituent members, and against the nomination of deputies to otHces in the gift of the government, he asked if those were proofs of ambition. Then, recri- minating upon his adversaries, he reiterated the impu- tation of federaUsm ; and concluded by demanding the adoption of the decrees proposed by Danton, and a rigorous examuiation into the charges brought against hmi. Barbaroux, out of all patience, rushed to the bar. "Barbaroux of Marseilles," he exclaimed, "presents himself to sign the denunciation made by Rebecqui against Robespierre." He then recounted a very in- significant and often-repeated tale, to wit, that pre- vious to the 10th August, Pauls conducted him to the house of Robespierre, and that, on the termination of their interview, Panis represented Robespierre to him as the only man, the only dictator, capable of saving the commonwealth; to which communication he, Bar- baroux, had replied, that tlie ilarseillese would never bow the knee before either kmg or dictator. We have ah'cady recorded this circumstance, and our readers may judge whether those vague and trivial expressions of RobespieiTe's friends were sirflicient to support such an accusation. Barbaroux proceeded, and took up, one by one, the charges brought against the Gironchsts. He moved that federalism should be proscribed by a decree, and that all the members of the National Convention shoidd swear to endure a blockade in the capital, and to die within its walls rather than forsake it. After the cheering provoked by this proposition had subsided, Barbaroux resumed his discourse, and said that it was impossible to deny the existence of projects for a dic- tatorship ; that the usurpations of the comnnme, the warrants directed against members of the national representation, the commissioners sent mto the depart- ments, all proved a scheme for domination ; but that the city of Marseilles kept a Avatchful eye upon the safety of its deputies, and, alwaj^s prompt to anticipate patriotic decrees, it had disx^atched a battaUon of fede- ralists, in spite of the royal veto, and was now sending forth eight hmidred of its citizens, to whom their parents had given a brace of pistols, a sabre, a musket, and an assignat for five hundred livres ; that to them were added two hundred cavahy, perfectly equipped ; and that this force would give a commencement to the departmental guard proposed for the security of the convention. "As to Robespierre," concluded Bar- baroux, " I feel much regret at having accused him, for I formerly loved and esteemed him. Yes ! we all loved and esteemed him, and yet we have accused him ! But let him acknowledge his errors and we will desist. Let him cease to complain ; for if he has saved liberty by his writings, we have vindicated it by our persons. Citizens, when the day of peril shall arrive, you will duly estimate us ; and we shall then see whe- ther the fabricators of placards will have the courage to die with us!" Loud acclamations accompanied Barbaroux even to his scat. At the mention of i)lacards, Marat claimed the right of speaking. Cambon likewise sought it, and obtained the preference. He denounced certain placards in which the dictatorship was recommended as indispen- salile, and which were signed with the name of Marat. At this specific charge, every one moved away from HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 189 that personage, who retorted tlie scorn evinced towards liira by a derisive scowl. Otlier accusers of Marat and the commune succeeded Cambon. Marat made strenuous efforts to obtain a hearing ; but Panis once more procured a preference, to enable him to repel the allegations of Barbaroux. Panis, with great lack of discretion, denied actual but irrelevant facts, which it would have been more advantageous to avow, relying upon then" want of purpose. He was interrupted by Brissot, who asked hmi the occasion of the warrant of arrest issued agamst his person. Panis recurred in vmdicatiou to cu'cumstances wliich, he said, had been too readily overlooked; to the disorder and teri-or which prevailed at that time in all minds ; to the mul- titude of denunciations against the conspirators of the 10th August; to the strength of the rumours cur- rent against Brissot, and to the necessity of investi- gating them. After these tedious explanations, every moment interrupted and resumed, ilarat, still insisting upon being heard, at length obtamed the right when it was no longer possible to refuse it to him. It was the fu-st time he had appeared at the tribune. His appearance jjrovoked a biu-st of indignation, and a terrible shout arose against him. "Down! down!" was the general cry. Indifferently clad, wearing a cap, which he laid upon the tribime, and passing over his auditory a convulsive and defying grin, he said : " I have a great nmnber of personal enemies in this assembly" " All ! all !" exclaimed the majority of the deputies. " I have in this assembly," resmned j\Iarat, with impertm'ljable assurance, " a great number of ]3ersonal enemies, whom I invite to the observation of decency. Let them spare their infui'iated clamours agamst a man who has served liberty and themselves more than they imagine. You speak of a triimivirate, of a dictatorship, and attribute the design to the Parisian deputation ; but I owe it to my colleagTies, and especially Robespierre and Danton, to declare that they have always opposed it, and that I have always had to combat them on that point. I first and singly, amongst all the poli- tical writers in France, advocated such a measure, as the only means of crushing traitors and conspirators. It is I alone who am amenable to pimishment ; but before striking, deign to hear me." Here some api>lause was faintly manifested. He resumed. " Amidst the eternal machinations of a perfidious king, of a detest- able court, and of false patriots, who, in both assem- blies, sold the public liberty, can you impute it to me as a crime tliat I conceived the only means of safety, and invoked vengeance upon the heads of the guilty ? No! for if you did so, the nation would disavow you. It felt that this means Avas the only one reserved to it ; and it was by constituting itself dictator that it has delivered itself from traitors. I have shuddered more than any other at the idea of those terrible movements, and it was because I desired they might not be perpetually fruitless that I maintained they sliould be directed by a firm and equitable hand. If the necessity of this step had been perceived at the talcing of the Bastille, five hundred reprobate heads would have fallen at my voice, and peace have been established at that epoch. But in consequence of not having displayed an energy equidly sagacious and necessary, one hundred thousand patriots have been murdered, and one himdred thousand are menaced witli tlie like fate. At tlie same time, as a proof that I did not wish to render this species of dictator, tribune, triumvir (the name is of little mo- ment), a tyrant such as stupidity has imagined, but a victim offered up to the country, whose lot no am})i- tious man would have envied, I intended that his authority should continue only a few days ; tliat it should be restricted to the power of condenming trai- tors; and even that a oannon-l)all sboiild be fastened to his ankle, so that he might be always under the control of the people. My ideas, however revolting they may have ajjpeai-cd to you. were directed to the public good alone. If you were not sufficiently ele- vated to comprehend me, so much the worse for your- selves ! " The profound silence which had hitherto reigned was here broken by laughter, which in no way discon- certed the speaker, uifinitely more terrible than ridi- culous. He continued : " Such was my opinion, An-itten, signed, pubhcly asserted. If it were wrong, you ought to have combated it, shown me that I erred, and not have denounced me to despotism. I am accused of ambition! — but hear and judge me. If I had been AtiUing to put a price on my sUence, I might have been gorged with gold, and I am poor ! Persecuted without intermission, I have wandered from cellar to cellar, and preached truth with my head upon the block ! Open, then, your eyes ; instead of consuming your time in scandalous discussions, consummate the decla- ration of riglits, establish the constitution, and settle the basis of a just and free government, which is the true object of your labours." Universal attention had been conceded to this sin- gular person, and the assembly, astounded at a system so frightful and so studied, had observed a deep silence. Some partisans of IMarat, emboldened by this silence, had applauded ; but they Mere not imitated, and jMarat resumed his seat without receiving either cheers or marks of anger. Vergniaud, the purest and most discreet of the Girondists, deemed himself called upon to kindle the indignation of the assembly. Mounting the tribune, he deplored the misfortime of having to answer a man convicted of crimes. Chabot and TaUien remonstrated against the use of such words, and asked whether they referred to the sentence passed by the Chatelet for havmg immasked Lafayette. Vergniaud persisted, and re-asserted his deep regret at having to answer a man who had not cleared himself from the judgments re- corded against him — a man all steeped in calumny, malice, and blood. The minnuirs were renewed, but he continued with firmness ; and after excepting from tlie general Parisian deputation David, Dusaulx, and some other members, he took in his hands the famous circular of the coimnune, which we have already quoted, and read it word for word. As it was already known, however, it did not produce so matei'ial an effect as another paper, whicli tlie deputy Boileau read in the course of his speech. It was an article published by Marat that very day, in which he said : " A single reflection oppresses me, namely, that all my efforts to save the people wiU result in nothing witliout a fresh insurrection. From the sort of men who compose the majority of the National Convention, I despair of the public safety. If, in the first eight sittings, the foundations of the constitution are not laid, expect no good from that assembly. Fifty years of anarchy await you, and you wUl avert them only In' a dictator — a genuine patriot and statesman. O/i ye ycncrativn of prattlers! did ye but know how to act!" The reading of this article was repeatedly inter- rupted by cries of indignation. Scarcely was it con- cluded, than a large body of the members rose in fury agahist Marat. Some openly threatened him, and shouted, "To the Abbey! To the guillotine!" — others overwhelmed him with ci)itliets of scorn, lie re])lied to all the attacks levelled against him siinjily by his old gTiinacc. Boileau moved a decree of im- peachment, and the majority of the assembly called eagerly for the votes. IMarat insisted, with great self- possession, ujion being heard. It was projwsed that he be heard only at the bar, but he ultimately secured tlie tribune. According to his usual expression, he recalled his enemies to decency. As to the judgments they had not blushed to upbraid him M'ith, lie gloried in tlicni, as the rewartls of his courage. Besides, the peojjle, by sending him into tiie national assembly, had wiped away those decrees, and decided between his accusers and him. As to the article that had just licen read, he was far from disavowing it, inasnuich 190 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. as falsehood never polluted* his lips, and fear was a str;inger to his heart. " To ask from me a retractation," he added, " is to require me not to see what I have before my eyes— not to feel what I am deeply sensible of; and there is no power under the sun capable of thus subverting my ideas. I can answer for the I)urity of my heart, but I cannot change ray thoughts ; they are such as the nature of things suggests to me." Jklarat proceeded to inform the assembly that the article in question, published ten days ago as a pla- caril, had been repultlishcd against his wish by his bookseller, but that he had just given a new exposi- tion of his principles in the first number of the Jour- nal of the Ifcpu/jlic, with wliich the assembly would be assuretUy well satislied, if it would vouchsafe to hear it read. The assembly agreed to allow its perusal, and, ap- peased bv the 'moderate expressions of ]Marat in the article entitled " Its new progress," treated him with less bitterness ; he even obtained some marks of satis- faction. But he remounted the tribmie with his usual ert'rontery, and ventured to administer a severe rebuke to his colleagues upon the dangers of passion and pre- judice. He told them that if his joiu'nal had not ap- peared that very day, opportmiely to exculpate him, they would have bliuLlly consigned him to irons. " But," said he, drawing forth a pistol, Avhicli he always carried in his pocket, and now pointed to his fore- head, " I had the means of securing freedom ; and if you had decreed me under impeachment, I would have blown my brains to atoms in this very tribune. Behold the reward of my labours, of my perils, of my suffermgs ! But now I will remain amongst you to brave your fury !" At this last expression of Marat, his colleagues, moved with all their former indigna- tion, shouted out that he was a fool and a villain, and gave way to a prolonged tumult. The debate had lasted several hours, and what, after all, had been elicited ? Nothing iipon the alleged pro- ject of a dictatorsliip for the dominion of a trimnvirate, but much upon the character of parties, and on their respective strength. Danton had sho^vn himself mo- derate, and full of kindness for his colleagues, pro- vided his conduct were not too severely handled; Robespierre vindictive and sullen ; Marat astounding by his cynicism and cool audacity, repudiated even by his own party, but striving to inculcate his atrocious system, and habituate the mind to its contemj^lation ; — all three prospering in the revolution by different faculties and vices; not acting in concert, on the con- trary disavowing each other, and evidently impelled simply by that desire for influence which is natural to all men, but which has not yet ripened into a project of tyranny. Public opinion went with the Girondists in execrating September and its horrors ; it granted them the estimation due to tlieir talents and probit}-; but it deemed their accusations exaggerated and im- prudent, and held it as but too palpable that certain personal feelings mingled in their indignation. From this day, the assembly Avas divided into a right side and left side, as at the opening of the first Constituent Assembly. On the right side were ranged all the Girondists, and those who, without being per- sonally linked to their destinies, partook, neverthe- less, their generous indignation. In the centre were gathered in considerable number all those honest but peaceable deputies, wlio, moved neither by character nor talents to take part in the contest of factions otherwise than by silent votes, sought obscurity and safety by merging in the multitude. Their numerical force in the assembly, the great respect still enter- tained for that body itself, and the pains taken by the Jacobin and nnmicipal party to justify itself in their eyes, all tended to give them confidence. They loved to beUeve that the authority of the convention would suffice in time to subdue the agitators; nor were they sorry to have a jjlea for deferring the display of energy, and charging the Girondists witli hazarding rash ac- cusations. As yet they were principally distinguished for a laudable spirit of justice and impartiality, at times betraying a certain jealousy of the too frequent and too brilliant eloquence of the right side ; but they wei'e sjieedily to become feeble and cowardly in pre- sence of tyranny. They were called the Plain, and hi opposition, the left side was denominated the Moun- tain, on which all the Jacobins were heaped one above the otlier. Upon the tiers of this Moimtain were per- ceived the deputies of Paris, and such provincial repre- sentatives as owed their election to the correspondence of the clubs, or had been gained since their arrival by the opinion that no quarter ought to be granted to the enemies of the revolution. On them might be likewise discerned certain distinguished characters, men of the exact, rigorous, and positive order of minds, by whom the theories and philanthropy of the Girondists were contemned as idle abstractions. How- ever, the ]\rountaineers were few in number at this time. The Plain, united with the right side, composed an immense majority, wliich had given the presidency to Petion, and approved of the attacks made by the Girondists against September, save the personal de- j nunciations, which seemed too prematm-e, and too insufficiently grounded.* I * The following is the picture which the minister Garat, who [ studied the characters of the revolution with the most observant I eye, has drawn of the two sides of the convention : — [ " In the right side of the convention were included almost all j the men of whom I have just spoken : I could not discern any other spirit anionifst them than such as I had always recORnised in them. There, then, I perceived both that republicanism of sentiment wliich only consents to obey a man when that man speaks in the name of the nation and as the law, and that still more rare republicanism of the mind which has taken to pieces and put together again all the springs of organisation in a society of men alike in rights as in nature ; which has discovered by what happy and profound artifice there may be associated in a gi-eat re- public those things that appear incapable of association— equality, and submission to the mairistrates ; a beneficial agitation inopinion and discussion, and a constant, immoveable order ; a government whose power may always be absolute over individuals and the multitude, and still amenable to the nation ; an executive power whose outward forms and pomp, of an useful splendour, may always support the idea of tlie majesty of the republic, but never that of the greatness of an individual. On the same side I saw seated the men most fully versant in those doctrines of political economy which teach the policy of opening and enlarging the channels of private and of national wealth ; of composing the public treasury of such contributions as the fortune of each individual owes to it ; of creating new sources and new channels of productiveness to private capital by a skilful use of what it has poured into the coffers of the state ; of protect- : ing and leaving without restrictions all kinds of industry, without favouring any in particidar ; of viewing large jxissessions not as unfruitful lakes, which absorb and hold all the tributary streams that pour from the mountains, but as reservoirs necessary for the I purjioses of multiplying and improving the germs of universal fecundity, and of distributing them by degrees over localities which would have otherwise remained in unproductiveness and sterility— admirable doctrines, which introduced liberty into arts and commerce before it liad penetrated into governments, but pccidiarly fitted by their essence to the spirit of repviblics, they b. ing alone capable of giving a solid foundation to equality, not in a general /rwialiti/ always violated, and which fetters the desires uifinitcly less than industry, but in an universal compe- tence, in those labours, the ingenious variety and continual re- vival of which can alone occupy, auspiciously for liberty, that turbulent activity of democracies which, after having long tor- mented, finally caused the downfall of the ancient republics, amidst the storms and tempests in which their atmosphere was always enveloped. On the right side were five or six men whose genius was com- petent to originate these great theories of the social and econo- mical orders, and a considerable number of men capable of imdcrstanding and diffusing them. It was there, likewise, that certiiin spirits were ranged, fonnerly distinguished for impetuo- sity and violence, but who, after describing and exhausting the entire circle of demagogical passions, now a.spired simply to dis- credit and combat the follies they themselves had propagated. There, finally, were seated, like devotees kneeling at the foot of the altar, those men, whom subdued p:issions, a moderate lor- HISTORY OF THE FKENCH REVOLUTION. 191 The assembly had passed to the order of tlie day upon the respective accusations of the two parties, but had maintained tlie decree of the previous day. Thus three points i-eniained tixed: 1st, To retiuire from the minister of the interior a faithful and exact account of tlie state of Taris ; 2d, To frame a project of law against instigators to murder and pillage ; and, 3d, To devise the means of assembling a departmental guard around the National Convention. The energy and spirit with which the report upon the state of Paris woidd be characterised was well known, since it was intrusted to Roland ; and the committee chargeil with the two projects agauist written instigations, and for the establishment of a guard, mspired equal confiden.ce, inasmuch as it was entirely composed of Girondists. Buzot, Lasource, and Kersaint, were members of it. It was against the two latter objects that the Moun- taineers were especially inveterate. They asked whe- ther it were intended to repeat the proclamation of martial law and the massacre of the Champ-de-lMars, and whether the convention designed to give itself satellites and body-guards like the last king. They thus revived, as the Girondists upbraided them, all the reasons alleged by the court against the camp below Paris. Many members of the left side, even the most ardent, were, in their capacity of deputies of the convention, decisively inimical to the usurpations of the commune ; and, with the exception of the deputies of Paris, no one defended it when attacked, which occurred almost d£tily. Thus decrees were passed m rapid succession. As the commune delayed to adopt steps for its own renewal, in execution of the decree prescribing the re- election of all the iwlministrative bodies, the executive councd was ordered to sujierintend its reconstruction, and render an account of the same to the assembly within three days. A commission of six members was named to receive declarations from all those who had deposited etiects at the town-hall, and to ascertain the existence of those effects, or the purposes to which the municipality had appUed them. The directory of the department, -which the insurrectional commime had reduced to the title and the functions of a simple admi- nistrative commission, was restored to all its preroga- tives, and resumed its title of directory. The communal elections for appointing a mayor, and the members of the mmiicipality and the council-general, which the Jacobins had recently determined to make viva voce, as a means of intimidating the faint-hearted, were rendered secret by a fresh confirmation of the existing law. The elections already made according to that illegal mode were anmdled, and the sections submitted to re-commence them in the prescribed form. It was finally decreed that all the prisoners confined without a warrant of arrest should be forthwith discharged. This was a heavy blow levelled at the committee of sur- veillance, whose rage was principally directed against persons. All these decrees were passed during the first days of October, and the commune, thus vigorously assailed, found itself compelled to bend beneath the ascendancy of the convention. However, the committee of sur- tune, and an education which had not been neglected, prepared to illustrate, by all the private virtues, a republic wliit-h per- mitted them to enjoy their tranquillity, then- easy and kindly life, and their possessions. Turning ray eyes from this right side to the left, fixing them upon the Jlountain, what a contrast struclc mo ! Tliere I beheld a man working with the utmost turbulence, to whom a visage tinged with a copper dye gave the appearance of one sprung from the bloody caverns of the anthropophagi or the burning threshold of hell ; in whom, by his convulsive, aljrupt, and broken step, you recognised one of those assassins who have escaped the exe- cutioner but not the Furies, and who seem willing to anniliilate the human race for the sake of escaping the terror witli which the sight of every man inspires them. Under the despotism, wliich he had not covered with blood as he had done liberty, this man had been possessed with the ambition of making a revolution in the sciences ; and he had attacked, in audacious and contemp- tible systems, the greatest discoveries of modern times and of human intelligence. His eyes, wandering over the history of the world, had paused upon the lives of four or five grand extermi- nators, who converted cities into deserts, in order afterwards to repeople the deserts with a race formed after their own likeness, or after that of tigers— such was all he had retained of the annals of nations, all that he knew or wished to imitate of them. By an instinct similar to that of wild beasts, rather than from a perception of human perversity, he had discerned to how many follies and crimes it was possible to hurry an immense nation whose religious and political chains had just been snapped asimder ; it was that idea which dictated all his writings, all his words, all his actions. And his full was reserved to the poniai'd of a woman ! and more than fifty thousand statues of him were erected in the republic ! Ky his side were drawn men who would not of themselves have conceived such atrocities, but who, cast with him, by an act of extreme temerity, into events the critical import of which un- nerved them, and wliose dangers made them tremble, even whilst disavowing the maxims of the monster, h:id probably already followed them, and were not indisposed to allow the fear to ])revail that they might follow them again. They held Marat in horror, but they felt no repugnance in making uso of him. Tliey placed him in the midst of them, they put him in tlie fore- ground, they carried him, as it were, upon their breasts, like a head of Medusa. As the terror such a man inspired was every where, so ho himself was thought every where visible ; he was in some sort believed to be the whole Mountain, or the whole Mountain to be like him. Amongst the leaders, in fact, there were several who reproved the crimes of Marat only as they were Bomewhat too glaring and avowed. Hut amongst those very leaders (and hero truth compels mo to disbent from the opinions of many honest men), amongst the leaders themselve? were many men who, connected with the others greatly more by events than by sentiment, cast many a look and a regret towards justice and himianity ; who would have displayed numerous virtues, and rendered numerous services, if at any instant they had been deemed capable of such manifesta- tions or actions. To the Mountain repaired, as to military posts, those who abundantly possessed the passion, but scantily the theory, of liberty ; those who believed equality menaced, or even broken, by dignity of sentiment and elegance of language ; those who, reared in hovels or workshops, refused to recognise a repub- lican except in the costume they themselves wore ; those who, entering for the first time into the career of the revolution, found it incumbent on them to signalise that impetuosity and violence which had originated the glory of almost all the great revolu- tionists ; those who, still young, and formed rather to serve the I'epublic in the armies than m the sanctuary of the laws, having seen the republic take birth amidst the roar of tlumder, believed that it was always amidst the roar of thunder it behoved them to preserve it and promulgate its decrees. To this left side also resorted, seeking an asylum rather than a position, several of those deputies who, having been reared in the proscribed castes of nobility and priesthood, although always unsullied, were per- petuallj' exposed to suspicions, and fled to the top of the Moun- tain to avert the accusation of not having attained the requisite elevation of principles. Thither proceeded, too, to feed upon their suspicions and live in the midst of chimeras, those solemn and melancholy characters who, having observed falsehood too often united with politeness, believed in virtuconly when gloomy, and in liberty only when savage. There sat, also, certain spirits who had contracted in the exact sciences surliness as well as prcciscness, and who, proud of possessing knowledge immediately applicable to the mechanical arts, were well pleased to bo sepa- rated by position, as by disdain, from those men of letters and philosophers whose accomplishments are not so promptly service- able to weavers and forgers, and reach individuals only after having enlightened the entire society. There, finally, were in- evitably moved to vote, whatsoever might be in otlier respects their avocations and talents, all those who, by the overstrained workings of their character, were disposed to go beyond, rather than remain within, the limit whiih niiglit have been assigned to the revolutionary enei'gy and mania. Such was the idea 1 formed to myself of the elements composing the two sides of the coiwention. Judging each side by the majority of its elements, both, in (liflcrent kinds and degrees, infallibly appeared to me capable of rendering great services to the republic : the right side in orga- nising the interior with wisdom and dignity ; the left side in im- parting from their own souls into those of all the French, those republican and popular passions so necessary to a nation assailed on all sides by the herd of kings and the soldiery of Europe." 192 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. veillance had resolved not to be discomfited without a show of resistance. Its members had accordingly presented themselves at the bar of the assenil)ly, say- ing that they came to confound their adversaries. Possessing the papers found at the house of Laporte, intendant of the civil list, and condemned, as the reader will recollect, by the tribunal of tlie 17th August, they had discovered, they alleged, a letter iu wliich was mentioned how niucli certaui decrees had cost, passed in the preceding assemblies. They were prepared to unmask the deputies sold to the cf)urt, and demon- strate the hoUowness of tlieir patriotism. "Name them ! " the assembly exclaimed, indignantly. " We cannot yet do so," replied tlie members of the commit- tee. A commission of twenty-four deputies was inune- diatelv nominated, all unconnected with the Consti- tuent and Legislative Assemblies, charged, as a means of rebutting the calunni}', to investigate those papers and give in a report of their contents. Marat, the inventor of tliis exi)edient, published in his journal that he had " paid the liolaridists," the accusers of the connnune, " in their own coin" and he announced tlie pretenderovinces to know if the deputies of their departments had sought to be enrolled and were assiduous in their attendance. The wealthy of tlie capital strove to have their opulence pardoned by going to the Jacobins' and covering tlieir heads with the red cap; and their equi- pages ])locked the duors of that chosen abode of etina- lity. Whilst the hall was filleil with the imdtitude of its members, whilst the galleries were overflowing with peojile, an immense crowd, mingling with the eipii- ]>ages, waited at the door, and demanded admission with loud cries. Sometimes this crowd grew irritated, esiiecialiy when rain, so fre(|iient in Ww climate of Paris, increased tlie annoyance of waiting ; and tlien some member moved tlie admission of l/ic good people suffering .at the doors of the hall. Marat was fre- quently accustomed to make such propositions ; and when admission was granted, sometimes before, a jirodigious concourse of men and women inundated the iiall and mixed promiscuously with the members. It was towards the close of day that the club met. The 166 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. angry feelings, aroused and kept down in the conven- tion, were brought there to find free vent. The late hour, the multitude of persons present, all contributed to excite the niind; often tlie sitting, being prolonged, degenerated hito a frightful tumult ; and at such times the agitators derived for the morrow the courage necessary for the most audacious enterprises. Yet this society, so far advanc'cd in the demagogical career, was not wliat it afterwards l)ei'ame. The equipages ; ' of tliose wlio came to abjure the incqualitj' of condi- ] tions were still allowed at the door. Some members ■ had made fruitless elforts to speak with their hats on, '•■ but they had been obliged to uncover. Brissot, it is i ; true, had l)een recently excluded by a solemn decision, I ' but Petion continued to preside there amidst acclama- tions. Chabot, CoUot-d'IIerbois, Fabre-d'Eglantine, were the favourite orators. IMarat was still viewed as something strange; and Chabot said, in the language of the place, that Alarat was a porcupine tlmt could not be grasped at any point. i)umouriez was received by Danton, who presided at the sitting: vehement applause greeted him, and his presence amongst them procured his pardon for the supposed friendship of the Oirondists. He uttered a few words suitable to the occasion, and promised, " before the end of the month, to march at the head of sixlij thousand men, for the purpose of attacking kings and rescuing nations from tyranny." Danton, answering in analogous style, said to him that, rallying the French in the camp of Sainte-IMenc- hould, he had deserved well of the country; but tliat a new career was opening for him; that hcAvas destined to make crowns fall before the red cap ^vith whicli the society had honoured him, and that his name woidd in that case shine amongst the most renowned in the history of France. CoUot-d'lIerbois afterwards ad- dressed hhn, and treated him to a discourse which exliibits at once the jtrevalent language of the era, and the sentiments entertained towards the general at that particular nn)ment.