H
^1
Pi
['IiE
HISTORY
or
THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.
BY M. A. THIERS,
LATE PRIME MINISTER OF FRANCE.
TRANSLATED,
WITH NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS
FROM THE
MOST AUTHENTIC SOURCES,
BY
FREDERICK SHOBERL.
SECOND AMERICAN EDITION.
COMPLETE IN FOUR VOLUMES,
WITH ENGRAVINGS.
VOL. L
PHILADELPHIA:
^CAREY AND HART.
STEBEOTYFED BY L. JOHNSON.
1842.
4 9 9 1; 9
' " ,
C. SHEIOIAN AMI) CO.. rUINTKUS,
19, ST. .JAAIKS STKKKT, PHILADELPHIA.
'DC
-4? ^
CHRONOLOGY \^^2j
OF THE \ / ',
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
1789.
May 5, Opening of the States-general at Versailles — The tiers-etat, 661 deputies; nobles,
285 ; clergy, 308 ; total, 1254.
6. Division between the dilTerent orders respecting the mode of verifying their powers.
10. The electors of Paris declare themselves in permanent session.
23. Notwithstanding the remonstrances of the tiers-etat, the different orders meet sepa-
rately. The clergy and nobility communicate to the tiers-etat the renunciation of their
privileges, and submit to pay their proportion of the public burdens.
June 17. The deputies of the tiers-etat, already joined by some of the clergy, declare their
assembly to be the only legal one, and constitute themselves as The National Assembly.
The Assembly declares all the taxes illegally imposed, but it authorizes the levy of them
provisionally, ow/y till the day of its first separation, from whatever cause that separa-
tion may proceed.
20. The Oath of the Tennis Court.
23. Royal Session of the States-general.
27. The union of the several Orders in the National Assembly.
30. The Parisians set at liberty the French guards imprisoned in the Abbayc.
July 2 — 9. A great number of troops collected around Paris.
11. Change of the ministry — Dismissal of Necker.
12. Riots in Paris. The Prince de Lambesc, at the head of the German dragoons, charges
the populace in the Tuileries. Camille-Desmoulins, in the garden of the Palais-Royal,
recommends an appeal to arms. The green cockade is assumed. Conflict between the
French Guards and a detachment of the Royal German regiment.
13. First organization of the militia of Paris. The barriers attacked and burnt.
14. Storming of the Bastille. Massacre of the governor De Launay and Flesselles./Jrcro^
des marchands. The red and blue cockade (the city colours) substituted for the green
cockade.
15. The King and his brothers repair to the National Assembly. The troops collected
round Paris dismissed. Approval of the institutions of the riational guard. The electors
nominate Bailly, mayor of Paris; and Lafayette, general-in-chicf of the national guard.
16. Recall of Necker — Count d'Artois and the Prince de Conde emigrate.
17. The King proceeds to the Hotel de Ville of Paris. Bailly thus addresses him: " Sire,
I bring you the keys of the city of Paris ; they are the same which were presented to
Henry IV. He had reconquered his people ; the people have reconquered their King."
The assembled multitude applauded this address : the King assumed the red and blue
cockade. His presence quiets the tumult.
22. Fresh disturbances on account of the dearness of corn. Massacre of Foulon and of
Berthier de Sauvigny.
26. The tricoloured cockade adopted. On presenting it to the electors, Lafayette predicts
that it will make the tour of the world.
Aug. 1. The cannon of Chantilly, and of the lie- Adam, taken possession of and brought to
Paris.
4. The National Assembly decrees that the constitution shall be preceded by the declara-
tion of the rigms of man and of the citizen. Spontaneous abolition of the feudal system,
and of all privileges in France.
18. Democratic insurrection at Liege.
iii
iv CHRONOLOGY OF THE
Aug. 23. Decree proclaiming liberty of opinions, religious as well as political.
31. Suppression anil ilissolution of the French guards.
Sept. 9. The Nalii)nai Assembly iledares itself to be permanently assembled.
10. It adopts as a principle that the legislative body shall consist of only one chamber.
Oct. 1. Declaration of the Rights of Man in society.