* * I deem it incumbent on me to subjoin such notes as appear to me valuable, both as elucidating facts little known and wrongly appreciated, and as records of a style and language at present utterly forgotten, but nevertheless extremely characteristic. They are, for the most part, taken from sources wholly overlooked, and chiefly from the debates of the Jacobin Club, a political monument equally rare and curious. SPEECH OP COLLOT-d'hERBOIS TO DU.VOI'RIEZ, AFTER THE CAJIPAIGN OF THE ARGON'.VE. {.Extracteii from Ike Journal of the Jacobins.) (SrTTI.VO OF SUNDAY 14TH OCTOnER, YEAR FIRST OF THE REPUBLIC.) " I wished to speak of our armies, and I con.gratulate myself on spe.-iking of them in presence of tlic soldier you have just heard. I might blame the answer of the president : I have alraidy re- peatedly affirmed that the president ought never to answer members of the society ; but he h;is replied to all the soldiers of the army. That reply convoys to all an empliatic testimony of your satisfaction ; Dumouriez will share it with all his brethren in arms, for he knows tlwt without tliem his glory would be as a thing that was not. We must accustom ourselves to this lan- guage. Dumouriez has done his duty : in that is his best recom- pense. It is not because he is a general that I praise him, but because he is a French soldier. Is it not true, general, that it is glorious to command a repub- lican army ? — tliat thou hast found a material difference between such an army and those of despotism ? They have not only br.ivery, our French— they are not contented with spurning death merely— for who is there that fears death ? But tliose inliabi- tjints of Lille and Thionville, who await heated balls with calm indifference, who remain unmoved amidst the bursting of shells and the confl.agration of their homes— is there not in this the de- velopment of all the virtues? Ah, yes ! those virtues are superior to all triumphs! A new mode of waging war is now invented, and our enemies will not discover it : tyrants will be powerless for evil so long as there are free men determined upon defence. A great niunber of brotliers are dead combating for liberty ; they are dejid, but their memory is dear to us ; tliey have left examples which live in our he:irts : but do those live who attacked " It is not a king who has nominated thee, oh Du- mouriez, but thy fellow-citizens. Remember that a general of the republic ought never to serve any but it alone. Tliou hast heard of Themistocles : he liad just saved Greece at Salamis ; but, calumniated by his enemies, he was driven to seek an asylum with tyrants. They made him offers to serve against liis comitry; for answer, he plunged liis sword into liis heart. Dumoiu-iez, thou hast enennes — thou wilt be calumniated : remember Themistocles ! Enslaved nations await thee to aid them: thou wilt speedily deliver them. How glorious a mission ! I nmst warn tliee, however, against any excess of gene- rosity towards thy enemies. Thou hast e.icorted back the King of Prussia a little too much after the French fashion. But we will hope that Austria wUl have a double measure dealt out to her. Thou wUt go to Brussels, Dumouriez 1 have no- thing to say to thee. But, if thou sliouldst find there an execral)le woman, wlio, under tlie walls of LiUe, came to feast her ferocity with the spectacle of red- hot balls ! But that woman will not stay for thee. At Brussels, liberty is about to revive under thy steps. Citizens, maidens, matrons, children, wiU press us ? No : they have bit the dust, and their coliorts are hut heaps of lifeless bodies, putrefying where they battled ; they arc but a putrid stench tlie air of liberty will scarcely purify. Tliat host of strolling skeletons resembles the skeleton of t>Tanny ; and, like it, they will speedily succumb. AVliere are tliose veteran generals of liigli renown ? Tlieir sliadows vanish before the all-puissant geuius of liberty : they fly, and find only dungeons as a retreat ; for dungeons will soon be the only palaces of despots : they fly, because nations are arisen. I It is not a king who has named thee, Dumouriez, but thy fellow - citizens. Remember, that a general of the republic must never treat with tyrants ; remember, that generals like thee must never serve aught but liberty. Thou hast heard of Tliemistoeles : he had just saved the Greeks by the battle of Salamis ; he was calumniated (thou hast enemies, Dumouriez ; tliou wilt be calumniated ; it is tlierefore I speak to tlice) : Themistocles was calumniated ; he was unjustly condemned by his countrjinen ; he found an asylum in the abode of tyrant? ; but he was still Themistocles. He Avas asked to hear arms against his native land. ' My sword shall never serve tyrants,' he replied, and plunged it in his heart. I remind thee, also, of Scipio. Antiochus strove to seduce that great man by offering to restore him a precious hostage, his otati son. Scipio answered, ' Thoii hast not wealth enough to buy my conscience, and nature has nothing superior to the love of country.' Nations are groaning in slavery : thou wilt speedily set them free. How glorious a mission ! Success is not doubtful : the citizens who await thee are eager to hail thee ; and those who are here urge thee onward. Tliou art open to reproach, however, for certain excesses of generositj' towards thy foes ; thou hast escorted back the King of Prussia a little too much after the French fashion— I mean the old French fashion (applause). But, we will hope, Austria will pay a double penalty : she is opulent ; do not spare her ; thou canst not make her pay too highly for tlie outrages her race has inflicted on the human species. Thou gocst to Brussels, Dumouriez (applause) ; thou wilt pass Courtray. Tliere the French name has been profaned ; a gener.al abused the confidence of a nation ; the traitor Jarry buiTied hou*s. Hitherto I have sjiokeii only to thy courage, now I sjic-ik to thy heart. Bear in mind those unfortunate inhabitants of Courtray ; belie not their hopes this time ; promise them the justice of the nation ; the nation will not disavow thee. When thou art at Brussels — I have nothing to say to thee upon the conduct thou hast to pursue ; if thou shouldst find there an execrable woman, who, under thfl walls of LUle, came to gloat her ferocity with the spectacle of heated halls but that woman will not wait for tliee. If thou slionMst find her, she will be thy ]>risonor ; we have others, also, who are of her stock ; tliou wilt send her here; let her be so shaved, at least, that a peruke will not again fit her. At Brussels, liberty is about to revive under thy auspices. An entire people will give way to rapture ; thou wilt restore children to tlieir parents, wives to their husbimds; the spectacle of their bliss will repay all thy labours. Children, citizens, maidens, matrons, all will press around tliee— all will embrace thee as their father ! What felicity is in store for thee, Dumouriez ! BIy wife — she is from Brussels ; she also wiU embrace thee." This diiicoiu'se was repeatedly intennipted by loud clieers. niSTOUY OF TnE FrtENCII REVOLUTION. 197 around thee. What felicity there is in store for thee, Dumonriez ! My wife — she is fi-om Brussels; she also wiU embrace thee ! " Danton then left with Dumouriez, whom he had appropriated as it were, and to whom he rendered the honours of the republic. Danton having manifested at Paris a firmness analogous to that of Dxmiouriez at Sainte-Menehoidd, they were l(joked iipon as tlie two saviours of the revolution, and were jointly applauded at all the public places they visited. A certain in- stinct drew these men together, notwithstanLling the discrepancy of their pursuits. They were libertines of the two systems of thuigs, associating from an iden- tical bent and taste for pleasure, but distinct in the order of their corruption. Danton's was that of the people, Dumom-iez's that of courts ; but more happy than his coUcague, the latter had alwaj's served in a noble s]ihere and with arms in his hands, whilst Dan- ton had the misfortune to have sidlied a great cha- racter by the atrocities of September. Those brilliant saloons, where celebrated men for- merly enjoyed their glory — wliere, during the last cen- tury, Voltaire, Diderot, D'Alembert, Kousseau, were listened to and applauded — such saloons were no longer in existence. There remamed the simple and select society of Madame Roland, where all the Girondists assembled — the handsome Barbaroux, the wittyLouvet, the grave Buzot, the brilliant Guadct, the captivating Vergniaud •, and where still reigned polite language, instructive conversation, and elegant and polished manners. The nunisters met there t^i'ice in the week, and partook of a repast composed of a single course. Such was the new republican society, which united with the graces of the olden France the seriousness of the modern, and which, alas ! was speedily in its tm-n to disappear before demagogical grossness. Dumouriez was present at one of these simple banquets : at first he felt some constraint at sight of those old friends whom he had chased from the ministry, and of that woman who, in his eyes, was too severe, whilst to her he appeared too licentious ; but he sustained the ordeal with his accustomed spirit, and was greatly moved at the unaffected cordiality of lloland. After the society of the Girondists, that of the artists was the only one which liad survived the dispersion of the ancient aris- tocracy. Almost all the artists had warmly embraced a revolution which avenged them for high-born dis- dain, and which pronased distinction to merit and genius alone. They in turn entertained Dumouriez, and gave a feast in his honour, at which were assem- bled all the talents the metropolis could boast. But in the midst of that same festivtd, a strange occiUTence happened to interrupt its harmony, and excite equtd < astonishment and disgust. I ]Marat, always ready to take the initiative in revo- 1 lutionary doubts, was not satisfied M'ith the general. j The furious denouncer of all men enjoying public ! favour, he had invariably provoked, by his outrageous i invectives, the odium incurred by the popular leaders. I Mirabeau, Bailly, Ijafayette, Betion, the Girondists, j had all been exjmsed to his abuse even when standing I I'ighest in popularity. Since the 10th August more especially, he had given full scoi)e to the monstrous conceptions of liis brain ; and, altliough a loathsome I olyect in the eyes of rational and worthy men, and I strange at the least in those of heated revolutionists themselves, he luid been encouraged by certain evi- den('es of success. Consecpientiy, he soon l)egan to look upon iiimsclf as a public man, essential to the new order of things, lie passed a great portion of his time in collecting rumours, in diffusing them in his newspaper, and in scouring tiie ofticcs on his self-im- posed mission of redressing the wrongs of administra- tors towards the people. IMaking the pul)lic the con- fidant of his mode of life, he said one day, in one of his sheets,* that his occupations were overwhelming ; that * Journal of tlie I'^iench Republic, No. 03. Wednesday, Otli January 17U3. I : out of the twenty-four nours in the day, he gave but two to sleep, and only one to the taljle and domestic concerns ; that besides the hom-s consecrated to his duties as a deputy, he regidarly employed six in gather- ing and enforcing the complaints of a multitude of the wretched and oppressed ; that he devoted the remain- ing hours to perusing and answering numerous letters, Avriting his observations upon events, receiving denun- ciations, satisfying himself of the veracity of his infer- ! mants ; finallj^, in composing his journal and super- intending the publication of a great ■\\ork. For three years, he said, he had not taken a quarter of an hour's recreation ; and we tremble as we think of what so disturbed an intellect, acting with so inordinate an activity, might produce in a revolution. INIarat pretended to see in Dumouriez only an aris- tocrat of depraved mamiers, against whom it was pru- dent to be on guard. To increase his venom, he learnt that Dmnom-iez had recently proceeded Avith tlie ut- most rigour against two battalions of volunteers who had massacred some emigrant deserters. He instantly repaired to the Jacobins', denounced the general from their tribune, and moved that two commissioners be sent to interrogate liim on h.is conduct. To hiinselt were added two persons, named Montaut and Benta- bolle ; and upon the instant he proceeded on his mission, accompanied by them. Dmnouriez was not at his own residence. ]\Iarat hastened to various places of amuse- ment, and ultimately learnt that Dumouriez was pre- sent at an entertainment given to him by the artists, at the house of Madame CandeUle, a celebrated woman of those days. INIarat scrupled not to proceed thither, in spite of his filthy dress. The equipages, the detach- ments of the national guard which he met at the dqoj of the house where the feast was celebrated, the pre- sence of the commander Santerre, and of a great many deputies, and all tlie manifestations of a festive meet- ing, aggravated his wrath. He boldly advanced, and requested to see Dmnom'iez. A sort of rmnour arose at his apiiroach. His name being announced, caused a multitude of visages suddenly to disappear, flying, as he said, his accusing glance, ^^'alking dnectiy up to Duniom-iez, he lovidly called him by name, and de- manded an account of the punishment inflicted on tlie two battalions. The general surveyed him, and said to him witli a contemptuous sneer, " Ah ! you are he whom they call Marat ! " He again examined him from head to foot, and turned his back upon him, without saying another Avord. However, the Jacobins who accompanied Slarat appearing more modest and discreet, Dumouriez vouchsafed certain explanations to them, and dismissed them satisfied, ilarat, who was not so, uttered loud cries in the antechambers ; upbraided Santerre, who performed, he said, the func- tions of a lackey to the general ; declaimed finiously against the national guards, who contributed to the pomp of the feast ; and finally withdrew, threatening with his wrath all the aristocrats present at the en- tertainment. He ran Avith all speed to describe in his journal this rim nature seems to have wittingly set the mai'k of her reprobation."" 204 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. diately proposed foiu energetic and ably devised de- crees. By the first, the capital w.os to lose the right of having the nation;d representation lield witliin its walls, when it should be unable to protect it from insidts or vioh'uce. By the second, the federalists and tlie national gen- darmes were, concurrently "itli the armed sections of Paris, to guard the natiomd representation and tiie public establishments. By the tliird, the convention was to resolve itself into a court of justice to try c()asi)irators. By the fourth, the convention dissolved the munici- pality of Paris. These four decrees were perfectly adapted to the circumstances, and appropriately fitted to meet the actual dangers of the moment ; hut all the power was needed to pass them which woidd have resulted from the decrees themselves. To create the means of energy, energy itself is requisite^ and every moderate party attempting to keep a violent party in check, is in a baneful eutanglement from which it never can get free. Doubtless, the majority, leaning towards tlie Giron- dists, might have passed the decrees; but it was its moderation which induced its bias in their favour, and that moderation counseHed it to wait, to temporise, to rest upon the future, and to shun every measure too prematurely decisive. The assembly even rejected a decree infinitely less offensive, namely, the first of those which had been remitted for preparation to the com- mittee of nine. It referred to instigators of murder and pillage; and Buzot introduced it. By the enact- ment as proposed, all direct instigation was punished with death, and indirect provocation with ten years in irons. The assembly found the punishment too severe on direct instigation, and indirect too vaguely defined and too difficult to reach. Buzot vainly argued that revolutionary, and consequently arbitrary, measures were indispensable agauist the adversaries the republic had to combat; he was not heeded, and could scarcely be so when addressmg a majority which condemned in the violent party those very revolutionary measures, and wliieli was consequently, to a certain extent, de- barred from employing them against it. The decree was accordingly deferred; and the committee of nine, appointed to advise on the means of maintamiug wholesome order, became to all efficient pui'^wses null and void. The assembly, however, exhibited a somewhat greater degree of energy in reference to the question of repressing the encroachments of the commune. It then seemed to defend its authority with a species of jealousy and vigour. The council-general of the com- mune, ordered to the bar on account of tlie petition against the project of a departmental guard, appeared to justify itself It was no longer, it said, the eomnmne of the 10th August. Certain prevaricators had crept in amongst its members, whom good reasons had existed for denouncing; but sucli men were no longer to be foimd at its board. " Do not confound the inno- cent with the guilty," it added. " Vouchsafe us the confidence which we so much need. AVe are anxious to restore the tranquillity necessary to the convention for tlie enactment of good laws. With regard to the presentation of this petition, it was the sections which insisted ni)on it, and we are nierel\' their mandatories ; but we will urge them to forego it." This submission disarmed the Girondists themselves; and, on the motion of Gensonne, the honours of the sitting were granted to the council-general. Tlie dignity of the convention might he vindicated by such docility on the part of tlie municipal administrators, but it gave no assurance as to the real disjiositions of the capital. The excitement increased into tumult as the 5th November drew nigh, the day fixed for hearing I\i)lH'S[)it'rre. Tlie day before there were com- motions in diflerent interests. Bands traversed the Streets of Paris, some sliouting, " To the guillotine with Robespierre, Danton, Marat ! " others crjnng, "Death to Roland, Lasoiu-ce, Guadet!" Complaints of these cries were made at the Jacobins', but only of those directed against Robespierre, Danton, and Marat. The soldiers and federalists, who were as j'et devoted to the convention, were charged with these vocifera- tions. The younger Robespierre again presented him- self in the trilmne, breaking fortli into lamentations on the perils of innocence, and repudiating a sugges- tion of conciliation hazarded by a member of the so- ciety, saying that the opposite party was decidedly counter-revolutionary, and that neither peace nor truce ought to be observed with it. He allowed that innocence was sure to perish in the contest, but that tlie sacrifice was fitting; that IMaximilian Robespierre should be permitted to succun)b, because the loss of a single man would not involve that of liberty. All the Jacobins applauded these fine sentiments, but at the same time consoled the younger Robespierre Avith the assurance that such things could not be, and that his brother would not perish. Very diflerent were the grievances alleged in the assembly, where the shouts against Roland, Lasource, Guadet, &c., were denounced. Roland complained of the inutility of his requisitions to the department and the commune for an armed force. Long and desidtory discussions, bitter and acrimonious recriminations, ensued ; and the day ela])sed without any measure being adopted. On the morrow, the ,5th November, Robespierre at length appeared, and took liis station in the tribune. Intense anxiety was manifested as to the issue of this solemn discussion, and the assembly's hall was early filled. The speecli of Robespierre was voluminous and carefully digested. His rejoinders to the accusations of Louvet were such as have never failed to be made on similar occasions. " You accuse me," said he, " of aspiring to the tyranny ; but, to gain that height, means are essential, and where are my treasures and my armies ? You allege that I have reai'cd the edifice of my power in the Jacobin Club. But what does that circumstance prove ? jMerely that I have been there more heeded, have addressed myself possibly better than you to the reason of that society, and that you seek to avenge here the pangs of womided seK-love. You pretend that this celebrated society has degene- rated ; but demand a decree of impeachment against it, and I will assume the task of justifjing it, and we shall see whether j^ou will be more fortunate or more l)ersuasive than Leopold and Lafayette. You assert that I did not appear at the commune until two days after the 10th August, and that I tlien installed my- self of my own authority on its bench. But I was not summoned thither earher ; and when I presented my- self at the table, it was not to install mj-self, but to have my powers verified. You add tliat I insulted the IjCgislative Assembly, that I menaced it with the tocsin ; the charge is false. 8ome one sittuig near me accused me of sounding the tocsin : I replied to the internieddler, tliat the ringers of the tocsin were those who embittered the public mind by injustice; andthere- njion one of my colleagues, less reserved, observed that it woidd be sounded. Such is the solitaiy fact upon whicji my accuser has erected this faille. In the elec- toral assembly I certainly spoke, but it was agreed that citizens might be heard ; I offered a few observations, and several exercised tlie same privilege. I neither accused nor recommended any individual. The man whom you charge me with using as my instrument, iSlarat, was never either my friend or my caiuUdatc. If I judged him by those who assail hiin, he wouhl stand accjuitted; but I give no opinion. I will merely state that he was always unknown to me ; that he once came to my liouse, when I addressed to him some remarks on his writings — on their exaggerated tone, and on the pain with wliicli jiatriots saw him compro- mise our cause bj' the violence t)f Ids opinions ; but he deemed me a politltian of confined views, and pub- HISTORY OF THE FEENCH REVOLUTION. 2{<5 lished that estimate the following day. It is there- fore a calumny to allege me the instigator and the idly of that man." Passmg from these personal charges to the general accusations levelled against the conniiune, Robespierre repeated, with all its advocates, that the 2d September was the continuation of the 10th August: that the precise limit to which the waves of a popidar insur- rection may siu'gc can never be assigned; that the executions were doubtless illegal, but that withoiit illegal measures despotism could not have been shaken otf ; that the same reproach might be made against the whole revolution, for all its acts were illegal — the pro- stration of the throne, the captm-e of the Bastille. He subsequently depicted the dangers of Paris, the indignation of its citizens, their llocking round the prisons, and their inordinate fury at the reflection that they were leaving cons])irators behind them to exter- minate their families. " We are assured that one in- nocent person perished," exclaimed tlie sjjeaker with emphasis — " one only ; it was doubtless a great deal too many. Citizens ! deplore that cruel error ! We have long deplored the man ; he was a good citizen — one of oiu' friends! Weep even for the victims who ought to have been reserved for the vengeance of the laws, but who fell under the sword of popular justice ! But let your grief have a term, like all human con- cerns. Let lis spare a few tears for calamities more attecting — weep for a hundred thousand patriots im- molated by tyranny — weep for our citizens expiring under their burning roofs, and the infants of citizens massacred in the cradle or in the arms of their mothers — weep, in short, for humanity crushed be- neath the yoke of tyrants ! But be consoled, Avhen, silencing all the brutal passions, you aspire to assert the happiness of yoiu' country, and to prepare the way for that of the world. The sensibility which grieves almost exchisively for the enemies of liberty, is to me suspicious. • Cease to flutter before my eyes the bloody robe of the tyrant, or I shall believe you intend to replunge Rome into slavery!" It was by this mixture of cunning logic and revo- lutionary declamation, that Robespierre succeeded in captivating his audience, and obtaining miiversal plaudits. All that he had said respecting himself was correct ; for there was great imprudence on the part of the Girondists in stigmatising as a project of usur- pation a mere desire of influence, rendered odious, cer- tainly, by an envious character ; and there was the like imprudence in pretending to discover, in the acts of the commune, proofs of a vast conspiracy', \\hen they were but the natural consequences of i^opular passions in high excitement. The Girondists thus afforded the assemlily an occasion for charging them with wrong as against their adversaries. Flattered, so to speak, at seeing the alleged leader of the consj)ira- tors reduced to justify himself; delighted at finding all the crimes exijlained away by being charged on an insurrection whicli coidd not again recur; and charmed with the vision of a better futm-e, the convention deemed it consistent M-ith dignity and prudence to consign all these y)ersonal demmciations to oblivion; and accordingly tlic order of tlie day was fortlnvitii moved. Louvet instantly sprang forward to o])pose the motion, and to claim his right of reply. A num- ber of members simultaneously rose, all eager to speak for, upon, or against, the order of the day. Barbaroux, despairing to make himself heard, rushed to the bar, that he might be listened to in tlie character of a jietitioucr at least. Lanjuinais projiosed that the debate shoidd proceed u])on the imjiortant questions involved in Boland's report. At leiigtii Barrcre siic- ceeded in ol)taining silence and leave to speak. '* Citi- zens," said he, " if there existed in the republic a man endowed with the genius of Caesar, or the audiu?ity of Cromwell — a man who, with the talents of Sylla, pos- sessed also his fonnidable means — if there were, indeed, here some legislator of commanding genius, of inordinate ambition, of profound sagacity ; a general, for example, his l)row bound with laurels, and retm-n- ing amongst you to impose laws upon you or trample on the riglits of the people, I shoidd be ready to move a decree of impeachment against such a personage. But that you shoidd confer that honour on creatures of the hour, on petty schemers of riots, on persons Avhose civic cro^vns are strewed with cypress leaves, is what I am unable to conceive !" This singular mediator proposed thus to preamble the order of the day : Considering that the National Convention ovght to attend only to the interests of the re- public. " 1 abjure your order of the day ! " exclaimed Robespierre, " if it contain a recital injurious to me !" The assembly idtimately adopted the order of the day simjily and unconditionally. The hall of the Jacobins was thronged that night to celebrate this victory, and Rol)espierre was received as a trimnphant hero. The instant he made his ap- pearance, the building shock with acclamations. A member moved that the tribune be given up to him, that he might gladden the club by the recital of so glorious a day. Another affirmed, as upon authority, that his modesty restrained him, and that he deeUned to speak. Robespierre, enjoying this enthusiasm in silence, left to a partisan the task of pronoimcing a sycophantic relation. He was called Aristides. His simple and manly elccjutnce was lauded with an affected rapture, which proved hoAv well his thirst of literary homage was miderstood. The convention was rein- stated in public opinion ; it had regained the esteem of the society ; and all proclaimed that the reign of truth was dawning, and that the clouds which had hovered over the safety of the republic were dispelled. Barrcre was called upon to explain the terms in which he had exjiressed himself with reference to petty schemers of riots ; and he completelj^ belied himself by affirming that he intended by those words to describe, not the true patriots accused with Robespierre, but their opponents. Thus finished this celel)rated accusation. It was an act of unquestionable imprudence. The entire con- duct of the Girondists is sunmied up in this proceed- ing. They were actuated by a generous indignation, I'nd expressed it with talent ; but therewith was mingled enough of personal resentment, of false con- jecture, of chimerical supposition, to supply those wlio loved to delude themselves with a pretext for not heeding them ; those wlio recoiled from an act of energy, with a motive for deferring it ; those, in fine, wlio atlected impartiality, Mith a phiusible reason for not adopting their cone lusions ; and these three classes composed the Plain. One amongst the Girondist deputies, however, the discerning I'etion, kept aloof from their exaggerations ; he published a speech he had prepared on the occasion, in which the whole sul)ject was most discreetly handled. "W-rgniaud, whom his fine intellect and scornful iudiflerence re- moved from the s])here of i)assion, was likewise exemjjt from their indiscretions, and he observed a profound silence. At the moment, the accusation of the Giron- dists had no other consequence than definitively rendering all reconciliation impossible, exhausting in a useless contest the most jiotent of their means, oratiirj' and indignant invective, and aggravating the hatrecl and i'nry of their enemies without obtaining for themselves a single additional resource. Wo to the vancpushed when the victors disagree! These afford a diversion to their own disputes, and they strive to outstriji each other in zeal for crushing their fillen foes. In the Temple were i)risoncrs u])on wlioni was destined to fall the tempest of revolutionary ])assion.s. The monarchy, the aristocrac,\, the avIkjJc past, in short, against wliich the revolution battled witli ferocity, were personified, as it were, in the un- fortunate Louis XVI. ; and the nuunier in which they slioidd treat the dethroned prini'e, became for each 206 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. the standard whereby hatred of counter-revolutionary tendencies was to be estimated. The Legislative As- sembly, too dependent on the constitution which de- clared the king inviolable, had not ventured to decide his fate ; it hud suspended his functions, and incarcer- ated him in tlie Temple; it had not even abolislicd royalty, but had bequeathed to a convention the task of dealing with the substance and the personality of the anticjuated monarcliy. Royalty abolislicd, a republic decreed, and the framing of a constitution intrusted to the meditations of the most distinguished minds in the assembly, the fate of Louis XVI. remained for discussion. Six weeks had elapsed, and multitu- dinous cares — the forwarding of su])plies, the consider- ation of military affairs, the subject of provisions, which were deficient at tliat time as in aU periods of commotion ; the police, and aU tlie details of govern- ment, wliich had been transferred, after the fall of roy- alty, to the executive council, with excessive chariness; and, histly, tlie violent quarrels — had still prevented the convention from attending to the prisoners in the Temple. Once the question had been started, and, as we have seen, the proposition was referred to the com- mittee of legislation. In the mean time, the subject itself was the theme of aU disco'arse. At the Jacobins' voices were daily raised, invoking judgment on the head of Louis XVI., and charging the Girondists with delaying it by quarrels, in which, however, each of that especiid auditor^' took quite as great a share and interest. On the 1st of November, dm'ing the inter- vid between the accusation of Kobespierre and his defence, a section liaving ajipearcd before the conven- tion to complain of fresh placards stimulating to mm'- der and msm-rection, the trial of Marat Avas demanded, as on that topic invariably happened. The Girondists insisted that he and some of his colleagues were the causes of all the disorders, and availed themselves of every new fact corrotiorating tiiat opinion to propose their prosecution. Their enemies, on the contrary, alleged that the cause of all the troubles was at the Temple ; that the new republic wotdd be consolidated, and tranquilhty and secm-ity reign, only when the late king should be sacrificed, and bj' that decisive lilow all hope taken away from the conspirators. Jean de Bry, the same deputy who had mamtained in the Legislative Assembly tliat tlie laic of public safety should be followed as the only rule of conduct, rose to sjwak upon this question, and recommended that ]Marat and Louis