2. Entertainment given by the Life-guanls, at Versailles.
5, 6. The populace at Versailles, 'i'he King and all his family are brought to Paris.
14. The Duke of Orleans quits Paris for a time and goes to England.
19. The first silting of the National Assembly at the archbishop's palace.
21. Decree conferring upon the tribunal of the Chi'itelet the cognizance of the crime of
high treason against the nation. Martial law introduced.
Nov. 2. Ecclesiastical property declared national property. The Abbe Maury, being threat-
ened with death a la lanlerrie, escapes, by saying to those who have come to attack him,
" Well, and shall you see any the clearer for that, do you think V
G. Institution of the society of " The Friends of the Constitution," which subsequently
became " The Society of the Jacobins." The National Assembly transfers its place of
meeting to the Riding-house of the Tuileries.
Dec. 19. Creation of territorial assignats.
24. Decree declaring Frenchmen who are not Catholics admissible to all offices, both civil
and military.
1790.
Jan. 15. Division of France into eighty-three departments.
21. Equality of punishments enacted, whatever the rank of the culprits.
26. The Assembly forbids its members to accept any office under government.
Feb. 13. Abolition of monastic vows. Suppression of the religious orders.
19. Execution of the Marquis de Favras, declared guilty of high treason.
20. Lafayette proclaims in the National Assembly, that, when oppression renders a revo-
lution necessary, insurrection is the most sacred of duties.
March 1 G. Abolition of " Lettres de Cachet."
17, Api)ropriation of ecclesiastical property to the repayment of the assignats.
28. Suppression of the salt-tax.
April 1. Publication of the " Red Book." The secret expenses of the court had annually been
at the lowest, in 1787,82,000,000 livres ; at the highest, in 1783, 145,000,000 livTes.
29. Free trade in corn.
30. Institution of the jury.
May 10. Massacre of the patriots at Montauban.
12. Uistitution, by Lafayette and Bailly, of the Society of 1789, (afterwards the club of
the Feuiliaiis,) to counterbalance the influence of the Jacobin club.
22. The Assembly decrees that the right of declaring war and making peace belongs to the
nation.
June 3. Insurrection of the blacks at Martinique.
9, 10. The civil list fixed at 25,000,000 livres.
19. Abolition of nobility.
July 10. Decree restoring to the heirs of Dissenters expelled by the edict of Nantes their
conllscafed property not yet sold.
14. First National Federation.
Aug. 6. Abolition of the droits d^auhaine (seizing the property of Aliens).
16. Justices of the peace instituted.
31. Revolt of the Swiss soldiers at (Chateau- Vieux.
Sept. 4. Dismissal and Retreat of Necker.
6. Suppression of the y)arliamcnts.
10. Funding of the public debt.
29. Creation of 800,000,000 of forced assignats.
Oct. 9. Insurrection of the mulattoes in St. Domingo.
Nov. 4. Insurrection in the Isle ot France.
27. Civil constitution of the clercy. Institution of the Tribunal of Cassation.
Dec. 30. Institution of the patents for inventions.
1791.
Jan. 28. The French army is increased to the war establishment.
Feb. 12. Abohtion of the monopoly for the cultivation of tobacco.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. V
Feb. 19. Monsieur (afterwards Louis XVIII.) gratifies the populace who surround his palace,
by assuring them that he will never emigrate.
28. The leaders of the populace proceed to Vincennes and attempt to massacre the prison-
ers. The day of the Daggers. The nobles with concealed arms assemble at the Tuile-
ries. The King, in order to prevent a conflict between them and the national guards,
commands them to lay down their arms. They obey ; and arc afterwards insulted and
ill-used.
April 2, 4. Death and funeral of Mirabeau.
23. I<ouis apprizes the foreign courts that he has taken the oath to observe the future con-
stitution.
May 4. Annexation of Avignon and of the Comtat Venaissin to France.
15. Admission of the free people of colour to an equality of political rights with the whites.
June 2. Louis XVI., being intimidated, gives his consent to many decrees from which he
had previously withheld it.
•5. The decree passed, wresting from the King the privilege of pardonmg criminals.
10. Louis XVI. secretly protests against the sanctions which he has given to decrees, and
also against those which he may hereafter give.