XVI. shoidd be both put upon their trial " ilarat," said he, " has earned tlie title of man-eater, and would have made an excellent king. He is the true cause of all the troubles of which Louis XVI. is made the pretext : let us try them both, and ensm^e the public repose by tliis double example." In conse- quence, the convention ordained that the report upon the denunciations against Marat slundd be presented before the sitting broke up, and that, within eight days at latest, the committee of legislation should render its opuiion upon t!ie forms to be observed in the trial of Louis XVI. ; declari^ig, furthermore, that if, after the eight days, the committee had not brought up its report, every member should be at liberty to occupy tlie tribune, and deliver his sentiments upon that important topic. New quarrels and new chstrac- tions delayed the report upon Marat, which indeed was not presented till long afterwards ; but the com- mittee of legislation gut ready its project touching the august and imfortunate family immured in the Temple. Europe had its eyes fixed at this moment on France. It contemplated with amazement those subjects, deemed at first so weak, now become victorious and trium- phant, and sufficiently hanly to hurl defiance at all tlirones. It awaited witli anxiety their coming deeds, and hoped their audacity would soon have an end. However, military events were progressing, which conduced to exidt their delirium, and greatly to aug- ment the surprise and terror of tlie world. CHAPTER XVL MILITARY OPERATIONS. VICTORY OF JEMAPPES. CONQUEST OF BELGIUM. DuMOURiEZ had departed for Belgium at the end of October, and reached Valenciennes on the 2.5th. His general ])lan was framed upon the idea which engrossed his mind, and consisted in pushing tlie enemy in front, and taking advantage of the great numerical superiority possessed over him. Dumouriez had it in his i)ower, by followuig the course of the Mouse with tiie greater part of his forces, to prevent the junction of Claii-fiiyt, wlio was proceeding from Champagne, take Duke Albert in the rear, and thus execute what he liad grossly erred in not doing at first, when lie ought to have pushed forward to the Rhine, and followed that river to Cleves ; but his plan was ditFerently or- ganised, and he preferred to a sagacious march a bril- liant action, which would raise the courage of his sol- diers, already greatly animated by the cannonade of Valmy, and correct the opinion entertained in Europe for the last fifty years, that the Frencli, liowever ex- cellent in impetuous attack, were incapable of achiev- ing a pitched battle. His superiority of numl>er sanc- tioned such an enterprise, and the idea had its pro- foundness, too, as well as the manoeuvres he has been censured for not employing. However, he did not overlook the important points of turning the enemy, and separating him from Clairfayt. Valence, posted for that purpose along the ileuse, was appointed to march from Givet upon Namm- and Liege, with the army of the Ardennes, 18,000 men strong. D'llar- vUle, with 12,000, had orders to manoeuvre between tlie grand army and Valence, in order to turn the enemy at a nearer point. Such were the thspositions of Dnmouriez on his right. On his lell, Laljourdonnaye was intended, takmg his departiue from Lille, to scour the coast of Flanders, and occupy all the maritime strongholds. On his arrival at Antwerp, he had direc- tions to skirt the Dutch frontier, and meet the Meuse at Riuemonde. Belgium being thus encompassed, Dumouriez occupied the centre of the circle witli a mass of 40,000 men, and m a position to overwhelm the enemy on the first point he shoidd attempt to cope with the French. Im2>atient to enter the field and open the glorious career for which his ardent imagination panted, Du- mouriez urged the arrival of the supplies prosnised him at Paris, and which ought to have reached Valen- ciennes on the 25th. Servan had quitted the war ministry, jireferring the less troubled functions of a military command to the chaos in which all admini- stration was involved. He re-estabhslied the vigour of his mind and his health in the camp of the Pyrenees. Koland had proposed and carried as liis successor, I'aclie, an unassuming, talented, and laborious man, wlio, having formerly quitted France to reside in Swit- zerland, had returned at the epoch of the revolution, sm'reiidered the warrant of a pension he drew from the Marshal de Castries, and distinguished himself in the office of the home department by a rare ability and application. Carrying in his pocket a piece of bread, and quitting his labours not even for the pur- poses of refreshment, he attended during entire days, and won the friendship of Poland alike by his manners and his ze;xl. Servan had solicited his translation during the arduous administration of August and September, and Roland had yielded to his wishes with regret, aiul only in consideration of the great import- ance of the labours of the war depai'tment at that jieriod. Pache rendered in his new post services e(i nail}' efficient as in the former; and when the place of minister-at-war became vacant, he was immediately proposed to fill it. as one of tliose obscure Imt invalu- able workmen, wlioin justice and the public interest shoidd, if consulted, have raised rapidly to distinction. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION, 207 Pache, affable and modest, Avas an universal favourite, and could not fail to be acceptable : tlie Girondists naturally relied upon the political moderation of a man so calm, so prudent, and moreover so indebted to them for fortune. The Jacobins, who found him bland and deferential towards them, extolled his mo- destj, and contrasted it with what they called the pride and harshness of Roland. Dumouriez, on his part, was charmed with a minister who promised to be more manaj^eable than the Girondists, and more disposed to aid his views. He had at this time fresh grievances against Roland. The latter had written a letter to him in the name of the council, in which he took him to task for assuming too imiierative a tone in urging his plans ujwn the ministry, and exhibited towards him a distrust, enhanced by the conviction of his superior talents. Roland, full of lo_yalty to the public service, combated in public what he had ad- vanced iu the secrecy of correspondence. Dumouriez, disregarding the honesty of Roland's intentions, made his complaints to Pache, who received them, and indem- nified him by his flatteries for the jealousies of his colleagues. Such, then, was the new minister of war : stantling between the Jacobms, the Girondists, and Dumouriez, listening to their res]^)ective grievances, be gained them all by his assurances and deference, and led them all to esteem him an ally and a friend. Dumouriez attributed the delay in forwarding sup- plies to his array to the change in the offices consequent upon a new ministry. Only the moiety of the pro- mised stores had arrived ; and he commenced his march without waiting for the remainder, writing to Pache, at the same time, that he must infallibly have sent to liini 30,000 pairs of shoes, 25,000 greatcoats, camp- materials for 40,000 men, and, above all, two miUious in specie, to furnish the soldiers with cash, because, entering a country where assignats were not current, they must necessarily pay in hard coin for all they should piu'chase. Every thing was jiromised; and Dumouriez, stirring t'ae ardour of his troops, encou- raging them with the prospect of a speedy and certain conquest, led them onward, although deficient m ne- cessaries for a winter campaign in a severe climate. Valence, retarded in his march by a diversion on Longwy, and by the total want of all military stores, which did not reach him tiU November, permitted Clairfiiyt to pass without obstacle from Luxumbourg into Belgium, and join Duke iVlbert with 12,000 men. Dumouriez, foregoing his intention of availing himself of Valence's aid, drew towards him the division of General d'Harville, and marching his troops between Quarouble and Quievrain, hastened to come up with the hostile army. Duke Albert, true to the Austrian system, had formed a cordon from Tournay to Mons ; and although he had 30,000 men, he assend)led scarcely 20,0(J0 before the town of Mons. Dumouriez, pressing on him closely, arrived on the 3d Noveml)er before the eminence of Boussu, and ordered his ad- vanced guard, commanded by the gallant Beurnon- ville, to dislodge the enemy posted on the heiglits. The attack was at first successful, but the Austrians rallying, the French were obliged to retire. Dumou- riez, aware how important success was at the com- mencement, sent Beurnonville back to the attack, carried, all tlu; enemy's i)osts, and, on tlie evening of the 3d, found bims.lf in presence of the Austrians, intrenched on the heights which skirt tlie town of Mons. On these heights, stretching semicircularly in front of tlic ])lace, were planted three villages, Jemaiipes, Cuesmes, and Uerthaimont. The ^Vustrians, in ex- pectation of being attacked, had formed the impruilcnt resolutiou of maintaining tliat position, and had for some time devoted the greatest pains to render it im- pregnable. Clairfayt occupied Jeniappcs and Cues- mes ; a little beyond, Beaulieu encamjied above Ber- thaimont. Rapid declivities, woods, felled trees, four- teen redoubts, a formidable artillery ranging in tiers, and 20,000 men, defended these positions, and rendered approach almost impra(ticat)le. Tyrolian riflemen lined t!ie woods which stretched below the heiglits. Tiie cavalry, stationed in the intervals between the hills, and principally in the hollow .sejjarating Je- niappcs from Cuesmes, was in readiness to debouch and fall on the French columns, when thrown into confusion by the fire of the batteries. It was in front of this camp, so strongly barricaded, that Dumouriez planted himself He drew up his army in a semicircle, parallel to tlie positions of the enemy. General D'Harville, who had eflected his junction with the main array on the evening of the 5th, was appointed to nianceuvi'e on the extreme right of the French line. By dawn on the 6th he was to skirt the positions of Beaulieu, essay to turn tlicm, and then occupy the heights behind Mons, the sole retreat of the Austrians. Beurnonville, forming the right itself of the French line, had orders to march on the village of Cuesmes. Tlie Dnke de Chartres,* who served in the army with the rank of general, and commanded in the centre that day, was to advance on Jemappes iu front, and endeavour at the same time to penetrate by the hollow which divided Jemappes from Cuesmes. Lastly, General Ferrand, intrusted with the command of the left, was directed to go through a little village called Quaregnon, and bear upon the flank of Je- mappes. All these attacks were intended to be exe- cuted in columns by battalions ; the cavalry stood ready to support them from behind and on the flanks. The artillery was posted so as to play on each redoubt in flank, and silence its fire if possible. A reserve of infantry and cavalry awaited the event beliuul the rivrdet of Wasme. During the night between the 5th and Cth, General Beaulieu recommended a sortie from the intrench- ments and a sudden attack upon the French, in order to disconcert them by an imexpected and nocturnal onslaught. This energetic counsel was not heeded; and on tlie 6th, at eight in the morning, the French were ui order of battle, full of courage and ardour, although exposed to a murderous fire and in sight of almost invidnerable intrenchraents. Sixty thousand men covered the field of oat tie, and one hundred jiieces of ordnance thundered in front of tlie two armies. The cannonade had commenced with the dawn. Dumouriez ordered Generals Ferrand and Beiu-non- viUe to begin the attack, the one on the left, the other on the right, whilst he himself awaited in the centre the moment for acting, and D'Harville, skirting the positions of Beaulieu, deployed to cut ofl' the retreat. Ferrand attacked faintly, and Beurnonville failed to silence the ^Vustrian fire. It was now eleven o'clock; and the enemy was not sufiicieiitly distressed on the flanks to risk an assaidt in front. Dmuouriez there- upon dispatched his faithfid Thouvenot to the left wing to decide the success. Tiiouvcnot, causing the use- less cannonade to cease, traversed (Quaregnon, turned Jemapjies, and at a brisk pace, witli l)ayoiiets fixed, scaled tlie height and arrived on thefiank of the Aus- trians. Dumouriez, ap])rised of this movement, re- solved to commence the attack in front, and moved the centre directly against .Icmaiipes. He made his in- fantry advance in colunms, and disposed his hussars and dragoons so as to cover the Iioilow lietweiMi Je- niapiies and Cuesmes, whence the enemy's cavalry was preparing to ciuirge. The French troops moved forward, and cleared with alacrity the ifiitervening space. A brigade, however, jierceiving the Austrian cavalry debouching i)y the hollow, wavered, recoiled, and cxjiosimI the flank oi' the columns. At this instant, the young Bajitiste Reiiard, a mere domestic of Du- mouriez, yielding to the inspiration of courage and intelligence, flew to tlie general of that brigatle, up- braided him with his weakness, demonstrated the cri- tical nature of the danger, and led him back to the ♦ [The present Kiiig of tho Fivncli.l 208 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. hollow. A certain hesitation was manifested in the ■fl-y.ole centre, and the battalions began to grow imeasy under tlie trailing fire from the batteries. The Duke de Chartres tlirew himsell' into the midst of the ranks, rallied them, formed around him a battalion wliich he called the battalion of Jemappes, and led it boldly against the enemy. Tlie battle was thus restored; and Clairfayt, although taken in flank and menaced in front, resisted nevertheless with heroic finnness. Dumouriez, witnessing all these movements, but doubtful of success, hastened to the right, where the contest was stiU undecided, in spite of Beurnonville's most strenuous efforts. His intention was to bring the attack to a speedy termination, or, failing, to fall back with the right wing, and use it to protect the retreat of the centre, should a retrograde movement become necessary. EeurnonviUe "had been making fruitless attempts against the village of Cuesmes, and was about to give up in despair, wlien Dampierre, Avho connnandtd a point of the assaiUt, took with him some companies and charged audaciously into tlie midst of a redoubt. Dumouriez came up at the very moment Dampierre was cxecTiting this gallant action ; he found tlie rest of the battalions without a leader, exposed to a de- structive fire, and wavering in presence of tlie imperiid hussars, on the point of charging them. These were the same battalions which, in the camp of Maulde, had formed so strong an attachment towards Duniouriez. He restored their confidence, and prepared them to hold firm against the hostile cavalry. A discharge within range checked that cavalry, and the hussars of Berchini, faUing opportunel3' on it, completed its dis- rx)nifitnre. Then Dumom-iez, putting himself at the head of his battalions, and chanting. with them the l^Iarseillese h}T.in, led them onwards, hiu-ried them to the intrenchnients, overthrew all before him, and cai'- ricd the village of Cuesmes. This exjjloit was scarcely achieved before Dimiou- riez, stiU anxioxis for the centre, galloped back in that direction, followed by a few squadrons. But whilst on the way, the young Duke de ilontpensier met him with tidings of the victory of the centre, owing principally to his brother the Duke de Chartres. Thus, Jemappes assailed in flank and front, and Cuesmes carried, Clairfayt could no longer ofier re- sistance, and was necessitated to retire. He conse- quently yielded the ground after a brave defence, and abandoned a dearly bought victory to Duniuuricz. His retreat took place at two o'clock ; the French troops, drooping with fatigue, craved a moment's repose ; Dumom-iez granted their request, and halted on the heights of .Jemappes and Cuesmes. He re- lied upon D'Harville for the inirsuit of the enemy; that general being charged to turn Berthaimont, and cut off the retreat of the Austrians. But his orders not being suflTiciently explicit, and being, furthermore, misunderstood, D'Harvilk; had remained in front of Berthaimont, and uselessly cannonaded its heights. Clairfayt accordingly fell back mider tlie wing of Beavilieu, who had not been engaged ; and both took the road to Brussels, Avhich D'Harville had left open 1 for them. \ The battle cost the Austrians 1500 prisoners, and 4500 dead or wounded. The loss of the French was nearly as great. Dumonriez disguised its extent, and confessed to only a few hundred men. He has been : censured for not having turned the enemy by march- I ing on his right, and thus taking him in the rear. ' instead of obstinately persisting in the attacks on the left and centre. The idea had occurred to him when he ordered D'Harville to skirt Berthaimont, but he had not acted upon it with sntficient vigoiu". His jiromjjtitude, frequently superseding reflection, and the ambition of brilliant enterprises, made him prefer at Jemappes, as throughout the campaign, an attack in front. At the same time, full of ardour and prc- Btncc of mind in the midst of action, he had admir- ably sustained his troops, and communicated to them an heroic courage. A vast renown attended this sig- nal victory. The battle of Jemappes fUled France with inilescrib-able joy, and Europe with fresh amaze- ment. Every where, so formidable an artillery braved witli such exemplary coolness, redoubts breasted with such distinguished gallantry, formed the theme of vt-onder; the peril and the victory were even exag- gerated ; and through all Europe the fiicidty of gaining pitched battles was again conceded to the French. At I'aris, all the sincere republicans experienced imalloyed gr;itification at the auspicious tidings, and celebrated them by rejoicings. Duinouriez's servant, the youthful Baptjste Ronard, was presented to the convention, and rewarded by it with a civic crown and an officer's epaidette. The Girondists, from pa- triotism, from a sense of justice, apjilauded the talents of the general. The Jacobins, although distrusting him, Hkewise applauded him, from the pm-e necessity of exulting at the triumphs of tlie revolution. Marat alone, reproaching the French for their infiituation, exclaimed tliat Dumonriez must have falsified the nimiber of his dt-ad ; that a moimtain coidd not be assailed at so little cost ; that he had taken neither baggage nor artillery ; that the Austrians had moved tranquilly away ; that it was a retreat rather than a defeat; and that Dumom-iez might have attacked the enemy more discreetly : and mingling with this actual sagacity a demoniac frenzy for calumny, he added that this attack in front was designed for no other purpose than that of sacrificing the brave battalions of Paris; that his colleag-ues in the convention and Jacobin Club, all the French, m short, so prompt to admire, wei-e but dolts ; and that for liiraself, he would allow Dmuouriez to be a good general when all Bel- gimn was subdued, without a single Austrian escap- ing, and a good patriot when Belgium was thoroughly revolutionised and rendered iUimitalily free. " You French," said he, " with this disposition to admire without reflection, are exposed to equally swift re- vulsion. One day you proscribe IMontesquiou ; you are told that he has conquered Savoy, and you applaud him ; j^ou again proscribe him, and become a general laughing-stock by these silly vacillations. For myself, I distrust, I accuse always ; and so far as the incon- veniences of this disposition are concerned, they are incomparably less than those residting from a con- trary tendency, inasmuch as they never compromise the public safety. They may doiibtless expose me to mistakes as to certain individuals ; but, seeing the corruption of the age, and the multitude of enemies to libert}' from education, princijile, and interest, it is a thousand to one that I am right, when I take them at once as intriguers and pul)lic knaves, aU ready for plots. I am, therefore, a thousand times less likely to be deceived regarding public functionaries ; and whilst the fatal confidence rejKised in them enables them to scheme against the country with equal ett'rontery and security, the eternal distrust with wliich the public should regard them, according to my jirinciples. woula not allow them to move a step without trembling at the dread of being mnuasked and punished." * The battle of Jemappes opened Belgium to the French : but now strange difficulties beset Dumon- riez, and two striking spectacles presented themselves — on the conquered territory, the French revolution acting upon adjacent revolutions, both by way of pre- cii)itation and assimilation ; and with regard to the French army, the demagogical spirit infusing itself into the administrations, and disorganising them under i)retence of purification. I'liere were several parties in Belgium : the first, that attached to Austrian domination, existed only in the imperial armies put to fiiglit by Dumonriez ; the second, composing the whole nation, nobleS; priests, * " Journal of the French Republic, by Marat, the Friend of the People," No. 43. Monday, 12th November 17;'-'. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 209 I magistrates, people, unanimously repudiated the foreign yoke, and desired the inde]>endence of the Belgian nation. But this latter was subdivided into two others : the priests and the privileged orders were hi favour of preserving the ancient states, the ancient institutions, the distinctions of classes and provinces — every thing, in short, except only the Austrian sway, and they had on their side a portion of the pt)pidation, still very superstitious, and greatly attached to the clergy ; on the other hand, the Belgian demagogues or Jacobins were anxious for a complete revolution and the sovereignty of the people, demanding the French level and absolute equality. Tims, each adopted of the revolution what suited its own ^iews ; the party of the x'rivileged orders sought only the ancient system ; the party of plebeians sought democracy and the reign of the nmltitude. Amongst the different parties, it will be easily divined that Dumouriez's predilections would lead him to steer a middle course. Repelling Austria with his troops, condemning the exclusive pretensions of the privileged orders, he had no desire at the same time to transport the Jacobins of Paris to Brussels, and there give being to new Chabots and Marat.s. His design in truth was, ■whilst respecting the ancient organisation of the coim- try, to reform what it held too piu-ely feudal. The enlightened part of the population was also actuated by such views ; but it was ditiicult to form it into an aggregate, on account of the lack of union amongst the towns and provinces ; and, furthermore, by con- voking it in an assembly, it would be exposed to the domination of the violent party. In case he covild realise his M'ishes, Dunaoiuiez thought, either by means !){ an alliance or of a miion, to connect Belgium with the Freurch empire, and thus complete its territory. He was, above all things, desirous of preventing spoli- ations, of ensuring the immense resources of the coiin- tiy for war, and of indisposing :io class of the pojiuia- tion, so that his army might not perish by an insur- rection. He looked forward, likewise, to conciliating the clergy, who exercised a prodigious influence over the minds of the people. He desired, in fine, such tilings as the experience of revolutions shows to be impossible, and which all administrative and political genius, however vast, may at once renounce with i^er- fect resignation. We shall see his plans and projects take development in their proper place. On entering Belgimu, he promised, in a proclama- tion, to respect property, persons, and the national independence. He ordered that all things should be maintained as they were ; that the authorities should continue their functions, the imjiosts be collected, and primary assemblies be ijiimediately convoked to form a national convention to decide on the fate of Bel- gium. Hiificulties of a different and graver cast were, how- ever, in store for bini. IMotives of policy, of public good, of humanity, might make him desire a prudent and moderate revolution in Belgimii ; but his army meanwhile must live, and therein lay his entangle- ment. ]Ie was the general, and, al)ove all things besides, was obliged to be victorious. For that end, discii)line and resources were essential to him. Upon his first entry into Mons on the morning of the 7tli November, amidst the acclamations of the Brabanters, who decreed him a crown, as well as the brave Hain- pierre, he found himself in the greatest embarrassment His commissiu'iat was at Valenciennes, and no part of what had been promised him was forthcoming. He wanted clothing for his soldiers, more than ludf-naked, provisions, horses for his artillerj', and light carriages to assist the progress of the invasion, especially in a country where transi)ort was extremely difiicidt ; lastly, specie to pay the troops, because the Belgians were not willing to accept assignats. The emigrants had circulated a large quantity of forged assignats, and thus thrown discredit on them ; besides, no nation is over prone to share the burdens of another, by receiv- ing paper which rei)resents its debts. The impetuosity of Dumouriez's character, amoimt- ing almost to imprudence, would scarcely permit us t() believe that he remained from the 7th to the 11th at Mons, and left the Duke of Saxe-Teschen to pursue his retreat in tranquillity, if administrative details had not imperiously detained him, and absorbed that attention which should have been exclusively fixed on military affairs. The plan he formed was wisely con- ceived; it consisted in forming contracts for provi- sions, forage, and stores, with the Belgians themselves. Hence numerous advantages would result ; in the first place, the articles of consumption were on the spot, and no delay was to be feared ; the contracts would give the Belgians an interest in the presence of the FreiK'h army ; and by paying the venders in assignats, they would be compelled to promote their circulation of themselves, thus avoiding a forced currency, an object of great importance, since every one iqjon whom a forced eurrencj' is imposed considers himself de- frauded by the authority coercing, and nothing tends more universally to exasperate a poimlation. Dumou- riez had furthermore reflected upon the feasibility of making loans from the clergy under the guarantee of France. Such loans woidd supply him with specie, and replenish his exhausted chest ; whilst the clergy, although smote for the instant, would feel more at ease as to their stability and possessions, when thus directly connected with him. And on the other hand, France having a right to claim indemnities from the Belgians for the expenses of a liberating war, those indemnities woidd be set apart for the payment of the loans ; and thus, by means of a slight additional con- tribution, the whole war would be defrayed, and Hu- mouriez woidd fidfil his boast of living at the cost cf Belgium without harassing or disorganising it. But these were plans inspired by genius simply; and in the stormy eras of revolution, it behoves genius to adopt one of two decided courses — either, foreseeing the dis- orders and the outrages about to follow, to retire be- times ; or, still foreseeing them, to yield thereto, and submit to pursue a career of violence for the purpose of continuing useful, whether at the head of an amiy or the state. No man has been sufficiently superior to worldly influences to essay the first ; one has been great, and shown that he could preserve his purity ol character whilst following the second. I refer to him who, holding a seat in the committee of public safety, took no part in its political acts, but devoted himself to the deiiartnient of war, and o?-ganised victorj/, a thing fair, permitted, and always patriotic under all govern- ments.* In effecting his contracts and financial operations, Dumouriez employed Jlalns, his war conmiissarj', Avhoni he highly esteemed cm account of his talents and activity, without inquiring too narrowly whether or not he were moderate in his gains. He likewise made use of one D'Esjiagnac, an ex-abbe of libertine morals, and one of those intellectual and sprightly roues of the lapsed era, who ])iu'siied all trades with infinite skill and grace, and left an ecpiivocal reputa- tion in all. Ilim Dumouriez dispatched to the mini- stry in order to unfold his ];lans, and procure a ratifi- cation of all the engagements he had contracted. He had already inciU'red sufiicient odium by the species of administrative dictatorship he had arrogated to himself, and by the revolutionary moderation he evinced with resjicct to the Belgians, without further com])romising himself by an ass(.ciation with nun, either the present objects of suspicion, or, if not now so, soon to Ijecome such. In tact, at this very period, a general nun-nnir arose against the old administra- tions, which were alleged to be full of knaves and aristocr.ats. After l>estowing so much care on the comfort of nis soldiers, Dumouriez turned his attention to the march of Labourdonnaye, which he was desirous of accelerat- * [Carnot is alhukil to in tbis description.] 210 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. ing. That general, wlio liad displaj-cd remarkable obstinacy in lingering behind, reached Toiu-nay very tardily ; and, when arrived there, illustrated liis coin- ing iiy scenes wortliy of the Jacobins, and levied licavy contributions. Dumouriez directed him to march rapidly on Ghent and the hfcheldt, in order to occupy Antwerp, and then accomplish tlie circuit of tlie country as far as tlie l\leuse. A^'alence, who had at lengtli arrived in line, after unavoidable delays, was ordered to be at Nivelles on the 13th or 14th. Du- mouriez, conchuling tluit the Duke of Saxe-Tesclicn would retire behind tlie canal of ^■ilvorden, intended that Valence, turning tlie ibrest of Soignies, should proceed beyond tliat canal, and there be ready to re- ceive tlie duke at the passage of the Dyle. He left rdoiis on the 11th, and came slowly up with the enemy, wlio was retreating in good order, but Avith singular sluggishness. Impeded by crazy con- veyances, he was unable to ])roceed with suifieieiit promptitude to make amends for the delays he had been coini)elled to undergo. On the 13th, preceding his army with a mere advanced guard, lie fell into the midst of the enemy at Anderlecht, and narrowly escaped being surrounded; but, with his usual address and firmness, he manoeuvred his little band, brought forward with much show some ])ieccs of artillery he had with him, and induced the Austrians to conclude that he was on the field of battle with his entire army. lie thus succeeded in keeping them in check until he M'as succoured by his own soldiers, who, learning his critical position, tiew with all speed to disengage him. He entered Brussels on the 14th, and was again stopped there by administrative embarrassments, hav- ing neither money nor resources necessary for the support of his troops. He was likewise apprised that the ministry refused to sanction his last contracts, with one exception ; and that all the old military ad- ministrations were cashiered, and replaced by a com- mittee called tJic Committee of Pnrchaaes. This com- mittee alone was for the future to be authorised to imrchase for the use of the armies ; and no general was allowed to intermeddle with that department in any respect. This was the beginning of a revolution in the offices of administration, wliich was not long in throwing them all into complete disorganisation for a time. The administrative departments, which require for their service a long practice or speciid study, are gene- rally those into which a revolution is the last to pene- trate, inasmuch as they less excite ambition, and the necessity of retaining capable oificers saves them from the rage for innovation. Consetpiently, scarcely any change had been made in the staffs, in the scientific corps of the army, in the offices of the various mini- stries, in the old commissariat deiiartmcrits, and above all, in the marine, which, of all the divisions of mili- tary art, most especially demands peculiar knowledge. Outcries were therefore speedily raised against the aristocrats wherewith these departments were filled, and reproaches levelled at the executive council for not remodelling them. The branch of administration which provoked the greatest exasperation was the commissariat. Just indignation was expressed against the contractors, who, from something mherent in go- vernment transactions, and, moreover, under favour of the prevalent disorders of the moment, asked exor- bitant prices in all their bargains, supplied the worst articles to the troops, and roblied the state with glar- ing effrontery. Their exactions formed the subject of complaint from all quarters; and an inexorable ad- versary arose against them in the person of Cambon of Montpellier, a deputy of the convention. Devoting himself with untiring zeal to matters of finance and public economy, this deputy had gained a great ascend- ancy in discussions ujwn those points, and enjoyed the full confidence of the assembly. Altlumgh a de- cided democrat, he had never ceased to exclaim against the spoliations of the commmie, and in so doing sur- prised those who were nnable to comprehend that he condemned as a financier disorders he would liaA'e possibly excused as a Jacobin. He inveighed with still greater vehemence against the contractors, and attacked them ^vitll aU the violence of his character. Every day he denounced new frauds, and insisted upon their punishment ; wliich exhortations wei-e heard with universal satisfaction. Honest men de- sired the chastisement of knaves, the Jacobins the persecution of aristocrats, and intriguers the multi- plicatiou of vacant situations. Thus an idea gradually arose in favour of form- ing a committee composed of certain individuals em- powered to make all purchases for behoof of the republic. It was thought that this committee, sole and responsible, Avould rescue the state from those frauds perpetrated by a nudtitude of isolated contrac- tors; and that, becoming the onh' purchaser for all the administrations, it would avoid enhancing prices by competition, as always happened when eacli ministry and each army treated separately for tiieir resjJtctive wants. This bodj^ Avas established with the sanction of all the ministers; and Cambon was its most stre- nuous advocate, since so new and simjile a form suited his dogmatic spirit. Dumouriez was thereupon adver- tised that he should conclude no more contracts, and ordered, fiu'thermore, to amud those he had alreai. The Jacobin party, which assailed the entire cause of monarchy in the person of the unfortunate Louis XVI., had undoubtedly waxed in po^^er of late, but it still encountered a vigorous opposition in Paris, and still more in the rest of France. It domineered in the capital by means of its club,* the commune, and the sections ; but the middle class was resuming cou- rage, and offering a resistance far from despicable. Pction having declined the mayoralty, the physician Chambon had obtained a large majority of votes, and accepted with reluctance functions which were little suited to his moderate and unambitious character. This election proves the power still possessed by the burgher class even in Paris itself; and it was unques- tionably nmch greater in the rest of France. The landowners, the traders, all the middle commmuty in short, retained their places in the municipal comicils, the departmental comicils, and the popular societies, and sent addresses to the majority of the convention in favour of the laws and moderation. Several of the societies affiliated to the Jacobins disavowed the parent society, and strenuously demanded the expul- sion of INIarat — some even that of Robespierre. Finally, from the departments of the INIouths of the Rhone, Calvados, Finisterre, and the Gironde, new bands of federalists issued, who, anticipating the decrees for their enrolment as upon the occurrence of the 10th August, came to protect the convention and ensure its independence. The Jacobins had not yet gained the armies ; the staffs and the military organisation opposed continual obstacles. They had, ho^vever, completely carried one ministry — that of war. Paclie had opened it to them from want of firmness, and displaced all its old fimction- aries for members of the club. In its offices the clerks spoke in the second person sing-ular, wore shabby and squalid garments, and expatiated on motions ; many * The Jacobin Club has, perhaps, though often pourtraj'ed, never been more grapliically depicted than by tlie pen of the author already quoted, in the History of Vie National Convention and its Principal Members. ' ' The club of the Jacobins," says he, " was veritably a co-ordi- nate part of the sovereign power, and the moot energetic part too ; it could not be sufficiently dreaded, so extreme was its jealous susceptibility, and so terrible its vengeance. It was for ever rest- less, apprehensive, suspicious, implacable, and ferocious ; its conception of liberty was formed with the indispensable adjuncts of dungeons, irons, and streams of blood. All the evils, all the crimes, all the execrable resolutions, which rendered France a theatre of desolation during three years, originated in tliis infer nal cavern. Tlie Jacobins riUed with a crushing, gigantic, hideous tyranny, which sat upon us all like an enduring nightmare. An inquisition, terrible, furious, and yet wily, it upheld itself by a concerted system of terror, violence, and dcmmciation, :md by the universal consternation it diffused. Tlie most influential amongst the revolutionists derived from it all their strength, and at the same time ceased not to adulate and cajole the club, w itli equal baseness and perseverance ; fur the mass of the elub, in fact, held the power, and so much as individu:Us gained must revert to it, as to its sole legitimate origin. No man of honour, no virtue arrayed in its inestimable attri- butes, could ever be endured in this society ; it was in antithesis to all that was not in some respects impure and tainted. A robber, an assassin, found in it more affinity than the despoiled or tho victim. The celebrated phrase, ' What hast Uioii done, to be InuKji'd, if the old si/stem be restored ?' w:us equally applicable in a tnoral as in a politiial sense. Wlioever presented himself with a repntation free from reproaeli was of necessiiy suspected ; but the branded inspired interest, and felt himself in liarmony, in fra- ternal association with the habitual inmates of the sewer. The club nut in the old convent of tho Jacobins, in tlie Hue St lloncire ; tlie hall had fcunierly been the library, and was of vast diineuKions, in tlie fiotliic style of arcliiteeture. It was orna menteliged to act only by ministers, who are responsible for its deeds, royalty is accessil)le only through its agents, and thus a point is open by wliich it may be huiid)led witliout endangering its stability-. Such 1 hold to be the feudal monarchy, as successively modified by time, and halmonised with the degree of libert}^ enjoyed by modern nations. The Constituent Assembly, however, had been in- duced to place a restriction upon the royal inviolabi- lity. The tliglit to Varennes and the enterprises of the emigrants had convinced it that ministerial re- sponsibility was not an aldequate guarantee to the nation against all the possible faults of royalty. It had in consequence provided for an emergency, in which the monarch should put himself at the head of a hostile army to assail the constitution of the state, or should even not ojiposc, by a formal act, an enter- prise of that nature undertaken in his name. Upon such a contingency it had declared the monarch, not indictable mider the ordinary laws against felony, but dethroned ; in fact, judged to have abdicated ronalty. Such was the precise language of the law it had passed. The prayer to accept the constitution, adckessed by it to the king, and the acceptance on his part, had rendered the contract irrevocable ; and the assembly had accordingly incurred the solemn obligation to keep sacred the jjcrson of the monarch. It was with this express engagement entangling them that the members of the convention fomid them- selves, when called upon to decide the fate of Louis XVI. Eut these new representatives, assembled under the name of conventionalists, alleged themselves not more bound by the institutions of their predecessors than the latter had considered themselves shackled by the antiquated histitutions of feudalism. So rapid an impulse had been given to opinion, that the laws of 1791 appeared as absurd to the generation of 1792, as those of the 1.3th century had seemed to that of 1789. The conventionalists, therefore, repudiated tlie sanc- tion of a law they decried as absurd, in the same spirit as the states-general had dec}ared against the existence of the three orders. Consequently, upon the opening of the debate, on the 13th November, two opposite opinions M-ero of course expressed ; some maintained the inviolability, others absolutely rejected it. Ideas had undergone so remarkable a change, that no member of the conven- tion ventured to vindicate the inviolability on its own merits; its advocates, on the contrary, defended it pimply as a ])rior enactment, the benefit of which ac- crued to tlie monarch, and wliicli could nt)t l)e denied him without violating a national engagement. But even very few deputies supported it on the groimd of an obligation incurred, and the Girondists condemned it in that light. They remained aloof from the debate, however, and sat as calm observers of the discussion between the scanty partisans of tlie inviolabihty and its numerous opponents. " In the first place," contended the adversaries of the inviolability, " to render an engagement valid, it is necessary that he who incurs it shoidd have the right so to do. Now, the national sovereignty is in- alienable, and cannot be fettered by anticipation. The nation may, certainly, M'hen covenanting the in\iola bility, have rendered the executive power inaccessible to the assaidts of the legislative power, for such was a political precaution expedient in the system of the Constituent Assembly ; but if it rendered the king in- violable with regard to all the constituted bodies, it could not render him inviolalile with regard to itself, for it can never renounce tlie facult}'- of doing and wilhng all things at all times ; this faculty constitutes its omnipotence, which is inalienable ; therefore the nation was not competent to bind itself to Louis XVI., and it cannot be estojiped by an engagement it had no power to contract. Secondly, even supposing the engagement possilile, it must be taken to bo reciprocal. Now, it never was so on the part of Louis XVI. That constitution, upon which he is so anxious at present to lay stress, he never desired, but alwaj's protested agahist it, and never ceased to attempt its destruction, not only by internal conspiracies but by the swords of enemies. What right, then, has he to plead its guarantee? But admitting for the instant that the engagement was possible and reciprocal, it must furthermore be con- sistent with reason in order to be valid. Thus, there is nothing repugnant to comyirehension in an inviolability bearing on all the ostensible acts for wliich a minister answers in lieu of the king. For all acts of this nature a guarantee subsists in the ministerial responsibility, and the inviolability, not being impunity, ceases to be inconsistent with reason, in other words, ceases to be absurd. But for all the secret acts, such as hidden plots, conmiunications with the enemy, treasons in short, what minister can there be to countersign or incur the responsibility? And yet such acts are to remain unpunished, although the gravest and most criminal of aU! That corollary is inadmissihile ; it must be acknowledged that the king, inviolable for the acts of his administration, ceases to be so for secret and criminal acts oidangering the public safety. So a deputy, inviolable in his legislative character, an ambassador in his diplomatic chai-acter, are not so as regards aU the actions of their private lives. In- violability, therefore, has limits; and there are points upon which the king ceases to be shielded from attack. WiU it be alleged that dethronement is the penalty prescribed against perfidies for which a minister is not answerable ? That is to say, the mere privation of his power is to be the sole chastisement inflicted on a monarch for having so outrageously abused it ! The people whom he has betrayed and delivered over to the sword of the foreigner and to every conceivable calamity, are to content themselves \vith saying. With- draw ! Such justice is purely illusory ; and no nation can be so wanting to itself as to leave unpunished crimes committed against its existence and its liberty. A known penalty, it is true, one assigned in a prior law, is requisite to enable its application to a delinquency. But are there not the ordinary penal- ties against treason ? Are not those penalties the same in all codes ? Was not the monarch cogni- sfuit, from the morality of all times and all regions, that treason is a crime, and that by the laws of all nations such a crime is punished with the last seve- rity ? But besides a penal law, a tribunal is needed. Behold, then, the sovereign nation, uniting in itself all powers — the right to judge as Avell as the right to make laws, to declare peace or war ; it is before you with its omnipotence, its miiversality, and there is no function above its capacity to perform. This nation is the convention which represents it, with a mandate to do all for its behoof — to avenge, to constitute, to save. The convention, then, is competent to try Louis XVI. ; it has sufficient powers ; it is the most inde- pendent, the most elevated tribunid an accused could select ; and unless he desiderates partisans or paid emissaries of the enemy to obtain justice, the monarch HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 217 cannot desire other judges. True, he will have the same men for accusers and judges. But if, in the ordinary tribmials, exposed in an inferior sphere to mdividual and particular provocatives to erroi", the functions are separated and care is taken that an accusation should not be adjudicated by those who have instituted it, in the general comicil of the nation, which is placed paramount to all interests, all indi- vidual motives, the same precautions are no longer necessary. The nation cannot err, and the deputies who represent it partake its infallibility as well as its powers. Thus, to sum up, the engagement contracted in 1791 being impotent to bind the national sovereignty, being without reciprocity, and, fm'thermore, mvolving an absurd conclusion, that treason may be committed with impunity, is altogether null, and Louis XVI. may be brought to trial. With regard to the pmiish- ment, it has been known from all time, has been pre- scribed in all laws. As to the tribmial, it rests m the convention, invested with all legislative, executive, and judicial powers." These orators, therefore, demanded, in conformity with the report of the committee, " that Louis XVI. shoidd be tried ; that the trial should take place before the National Convention ; that the articles of impeach- ment shoidd be framed by a select committee ; that he should appear m person to plead thereto ; that coim- sel should be allowed him in his defence ; and that immediately after being heard, the convention shoidd pronounce its judgment, each member viva voce." The advocates of the inviolabihty left none of these reasons mianswered, and refuted the whole system of their opponents. " It is argued," said they, " that the nation cannot alienate its sovereignty, or abrogate its right to punish a delinquency perpetrated against itself; that the inviolability proclaimed in 1791 bound merely the legislative body, biit not the nation in its collective capacity. In the first place, if it be correct that the national sovereignty cannot be alienated or restricted in the right to make new laws, it is equally correct that the past at least is beyond its control ; for instance, it is inca])able of obliterating what has been — it can- not take from the laws it had previously promulgated the operation they have akeady had, or anmd indem- nities they have pronounced. It is perfectly com- petent to declare that, for the futm-e, monarchs shall cease to be inviolable ; but it cannot prevent them being so retrosjiectively, inasmuch as it has so declared them ; it is, in short, disabled from violatmg engage- iiients contracted with third parties, in resjject to whom it became a simple party when covenanting with them. Tlnis, therefore, a case is established in which tlie national sovereignty coidd bind itself for a period ; it intended to do so in the amplest manner, not only for the legislative body, which it interdicted from all judicial action against tlie king, but for itself, because tlie political object of the inviolability would have been frustrated, had royalty not been phwed paramount to all attack whatsoever, as well on the part of the nation as of the constituted authorities. With regard to the want of reciprocity in the ope- ration of the engagement, the diflSculty has been fore- stalled. The possibility of a faihu-e in fidelity to the engagement, was foreseen by the engagement itself. All the modes in which such failure could occur are comprehended in one, the most grave conceival)Ie, war against the nation, and are with it i)unislied by de- thronement, that is to say, by the dissolution of tlie contract existing between tlie nation and the kuig. The want of recijirocity, therefore, is not a reas(jn sufiicient to relieve the nation from its pledge of in- violal)ility. The engagement, then, was substantial and absolute, equally oljligatory on the nation as on the legislative body; the lack of reciprocity was foreknown, and cannot be adduced in allegation of a nudum pactum; and we finally proceed to show that, under the monarchical system, such a contract was not inconsistent with reason, and cannot be assaUed on the ground of ab- siu-dity. This inviolability, in fact, left no crime unpunished, whatever may be alleged to the contrary. The ministerial responsibility extended to every act, because a king can no more conspire than govern without agents; and thus public justice had always its resource. And those secret crimes, distinct from the ostensible delinquencies of administration, were fore- seen and punished with forfeiture ; for every fault on the part of the king was atoned for, according to that legislation, liy the cessation of his functions. To this it is opposed, that forfeitm-e is not a penalty, as it amomits simply to the ])rivation of a means abused by the monarch. But, mider a system in which the royal person was intended to be unassailable, the severity of the pmiishment was not the important considera- tion ; the essential point was its political residt ; and this result was effectually obtained by the deprivation of power. Besides, is the loss of the first tlu-one in the imiverse really no punishment ? Can a man, with- out deep affliction, forfeit a diadem which from infancy has encircled his brow, with wliich the years of his life have been passed, and a homage of twenty j-ears commanded ? To minds nurtured in sui)reme rank, is not such a punishment equivalent to death? But, even were the penalty too mild, it is based upon an express stipulation ; and an insufiicieucy of pmiishment cannot be a cause of nullity in a law. It is a maxim in criminal legislation, that all mistakes in the law should redound to the advantage of the accused, upon the equitable principle that the errors of the strong should not be visited upon the Aveak and powerless. Thus, therefore, the engagement, already demonstrated to be valid and absolute, involves no absurdity ; it sti- pidates no impunity, nor is treason left nnpunished- Consequently, there is no need to recur either to natu- ral right or to the nation, inasmuch as deposition is already prescribed by an existing law. This penalty the king has midergone, without any tribunal pro- novmcing it, and after the only possible procedure, that of a national insurrection. Dethroned at this moment, in an utter impossibility of acting, France may do nothmg more agamst him than pursue precautionary measures for his safe keeping. Let her banish liim from her territory for her ovm security ; let her detain him, if she please, until the peace; or let her leave him to become a private citizen m the heart of the land: this is all she is justified in domg, all slie can do. It is therefore quite unnecessary to constitute a tribunal, or to discuss the competency of the convention: on the 10th August all was finished for Loins XVI.; on the 10th August he ceased to be a king; on the 10th August he was put upon his tri;d, jutlged, deposed, and all was consummated between him and the nation." Such Avas the answer of the jiartisans of the inviola- bility to their adversaries. The national sovereignty being taken as it Avas then interpreted, their rejoin- ders must be deemed victorious, and all the reasonings of the committee of legislation mere laboured sophisms, false and vapid. Our immediate task has been to condense the argu- ments used on the two sides of the ouis XVI., Saint-Just animadverted upon the tendency to refinement and subtlety, so de- trimental, as he contended, in affairs of great moment. The life of Louis XVI. was of no consequence ; the spirit to be evinced by his judges was what disquieted him; the estimate they should present of themselves was what mainly concerned him. " Tlie men who are about to judge Louis XVI. have a republic to fomid, and those wiio attach any importance to the just chastisement of a king, will never found a re]uib- lic. Since the report, a certain doubt has manifested itself. Each considers the trial of the king mider his own peculiar views : some seem to fear the future conse(|uences of their courage ; others have not re- nounced hopes of monarchy ; these dread an example of virtue which woidd tighten the bonds of union. We aU judge each other with severity, I will even say with fury ; we think only of modifying the energy of the people and of liberty, whilst the common enemy is scarcely noticed, and Avhilst all, either paralysed by weakness or immersed in crime, stand in mutual survey before striking the first blow ! Citizens, if the Roman people, after six hundred years of virtue and of hatred to kings, if Great Britain, after the death of Cromwell, saw kings restored in spite of their energy, what fears may not oppress good citizens amongst lis, the true friends of Uberty, when they behold the axe tremble in our hands, and a nation, even in the first moment of its freedom, respect the memory of its fetters ? ^Yha.t republic will you esta- blish amidst our individual contests and our common failings ? I will always uphold the doctrine, that the spirit in which you judge the king will be the same as that in which you will establish the republic. The measure of your philosophy in that judgment will be likewise the measure of freedom in the constitutioTi 1 " There were men, however, who, less fanaticised than Saint-Just, endeavoured to place the question upon juster grounds, and lead the assembly to consider it under a more favourable and equitable point of view. " Reflect," said Rouzet,* " upon the veritable situation of the king in the constitution of 1 79L He was placed before the national representation in a position of con- strained rivalry. Was it not natm'al he should seek to recover as much as possible of the power he had lost ? Was it not yourselves who had opened the lists, and called him to the combat with the legislative power ? AVeO, in these lists he has been conquered ; he is now a captive, disarmed, prostrate at the feet of twenty-five millions of men, and these twenty-five millions would have the useless baseness to immolate the vanquished! But, furthermore," added Rouzet, " that perpetual craving for dominion, a lust which actuates all hearts, Louis XVI. has stifled in his bosom more tlian any sovereign in the Avorld. Did he not make in 1789 a voluntary sacrifice of part of his authority? Did he not renounce many of the prerogatives his predecessors scnipled not to exercise? Did he not abolish servitude, in his domains? Did he not call to his coimcil philosophic ministers, and even empirics whom the public voice pointed out? Did he not convoke the states-general, and restore to the third-estate a portion of its rights?" Faure, a deputy from the Lower-Seine, evinced even greater boldness. Reverting to the conduct of Louis XVI., he ventured to vindicate the reminiscence. " The wrath of the people," said he, " might have been stimulated against Titus as well as against Nero, for crimes might have been found against him, were they those only connnitted before Jerusalem. But where are those you impute to Louis XVI. ? I have listened with the greatest attention to the documents read against him ; I have detected in them simply the weakness of a man who yields to all the hopes sug- gested to him of recovering his former authority ; and I maintain tliat all the monarcl« who have died peace- ably in their beds were more culpable than he. The good Louis XII., even, by sacrificing 50,000 Frenchmen in Italj^ in his private quarrel, was infinitely more criminal ! A civil list, a veto, the choice of his mini- sters, women, kinsmen, courtiers, sucli the seductions of Capet ! — and what seductions ! I invoke Aristides and Epictetus ; let them say whether their firnmess could have witlistood such assaults. It is upon the Iieart of frail mortals I rest my estimate of principles ♦ Sitting of tlie lotU November. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 219 1 1 or errors. Arise, then, to the full grandeur of the I national sovereignty ; reflect -with -wiiat magnanimity such a power should bear itself. Call Louis XVI. not as a cruninal, hut as a Frenchman, before you, and ; say to him. Those who once raised thee on their buck- lers and saluted thee as king, now depose thee ; thou I promised to be their father, and tliou wert not. Ex- ] piate, by thy virtues as a citizen, the conduct thou hast pursued as a king ! " In the extraordinary excitement of the epoch, each was led to view the question under different phases. Fauchet, the constitutional priest who had gained celebrity in 1789 by using in tlie pulpit the language of the revolution, demanded whether society had a right to inflict the penalty of death. " Has society the right," said he, " to take from a man the hfe it has not given ? Doulitless it ought to screen itself from danger, but is it true it can only do so by the death of the offender ? And if it can by other means, is it not bound to employ them ? In this case, more tlian in any other, the maxim is applicable. You allege it is for the piiblic interest, for the consolidation of the new-born republic, tliat you are to immolate Louis XVI. ! But will all his family perish by the same blow that annihilates liim? Accoi'ding to the system of hereditary succession, does not one king immediately succeed another ? Are you freed, by the death of Louis XVI., from the rights an entire family deems itself to hold from a possession of several cen- tm'ies ? The destruction of one alone is manifestly fruitless. On the contrary, let the actual head who j closes all access to the others remain ; suffer him to , exist with the hatred wherewith he is regarded by all aristocrats for his vacillations and his concessions ; suffer hmi to languish with his reputation for imbe- cility, with the ignominy of his defeat, and you will have less to apprehend from him than from any other. Allow this deposed monarch to wander within the vast circuit of your republic, shorn of that splendour wont to encompass him ; show how small a thing is a king when reduced to himself; testify a profound dis- dain for the remembrance of what he was, and that remembrance will cease to have any vigour ; you will thereby give a great example to mankind, and secure stability and integrity to the republic much more efiectuaUy than by sliedding blood which does not belong to you. As to the son of Louis XVI., if he can wax into a man, we will make a citizen of him, like young Egalite. He wUl fight for the republic, and we need never fear that a single soldier of liberty will at any time aid him in becoming a traitor to the country. Let us thus demonstrate to all nations that we dread nothing ; let us induce them to imitate us, so that aU in concert may form an European congress, depose their sovereigns, send those emasculated beings to drag out their obscure hves amidst the flourisliing republics ; and even grant them small pensions, for such creatures are so devoid of faculties, that want itself would not teach them to earn their bread. Pre- sent, then, this bright example of the abolition of a barbarous punishment. Suppress the iniquitous usage of shedding bl(;od ; and above all, cure the people of that unwholesome longing they have to spill it. Strive to assuage in them that thirst which ])erverse men would whet, to use it hereafter in overthrowing the republic. Recollect tliat certain barl)arians still ask from you one hundred and fifty thousand heads, and that after conceding the king's, you will be unable to refuse them any. Prevent crhnes which Avill long agitate the heart of the republic, dishonour lilierty, slacken its progress, and delay the era of the world's happiness." This debate continued from the 13th till the 30th November, and excited an universal agitation. Those whom the new order of things had not swejrt into its vortex, and who preserved some recollection of 1789, of the goodness of the monarch, and of the love that was borne him, coidd not comprehend that this same king, suddenly transformed into a tyrant, should be consigned to a scaffold. Whilst they admitted his cor- respondence with foreigners, they imputed that fault to his weakness, to those around him, or to the invin- cible love of hereditary power ; and the supposition of an ignommious punishment shocked their feelings. They dared not, however, openly undertake the de- fence of Louis XVI. The recent peril to which the country had been exposed by the Prussian invasion, and the opinion generally entertained that the court was the secret instigator of that inroad on the French territory, had aroused an exasperation which fell heavily on the unfortunate monarch, and the force of which the boldest shrunk from encountering. They contented themselves with resisting in a general man- ner those who clamoured for acts of vengeance ; they represented them as the fomentors of disturbances, as Septemb?-isers, who wished to cover France with blood and devastation. Without defending Louis XVI. by name, they advocated moderation towards fallen enemies. They exhorted all to beware of a hypocri- tical energy, Avhich, pretending to defend the republic by judicial murders, sought only to enslave it by ter- ror, or compromise it with all Europe. The Girondists had not yet taken part in the dis- cussion. It was surmised, ere their opinion was known, and the IVIountain, in order to have grounds for accus- ing them, confidently asserted, that they desired to save Louis XVI. They were not decided, however, on the subject. On the one hand, rejecting the inviola- liility, and regarding Louis XVI. as an accomplice of the foreign mvasion, and on the other, moved at the contemplation of a dismal reverse, and inclined on idl occasions to oppose the violence of their adversaries, they knew not what course to follow, and preserved a doubtful and threatening silence. Another subject agitated the public mind at this moment, and occasioned as nnich ferment as the other. We refer to the supplies of food, which had been a plentiful somxe of discord at all periods of the revolu- tion. We have already seen how many anxious and ardu- ous moments this cause had occasioned Bailly and Nccker during the troubled era of 1789. The same difficidties presented themselves in a still more aggra- vated shape at the end of 1792, accompanied by move- ments of the most formidable character. The suspen- sion of trade in aU commodities not of the first ne- cessity, may seriously affect industry and ultimately press upon the labouring classes ; but when grain, the indispensable aliment, fails, commotions and disorders immediately ensue. Thus, the old police had ranked the care of supplies in the number of its duties, as one of the matters most affecting the public tranquillity. The crops were not deficient in 1792, but the har- vest had been retarded by ungenial weather, and the thrashing of the corn impeded by a lack of hands. But the chief cause of the scarcity existed elsewhere. In 1792, as in 1789, the want of security, the dread of l)illage on the highways, and vexations in the markets, prevented the farmers from bringing forward their stocks. A clainotir was forthwith raised against fore- stalling. Indignation was chiefly expressed against the rich farmers, who were styled aristocrats, and whose extensive farms, it was contended, ought to be divided. The greater the exasjieration aroused against them, the less they were disposed to appear in the markets, and the more the scarcity increased. The assignats had likewise contributed to prcxlucc this result. ]\Iany farmers, who sold merely to accnnmlatc, were careless about hoarding a variable pajx^r currency, and preferred keeping their corn, l^irthermore, as wlieat became daily more scarce and assignats more ■plentiful, the disproportion Ix'tween the symbol and the reality kept a corresponding pace, and the en- hancement of price grew more and more sensible. By an accident usual in all famines, foresight bem'g- awakened by alarm, every one was eager to get into 220 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. stock ; private families, the municipalities, the govern- ment, malies, al- though involving no material point not already urged by Saint-Just, produced, nevertheless, a considerable sensation in the assembly, and it determined to pass a definitive resolution before adjourning. Robespierre had insisted that Louis XVI. should be forthwitii judged ; but several members, with Tetion in tlic number, persisted in recommending that, before de- ciding on the forms to be oiiserved, the convention sliould, at all events, ])ronoun(e the arraignment; for that, said they, was an iiuUspensahle iireliminary, witli whatever (lisi)atch it might be wishetl to carry on the process. Robespierre rose to sjieak again, and seemed as it were to insist ujion being heard ; but his pre- sum])tiious demeanour irritated the majority, and the tribune was interdicted him. The assembly at length passed the following reso- lution:— "The National ("onvention declares that Louis XVI. shall be tried by it."