19. Robespierre is elected public accuser for the tribunal of the Seine.
21 — 2.5. Flight to and return from Varennes. The emigration of Monsieur.
26. The Life-guards disbanded.
July 6. Appeal of the Emperor Leopold to the sovereigns of Europe to unite for the deliver-
ance of Louis XV'^I.
7. Louis XVI. disavows the armaments equipping by the emigrants.
11. Petition for the King's dethronement. The remains of Voltaire transferred to the
Pantheon.
17. The unfurling of the red flag.
21. Institution for the deaf and dumb established.
25. Treaty of Berlin against France between Prussia and Austria.
30. Suppression of decorations and orders of knighthood.
Aug. 17. Decree enjoining emigrants to return to France.
27. Treaty of Pilnitz intended to consolidate the coalition.
Sept. 3 — 13. Completion and presentation of the constitution to the King.
14. Louis XVI. accepts the constitution and swears to maintain it.
29. Decree relati /e to the national guard.
30. Last sitting of tlie Constituent Assembly. This Assembly during the three years of
its existence, enacted 1309 laws and decrees relative to legislation or to the general
administration of the state.
Oct. 1. First sitting of the Legislative Assembly.
5. Commencement of the famine. The farmers refuse to take assignats in payment for
corn. Decree taking from the King the titles of Sire and Your Majesty.
14. The King issues a proclamation to the emigrants exhorting them to rally round the
constitution.
16. He writes to his brothers to induce them to return to France. All the men of talent
in Europe are invited by the Assembly to communicate their opinions on the civil code.
The minister of war announces that 1900 oflicers have left their regiments and emi-
grated.
28. Decree requiring Monsieur to return to France within two months, upon the penalty
of being deprived of his right to the regency.
30. Massacres at Avignon. The slaughtered prisoners are thrown into an ice-pit.
Nov. 12. The King refuses to sanction the decree against the emigrants.
17. Petion is elected mayor of Paris.
22. Port-au-Prince (St. Domingo) burnt.
26. ('habot enters the King's presence with his hat on.
29. The Assembly requires the King to call upon the princes of the empire not to allow
the assembling of emigrants in their territories.
Dec. 2. Manuel elected procureur-syndic of the commune.
14. The King announces to the Assembly that he will declare war, if the foreign courts
disregard his declarations in favour of the Revolution.
19. The King puts his veto to the decrees relative to priests who refuse to take the civic
oath. ^
20. Notification,' in the name of the King, to the Elector of Treves to disperse the emi-
grants collected in his states.
31. The Assembly suppresses the ceremony usual on New Year's Day.
a2
VI CHRONOLOGY OF THE
1792.
Jan. 1. The King's brothers, as emigrants, are decreed under accusation.
23, 24. First pillage of the grocers of Paris.
Feb. 7. Treaty between Austria and Prussia to quell the disturbances in France.
9. The property of emigrants sequestrated.
March 1. Death of Leopold IL His son Francis succeeds him.
2. Institution of the King's constitutional guard.
3. Murder of the mayor of Etampes in the execution of his duty.
19. Amnesty granted to the assassins of Avignon.
28. Decree admitting men of colour and free negroes to the exercise of political rights.
29. Assassination of Gustavus IIL, King of Sweden.
30. Appropriation of the property of emigrants to defray the expenses of the war.
April 6. Suppression of religious communities. Prohibition of ecclesiastical costumes.
20. Declaration of war against Austria.
28. First hostilities and reverses in Belgium. General Theobald Dillon murdered by his
soldiers.
May 3. Decrees of accusation passed against Boyou, author of VAmi du Roi and Marat,
author of VAmi da Peuple.
29. The King's paid guard disbanded. The National Assembly constitutes itself in per-
manent session.
June 8. Decree ordaining the formation of a camp of 20,000 men near Paris. Opposed by
the King.
12. 13. Dismissal of the ministers, Servan, Roland, and Clavieres.
20. The populace at the Tuileries.
26. First continental coalition against France.
28. Lafeyette appears at the bar to demand, in the name of his army, the punishment of
the authors of the outrage of the 20th.