* The next day the forms of the trial were brought * .1(1 DcccinbtT. 222 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. under discussion. Buzot, in consequence of the re- peated taunts tlirown out coiioerniiig n\valism, claimed to be heard upon a question of order ; and, us lie allejred, with the view of reiiiovinij all suspicions, he proposed the penalty of death a^'ainst any who should advocate the re-establishment of royalty in France. This was one of the modes which ])arties often adopted to prove that they were incapable of the designs imputed to them. Considerable apj)lause greeted the useless mo- tion ; but the Mountaineers, who, according to their system, ought to have ojiposed no obstacle to its adop- tion, assailed it fruni spleen, and Bazire rose to urge its rejection. He was met with shouts of "Divide! divide!" I'hilipeaux, sujjporting Bazire, moved that the convention attend only to the matters touching Louis XVI., and hold a pernument sitting until his trial should be concluded. The opposers of Buzot's proposition were then asked what motives induced them to repudiate it, since none coiild possibly regret royalty. Lejeune replied that it was recalling to de- bate what had been decided by the abolition of roj'alty. " But," said Bewbel, " the question mooted is the ad- dition of a penal enactment to that abolition ; it is therefore far from bringing under debate any thing already decreed." j\Ierlin, with less tact than bis associates, introduced an amendment, to except the case of a proposition to re-establish royalty, emanat- ing in the primary assemblies, from the application of the penalty of death. Murnmrs arose from all sides against this reservation. " Now the secret's out ! " exclaimed several members. " They wish a king, but one taken from the primary assemblies — from those bodies whence IMarat, Robespierre, and Danton have si)rung." Merlin sought to justify himself by assert- Lig that he intended to pay due homage to the sove- reignty of the people. Ills voice was drowned in in- dignant reproaches of royalism, and a motion was made that he shoulre- tence to retard the proceedings by chicanery. The assembly, in I'onclusion, granted counsel. Adeputa- tion was appointed to Avait on Louis XVI., conmiuni-» cate to liim this restiliition, and ascertain from him U])()n Avjioni liis choice fell. 'J'lie king named Target, or, failing him, Troncliet, and both if it Avere iiossible. He also requested tliat he might be supjiiied Avith pens, ink, and jiaper, to jirejiare materials for his defence, and be ]HTmitted to see his family. The convention imnu'diately ordained that every thing necessary for writing slioidd he furnished to him; that the two advocates Avliom lie had selected should be ajqirisedof the preference shoAvn them; that he should be idloAved the freest intercourse with them; and tiiat he might see his family. 224 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. Target declined the commission which Louis XVI. intrusted to him, alleging as a reason that he had been unable, ever since 1785, to pursue the labours of the bar. Tronclict instantly wrote that lie was ready to accei)t the I'unctiijns confided to bun ; and whilst the aijpoiutnient of a second counsel was under de- liberation, a letter was received from a citizen, a septuagenarian, the venerable Maleslierbes, the friend and associate of Turgot. and the most respected magistrate in France. The noble veteran wrote to the ])resident: " I have been twice called to the council of liim who was my master, at a time wlien that service was an object of univers;d ambition; I owe him the sanje obedience when it is a service deemed dangerous by nuuiy." He besought the president to inform Louis XVI. that he was prepared to devote all his energies in liis defence. Several other citizens made the same offer, with which the king was duly ac(iuainted. He thanked them all, but accepted Tronchetand ilalesherbes only. The conunune directed that the two advocates should be subjected to the most minute search before they were ushered into tlie presence of their client. The convention, wliich liad ordered unrestricted communica- tlun, re-asserted its resolution, and they were allowed to enter the Temple without obstruction. On seeing Maleslierbes, the king advanced to meet him ; the venerable oil man fell at his feet, and burst into tears. The king raised him, and they remained in a long embrace. The business of the defence, however, de- manded and obtained their speedy attention. Com- missioners from the assembly brought the documents to the Temjile daily, with orders to communicate their contents, but not to part from their possession. The king examined them with great attention, and with a traiKiuillity likewise which infinitely astonished tlie commissioners. The only consolation he had solicited, permission to see liis family, had not yet been granted to him, not- withstanding the decree of the convention. The com- mune, already disposed to throw every olistacle in the way of the indulgence, had petitioned for the repeal of the decree. " You will vainly enjoin it," said Tallien to the convention ; " if the commune be unwilling, it will not be cai'ried into effect." These insolent words excited considerable tumult. However, the assembly, modifying its decree, ordained that the king might have his two children with him, but on condition that the children shoidd not return to their mother during the entire process. The king, sensible that they were most necessary to their mother, refused to deprive her of them, and submitted to this new ;iffliction with a resignation no intlignity could shake. In jiroportion as the trial advanced, tlie vast im- portance of the question at issue became more jierfectly understood. On the one hand were those who felt assnreil that proceeding by regicide against the old royalty was embarking in an inexorable system of vengeance and atrocity, and declaring war to the death against the former order of things: they were willing, indeed, to abrogate that order of things, but not to destroy it in so violent a manner. On the other liand were those who desired that very war to the death, as admitting no more vacillation or return, and iis i)lanting an iinpassal)le barrier between the mo- narchy and the revolution. The person of the king was scarcely considered in the greatness of the ques- tion; all attention was engrossed on the one point, vhetlier it were expedient or nt)t to break entirely with tlie past by one decisive and irrevocable act. The result alone was weighed, and the victim destined for the sacrifice was in the interim overlooked. The Girondists, steadfast in their detestation of the Jacobins, unceasingly upbraided them with the mas- sacres of September, and represented them as anar- chists, scheming to overawe the assembly i)y terror, and to immolate the king for the purpose of replacing him by the triumvirs. Guadet almost succeeded in exjielliug them from the convention, by procuring a decree that tlie electoral assemblies of the whole country should be convoked in order to confirm or recall their deputies. This proposition, adopted and rescinded in the course of one sitting, had struck con- siderable alarm into the Jacobins. Other circum- stances likewise tended to augment their uneasiness. The federalists continued to arrive from all quarters. The municipalities forwarded a midtitude of addresses, in which, whilst approving of the re])ublic, and ap- plauding the convention for ha\ing instituted it, they rejirohateil the crimes and excesses of anarchy. The affiliated soeieties also continually reproached the l)arent society with having in its bosom men of blood, who contaminated pul)lic morality and advocated attemiits on the security of the convention. Some even repudiated their jiarent, declaring they cast away all further affiliation, and announcing that at the first signal they would fly to Paris to support the assembly. All especially called for the expulsion of Marat, some for that of Kobespierre himself The dispirited Jacobins allowed that opinion was growing corrupt in France ; Init they exhorted each other to hold together, and to use all diligence in writing to the tUfierent provinces, and enlightening their tleceived brethren. They accused " the traitor" Roland of intercei)ting their correspondence, and sub- stituting f(jr their wholesome lessons hypocritical writings calculated to pervert the miderstanding. They proposed a volmitary subscription for the purpose of disseminating sound pnbhcations, particularly the "admirable" discourses of Kobespierre; and sought means for securing their safe delivery in spite of Ro- land, who violated, as they alleged, the freedom of the post-office. At the same time, they agreed that Marat compromised them by the violence of liis writings, and that it was essential the i^arent society shoidd make known to France how marked a distinction it held to exist between Marat, whose lieated temperament car- ried him beyond bounds, and the prudent, virtuous Robespierre, who, always within proper limits, upheld without weakness, as also without exaggeration, the just and possible course. Previously, however, a vehement dispute had occurred in the club res]iecting those two men. It had been generally acknowledged that Marat was a man of bold and powerful intellect, but too excitable. He had been usefid to the cause of the iK'ople, it was allowed, but he knew not where to stop. The partisans of Marat had replied that he did not deem it necessary to execute all that he had re- commended, and that none was so good a judge as he of the limit at wliich things ought to bt; stayed. They adduced several of his passages. jMarat had said: — " There needs but one Marat in the republic. I demand the yreater to obtain the lesft. My hand shouhl wither rather than wj-ite, if I thou(/ht the people would execute to the letter all that I advise. I overtask tlie people because I know they will banjain with me." The galleries had ap- ])lauded and su])|)orted this justification of Marat, But the society had finally resolved to frame an address, in whicii, pourt raying the characters of Marat and Robes- pierre, it should show how striking a ditt'erence it placed between the discretion of the one and the vehe- mence of the other.* ,i\fter deciding upon this mea- * Aniong3t the many curious judgments pixsscd upon Muivit and Robespierre, that pronounced in the Jacobin Club in the sit- ting of Sunday, 2:id December 17!'-', ought not to be omitted. I know nothing more accurately descriptive of the spirit .and temper of the moment than the discussion upon the characters of those two men. The following is an extract : — " Destieux road <)\er the coiTcspondcnce. A letter from a society, whose name Iuls escaixjd us, gave rise to consiilemblc dis- cussion, calculated to evoke important reflections. This society announced to the parent society that it was invariably attached to the principles of the Jacobins, that it had not allowed itself to be blinded by the calumnies so profusely scattered against Mm-U .and Robespierre, and that it continued all its esteem and venera- tion for those two incorruptible friends of the penjife. Tills letter was warmly applauded, but was followed by a dl> HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 225 sure, several others were adopted, and especially a determination not to relax for an instant in urging tlie departure of the federalists for the frontiers. Accord- ingly, wlienever intelligence reached Paris that the army under Dumouriez Avas weakened by desertion, the Jacobins exclaimed tliat the reinforcement of the federalists was indispensable. Marat pul)lished tliat the volunteers who had first gone oflT had been kept for upwards of a year, and that it was time to rephice them by those loitering in Paris. It was known, too, about this time, that Custine had been obliged to abandon Frankfort, that EeurnonA-ille's attack on the electorate of Treves had been fruitless ; and tlie Jaco- bins failed not to maintain tliat if those two generals had been strengthened by the federalists who uselessly crowded the capital, they would have been spared the disgrace of those checks. The various tidings of the fruitless attempt of Beur- nonville and the repulse of Custine had powerfully agitated the public mind. It had needed little fore- sight to predict both ; for Beurnonville, attacking un- assailable positions, ui a bad season, and with insnfti- cient means, could not succeed ; and Custine, pertina- ciously refusing to recoU upon the Khine of his own accord, shunning so signal an avowal of his tcmeritj', must infallibly be reduced to a retreat upon Mayence. Public misfortunes always furnish parties with aliment for invective. The Jacobins, who were sufficiently cussion which Brissot and Gorsas, who are assuredJy prophets, foretold the evening before. Robert. — ' It is very surprising that people will perpetually con- found the names of Marat and Robespierre. How the public mind must bo corrupted in the departments, when no difference is observed between those two defenders of the peo])!e ! They have both virtues, it is true ; Marat is a patriot, and has truly estimable qualities, I admit ; but how different is he from Robes- pierre ! Hf is prudent, ninderate in his means, whilst Jlarat is prone to ex.iggeration, and has not that wisdona which charac- terises Robespierre. It is not sufficient to be a patriot ; in order to serve the people usefully, a man must be reserved in his means of execution ; and Robespierre incomparably excels Marat in the means of execution. It is time, citizens, to tear away the veil which conceals the truth from the eyes of the departments ; it is time they should know that we draw a marked distinction between Marat and Robespierre. Let us write to the afhliated societies what we think of those two citizens ; for, I confess to you, I am no gi-eat admirer of Marat.' (Murmurs in thegallories, and partially from the haU.) Bourdon. — ' We ought to have made known our sentiments toucliing Marat long ago to the affiliated societies. How is it possible they could ever confound Marat and Robespierre ? Robespicn-e is a man essentially virtuous, against whom, during the whole revolution, we have no reproach to make ; Robespierre is moderate in his means, whilst Marat, on the contrary, is an unbridled WTiter, who greatly injures the .Jacobins (murmurs) ; and, besides, it is proper to observe, that Marat does us infinite mischief in the National Convention. The deputies conceive that we are partisans of Marat ; they call us Maralists ; if we show that we rightly estimate Jlarat, you will soon see the deputies draw near tlie Mountain on which we sit ; you will sec them come into the bosom of this society ; j'ou will see the affiliated societies recover from their aberration, and rally anew aroimd the cradle of liberty. If Marat boa patriot, he must accede to t!ic motion I am about to submit. Marat will be ready to sacrifice himself to the cause of liberty. I move that his name be erased from the list of members of tliis society." This motion excited a few plaudits, violent nuinuurs in a part of the hall, and tumultuous agitation in the galleries. It was remembered that eii,'ht dnys before this novel scene, Marat had been loaded with applause in tlie society ; the people in the galleries, who have good memories, recollected the circum- stance very distinctly ; they could not imagine how so prompt u change liad come over the sjiirits of men ; and, ivs the moral in- stinct of the people is always just, they were higlily indignimt at the proposition of Bourdon : they defended their virtuous friend ; they refused to believe that, in the short space of a week, he could have forfeited the esteem of the society, for although it had been said that ingratitude was a virtue of republics, it would re- quire some difficulty to famili;irisc the French people with such vii-tues. inimical to generals suspected of an aristocratic bias, seized upon the occasion, declaimed with fury agahist tliem, and denounced them as FeuiUants and Giron- dists. Marat failed not to inveigli more emphatically than ever against the rage for conquest, which he had always blamed, he said, and which, moreover, was but a disguised ambition of the generals to attain a posi- tion of formidalile greatness. Robespierre, pointing the odium according to tlie instigations of his malice, contended that it was not tlie generals who were to blame, but the infamous faction which ruled the assembly and the executive power. The perfidious Roland, the intriguing Brissot, the ■wi-etches Louvet, Guadet, Vergniaud, were the authors of all the dis- asters that afflicted France. He craved to lie the first assassinated by them, but he hoped ere that occurred to have the pleasure of denouncing them. IJuniouriez and Custine, he added, knew them, and took good care to hold aloof from them ; but all feared them, tecause they disposed of gold, places, and all the resources of the republic. Their intention was to enslave it, and for that purpose they fettered all the true patriots, prevented the development of their energy, and thus exposed France to be vanquished by its enemies. Their more immediate design was to annihilate the society of Jacobins, and to massacre all who shoidd have cou- rage to resist. " For myself," he exclaimed, " I ask to be assassmated by Roland ! " * The union of the names of Jlarat and Robespierre was not at all revolting to tlie people ; their ears had been long accustomed to hear tliem named in conjunction in the corresixmdence ; and, after lia\ing repeatedly seen the society moved with indignation when the clubs of other departments denuvnded the expulsion of Marat, they were far from deeming tliemselvcs bound to support the present motion of Bourdon. A citizen from an affiliated society pressed upon the attention of the society how really dangerous it was to join together the names of Marat and Robespierre. ' In the departments,' said he, ' we draw a gi-eat distinction between Marat and Robespierre ; but we are surprised to see the society silent upon tlio dift'erences between these two patriots. I propose to the society, after it has decided upon the fate of Jlarat, to speak no more of affiliation, as that word ought not to be pronounced in a reiiublic, but to ase the term/riitcr»isa'ion instead.' , nii/oiiriii/. — ' I oppose the motion for striking Jlarat off the list of the society. (Great applause.) I will not deny the difference that exists between Jlarat and Robespieri'e. Those two writers, who may be likened to each other in patriotism, have very re- markable points of difference ; they have both .served the cause of thepeople, but by different modes. Robespierre has defended the true principles with method, firmness, and all befitting discretion ; Jlarat, on the contrary, has often overstepped the bounds of sound reason and prudence. Still, although granting the distinction existing between JLarat and Robespierre, I am not in favour of tlie expulsion ; we may be just without being ungrateful to Jlarat. Jlarat has been serviceable to us, he has aided the revolution with courage. (Repeated cheers from the society and the galleries.) It would be ungrateful to erase him. (Yes! yes! from all sides.) Marat is an indispensable person ; in revolutions there is a call for those strong minds capable of uniting states, and Jlarat is one of the rare characters necessiiry to overthrow despotism. (Ap- plause.) I conclude with moving that the motion of Bourdon be rejected, and thiit the society contents itself with writing to the uthliatcd clubs, signifying to them the distinction we mark between Jlarat and Robespierre.' (Applause.) The society resolved that it would no longer use the term affi- liation, regarding it as repulhive to republican equality ; it substi- tuted for it the word fraternisation. Tlie society afterwards resolved that Jlarat should not be erased from the list of mem- bers, but that it would address a circular to all the societies hold- ing the right of fiatcrnis;ition, in wliich should be detailed tho relations, rcsembhmces, dissemblances, affinities, anKFKN'CE. — HIS CONDEJIXATION. — HIS LAST MINUTES IN THE PRISON AND ON THE SCAFFOLD. The interval granted to Louis XVI. for preparing his defence, was scarcely sufficient to thoroughly in- vestigate the multifarious records upon which it was to be founded. His two advocates solicited tlie assistance of a third, younger and more active than themselves, who miglit frame and deliver the defence, whilst they souglit out and arranged its materiaii. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 227 This young adjunct was the advocate Dest-ze, who had defended Besenval after the 14th Jidy. The con- vention, having already conceded the defence, made no objection to an additional counsel, and M. Deseze obtained, like Malesherbes and Tronchet, the privi- lege of entering the Teni])le. A committee carried the documents thither daily, and exlnl)ited them to Louis XVI., who inspected them witli the greatest coolness, and as if the process had concerned another, as a report of the conimmie expressed it. He evinced the most marked politeness towards the conmiissioners, and ordered them refreshments when the considta- tions stretched to an unusual length. Whilst he was occupied with his trial, he had discovered a mode of commimicating with his family. He wrote by means of the pens and paper allowed him for composing his defence, and the princesses pricked their reply upon the paper with needles. They sometimes folded the notes ill balls of thread, which an attendant from the kitchen, whilst serving dinner, threw under the table ; and at other times they let them down by a string of packthread from one floor to the other. The unhappy captives were thus enabled to give each other tidings of their health, and experienced much consolation from the assurance that sickness was not also one of their afflictions. At length M. Deseze had finished the defence by devoting day and night to its compilation. The king made him suppress all that was too oratorical, desir- ing to restrict himself to the simple discussion of the points upon which he rested his case. On the 26th, at half-past nine in the morning, all the armed force was in motion to conduct him from the Temple to the Feuillants, with the same jirecautions and in the same order as upon the former occasion. Seated in the carriage of the mayor, he conversed with him on the way with his invariable tranquillity ; they talked of Seneca, of Titus-Livius, of tlie hosjjitals ; he even addressed a sprightly witticism to one of the muni- cipal officers who kept his hat on in the carriage. Arrived at the Feuillants, he asked with soUcitude for his advocates, sat by their side in the assembly, sur- veyed with infinite calmness the benches on which his accusers and his judges were seated, appeared to scan their countenances as if seeking to observe the effect of M. Heseze's address, and more than once interchanged a few words with Tronchet and Male- sherbes, with a snnle upon his countenance. The assembly heard his defence in gloomy silence, and without testifying any disapprobation. The advocate divided his address into two parts — the prineijjles of right, and the facts charged upon Louis XVI. Although the assemlily, by deciding that the king should be tried by it, had explicitly declared that the inviolability coidd not be invoked, Deseze argued suc- cessfully that nothing could limit the defence, and that its scope remained unfettered even after the decree ; consei|iKiitly, if Louis XVI. deemed the inviolability etUraciuus, he had a right to urge it. He was obliged preliminarily to acknowledge the sove- reignty of the peoi)le ; and, with all the defenders of the constitution of 1791, he contended tliat the sove- reignty, albeit absolute and uncontrolled, could be bound; that it had so inten(k'd with reference to Louis XVI., when covenanting tlie invi()lal)ility ; that it had not designed an al)sur(lity in the system of the monarchy ; tiiat in consequence the obligation was valid, and ought to be executed ; and that all conceiv- able crimes, had the king committtMl siK'li, could be punished oidy by eople solicited reforms iu the criminal legislation, for the purpose of alleviating the treatment of persons under accusation, and he in- stituted those reforms ; the people wished that many thousands of Frenchmen, whom the rigour of our laws had hitherto deprived of rights which l)elong to citi- zens, should ac(|nire or recoviT those riglits, and he caUed them to tlieir enjoyment by his laws ; the people craved liiiert}', and he gave it tiiein ! lie even anti- cipated them in liis sacrifices ; and yet it is in the name of these same i)eo])le that you are asked this day Citizens, I will not finish — I pause before history. Hetlect that it will judge your judgment, and that its decision will be the decision of ages!" Louis XVI., speaking inunediately after his advo- cate, uttered a few words he had previously transcribed. " You have just heard my grounds of defence," said he, "and I will not reiterate tliem. Addressing you l)erliai)s for the last time, I declare to yon that "my conscience ri'])roaches me with nothing, and tliat my advocates liavi- told you the truth. I never feared a ])ublic examination of my conduct, but my heart is torn to find iu the articles of impeach- ment the charge of having wilfully shed the blood of the peoi)lc, and es])ecially that the calamities of th«) loth August are attributable to me. ■2-2ii HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. I confess I deemed the multiplied proofs I had at all times given of my love for the peoi)le, and the con- duct which I had always pursued, oimlit to have suf- ficiently demonstrated "that I never sliruiik from ex- posing myself to spare tlieir blood, and to have for ever averted from nie such an iinputntioTi." The president then inquired of Louis XVI. -whether he had anv thing further to allege in liis defence. Louis liaving declared that he had urged all he intended, the president informed liim he might withdraw. Be- ing conducted into an adjacent room with his advo- cates, his solicitude was aroused for the young Descze, who gave tolcens of exhaustion from his lengthened l)leadang. Again seated in tlie carriage, he discoursed with hfs accustomed serenity to those avIio escorted him, and reached the Temple at five o'clock. He had scarcelv ([uitted the convention ere a violent storm hurst forth within it. One party maintained that a discussion sliould be opened, whilst the other, exclaiming against the eternal delays interposed to the conclusion of the trial, demanded an innnediate vote, alleging that every tribunal, after liaving lieard the accused, proceeded to gatlier the opinions. Lanjuinais liad been moved, since tlie commencement of the pro- ceedings, with an indignation wliich the impetuosit\' of his character no longer i^ermittcd liim to restrain. He sprang to the tribune, and amidst tlie shouts his presence excited, moved, not an adjournment for dis- cussion, but the abrogation of tlie whole process. Kaising his voice, lie asserted that the sway of tlie ferocious was over, and that the assembly must not be dishonoured by constituting itself tlie judge of Louis XVI. ; that none in France possessed such a right, and that the assembly in pai'ticular had not the vestige of a title ; that if it pretended to act as a poli- tical body, it could only take measures of secm-ity against the deposed king, but that if it acted as a tribunal, it outraged all principles, for it thereby sub- mitted the vanqiuslied to the judgment of tlie con- (pieror himself, inasnnich as the majority of the members present had proclaimed themselves the con- spirators of the 10th August. At the word " conspi- rators" a frightful tumult ensued in every part of the hall. Deafening sliouts arose : — " Order !" " To the AbViey ! " " Down from the tribune ! " It was in vain that Lanjuinais would liave justified the obnoxious word by suggesting that it ought to be understood in its favourable sense, for the lOth August was a glo- rious conspiracy. The clamour still continued, and lie finished by declaring that he would rather perish a thousand times than condemn, contrary to all law, even the most execrable tyrant. A crowd of speakers pressed to succeed him, and the ferment grew more boisterous. The deputies M-ould hear no more ; they rose from their seats, inter- mingled, gathered into groups, ujibraided and menaced each other : the president was obliged to put on his hat.* After an hour of agitation, tranquillity was at length restored; and the assembly, adopting the opi- nion of those who advocated a general discussion on tiie trial of Louis XVI., resolved that the discussion was ojiened, and that it should l)e continued, to the exclusion of all other business, until the decision should be pronounced. The debate was therefore resumed on the 27th. Tlie speakers already heard re-appeared at the tri- bune. Saint-Just M'as of tlie number. Tlie presence of Louis XVI., lunni)led, prostrated, and serene in his disaster, had originated certain qualms in his mind. But he silenced them by representing Louis XVI. as a modest and wily tyrant, who ojijiressed with mo- desty, who defended himself with modesty, and against whose insinuating blandness it was necessary to be most strongly guardetL He had convoked the states- * [Tliis is the last expedient adopted by the president in the French national assemblies to rec:ill the members to order, after he has vainlj exhaiihtcU tlie more usual appeal, the ringing of his bell.1 general, certainly, but it was to humble the nobility and reign by dividing; consequently, when he saw the power of the states swell so rapidly, he attempted to annihilate it. On the 14th July, on the 5th and 6th October, he was known to have secretly accumu- lated means for overwhelming the people ; but each time his conspiracies were foiled by the national energy, he feigned a voluntary return from his evil courses, and exhibited a h^-pocritical and unnatural joy at his own discomfitui'e and the people's triumph. Subsequently, being unable to make use of force, he corrupted the defenders of liberty, jdotted witli the foreign foe, and drove his ministers to despair, one of whom felt compelled to address him by letter in these words — " Your secret relations prevent me from exe- cuting the laws, and I resign." In tine, he had put in vogue all the expedients of the deepest perfid}' up to the 10th August ; and now he still afi'ected a delusive mildness to stagger his judges and snatch an escape. It was thus that the vacillations of Louis XVI., so natund under his circumstances, were judged in a violent mind, which saw a marked and studied perfidy where merely weakness and regret for the past pre- vailed. Other speakers succeeded Saint-Just, and great impatience began to be manifested for the appear- ance of the Girondists in the debate. They had not yet committed themselves, but the time for explanation had now come. We have already alluded to the doubts that weighed with them, to the emotions wherewith they were affected, and to their tendency to extenuate in Louis XVI. a resistance they were so much more capable of comprehending than their opponents. Vergniaud avowed before some friends the deep com- miseration he felt. Without being equally moved, perhaps, the others were all disposed to svnnpathise with the victim; and, in this position, they devised an expedient which strikingly betrays all their feelings and all their embarrassment; this was an appeal to the people. To get rid of a dangerous responsibility, and throw upon the nation the o: \ip tlie con- duct of Loviis XVI. to all the bitterest animadversions of the republicans, and allowing that he richly merited the utmost severity with which it was possible to treat him, he insisted nevertheless that the assembly was called, upon to perform a gi'eat political act, and not a mere act of vengeance; wherefore the question ought to be strictly judged with reference to the i)nblic inte- rest. Now, in either case of acquittal or condenmation, he perceived striking inconveniences. An acquittal ■would be a perpetual source of discord, and the king would become the rallying cry for all parties. The remembrance of his delinquencies woidd be constantly recalled to the assembly as a standard reproach upon its weakness ; such impunity Avould be a public scandal, likely to provoke popular revolts, and certain to be seized as a pretext by all agitators. The infamous men who had already j^aralysed the state by their Climes, would not fail to fomid upon this act of cle- mency reasons of justification for fresh excesses, pre- cisely as they proclaimed themselves authorised by the slowness of the tribimals to perpetrate the massa- cres of September. From all quarters, in short, the assembly would be accused of having lacked the cou- rage to terminate the universal excitement, and to consolidate the republic by an energetic and terrible example. Condemned, the king would bequeath to his family all the pretensions of his race, and leave them to brothers more dangerous than himself, because they were less despised for weakness. The people, havmg no longer the crimes but the atonement before their eyes, would probablj^ be induced to commiserate tiie fate of the king, antl the factious would again find in that disposition a means of exasperating them against the National Convention. The sovereigns of Europe at present preserved an ominous silence, in expectation of an event which they looked forward to as the crowTiing iniquity, as the signal for an outbiu'st of general detestation; but so soon as the head of the king had fallen, all, taking advantage of that pretext, would simultaneously pour on France to devastate and rend her. Then, perhaps, France herself, goaded by sufferings, would execrate the convention for an act thus provocative of a cruel and disastrous war. iSuch were, argued Salles, the painful alternatives of- fered to the National Convention. In such a position, it was for the nation itself to decide, and to determine its own fate by determining that of Louis XVI. The danger of civil war was cliimerical, for no such evil had resulted from the convocation of the primary as- semblies to elect a convention to be intrusted with the destinies of France, nor did any apprehensions of such a consequence appear to be entertained upon an occa- sion eciually momentous and exciting, since the sanc- tion of the constitution was intended for submission to these same primary assemblies. The delays and the difficulties of a fresh delilK'ration in forty-four thousand assemblies were but vain objections, for the reference would be, not to deliberate, but to decide without di.scussion between the two propositions pre- sented by tlie convention. The question would l)e thus stated to the primary assemblies — " Shall I^ouis XVI. be punished with death or detained till the ]icacc?" and they would reply by the words, "de- tained," or " put to death," as tlie case might l)e. With the aid of extraordinary couriers, the answers might be brought in fifteen days from the farthest extremities of France. These sentiments had been heard with various feel- ings. Serres, deputy from the Upjier Alps, retracted his first opinion, which was for the ju(lgment, and supported an appeal to the people. liarbaroux repelled the justification of Louis XVI., without concluding with any specific motion, for lie did not venture to absolve ag.'iinst the wishes of his constituents, or con- demn against those of his friends. Buzot declared himself in favor.r of the appeal to the people ; but he modified the measure of Salles, and reconnneuded that the convention should itself take the initiative by vot- ing the death, and merely demanding from the primary assemblies a simple sanction of that judgment. Ra- baut Samt-Etienoe, that jirotestant minister who had already distinguished himself by his talents in the Constituent Assembly, exclaimed with indignation against the accunnilated powers exercised by the as- sembly. " As to myself," said he, " I am Avearj- of my portion of despotism ; I am disgnisted, tormented, re- morseful, at the tyranny that f.dls to my share, and I sigh for the moment when you shall create a tribunal which may take from me the form and aspect of a tyrant. You seek political reasons ; you will find them in history. The people of London, who had pressed so urgently for the execution of the king, were the first to curse his judges, and prostrate themselves before his successors. When Charles II. returned to the throne, the cit}' gave him a superb feast, the people gave way to the most extravagant joy, and flocked to witness the deaths of those very judges whom Charles afterwards sacrificed to the manes of his father. People of Paris, parliament of France, have you miderstood me ? " Faure boldly and energetically urged the revocation of all the decrees bearing upon the arraigmnent. The sr)mbre Robespierre at length appeared, surcharged with gaU and malice. Hi said that he also had been affected, and had felt the republican virtue shaken in his heart, at sight of the criminal humbled before the sovereigTi power. But the last proof of devotion due to the i:ountry was to stifle every emotion of sensibi- lity. He then reiterated what had been already ad- vanced upon the competence of the convention, upon the encUess delays frustrating the national vengeance, and upon the consideration observed for the tyrant, whilst the M-armest friends of liberty were attacked ■^"ithout the slightest regard. He asserted that this appeal to the people was a mere scheme similar to thiit devised by Guadet, when advocating the pm-ging scrutinj^ and that its perfidious object Avas to biing every thing into question again — the existing repre- sentation, the 1 0th August, and the republic itself. Identifying the question, as usual, M'ith himself and his enemies, he drew a comparison between the present situation and that of Jiily 1791, when it was dc])ated whether Louis XVI. shoidd be tried for the flight to Varennes. Robespierre had played an important part upon that occasion. He recalled his own dangers, the successful efforts of his adversaries to re]ilace Louis XVI. upon the throne, the slaughter of the Champ de Mars which had ensued, and the perils to which Louis XVI., when replaced on the throne, had exposed the commonwealth. With malicious perfidy, he depicted his opponents of tlie present day as the same as his opponents of former times, and represented himself as ex])oscd, and France with him, to the same dangers as then, and still by the intrigue s of those miscreants who called themselves exclusively the honest. "At this moment," added Robes])ierre, "they are silent ui)on the great interests of the country ; they abstain from declaring their o])inion ui)on the last king; but their secret and pernicious activity produces all the trouliles which agitate tlie country ; and to mislead tlie sound but often deceived majority, they assail the jiuri'st ])atriots, muler the title of a factions minority. iMinorities often resolve into majorities when the eyes of hoodwinked assemblies are opened. Virtue was always in a minority upon earth ! Unless it were so, would the earth be peoi)led b}' tyrants and slaves? Hampden* and Sylney were in the minority, for they exjiired on a si'aliold. Critias, Anitus, Ca-sar, Clodius, were in tlic majority; but Socrates was in a minority, for he swallowed hemlock— Cato was in the minority, for he tore open his bowels." Robespierre subseiiuently * [ProbiiMy Hussell is iiio.iiu . IFaiiUHlcn dk'le with tile difficulty, and deeiile the question at once and for ever, precisely to prevent it resting with tlie whole French people, who woidd have in all jirobabi- lity solved it in multitudinous battle-fields. Vergniaud, however, partaking ujion this point the opinion of liis friends, contended that civil war was not to he ai)preliended. He said that in the depart- ments the agitators had not gained the i)rei)oii(lerance which a dastardly weakness had allowed them to usurp in Raris ; tliat they liad certainly traversed the surface of the republic, but liad nowhere met with aught but scorn; and that tlie people had given the strongest proof of obedience to the law by respecting the impure blood that flowed in their veins. He sub- sequently ritliculed the fears that had been expressed respecting the actual majority, which w:ls alleged to be composed of intrigTiers, royalists, and aristocrats, and lield up to merited reproof the presumptuous as- sertion that virtue was in a minority on earth. '"Citi- zens ! " he exclaimed, " Catiline was of the minority in the Roman senate; and if that minority had pre- vailed, there was an end of Rome, the senate, and liberty. In the Constituent Assemlily, Maury and Cazales were in the minority; and if they had pre- vailed, there was an end of you. The kings also are in a minority upon earth, and to enchain the people, they assert likewise that virtue is in a minority ! They also say that the majority of populations is composed of intriguers, who must be awed to silence by terror, if empires are to be preserved from a gene- ral convulsion." He then tauntingly asked whetlier, in order to con- stitute a majority conformable to the desires of certain men, it was deemed expedient to employ banishment and death, to convert France into a desert, and thus abandon it to the conceptions of frantic miscreants. After having avenged the majority of France, he ^^ndicated himself and his friends, whom he exhibited constantly resisting, and with equal courage, all des- potisms — that of the court and that of the brigands of September. He pourtrayed them, during the day of the lOtli August, sitting calmly amidst the roar of cannon from the palace, and pronouncing the deposi- tion before the victory of the people, wliilst those Rrutuses, so eager now to throttle prostrate tjTants, hid their terrors in the bowels of the earth, and there ignominiously awaited the issue of the uncertain com- bat waging by liberty against despotism. He then retorted upon his adversaries the reproach of stirring up civil Avar. " Yes," said he, " those are the genuine instigators of civil war, who, preaching assassination against the partisans of tyranny, apply that epithet to all the victims their hatred prompts them to destroy ; those who invoke poniards against the representatives of the people, and clamour for the dissolution of the government and of the convention ; those who conspire that tlie minority may become the arbiter of the majority, that it may enforce its decrees by insurrections, and that the Catilines may be called to dominion in the senate. They desire civU war who inculcate these maxims in all public places, and mystify the people by stigmatising reason as Feuil- hntism, justice as pusillanimity, and sacred humanity as conspiracy." " Civil war ! " exclaimed the orator, rebuking Robes- pierre, "by invoking the sovereignty of the people' But in July 1791 \'ou were more modest — you were not then so solicitous to depreciate it and usurp its functions. You busied yourself in circulating a peti- tion praying the assembly to consult the people on the judgment to be passed on I>ouis XVI. after the return from Vareimes ! At that time you upheld the sove- reignty of the peoj)le, and were far from surmising that its invocation was equivalent to civil war ! W;us it because it then favoured your secret views, and it now thwarts them ? " Vergniaud subsequently turned to other considera- tions. It had been said that the assembly ought to evince sufficient greatness and courage to execute its judgment without seeking to support itself by the opinion of the peojile. " Courage was needed," said he, " to attack Louis XVI. in the plenitude of his power — is much required to send Louis, vanquished and disarmed, to the scaffold ? A Cimbrian soldier entered the cell of Marius to kill him ; terrified at the aspect of his victim, he fled without daring to strike. Do you doubt if that soldier had been a member of the senate, he would have hesitated to vote the death of the tyrant ? What courage do you discover in an act of which any poltroon is capable ? " IIISTOIIY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 231 Adverting to anotlior order of courage, that wliich must be displayed against foreign powers, he said, " Since you talk continually of a great political act, it is not inexpedient to consider the question iu that light. We are well aware that the powers merely wait for this concluding pretext to pour all together upon France. She will van(iuish them, doubtless ; the heroism of the French soldiers is a sure guarantee; but war will comijel an increased expenditure, addi- tional efforts of all kinds. If, then, hostilities induce fresh emissions of assignats, thereby enhancing ui a fearful propoition the price of the first necessaries of life — if they give new and mortal stabs to commerce — if they cause torrents of blood to flow on land and sea — what great benefits will you have conferred on huma- nity ? What gi-atitude will your country owe you for having perpetrated in its name, and in despite of its contemned sovereigntj% an act of vengeance, become the cause, or even the pretext, of events so calami- tous ? I discard," emphatically exclaimed the speaker, " every idea of discomfiture ; but will you dare vaunt your services ? There will not be a family without a father or a son to mourn ; agriculture will soon lan- guish for want of hands to till ; the workshops will be forsaken ; your exhausted exchequer will demand fresh taxes ; the social body, worn out by the assaults made upon it from without by armed enemies, from within by contending factions, will fall into a mortal languor. Tremble lest amidst those triumphs France may not resemble those famous monuments which in Egypt have vanquished time : the stranger as he passes wonders at their greatness : should he jiene- trate, what meets his eye ? — inanimate ashes and the silence of the tomb." Besides these fears, there were others which pre- sented themselves to the mind of Vergniaud ; they were suggested to him bj' the history of England, and by the conduct of Cromwell, the principal but hidden author of the death of Charles I. That man, always stimulating the people, first against the king, then against the parliament itself, eventually broke his feeble mstrmnent and seated hhnself in supreme power. " Have you not heard," added Vergniaud, on this topic, " within these walls and elsewhere, men crying, * If bread be dear, the cause is at the Temple; if specie be scarce, if our armies be badly provided, the cause is at the Temple ; if we have to suffer the daily spectacle of indigence, the cause is at the Temple!'" Those who hold this language, nevertheless, are not ignorant that the high price of bread, the deficient supplies of food, the defective administration in the war departments, and the indigence which so acutely afflicts om- sensibilitj% are owing to other causes than any at the Temple. What, then, are their designs ? Who M'ill assure me that those same men who strive so pertinaciously to degrade the convention, and would have jierhaps succeeded in that object if the majesty of the people, which resides in it, cmdd by any possi- bility have been affected by their falsehoods — those same men who everj' where ])roclaim that a new revo- lution is necessary, who induce such and such sections to declare themselves in a state of permanent insur- rection, who say at the commune that when the con- vention succeeded Louis they did but cliange their tyrant, and tiiat another Idtli August is indispeiisal)le ; those men who speak only of ]>lots, deatli, traitors, proscriptions, who inculcate in tlie sectional assem- blies, and i)i their pnl>lications, tliat a defender nuist be named for the rei)ul)lic, that its lioi)e of safety rests in a single chief — who will assure me, I ask, that those same men will not exclaim, after tiie death of Loviis, with exaggerated violence, '' If bread be dear, the cause is in the convention ; if specie be scarce, if our armies be hadhf provided, the cause is in the convention ; if the machine of government be moved with dificulti/, the cause is in the convention intrusted with its direction ; if the calamities of war have been aggravated bi/ the declarations of England a7id Spain, the cause is the convention, which provoked those declarations by the precipitate condemna- tion of Louis?' Who will assure me that aroimd those seditious cries of turbulent anarchy there will not rally an aristocracy thirsting for vengeance, misery eager for change, and even the pity inveterate prejudices will have excited for the fate of Louis ? Who will assure me that in this tempest, during whose fury the assas- sins of September wiU be seen starting from their dens, there will not be presented to you, steeped iu gore and saluted as a liberator, that defender, that chief who is said to be so indispensable? A chief ! ah ! if such were their audacity, his ajjpearance would be the signal for a thousand daggers to be planted in his body I Rut to what horrors would not Paris in the interim be abandoned — Paris, Avhose heroic cou- rage against kings posterity will admire, and never conceive its ignondnious subjection to a handfid of brigands, the refuse of the human species, agitating in its very heart, and tearing it in every direction in the convulsive throes of their madness and ambition! Who would Ije able to inhabit a city where terror and di-ath held sway? And you, industrious citizens, wliose industry produces all wealth, and for whom the means of industry Mould be destroyed — you who have made such gi'eat sacrifices for the revolution, and from whom the last remnant would be wrested — you whose virtues, ardent patriotism, and pure sincerity, have too easily rendered you open to seduction — what would become of you? what resources woidd you have? what hands woidd stanch your wounds and administer succour to your wailing families ? Would you seek those false friends, those pei'fidious flatterers, who had precii^itated you into the abyss" Alas ! ratlier fly them ! Dread their reply ! I will foretell it to you. You would ask of them bread, and they would say to you, ' Go into the quarries, and dis- pute with the earth for some bleeding fragments of the victims you have slaugldered !' or, ' U ill you have blood? Here take, this is blood and human flesh, we have no other sustenance to offer you !' You shudder, citizens ! Oh, my country ! I invoke thee to attest the efforts which I make to save thee from this terrible crisis." Vergniaud's extemporary oratory produced a pro- found impression upon his auditors, and excited gene- ral admiration. Robespierre had slunk abashed beneath tlie fire of his frank and vigoroiis eloquence. Rut although it had shaken, it failed to persuade the as- sembly, which still hesitated between the two parties. Several speakers were successively heard for and against the appeal to the ])cople. Rrissot, Gensonne, and Petion, all sii])p()rted it in tlieir turns. Eventually a deputy rose, who o];eratcd a decisive influence upon the question : this was Rarrere. From his pliability, his cold and evasive reasoning, he was at once the type and the oracle of the centre or Plain. He dis- coursed largely upon the trial, viewed it in all its phases as regarded facts, laws, and policy, and su])- I)lied motives for cor.deminng to all tliose feeble minds who only required specious grounds for yielding. His mediocre arguments served as cflicient pretexts to all who hung in trembling susjjense ; and from that mo- ment the unhapjw monarch's doom was sealed. The debate was i)rolonged till the 7th January 1793, by which time every one was thorougldy weary of the monotonous repetition of the same facts and argu- ments. It was declared dosi'd witliout o])i)osition ; but a m(>tion for a fresh adjournment excited a tumult of the nost violent description, but was finally disposed of hy a decree definitively fixing (lie 14th January for framing the questions and calling the roll of mendiers. Wlien that fatiil day arrivi'd. an extraordinary con- course of sjiectators sin'roun(k'(l tlie assembly and filled ihe galleries. Several mend)ers i)ressed to tlic tribune, propounding various forms of sid)nntting the (|uestions. At length, after a long debate, the con- vention resolved all the questions into the three ibl- lowing: — 232 HISTORY OF THE FllENCH REVOLUTION. Is Louis Capet guilty of conspiracy against the liberty of the nation, and of crimes against the general safety of the state 9 Shalt the judgment, ivhatever it may be, be referred to the sanction of the people / ^\ltat penalty shall be inflicted on him ? The wliole day was consumed in settling the ques- tions. The loth was devoted to the call of members. The assembly passed a preliminary resolution that rach member should pronounce his vote in the tribune; that the vote misht be accompanied with reasons, and should be written and signed ; that the absent without cause should be censured, but that those who subse- quently appeared might record their votes, even after the call was finished. At last this dreaded call com- menced upon the first question. Eight members were absent on account of illness, and twenty on commis- sions of the assembly. Thirty-seven, alleging diflTerent reasons for their conclusion, acknowledged Louis XVI. guilty, but declared themselves incompetent to pro- nounce a sentence, and demanded mere general mea- sures of precaution against him. Six hmidred and eighty-three members declared Louis XVI. guilty, ^v^thout explanation. The assembly was composed of 749 members. The president, in the name of the National Con- vention, declared Louis Capet "guilty of conspiracy against the liberty of the nation, and of crimes against the general safety of tlie state." The call recommenced on the second question, that of the appeal to the people. Twenty-niue members were absent. Four, namely, Lafon, Waudelaincourt, Morisson, and Lacroix, declined to vote. The deputy Noel protested. Eleven gave their opinions coupled with different conditions. Two hundred and eighty- one voted for the appeal to the people ; foiu- lumcked and twenty-three rejected it. The president declared, in the name of the National Convention, that " the sentence on Louis XVI. shall not be referred to the ratification of the people." The whole of the 13th was taken up in the indivi- dual vote upon the two fu-st questions ; the thuxl was adjourned to the sitting of the following day. The excitement in Paris grew more intense as the decisive moment approached. At the theatres, cries in favom* of Louis XVI. had been uttered during the representation of a piece called " The Friend of the Laws." The commune had ordered the suspension of all theatrical exhibitions ; but the executive coimcil had revoked the measure as an attack on the liberty of the press, under which category the liberty of the stage was comprehended. In the prisons the inmates were in the deepest consternation. Rumours had gone abroad that the frightful days of September were to be renewed, and the prisoners and their relatives be- sieged the deputies with supplications to save them from death. The Jacobins, on their side, asserted that conspiracies were hatching in all quarters to screen Louis XVI. from punishment and to re-establish royalty. Tlieir rage, stimulated by the delays and obstacles opposed to its gratificatif)n, broke out into more furious menaces ; and the two parties were thus additionally incensed against each other by their mu- tual suspicions of sinister designs. The multitude congregated around the hall of the assembly on the morning of the 16th, far exceeded the numbers of the previous days. The proceedings of that day were to be decisive, for the verdict of guilty became in reality of no value if Louis XVI. were simply condenmcd to banishment, and the object of those desirous to save him wtmld be fuUy gained, since all they could possil)ly hope for at the moment was to snatch him from the scafibM. The galleries had been early usurped by the Jacobins, and their eyes were intently fixed on the tribune, where each deputy was to appear Avlien recording his vote. Several hours were consumed by the convention in attending to measures of public order, in summoning and hearing the ministers, and in eliciting explanations from the mayor respecting the closing of the barriers, which were alleged to have been kept shut during the day. It was ordered that they should remain open, and that the federalists then in Paris should share with tlie Parisians in doing duty throiigh the city and at all the public establishments. As the day was already far advanced, it was resolved that the sitting should be pennanent until the conclusion of the voting. At the instant the call was about to commence, a doubt was started upon the proportion' of voices necessary to pass a particular sentence. Lehardy proposed two- thirds, as in tlie criminal courts. Danton, who had just arrived from Belgium, strongly opposed that sug- gestion, and advocated the simple majorit}^ that is to say, the moiety plus one. Lanjuinais braved a fresh storm by strenuously uisistiug that, after so flagrantly violating all the other forms of justice, the convention should at least observe that which rendered two-thirds of the suffrages indispensable. " We are to vote," he exclaimed, " under the daggers and the cannons of the factious." At these words, multitudinous voci- ferations assailed the speaker, and the assembly stop- ped the debate by resolving that the formalities ob- served in its decrees were peculiar, and that, according to those formalities, they wer& all passed by a simple majority. It was now half-past seven in the evening, and the calling to vote began with the prospect of continuing through the night. Some pronounced death uncondi- tionally ; others declared for detention and banishment after peace ; a certain number voted death with a re- striction, in the form of an invitation to examine whether it might not be advisable to respite the exe- cution. INIailhe was the deviser of this restriction, which was capable of saving Louis XVI., for time was every thmg in the case, and delay equivalent to acquittal. The expedient was adopted by several members. The voting proceeded in the midst of tumult. At this moment, the interest inspired by Louis XVI. had reached its height, and many members had entered with the intention of declaring in his fixvour ; but on the opposite side, the malevolence of his enemies had likewise waxed in fierceness, and the people had been finally led to identify the cause of the republic with the death of the last king, and to deem the republic condemned and roj-alty re-established if Louis XVI. were saved. Alarmed at the ferment this popular conviction excited, several members began to dread civil war ; and, although greatly moved at the fate of Loxus, they shuddered at the consequences of an ac- quittal. This apprehension became greater at sight of tlie convention and the scene passing Avithiu its walls. As each deputy ascended the steps of the tribune, all noise was hushed to hear him ; but the mstant he had voted, marks of approbation or dis- pleasure were boisterously manifested, and followed him as he returned to his seat. The galleries received with murmiu-s every vote not for death ; their occu- pants often directed threatening gcstiu^es to the as- sembly itself. The deputies retorted from the interior of the hall, and thence resulted a tiimultuous inter- change (>f hot defiance and opprobrious phrases. This mournful and terrible scene caused many a heart to quake, and changed various resolutions. Lecointre of Versailles, whose courage was undoubted, and who had been one of the most vehement gesticulators against the galleries, came into the tribune, paused in evident tremor, and dropped from his lips the un- expected and irrevocable word — " Death." Vergniaud, v.lio liad felt so deep a sympathy for Louis XVI., and hiid even declared to his friends that he never could bring himself to condemn that unfortunate prince — Vergniaud, when he Ijeheld so lamentable a scene of uproar, believed it indicative of qxvW. war in France, and gave his vote for death, couphng it, nevertheless, with the amendment of JNIailhe. I3eing interrogated HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 233 upon his change of opinion, he replied that he felt assured civil war was ready to explode, and that lie dared not put the life of a single individual in the balance against the safety of all France. A great many of the G irondists adopted the amend- ment of jMaillie. One deputy whose vote excited an extraordinary sensation was the Duke of Orleans. Obliged to render himself acceptable to the Jacobins or perish, he pronounced the death of his kinsman, and returned to his seat amidst the imiversal and in- describable agitation caused by his A'ote.* This me- lancholy scene continued throughout the night of the 16th and the day of the 17th, till seven in the evening. The examination of the votes was awaited with breath- less anxiety. The avenues were thronged with an immense crowd, and eager uicpiiries ran from mouth to mouth as to the result of the scrvitiny. In the assembly itself great uncertainty isrevailed, for the words " detention" and " banishment" were thought to have been heard as often as the more emphatic one of " death." According to some, the condemnation had failed by one vote, whilst others alleged that the cast- ing voice rested on the other side. It was universally allowed, however, that a single suffrage might decide the question, and gi'eat solicitude Avas felt Avhether a new voter might not arrive. At that identical mo- ment a man was descried at the foot of the tribmie, moving painfidly forwards, and whose bandaged head proclaimed liim an invalid. It was Duchastel, deputy of the Deux-Sevres, avIio had risen from his bed of sickness to record his vote. His appearance was the signal for astounding vociferations. Their purport was that the conspirators had forced him out to save Louis XYI., and that he ought to be subjected to an interrogation. This the assembly refused, and sus- tained his privilege of voting in virtue of the resolu- tion Avhich admitted suffrages iifter the general call. Duchastel ascended the tribune with an air of firm- ness, and amidst the profoundest attention gave his voice for banishment. Other incidents succeeded. The minister for foreign affairs solicited liberty to speak, in order to communi- cate a note of the Chevalier d'Ocariz, the Spanish ambassador. He offered the neutrality of Spain and its good offices with the other poM'ers, if the life of Louis XVI. were spared. The impatient Mountain- eers exclaimed that this was a preconcerted diversion to originate fresh obstacles, and demanded the order of the day. Danton urged that war should be in- stantly declared against Spain. The assembly adojited in preference the order of the day. Another request was then submitted ; it was from the advocates of Louis XVI., who desired to appear before the assem- bly for the purpose of making a communication, lie- doubled cries issued from the Mountain. Robespierre insisted that all defence was terminated, that comisel could have nothing more to impart to the convention, * [The reader will probably pardon another quotation from the author of The Graphic History oftlic National Concention. It con- veys one of his best pictures. " Egalit^"', walking with a faltering step and a countenance paler tli:in the corpse already stretched in the tomb, advanced to the place where he was to put the seal to his eternal infamy ; and there, unable to utter a word in public imless it were written down, ho read, in these terais, his fearful vote : — ' Exclusively governed by my duty, anl, tlie best but the weakest of monarclis. Uin iinuestors bequejithed liim a revolution. He was more fitted than any of them to prevent or terminate it, for lie was capable of being a reforming king before it broke out, or of being, after its explosion, a constitutional king. He is tlie only prince, perhaps, wlio, without passions, had not even that of power; and wlio combined the two qualities whieh make good kings, the fear of God and love for the people. He perished the victim of passions he did not partake— those of tlie persons sur- rounding him, which were alien to him, and those of the multi- tude, which he had not excited. Tliere are few kingly memories equally worthy of praise. History will say of him that, with a little more strength of mind, he had stood alone in the list of kings." — MUjmi, vol. i. p. i:l»). " The siglit of the royal corpse produced divers sensations in the minds of the spectators. Sime cut off p;uts of his dress; others sought to gJithcr a few fr.igmentsof his hair ; a few dipp<9d their sabres in his blood ; and many hiu'ried from the scene, joy the multitude ahvays manifests at the birth, the accession, or the fall of priuces. CHAPTER XIX. P0.SIT10N OF PARTIES AFTER THE DEATH OF LOUIS XVI. ASPECT OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS. SECOND COALITION AGATN.ST FRANCE. STRUGGLES BETWEEN THE GIRON- DISTS AND MOUNTAINEERS. ESTABLISHMENT OF THE EXTRAORDINARY CRIMINAL TRIBUNAL. The death of the unfortunate Louis XVI. had pro- duced profound consternation in France, and mingled astonishment and indignation in Europe. As the more discerning revolutionists had foreseen, the nation was irretrievably committed to the most rancorous hosti- lities, and every avenue to conciliation was irrevocably closed. The necessity was thenceforth imposed on the revolution of waging battle against the coalesced thrones and vanquishing them, or itself shiking be- neath tlieir assaults. Nor was any attempt made to conceal tlie danger ; in the assembly, in the Jacobin Clul), every where, in fact, it was proclaimed that external defence ouglit to be the material object of attention ; and from this moment the topics of w:ir and finance were constantly inscribed on the order of the day. AVe have seen with w'nat apprclicnsicms the two domestic parties regarded each other. The Jacoliins thought they beheld a dangerous lurking of royalism in the resistance offered to the condemnation of Louis XVI., and in the horror manifested by several of the departments at the excesses committed since the 10th August. To the last moment, therefore, they had doubted their victory ; but the easy execution of the 21st January finally dispelled all their forebodings. Thenceforward they deemed it possible that the cause of the revolution should flourish ; and they drew up addresses with the view of enlightening the depart- ments and effecting their conversion. The Girondists, on the contrary, already struck with commiseration for the fate of Louis XVI., and now alarmed besides at the triumph of their adversaries, began to discover in the catastrophe of the 21st January the prelude to long and sanguinary outrages, and the first stc]) to- wards that inexorable system they so sti'enuously re- sisted. Their o])i)onents, indeed, had conceded them the prosecution of the authors of September ; but it was a nominal and sterile advantage. In abandoning Louis XVI., their main desire had been to demon- strate that they were not royalists ; in abandoning the Septembrisers, the others had been anxious to escape the charge that they protected crime; but neither instance tended, save in a very remote degree, to convince or to mitigate distrust on the one side or the other. The Jacobins stiU looked upon them as lukewarm republicans, if not as royalists, and they in evincing in their countenances the most jioignant grief. An Englislinian, bolder than the resi, threw Iiimself at the foot of the scaffold, dipped his handkerchief in the blood which covered the ground, and disappeared. In tlie capital, the great body of the citizens appeared to lie overwhelmed by a general stupor ; they hardly ventured to look each other in the face on the streets ; sadnejis was depicteii on every countenance ; a licavj' disquietude seemed to have taken possession of evei-y mind. The day following the execution they had not got the better of their consternation, which appeared then to have readied the members of the convention, who were iistonished and terrified at .so bold a stroke, and the possible con- sequences with whicli it might be followed. Immediately after the execution, the body of Louis XVI. wiw transiioited into the ancient cemetery of the Madolcina ; it was placed in a ditch sLx feet square, witli its back against the wall of the Rue d'Anjou, and covered with quicklime, wliicli was the cause of its being so diliieiilt afterwards, in IHl.j, to discover the smallest traces of his remainB."'— ///>/. n/Cun. vol. ii. p. 13.] fW- ''"'^A' ::'^W//.'ylm. fMm//^-^- ://: ^rlf'Ut^l'ejJu^ J i^^^'^*^^^ /A^>mrr^ 64.^..^- S^^n/Tn^ /^S.uu.Jr.cay/' HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 237 return continm;d to view tlnjir eneiiiies as men defiled with blood and carnage. Roland, comiiletely disconragcd, not at the danger he incurred, hut at the evident impossibility of being serviceable, sent in liis resignation on the 23d Janu- ary. The Jacobins congratulated themselves on the event, but siJcedilj^ raised the cry that tlie ministry still contained the traitors Claviere and Lebrun, a\ honi Brissot du'ected as his tools ; that the evil was far from being eradicated ; and that they nuist not relax in their exertions, but, on the contrary, redouble their activity, mitil they had finaUj^ purged tlie government of intriguers, Girondists, Holandists, Urissotins, &c. On the other hand, the Girondists demanded the re-orga- nisation of tlie war ministry, which Pache, by his imbecile submission to the Jacobhis, had brought into a most deplorable condition. After violent debates, Pache was dismissed as incompetent. Thus the two leaders who divided the ministry, and whose names had become the rallymg cries of party, were excluded from the government. The majority of the conven- tion believed that this expedient was an advance to- wards peace, as if by suppressing the names used b}' opposmg passions, the passions themselves were not siu-e to survive, seek out fresh mottoes, and continue their contest. Bem-nonville, the friend of Dumom-iez, and surnamed the French Ajax, was called to the achninistration of the war department. He was as yet known to the parties only by his gallantry ; but his attacliment to discipline was speedily to ];lace him in opposition to the disorganising genius of the Jacobins. After tlicse proceedings, the assembly ordered finan- cial questions to take precedence as orders of the day, since, at this critical moment, wlien the revolution had to withstand the shock of all Europe, they were confessedly the most important. At the same time, it directed tliat the constitution committee should pre- sent its report in fifteen days at the latest; and re- solved tliat it would immediately afterwards devote itself to tlie public consolidation. Numerous indivi- duals, not correctly appreciating the causes of revo- lutionary troubles, imagined that it was the want of laws which provoked all the disasters of the country, and tliat tiie constitution ■would allay all dissensions. Under this persuasion, many of the Gii'ondists, and aU the members of the Plain, continually demanded the constitution, and complained bitterly of the delay observed in completing it, alleging with energy that their mission was to constitute. And this they main- tained in perfect sincerit}' ; all of them were impressed with the idea that they had been convoked for this purpose alone, and that their assigned task could be accomplished in a few months. They had not yet been made aware that they were assembled, not to institute but to combat ; that their fearful mission was to de- fend the revolution against Europe and La Vendi'C ; that they woidd soon he converted from the delibera- tive body they then formed mto a sanguinary dicta- torship, at once proscribing domestic foes, fighting liatlles against Europe and revolted provinces, and defending themselves on all sides Avith the resources of violence ; that Iheir laws, transitory as the crisis, would be viewed merely as the eniiuiations of angry excitement ; and that of their varied labours, all Ihat would endure was tlie glory of their defence, the un- exampled and terrible mission imposed upon Iheni by destiny, but which they themselves were as yet far from deeming the only one in store for them. Meanwliile, eitlier from the exhaustion of a pro- longed struggle, or from tlie unanimity of sentiment on the subject of Avar, all being in harmony on the necessity of making a vigorous defence, and even of provoking the enemy, an interval of (juietude suc- ceeded tiie fierce agitation which had marked tlie course of the king's trial, and even Brissot was imi- vcrsally applauded for his diplomatic ivports upon the relations with foreign x'oAvers. Such, then, was the domestic situation of France, and the state of the parties Avhicli divided it. Her position with respect to Europe Avas most alarming. It was, in trutli, a general rupture Avith all the poAvers. Hitherto France had only had three declared enemies, Piedmont, Austria, and Prussia. The revolution, every Avhere approved by the people according to the degree of their enlightenment, eA'ery Avliere abhorred by the govermnents in the ratio of their fears, had recently excited very difierent sensations throughout the Avorld, by the terrible events of the 10th August, the 2d and 3d September, and the 21st Januaiy. Less contemned since it had so energetically defended itself, but also less esteemed since it had sidlied itself with crimes, it had ceased to interest nations so Avarnily as before, but taught governments to regard it with a considerable abatement of disdain. The Avar, then, Avas henceforth to become general. Our previous pages have shoAvn Austria giving way to family considerations, and embarking in hostilities little conducive to her interests ; Prussia, whose natu- ral policy pointed to an alliance Avith France against the head of the empire, throAving her annies across the Rhine, upon most frivolous pretences, and retreat- ing from the inglorious campaign of the Argoune ; Catherine of Russia, once so addicted to philosophy, deserting, like all the other flutterers in courts, the cause she had formerly espoused from vanity, assail- ing the revolution in accordance Avith the dictates as well of policy as of feeling, craftily stimulating Gus- tavus, the Emperor of Austria, and the King of Prus- sia, in order to distract their attention from Poland, and drive them towards the west ; Piedmont, attack- mg France against its interests, but from motives of kinsmanship and of hatred for the re\'olution; the petty com-ts of Italy, detesting the new republic, but not daring to attack it — nay, even acknoAvledging it at sight of the tricolom'ed flag ; Switzerland observ- ing a strict neutrality ; Holland and the Germanic diet avoiding any decisive manifestation, bvit allowing their profomid abhorrence to be perceptible ; Spain preserving a prudent neutrality, vmder the counsels of the sagacious Count d'Aranda ; and, lastly, England, leaving France to tear herself to pieces, the continent to exhaust itself, and the French colonies to convert themselA'cs into Avastes — in short, abandoning the jiur- suit of lier vengeance to the inevitable disorders of a revolution. The new revolutionary impetuosity Avas destined to disturb all these studied neutralities. Hitherto, Pitt had regulated his conduct upon fair and indisputable principles. In England, a partial revolution, Avhich had but half regenerated the social state, had left in subsistence a multitude of feudid mstitutions, Avliich of course were objects of warm attachment to the aristocracy and the court, and of severe invective to the opposition. Pitt had two ol)jects in view : the first, domestic, consisted in moderating aristocratic repug- nance on the one hand, and checking the spirit of re- form on the otlu!r, and thus preserving his ministry 1)3' controlling the two parties ; the second, foreign, contemjilated the jirostration of France under tlie weight of her own disasters, and the hatred of all the Eur()])ean governments ; in a word, he Avished to ren- der iiis country mistress of the Avorhl, and to be master of that country; such Avas the twofold design he jiur- sued, Avith the selfishness and strength of purpose characteristic of a great statesman. Neutrality suited his designs most admirably. By abstaining from Avar, he curbed Ihe blind hatred of his court for liberty ; by allowing all the excesses of the French revolution to take free and unrestricted development, he Avas daily su])i>lieil Avith sanguinary ansAvers in refutation of the aiiologists of that revolution— answers Avhich in truth proved nolliing, but ])rodu<'ed, nevertheless, a materiid cfVeet. lie invariably retorted ujion the celebrated Fox, the most eloquent man in the ranks of opposi- tion, and indeed in all England, by citing the crimes 238 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. of reformed France. Upon Burke, an impassioned declaimer, devolved the duty of recapitidatinfj these crimes, a task of which he acquitted himself with ab- surd violence ; he proceeded on one occasion to such a pitch of extravairance as to throw a dagger on tlie floor of the House of Commons, proclaimin"? it the manufacture of proselytising Jacobins. "Whilst at Paris Pitt was accused of fomenting troubles by lar- gesses, at London he accused the French revolution- ists of distributing money to excite rebellion, and the French emigrants gave additional weight to such rumours bv diligently repeating and accretUting them. Thus, whilst by this astute policy, worthy a discijjle of Machiavel, he rendered French liberty distasteful to the English, lie stirred u]i all Europe against France herself, and, by his envoys, disposed its numerous governments to take up arms. In Switzerland he had not succeeded, but at the Hague, the docile stadtliolder, to whom one revohition had been matter of personal experience, who was still distrustful of his people, and had no other support than the English squadrons, had given him unlimited satisfaction, and demonstrated his animosity to France by various unequivocal and hostile proceedings. It Avas, however, more especially in Spain that Pitt employed a persevering course of intrigue to induce that power to adopt the most in- considerate step it ever took, that of uniting with England against France, its only maritime ally. The Spanish people had been but slightly moved at the French revolution, and the reasons tending to indis- pose tlie cabinet of Madrid against it Avere less those of security and policy than those resulting from family sympathy, and from the antipathy felt in common by all governments. The prudent Count d'Aranda, resist- ing the intrigues of the emigrants, the impatient spirit of the Spanish aristocracy, and the instigations of Pitt, had carefidly conciliated the jealous susceptibility of the French government. Eventualh" overthrown, how- ever, and displaced ft)r Don ilanuel Godoj^ afterwards Prince of Peace, he left his unfortimate country a prey to the most fatal counsels. The cabinet of ]\Iadi-id had throughout avoided any explicit avowals with respect to France ; at the period of the definitive sentence on Louis XVI., it had oifered its political recognition, and its mediation with the other powers, if the de- throned monarch were permitted to enjoy life in safety. In reply to this proposition, Danton had moved a de- claration of war, but the assembly simply adopted the order of the day. Since that moment, the inclination for war was no longer a subject of doubt. Catalonia was filled with trooj)*! ; in all the ports, armaments were fitted out, and an immediate attack was resolved upon. Pitt's success, therefore, was secured, whilst he himself, without yet openly declaring his intentions, without compromising England too precipitately, took all needful time to place her navv on a formidabie foot- ing, kept her aristocracy in good liumour by his vast preparations, and fostered public indignation against France and her revolution by declamatoiy publica- tions, for which he largely disliursed tlie national funds. Thus silently augmenting his resources, he at the same time inspirited a preponderating league against France, which, comjik-tely engrossing all her strength, effectually i)revented her eitlier from suc- couring her colonies or arresting the progress of the English arms in the Indian peninsula. At no period is Europe recorded to have been stricken with so perfect a blindness, and to have com- mitted against herself so many astounding follies, as at the one now under review. Thus, turning our eyes to the west, wc behold Spain, Holland, and all the maritime powers, under tlie misguiding influence of aristocratic passions, arming in conjunction with their enemy England against I'rance, their natural ally. Prussia likewise we see, yielding to an inconceivable vanity, uniting itself with the head of the empire against that very France whose firm alliance the great Frederick had always recommended. The insignificant King of Sardinia fell into the same eufor, from mo- tives which it must be allowed were more intelligible — the sympathies of kinsmanship. In the east and iu the north, we perceive Catherine left at liberty to perpetrate a crime against Poland, and to compromise the security of Germany, for the petty advantage of acquiring a few provinces, and of being enabled to desolate France without interference. Hence all the ancient and mutually advantageous connexions werj cast aside, and the perfitlious suggestions of the two most formidable powers weakly listened to by the various European cabinets, thus stimulated to arms against one unfortimate country, and that country the old protectress or ally of those now attacking her. All conspired to hasten that consummation, all fielded implicitly to the views of Pitt and Catherine ; incon- siderate Frenchmen overspread Europe to promote this baneful departure from all true policy and pru- dence, and to dj'aw upon their native land the most deplorable of scourges. And what were the motives of such infatuated conduct ? Poland was abandoned to Catherine, because it had presumed to regulate its old and pristine liberty ; France was abandoned to Pitt, be- cause it had presumed to give itself the liberty it never enjoyed before. Doubtless France had committed ex- cesses ; but those very excesses were sure to be aggra- vated by the Anolence of the approaching struggle; and, without succeetUng in blotting out that so much abhorred liberty, Europe was now preparing to enter upon a coiu'se which led to a thirty years' war, the most destructive in the annals of the human race, provoking interminable invasions, arousing an miiver- sal conqueror, producing endless vicissitudes and deso- lations, and finishing by the consolidation of the two colossal empires, which at the present day domineer over Europe upon the two elements — England and Kussia. Amidst this general confederacy, Denmark, ruled by a discreet minister, and Sweden, freed from the presumptuous projects of Gustavus, alone observed a prudent caution, which Holland and Spain would have done well to imitate, by joinmg the system of the armed neutrality. The French government had formed a perfectly correct judgment upon these gene- ral dispositions, and the impatience which characte- rised it at this moment did not achnit of its tarrying for formal declarations of war, but urged it, on the contrary, to precipitate them. Since the 10th August, it had continually demanded its recognition ; but with regard to England, whose neutrality was pre- ci(5us on account of the enemies already dra^vn up in array against it, it had still preserved a certain mode- ration in its tone. But after the 21st January, it had thrown all such considerations aside, and at once determined upon an universal war. Convinced that secret attacks were not less dangerous than open and avowed hostilities, it hastened to make its enemies declare themselves ; and so early as tlie 22d January, tlie National Convention passed all the cabinets in review, directed rej^orts upon the conduct of each with respect to France, and stood prepared to pro- claim war against them, should they procrastinate in furnishing explicit and categorical exi)lanations. Since the lOth August, England had witlidrawn her ambassador from Paris, and only permitted as French ambassador in London, M. Ciiauvelin, in the capacity of envoy from the extinct royalty. These diplomatic refinements were simply intended to keep up appearances as regarded the imprisoned king, and at the same time to defer hostilities, for which the time was not yet ripe. Accordingly, Pitt pretended to require a secret agent to unfold his complaints against the French government. The citizen Maret was charged with this mission in the month of De- cember. He had a confidential interview with Pitt After mutual protests, to the purport that the inter- view possessed no official character, that it was strictly amicable, and had no other object save the beneficent HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 239 hope of tendina: to satisfy the two nations as to their rec'iprociil crrievances, Pitt complained that France threatened tlie alUes of Enf^land, even assailed their interests, and, in corroboration of his assertion, pointed to Holland. The injnry here alleged was the oiiening of the Scheldt, a measure imprudent, perhaps, but just and beneficial, which the French had adopted on their entrance into the Low Countries. In truth, there was something; inexpressibly absurd in tlie old obser- vance, that to secure the Dutch a monopoly of its navigation, the Low Countries, through which the Scheldt passes, should be debarred from making an_y use of that river. Austria had not ventured to abolish this servitude, but Dimioiiriez did so by orders from his government ; and the inhabitants of Antwerp be- held Avith joyful emotions vessels again ascending the Scheldt as fur as tlieir city. The reply was not diffi- cult ; for France, wjien respecting the rights of neu- tral neighbours, had not undertaken to uphold politi- cal iniquities, because neutrals were interested in their preservation. Besides, the Dutch government had evinced sufficient malevolence to abrogate the neces- sity of consulting its wishes at anj^ great sacrifice. The second grievance adduced was the decree of the 1.5th November, by which the National Convention promised aid to all nations who should throw off the yoke of tyranny. This decree, an imprudent bravado, doubtless, and adopted in a moment of enthusiasm, did not mean, as Pitt feigned to believe, that the con- vention invited all nations to revolt, but that it would afford succour to the people against tlieir governments in all countries at war with the revolution. Pitt lastly complained of the constant menaces and declamations which issued from the Jacobins against all govern- ments ; but in this particular the governments were assuredly not one whit more blameless than the Jaco- bins ; and if a balance had been struck, little would have been found due to either side on the score of foul language. Tliis interview produced no resiilt, and served merely to show that England's object at the moment was to gain time ; that she had every wish for war, but judged a certain delay in its declaration expedient. However, the great trial of the month of Janiuiry accelerated events. The English parliament was suddenly con- voked before the usiud period. An inqviisitorial law was passed against all Frenchmen travelling in Eng- land ; the Tower of London was put in a state of defence, and militia-levies -were ordered : preparations and pro- clamations alike announced war to be determined upon. The po])ulace of London was purposely excited ; and throughout the island that insensate passion was stu- diously aroused, which renders a war with France ac- ceptable as if it were a signal national benefit. At length, vessels loaded with grain bound for Frencli I)orts were stopped ; and on tidings of the 2 1 st January, the French ambassador, whom the English government had hitherto refused in some sort to recognise, received orders to quit tlie kingdom williin eight days. The National Convention forthwitli directed a report to be framed upon the conduct of England with respect to France, and upon its close relations with the stadt- holder of the United Provinces; and on the first of February, after hearing Ih-issot, who, for tViat fieeting moment, o})tained the ajiplauses of botli ])arties, solenndy declared war against Holland and England. Hostilities with tlie Sjianish government, also, were innninent; and althougli war was not formally declared, that ceremony seemed tacitly waived on both sides. Thus France had almost the whole of Europe arrayed in open enmity against her; and the act whereby she had broken witli all crowned lieads, and conunittelaced under the safeguard of the French nation, so that strict accomits may be rendered through the local adnnnistrations, and the possessions them- selves serve as security for the costs of the war, whereof the delivered countries wiU of course defray a portion, since the war is midertaken f(jr their enfranchisement. ^Vfter the campaign, a balance will be struck ; shoidd the re]nil>lie be found to have received in stox'es more than the expenses due to her justly warrant, she will discharge the surplus ; if there be a deficiency, it will be made good to her. It is also indispensable that our assignats, based on the new distribution of property, should be received in the conquered countries, and that theu" field should expand with the principles which have produced them ; and, lastly, that the exe- cutive power should dispatch envoys to concert with those provisional administrations, fraternise with them, keep the accounts of the republic, and execute the ordained confiscation." He added, " No half revolu- tions ! Every nation which refuses what we now pro- pose shall be our enemy, and will richly deserve to be treated as such. Peace and fraternity to all the friends of liberty, war to the abject partisans of des- potism ! War to pa/aces, peace to cottayes!" These ideas had been forthwith endwdied in a de- cree, and carried into practical operation throughout the conquered provinces. A nndtitude of agents, selected by the executive power from the Jacobin ranks, had been inunediately disseminated througli Belgium, the provisional adnnnistrations formed umler their guidance, and those bodies urged to an exceed- ing pitch of deniagogical fury. The lowest classes, in- stigated by the Jacobin emissaries against the middle ranks, committed the most revolting disorders. They introduced, in trutli. all at once, ami without any state of transition between the old and the new order of things, the anarchy of 1793, which had been progrcs- si\'ely brought on in Franc!e by four years of troidtle and excitement. The-se proconsids, invested with al- most absolute powers, imprisoned persons and confis- cated property at pleasure; and desi)oiling the churches of all their plate, highly exasperated the unhappy HISTORY OF THE FllENCH KE VOLUTION. 241 Bulijiiins, wlio v.'cre ardently attached to the rites of their faith, and gave occasion, moreover, for extensive malversations. They assembled -wliat v/ere called con- ventions, to decide on the destiny of eacli province ; and, under their despotic influence, a union with France vras voted at Liege, Brussels, ]Mons, &c. These were I evils inevitable from the policy adopted, and were in- I finitely aggravated by the military brutality vi'liere- • with revolutionary violence was aided in producing I them. Nor were these tlie only calamities which l)ciVl ; this unfortunate country : divisions of a diflei'ent na- i ture broke out to comi)lete its misery. The agents of i the executive power pretended to hold subject to their orders the generals connnanding within the limits of their commissariat jurisdiction; and if tliose generals were not Jacobins, as often happened to be the case, this assumption became a fresh and prolific source of quarrels and struggles, which succeeded in perfecting the universal confusion. Dumouriez, indignant at see- ing liis conquests compromised, both by the disorgani- sation of his army and the liatred infused into the Belgians, had already treated with harshness some of these proconsuls, and repaired to Paris to make known his complaints, with the warmth characteristic of his temper, and the haughtiness of a victorious general who deemed himself necessary to the republic. Such Avas the situation of atfairs on the principal theatre of the Avar. On the other points, Custine, dilveu back into JMayence, passed his time in decla- mations against the manner in which Beurnonville had executed his attempt on Treves. Kellermann supported himself in the Alps, at Chambery, and at Nice. Servan was fruitlessly expending his efforts to form an army at the foot of the Pj'renees ; and Monge, equally docile towards the Jacobins as Pache, had allowed the administration of the navy department to be throAvn into a state of utter decomposition. Hence it became absolutely necessary for the convention to devote immediate and undivided attention to the de- fence of the frontiers. Dumom'iez had passed the latter part of December and the month of January at Paris, Avliere he completely wrecked his favour with the mob and its leaders, bj' letting fall certain expres- sions in behalf of Louis XVI., by absenting himself from the Jacobin Club, Avherc he was repeatedly an- nounced as about to appear, but never gratified its members by an actual entrance, and by his close inti- macy Avith his friend Gensonne. He had draAvn up four memorials, one on the decree of the 15th Decem- ber, another on the organisation of the armj', a third on the subject of supplies, and the last on the plan of the campaign for the opening year. At the foot of eacli of his memorials Avas appended his resignation, if his propositions Avere rejected. In addition to the diplomatic and military commit- tees, the assembly had appointed a tliird extraordinary connnittec, called that of general defeiwe, Avith instruc- tions to devote exclusive attention to all tliat concerned the defence of France. It Avas very numereus, and all the members of the assembly were allowed, if the}' pleased, to be jjresent at its sittings. ( )nc of the main objects revailed, in the convention at least, to give him all possible satisfaction, Avithout departing, however, from tl:e decrees already passed, or the inexorable principles of the revolution. His Iavo commissariat agents, IVlalus and Petit-Jean, Avere restored to him, numerous rein- forcements granted, promises of abundant supplies held out, and his ideas on the general plan of the ensuing campaign adopted ; but no relaxation Avas inade in the decree of the 15th December, or in the new s3-stem of administration for the army. The nomination of Beur- nonville, his friend, to the ministry of Avar, Avas an additional advantage to him ; and he might reasonably anticipate the greatest zeal on the part of gOA'crmnent in providing all that he shoidd subsequently need. He entertained the idea for a moment that England would accept him as a mediator betAveen her and France, and he departed for AntAverp full of that flat- tering hallucination. But the convention, having had its patience exhausted by the perfidies of Pitt, declared war against England and Holland, as Ave have previ- ously observed. That declaration foimd him at Ant- Averp, accompanied bj'^ an intimation of the measures that had been resolved ujion, partly framed in accord- ance Avith his OAvn plans for the defence of the territory. It Avas determined to raise the armies to 502,000 men, Avhich Avill appear but a moderate force Avhen the ideas prevalent respecting the capabilities of France are considered, and Avhen compared with the standard to which they Avere afterAvards elevated. The defensive was to be maintained on the east and south, observa- tion simply kept up along the Pyrenees and the coasts, and all the vigour of the offensive displayed in the north, Avhere, as Dumouriez had said on a former occasion, " a general could defend himself by battles alone." To secure the execution of this plan, 150,000 men Avere to occupy Belgium, and cover the frontier from Dmikirk to the ^leuse ; 50,000 Avcre to guard the interval betAveen the I\leuse andtheSarre; and 150,000 to extend along the Pliine and the Vosges, from Mayence to Besanc^on and Gex ; lastly, a reserve Avas to be stationed at Chalons, provided Avith every essential to proceed upon an}' jioint Avhere its aid might be required. It A^■as agreed to defend Savoy and Kice with tAvo armies of 70,000 men each, the Pyrenees Avith one of 40,000, and the coasts of the ocean and Brittany Avith 4(;,(K)0 men, jiart of Avhom might he transferred on board of ship if it Avere judged neces- sary. ( )i" these 502,000 men, 50,000 Avere intended for caA-alry, and 20,000 as artillery.* Such Avere tlie de- monstrations detailed on a sheet of paper; but the actual force fell far short of wjiat Avas ])rojected, sink- ing to 270,000 men, of whom 100,000 Avere in various quarters of Belgimn, 25.000 on the IMoscllc, 45,000 at i\Iayencc, under (lie orders of Custine, .'>0,00(i on the Upi)er-Khiiic, 40,000 in Savoy and Nice, and ."0,000, at llie utmost, in the interior. But to fill up the destined comiilement, the assembly decreed that the armies should lie recruited from tlie national guard; that every member thereof, unmarried, or married and cliildicss, or a Avidower Avitlioiit ott's])riug, was at the disposition of the executive power, from the age * [A numorit'iU error occurs in the text here, as the .iniount of all tlie forct'S enumerated, exelusivc of the reserve at Clifilons, is exactly .'■)7(;,iHiO men, so that the r.rtillcry and cavoh-y must have been inttnded as iii addition to the flU:i,(XH).J 242 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. of eighteen to that of forty -five. This enactment was based on the allegation that 300,000 men were neces- sary to resist the coalition ; and it directed that tlie enrolments should be proceeded with until that num- ber was obtained.* At the same time, the convention ordered the emission of eiglit hundred millions of assip- uats, and the demolition of the woods of Corsica for the construction of shijis of war. In the interim, until the accomplishment of these projects, the campaign was opened with 270,000 men. Of these, Dumourie'z IkuI 30,000 on the Scheldt and about 70,000 on the IMeuse. The rapid invasion of Holland was a bold thought, wlvch stirred all minds at the moment ; and Dumouriez Avas compulsorily driven to its adoption by the general feeling. Several plans for etfecting the object were propounded. One, invented by the Batavian refugees exiled from their country after the revolution of 1787, consisted in in- vading' Zealand with a few thousand men, and seizing upon the government, which would retreat to that pro^-ince. Dumouriez had feigned acquiescence in that project, but in truth he found it barren and piti- ful, inasmuch as it confined him to the occupation of an inconsiderable, and, furthermore, an unimi)ortant part of Holland. A second plan took its parentage from himself; it proposed to descend the Meuse by Venloo to Graves, turn from the latter place to Ni- meguen, and subsequently fall on Amsterdam. This •woiild have been the surest scheme, if the future could have been foreseen. But, stationed as he was at Ant- werp, Dumouriez formed a third project, surpassing the others in boldness and promptitude, in admirable harmony with revolutionary impatience, and more pro- lific in decisive results, if success should attend it. Whilst his lieutenants, Miranda, Valence, Dampierre, and others, were to descend the IMeuse and occupy Maestriclit, upon which the French had refrained from seizing the year before, and Venloo, which coidd not offer a long resistance, Dumouriez conceived the idea of proceeding secretly with 25,000 men between Ber- gen-op-Zoom and Breda, thus attaining INIoerdyk. then passing the small sea of Bielbos, and advancing rapidly by the mouths of the rivers to Leyden and Amster- dam. This daring plan was as defensible in reason as many others Avhich have been sanctified by success ; and if it were hazardous, it made amends by offering nmch greater advantages than that of attacking di- rectly by Venloo and Nimeguen. By pursuing the latter course, Dumouriez assailed the Dutch in front, they having already made all their preparations be- tween Graves and Gorkum, and he even allowed them time to draw reinforcements from England or Prussia. On the contrary, by passing over the mouths of the rivers, he penetrated into the interior of Holland, which was not defended ; and if he surmounted the impedi- ment of the waters, Holland fell at once into his pos- session. Returning from Amsterdam, he woidd take the fortresses in the rear, and reduce all between him and his lieutenants, wlio would be prepared to join him by Nimeguen and Utreclit. It was natural that he should assume the command of the army destined for the expedition, since in its conduct more essentially than elsewhei'e were needed promptitude, bold determination, and ability. The project itself involved the danger conmion to all offen- sive operations, to wit, exposing his own territory to invasion by imcovering it. Tiuis the Meuse remained open to the Austrians. At the same time, in all cases of reciprocal inroads, the advantage accrues to the party which most strenuously resists the peril, and is least wrought upon by tlie tcirrors of invasion. Dumouriez dispatclied Thinivenot, in wlioni he had full confidence, to the i\Iense ; he imparted to his lieutenants. Valence and Miranda, tlie plans he had hitherto concealed from them, and enjoined them to hasten the siege of Maestriclit and Venloo, and in case of unexpected delays, to relieve each other before those * Decree of the 24tli February. places, so that the progress towards Nimeguen might always proceed. He also directed them to appoint Liege and Aix-la-Chapclle as the localities for all dis- persed detachments to rally around, in order to be in a position to resist the eneni}', should he appear in force to incommode the sieges about to be midertaken on the Meuse. Dumouriez lost no time in starting from Antwerp with 18,000 troops hastily collected. He divided his little army into several detachments, which had orders to sunnnon the various strong places to smTcnder, without tarrying, however, to besiege them. His ad- vanced guard was to push on with all dispatch to seize boats and means of transport, whilst he himself, with the main bod}', woidd keep in readiness to carry suc- cour to such of his lieutenants as might require it. On the 17th February 1793, he entered tlie Dutch territorj', and published a proclamation, in whicli he held out the promise of amity to the Batavians, and the threat of hostility merely to the stadtholder and the Enghsh influence. His divisions, meanwhile, ad- vanced, leaving General Leclerc before Bergen-op- Zooni, i)lanting General Berneron before Klundert and Willemstadt, and consigning to the excellent engineer, D'Ar^on, the feint of an attack on the important for- tress of Breda. Dmnouriez halted Avith the rearguard at Sevenberghen. On the 25th, General Berneron carried the fort of Klundert, and directed all his efforts against Willemstadt. General d'Arcon threw a few shells on Breda. That fastness enjoyed a high repu- tation for strength, and the garrison was sufficient for its defence, but was badly officered ; it surrendered after a few hours' cannonade to a body of assailants scarcely exceeding its defenders in number. The French entered Breda on the 27th, and gained con- siderable spoil in munitions of war, consisting of 250 pieces of ordnance, 300,000 pomids of powder, and 5000 muskets. After leaving a garrison in Breda. General d'Arcon appeared on the 1st March before Gertruydenberg, hkewise a very strong fortification, and carried the same day all the advanced works. Dumouriez had proceeded to jNIoerdyk, and was en- gaged in repairing the evUs that had arisen from the delays of his advanced guard. So auspicious a series of surprises, iipon fortresses capable of maintaining a stout and obstinate resistance, threw infinite lustre upon the commencement of this expedition ; but un- foreseen obstacles impelled the passage of the arm of the sea, the most difficidt operation in the whole enterprise. Dumouriez had anticipated that his ad- vanced guard, acting Mith greater energy and promp- titude than it displayed, would have appropriated a quantity of boats, boldly crossed the Bielbos, occupied the island of Dort, Avhich was guarded by afew hundred men at the utmost, and seizing upon a numerous flotilla, conveyed it to the opposite shore, for the purpose (.f transporting the army over the frith. Unavoidal)le delays prevnted the execution of this part of the jdan. Dumouriez strove to compensate for the failure l)y possessing himself of all the boats or skiff's he could discover, and gathering carpenters to construct float- ing rafts. Meanwhile time was becoming hourly more precious, as the Dutch army was assembling at Gor kum, at Stiy, and in the Isle of Dort, whilst some gunboats and an English frigate threatened his em- barkation, and even cannonaded liis camp, designated by his ever s])rightly soldiery " the camp of beavei's." The troops had in fact erected huts of straw, whence tlie idea was taken ; and animated by the presence of their general, braved with admirable fortitude the intense cold, the privations and dangers affecting them, looked forward intrepidly to the coming hazards of so daring an undertaking, and impatiently awaited tlie moment for passing to the opposite strand. On tlie 3d of March, General Deflers arrived with a fresh division ; on the 4th, Gertruydenberg opened its gates ; and all was in readiness for attempting the passage of the Bielbos. HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 243 Wliilst these events were illustrating the military annals of France, the contest between the two parties of tlie interior continued in all its virulence. The murder of Lepelletier had atlbrded the Mountaineers an opportunity for proclaiming their lives in danger, and the assembly had found it impossible to deny them the renewal of the committee of surveillance. This committee was comjiosed of jMountaineers, whose first act was to order the arrest of Gorsas, a deputy' raid journalist, attached to the party of the Gironde. The Jacobins had like'.vise gained another advantage, in procm'ing the suspension of the prosecutions decreed on the 20th January against the authors of the Sep- tember massacres. Those proceedings had scarcely commenced before it was discovered that overwhelm- ing evidence implicating the principal revolutionists, and Danton himself, could be adduced. Thereupon the Jacobins stirred up the elements of fury, and vocife- rated that all were equally criminal on those days, because all had either deemed their occurrences neces- sary or quietly sulfered them. They even ventured to maintain that the only evil to be deplored on those days was the incompleteness of tlie sacrifice ; and they vehemently demanded the suspension of proceedings which were tortured into attacks on the purest revo- lutionists. In pursuance of these clamorous instances, the prosecutions were suspended, that is to say, abro- gated ; and a deputation from the Jacobin Club imme- diately appeared before the minister of justice, to ensure the transmission of a dispatch by extraordinary couriers, staying the indictments already opened against their brothers of Meaux. We have already seen that Pache had been obliged to quit the ministry, and that Roland had voluntarily submitted his resignation. This mutual concession failed to mitigate the mveteracies of hatred. The Jacobins were so far from being appeased, that they called for a prosecution against Roland, alleging, as crimes against him, that he had defrauded the state of immense sums, and remitted to London upwards of twelve millions ; that he had employed this ill-gotten wealth in perverting the jniblic mind by means of hireling writers, and in promoting sedition by fore- stalling supplies of grain. They asserted that pro- ceedings ought to be mstituted in like manner against Claviere, Lebrim, and Beurnonville, who, according to their views, were all traitors and accomplices in the intrigues of the Girondists. At the same time, they prepared for their complaisant ex-placeman a flattering and beneficial compensation. Chambon, the successor of Petion in the mayoralty of Paris, had abdicated functions too arduous for his weakness of character. The Jacobins immediately turned their eyes on Paclie, in whom they found concentred all the requisite •wisdom and inflexibility of a magistrate. The idea was warmly responded to amongst themselves, and quickly imparted to the commune, the sections, and the clubs ; and the Parisians, impelled by these over- weening influences, avenged Pache for his disgrace by nominating him their mayor. Assuming that Pache showed himself as docile in the mayoralty as in the ministry of war, the Jacobins thus assured their domi- nation in Paris ; and the choice became equally condu- cive to their interests and to the gratification of their passions. The scarcity of provisions, and the depression of trade were still continual sources of disturl)ance and complaint ; and so far from abating, tlie evil had been considerably aggravated from J3ecember to February. The fear of violence and pillage, the repugnance of the agriculturists to accept paper, and the enhancement of value arising from the surplusage of fictitious money, were, as we have previously stated, the causes which prevented the free course of trade in corn, and produced the scarcity. Nevertheless, tlie administrative ettbrts of the several communes comjiensated, to a certain extent, the inertness of trade ; and sujiplies never nh- solutely failed in the markets, but they were held at exorbitant prices. The value of assignats falling every day in the ratio of their increase, a greater amount of them was ahvays becoming necessary to purchase the same quantity of produce, and it was thus that prices were driven to such an excessive pitch. The labouring classes, receiving the same nominal value for their industry, were unable to obtain articles of necessity, and naturally broke into impatient murmurs and threats. Bread was not the only substance wliicli increased progressively in cost ; sugar, coflec, candles, and soap, likewise had doubled in value. The laun- dresses appeared at the bar of the convention to re- monstrate against the charge of thirty sous for soap, which had formeil}^ been purchasable at fourteen. It was in vain that the people were told to raise the j^rice of their labour so as to restoi'e the proportion between their wages and their consumption ; they were incapable of effecting the requisite combination for that object, and only the more vehemently exclaimed against the rich, against monopolisers, and against the trading aristocracy, concluding with a demand for the simple expedient of a fixed price or maximum. The Jacobins and the members of the commune, wlio be- longed to a lower grade in the social order than the National Convention, but were nevertheless almost enlightened assemblies when compared with the bulk of the populace, were sensible of the inconveniences attending forced contracts. Although more inclined to supjjort the popular clamour than the convention, they offered a steady resistance ; and at the Jacobin Club, Dubois de Crancc, the two Robespierres, Thu- riot, and other IMountaincers, were daily heard in- veighing against the proposal of a maximum. Chau- mette and Hebert pursued the same course at the commune ; but tlie galleries murmured impatiently, and often retorted upon them with groans and howls. Deputations from the sections frequently presented themselves before the commune, to upbraid it with moderation and connivance in tlie jiractices of fore- staUers. It was in these assemblies of sections that were gathered together the lowest classes of agitators, and within them reigned a revolutionary fanaticism far surpassing in blind ignorance and fury that predo- minant at tlie commune and the Jacobin Club. In strict coalition Avith tlie Cordeliers, where all the men of physical action congregated, the sections provoked all tlie troubles of the capital. Their inferiority and obscurity, exposing them more readily to agitation, likewise left them open to instigations of opposite ten- dencies ; and accordingly we find that it was in them the remnants of aristocracy ventm-ed to emerge and attemitt movements of resistance. The old dependants of the nobility, the servants of the emigrants, and all those turbulent idlers who, between tlie two antagonist causes, had preferred the aristocratic, frequented the sections, in which an honest trading class persevered in favour of the Girondists, and cloaked themselves behind that rational and prudent opposition, to combat the JMountaineers and labour in liehaif of tlie foreigner and the ancient sj'stem. hi these contests, the honest middle-men for the most part retired, and the two extreme orders of agitators remained face to face, and contended on this inferior stage witli desperate vio- lence. Almost every day terrific scenes occurred on petitiower of their adversaries and accoin])lish tlu'ir ai ni- hilation. They hail been misuccessfid in their attenq>ts to form a departmental guard ; the bands of federalists, congregated in the metropolis since the meeting of the convention, were partly gained over and partly drauglited into the armies, so tliat their only reliance was somewhat doubtingly placed on 4()U men of Jh'cst, the same whose resolute conduct had stopped the recent jiillage. Failing the departmental guard, they had vainly essajx'd to transfer the direction of the public force from the commune to the minister of the H 246 HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. interior. The Mountain, by furioiis clamours, inti- midated the majority, and prevented the adoption of such a measure. Tlie number of members upon wliom the Girondists could count as unintlueneetl by fear, and tirm in critical discussions, scarcely amounted to eighty. In tliis precarious state of matters, there remained to the Girondists but one expedient, as im- practicable in execution as all the others — that of dis- solvino; the convention. Upon this point, also, the out- rageous vehemence of the Mountaineers extinguished all hope of obtaining a majorit}'. Amidst these tor- menting uncertainties, proceeding not from weakness but from sheer want of power, they were fain to turn their desponding hopes towards the constitution, flat- tering themselves that the yoke of laws would prove a restraint on passions and put an end to all convulsions. The more speculative minds, in particular, fondly clung to this idea. Condorcet had presented a report in the name of the committee on the constitution, which had excited a general clamour. Condorcet, Petion, and Sieyes, were held up to the public execration at the Jacobin Club. Their republic was deemed to be but an aristocracy ingeniously framed for certain over- bearing and despotic men of talent. Consequently, the iloimtaineers deprecated its further consideration ; and several members of convention, by this time sen- sible that their business was not to constitute, but to defend the revolution, spoke out boldly, and said, that it was necessary to postpone the constitution imtil the following year, and in the interim devote exclusive attention to the cares of governmg and fighting. Thus the long sway of that stormy assembly began to be distinctly intimated ; it had ceased to believe in the brevity of its legislative mission ; and the Giron- dists saw their last hope vanish — the expectation of speedily curl)ing the violence of faction by laws. At the same time, their adversaries were not less embarrassed. Doubtless, they had in their favour exalted passions : Ihey had the Jacobin Club, tlie commime, and the majority of the sections ; but they did not command the ministers, and they dreaded the departments, where the two opinions were struggling in most rancorous contest, in which tlieirs had evi- dently the disadvantage ; furtliermore, they looked with alarm t<3 the efforts of foreign powers ; and al- though the ordinary rules of revolutions assure vic- tory to the most violent, those laws, being to them unknown, could afford no encouragement. Their projects were as vague as tliose of their adversaries. To attack the national representation was au act of desperate audacit}', from which they as yet recoiled in idea. There were assuredly agitators in the sec- tions, who were ready to brave and to x)ropose any mea- sures ; but their schemes were discountenanced by the Jacobin Club, the commune, and the Momitain, for they, who were daily accused of consjiiring and daily justifying themselves, felt that proposals of this nature would compromise them in the eyes of their adversaries and of the departments. Danton, who had taken but a moderate share in the party quarrels, was regardful only of two things — to guarantee himself from all pro- secution on account of his revolutionary acts, and to prevent the revolution from retrograiling and suc- cumbing beneatli the assaults of tlie puljlic enemy. Marat himself, so reckless and atrocious when it con- cerned means, even Marat hesitated ; and Robespierre, notwithstanding his inveteracy against the Girondists, against Brissot, Roland, Guadet, and Vergniaud, dared not tliink of an attack upon the national representa- tion ; he knew not upon what expedient to determine, but sunk into dejection, doubted of the stability of the revolution, and told Garat he feared plots of destruc- tion were laid for all the defenders of the republic* * I subjoin an extract from the Blemoirs of Garat, not less cirrlous than tlie one already quoted, and which contains bj' far the most adequate representation that has been given of Robes- pierre, and of the suspicions which haunted his mind. It is in the form of a conversation :— During the heated controversies between the two parties at Marseilles, Lyons, and Bordeaux, a propo- sition for getting rid of the appellants, and excluding " Scarcely had Robespierre understood that I intended speak- ins; to him concerning the quarrels in the convention, than he said, ' AU those deputies of the Gironde, that Brissot, Louvet, Barbaroux, are counter-revoUitionists, conspirators." Icouldnot avoid laughing, ;uid my merriment very speedily soured his visage. ' You were always that waij. In the Constituent Assem- bly, you were disposed to believe that the aristocrats were attached to the revolution.' ' I was very far from being always tlial way. I might have believed at the most that certain nobles were not aristocrats. I judged so indeed of several, and you yourself think so still of some. I may have likewise been of opinion tliat we would have made some conversions even amongst the aristocrats, if of the two means which were at our disposition, resison and force, we had more frequently employed reason, which was alto- getlier on our side, and less frequently force, which might have been on the side of the tyrants. Trust me, we should forget the dangers we have p.issed through, which have nothing in common with those that now threaten us. War then raged between the friends and the enemies of liberty ; it r.uges at present between the friends and the enemies of the republic. If an opportunity shoiUd offer, I will tell Louvet he errs too egregiously when he deems you a roj'alist ; but to you, I consider myself bound to de- clare that Louvet is no more a royalist than yourself. In your quarrels you resemble the Molinists and the Jansenists, the entire dispute between whom turned on the manner in which divine grace operates within our souls, and who furiously charged each other with disbelieving in God.' ' If they be not royalists, why, pray, did they labour so strenuously to save the life of a king? I'll wager, now, that you also were for pardon, for cle- mency • "NMiy, what signifies the principle which rendered the death of the tj-rant just and necessary ? Your Brissot and your appellants to the people were against it. Would they then have left to tjTanny the me:ins of rearing its head again ?' ' I am not aware whether the intention of the appellants to the people was to spare the life of Capet ; the appeal to the people always appeared to me imprudent and dangerous ; but I can easily conceive how those who voted for it may have believed the life of Capet in captivity might be more useful, in the course of events, than liis death ; I can imagine how they may have thought the appeal to the petjple a signal mode of honouring a republican nation in the eyes of the whole world, by giving it the opportunity of exercising a great act of sovereigntj' generously and magnanimously.' ' You certainly attribute fine motives for measures of which you dis- approve, and to men who are conspiring in all quarters.' ' And : where, then, are they conspiring ? ' ' Every where — in Paris, in all France, in all Europe. At Paris, Gensonn^ conspires in the Fauboiu-g Saint-Antoine, by going from shop to shop persuading the dealers that we patriots wish to pillage their stores ; tlie Gironde has long since formed the design of separating from France to unite with England ; and the leaders of its deputation are themselves the authors of that plan, which they are deter- mined upon executing at all hazards. Gensonn^ makes no secret I of it ; he tells all who are disposed to listen to him, that they :u'e not here as representatives of the nation, but as plenipotentiju'ies I of the Gironde. Brissot conspires in his journal, which is a toe- | sin of civil war; it is well known that he has gone to England, I and also the motives of his going there ; wc are not ignorant of ! his intimate connexion with the minister of foreign aflfairs, with j that Lebnm, who is a native of Liege, and a crciture of the hoiLse of Austria. The best friend of Brissot is Clavifere, and Clavidre has conspired wherever he h-is breathed. Rabaut, a traitor, philosopher and Protestimt as he is, has not been deep enough to conceal from us his correspondence with the courtier and traitor Jlontesquiou ; for the hist six months they have been working in concert to open Savoy and France to the Piedmon- tese. Servan has been named gencr.al of the army of the Pyrenees only to deliver the keys of France to the Spaniards. In fine, look at Dumouriez, who no longer threatens Holland but Paris ; and when that charlatan of a hero came here, where I ti-islied to have him arrested, it w.'js not with the Mountain he dined every day, but with the ministers and the Girondists.' ' Three or four times with me, for example.' ' I am siek of the rei-olulion—l am ill ; never was the country in greiiter danger, and I doubt whether it can extricate itself. And now, are you still disposed to laugh, and to believe that they ai-e honest men— good republicans?' ' No, I am not tempted to Laugh, but I can scarcely retain the tears I ought to shed for my country, when I see its legislators a prey to suspicions so dreadful upon grounds so insignificant. I am convinced that nothing of what you suspect is real ; but I am still more convinced that your suspicions involve a very real and HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 247 them from the convention, originated with the Jaco- bins of Marseilles, in the rage of contention with the partisans of the Girondists. This proposition, being flagrant danger. Almost all those men are your enemies, but not one, except Dumourlez, is the enemy of the republic ; and if you could stifle your hatreds on all sides, the republic would be beyond all peril.' ' Are you not goinj; to asJc me to revive the motion of Bishop Lamourette ? ' ' No ; I have at least so far profited by the lessons you have given me, and tlie three national assemblies have taken the pains to teach me, that the best patriots hate their enemies much more cordially than they love their countrj*. But I have one question to ask you, and I beg you to reflect before answering it. Have you no doubts concerning what you have just told me?' ' None." I quitted him. and fell into a long reverie of astonishment and terror at what I had heard. A few days afterwards, as I was leaving the executive council, I met Salles, who was coming out of the National Convention. Affairs were hourly wearing a more menacing aspect. All who entertained mutual sentiments of esteem could not see each other 'without feeling impelled by a necessity to converse upon the state of the commonwealth. ' Well,' said I to Salles, asl accosted him, ' are there no means of terminating these horrible quarrels ? ' ' Oh I yes, I hope so ; I expect I shall shortly tear away the veil that still covers those detestable miscreants and their frightful conspiracies. But as to you, I know that you always indulge in blind confidence ; I know that your mania is to believe nothing.' ' You are quite mistaken ; I believe as well as others, but upon deductions, not upon bare suspicions — on accredited facts, not on imaginary creations. Why do you suppose me so incredulous ? Is it because, in 1789, I would not believe you, when you assured me that Necker was plundering the treasury, and that people had seen mules loaded with gold and silver bearing his millions to Geneva. This in- credulity, I confess, remains quite incorrigible ; for even at this day I am persuaded Necker left here more millions of his o>vn than he took millions of ours to Geneva.' ' Necker was a knave, but nothing compared to the wretches by whom we are now en- compassed ; and it is of those I wish to speak with you if you will listen to me. I will tell you all, for I know all ; I have fathomed all their plots. The schemes and crimes of t!ie Jloun- tain commenced with the revolution ; Orleans is the chief of this band of brigands, and it was the author of the infernal rom.ance of " liaitfferotis Connexions" who drew out the plan of all the abominations they have committed for the last five years. The traitor Lafayette was their accomplice ; and it was he who, • pretending to crush the conspiracy in the bud, sent Orleans into England to arrange matters with Pitt, the Prince of Wales, and the cabinet of St James's. Mirabeau was likewise implicated ; he received money from the king to conceal his connexion with Orleans, but he received still more from Orleans in expectation of his services. Tiie great point for the Orleans party was to draw the Jacobins into its designs. They dared not attempt it directly ; therefoie to the Cordeliers they first addressed them- ! selves. In the Cordeliers, all was immediately sold to them and ■ placed at their disposal. Observe, now, that the Cordeliers have • always been less numerous than the Jacobins, have always made j less noise ; and this because they are willing enough that every I body should be their instrument, but not so that every body should be in their secrets. The Cordeliers have always been the nursery of conspirators ; there the most formidable of all, Danton, { moulds and incites them to audacity and falsehood, whilst JIarat I fashions them for murder and massacre ; it is there they rehearse the part they are afterwards to enact in the Jacobins ; and the Jacobins, who appear to lead Finance, are themselves led, with- out suspecting it, by the Cordeliers. The Cordeliers, who seem to be ensconced in a hole in I'aris, negotiate with the whole of Kurope, and have envoys in all the courts who have sworn the ruin of our liberty : the fact is certain ; I have proofs of it. Finally, who but the Cordeliers have engulfed a throne in a sea of blood to draw forth a new throne instead ? They are well aware that the right side, which contains all the virtue, likewise counts in its ranks all the true republicans in the convention ; and if they accuse us of royalism, it is because that charge is ne- cessary to pour upon us the fury of the multitude— becaiise, in short, daggers are more easily found against us than argimients. In a single conspiracy, three or four others are involved. When the right side shall be entirely extirpated, the Duku of York will arrive to occupy the throne, and Orleans, who has promised it to him, will assassinate him ; Orleans, in his turn, will be .as»;isKi- nated by Marat, Danton, and Hobes])irrre, who have made him t)»e like promise, and the triumvirs will divide France, covered with ashes and blood, until the ablest of them, and that will be laid before the Jacobins of Pai'is, was discussed in tlieir club. Desfieux argued, that the demand in ques- tion was advanced by a sufficient number of affiliated Danton, assassinates the two others and reigns aione, at first under the title of dictator, afterwards, without disguise, under that of king. Such is their plan, you may be assured. By dint of constant reflection I have discovered it ; everj' thing proves and renders it evident. See how circumstances hang and hold toge- ther ; there is not a fact in the revolution which is not a part and a proof of these horrible plots. You are astonished, I see ; will you still be incredulous ? ' 'I am indeed astonished ; but tell me, are there many amongst you, that is, on your side, who think like you on all these things?' ' All, or almost all. Condorcet made a few objections once ; Si6yes holds little intercourse with us ; Rabaut has another plan, which sometimes tallies, sometimes clashes with mine ; but all the others entertain no moie doubts than I myself upon what I have just related to you : all feel the necessity of acting promptly, of pulling the irons to the fire without ddat/, to prevent the occurrence of so many crimes and misfor- tunes, and to avoid losing the fruit of a revolution which has cost us so dearly. In the right side are numbers who have not suffi- cient confidence in you; but I, who have been your colleague, who know you to be an honest man , and a staunch friend to liberty — I assure them that you will be for us, that you will aid us with all the means your office puts in your power. Can the slightest doubt still linger in your mind as to the truth of what I have told you respecting those wretches ? ' '1 should be too unworthy of the esteem you express for me, were I to leave you imder the persuasion that I believe in the fact of the plan you judge that of your enemies. The moi'e you adduce men and things, the more probable it seems to you and the less so to me. The greater part of the facts wherewith you weave the web of your plot have had a definite object, which it needed no ingenuity to carve for them, since it spoke for itself ; but you assign them an object which is very far from naturally presenting itself, and which must there- fore be laboriously attributed to them. Now, in the first place, you will allow it requires proofs to justify the casting aside a simple and natural explanation ; and, in the next, additional proofs to induce the adoption of an explanation which does not occur to the mind thus simply and naturally. For example, all the world believes that Lafayette and Orleans were enemies, and that it was to deliver the National Assembly, Paris, and France, from a multitude of anxieties, that Orleans was persuaded or compelled by Lafayette to withdraw for a time from France ; therefore, it must be established, not by assertion but by proof— 1st, that they were not enemies ; 2d, that they were accomplices ; 3d, that the object of Orleans's journey to England was the execu- tion of their schemes. I am aware that by so rigorous a mode ol reasoning, a risk is incurred of affording play to crimes and disasters by relaxing foresight to meet and suppress them ; but I am also aware that by yielding blindly to the im.aginatlon, sys- tems are conjured up on events past and on events to come ; the faculty of justly discerning and appreciating contemporary events is lost ; and whilst dreaming of thousands of delinquencies which never entered the head of mortal, an utter incapacity en- sues to perceive those which .actually imjiond and menace; whilst, moreover, enemies, who are not over-scrupulous, are driven to the temptation of committing crimes they never woiild have otherwise thought of. I do not do\ibt that there are annuid us a multitude of miscreants ; the unbridled state of pjissions arouses them abundantly, and the gold of the stranger supports them. But, be assured, if their projects be desperate, they are neitlier so vast nor so complicated, nor formed and directed so remotely. In all you state there is much more to bespeak robbers and as- sassins than profoimd conspirators. The veritable conspirators against the republic are the sovereigns of I'urope and the piLssions of the rei)ublicans. To repel the kings of Europe and their regi- ments, our armies are sullicient and to boot ; to prevent our be- ing devoured by our own passions, there is a mode, but it is imiquc— hasten to organise a government which shall have strength, and will merit confidence. In the state to which our quarrels reduce the governnu'nt, a democracy of even twenty-five millions of angels woidd speedily become a prey to all the dissen- sions of ambitious pride ; as Jean-Jac(iues says, twenty-five millions of gods would be needed, and into no inuigination hiis so Inige a conception entered. .'My dear Salles, men and large assem- blies are not so constituted as tliat on one side shall be fovmd only gods, and on the other only devils. Every where are men in a conflict of interests and opinions, wherein even the best have evil p.issions, and even the worst, if we studiously and dispassionately seek to learn their inward thoughts, are susceptible of upright and virtuous impressions. 1 find in the recesses of my own mind a clear and unanswerable voucher for the half at least of thl