July 7. Francis 11. elected Emperor of Germany.
6. All the ministers of Louis XVI. resign.
11. Decree declaring the country in danger.
14. Third Federation.
30. Arrival of the Marseillais in Paris,
Aug. 10. The Tuileries attacked and stormed.
11. Suspension of the King — Formation of an executive council.
13. Imprisonment of the King and the royal family in the Temple.
13 — 21. The foreign ambassadors leave Paris.
14. Decree directing the sale of the property of the emigrants.
18. Flight of Lafayette, after attempting in vain to induce his army to rise in favour of
Louis XVI. and the constitution.
29, 29. Law ordaining domiciliary visits.
Sept. 2. Confiscation of the properly of the emigrants.
2 — 6. Massacres in the prisons of Paris.
9. Massacre of the prisoners from Orleans at Versailles.
1 6. The Garde-Meuble robbed of the jewels and precious stones belonging to the crown.
20. Battle of Valmy.
21. Closing of the Legislative Assembly, after passing, between the 1st of October, 1791,
and the present day, 2140 decrees relative to administration or legislation — Opening of
the National Convention — Abolition of royalty — Proclamation of the republic.
22. Commencement of the republican era — Decree ordaining the renewal of all the adminis-
trative, municipal, and judicial bodies, as suspected of being gangrened with royalism.
23. Entry of the French into Chambery — Conquest of Savoy.
28. Nice taken.
29. Louis XVI. separated from his family and removed to the great tower of the Temple.
Oct. 8. The siege of i^illc raised, after an heroic defence by its inhabitants.
9. Law ordaining the immediate death of ever}' emigrant taken in arms.
10. The titles oi citoyen and cifoyenne adopted instead of monsieur and madame.
15. Suppression of the order of St. Louis.
22. Entire evacuation of the French territory by the allies.
23. Law banishing the emigrants in mass and for ever, and decreeing the penalty of death
against all, without distinction of age or sex, who shall return to France.
Nov. 6. Victory of Jemajipcs.
7. Decree for putting Louis XV^I. upon his trial.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. Vll
Nov. 1 9. The Convention, by a decree, promises aid and succour to all those nations which
may desire to overthrow their governments.
20. Discovery of the iron chest.
Dec. 4. Decree pronouncing the penalty of death against all who shall propose or attempt to
restore royalty in France.
11. First examination of Louis XVI.
16. Decree banishing the Bourbons, with the exception of the prisoners in the Temple and
Philip Egalite (the Duke of Orleans,) respecting whom the Convention reserves to itself
the right of deciding hereafter — Philip Egalite continues to sit in the Convention.
2.5. Louis XVI. writes his will.
26. Defence of Louis XVI. delivered by Deseze.
27. Commencement of the debates in the National Convention.
31. England refuses to recognise the minister of the French republic.
1793.
Jan. 13. Basseville murdered at Rome.
14. End of the debates in the Convention relative to Louis XVI.
15 — 20. Votes and scrutinies for the sentence on Louis XVI., the appeal to the people,
the reprieve, &c.
20. Notification to Louis XVI. of the sentence of death pronounced upon him — Last inter-
view of the King with his family — Murder of Lepelletier St. Fargeau.
21. Execution of Louis XVI.
24. The Convention, in a body, attends the funeral of Lepelletier, to whose remains are
awarded the honours of the Pantheon.
28. Louis Xavier (Monsieur) assumes the title of Regent of France, and proclaims Louis
XVII. King.
31. Incorporation of the county of Nice with France.
Feb. 1. The Convention declares war against England and Holland.
24. Decree ordaining the levy of 300,000 men.
2.5, 26. Plunder of the grocers' shops in Paris.
March 5. The colonies declared in a state of siege.
7. The Convention declares war against Spain.
9. Commissioners nf the Conventi )n sent with unlimited powers into the departments —
Abolition of imprisonment for debt — First coalition against France formed by England,
Austria, Prussia, Holland, Spain, Portugal, the Two Sicilies, the Roman States, Sardinia,
and Piedmont.
10, 11. Institution of the revolutionary tribunal.
12. Committees oi surveillance established in Paris.
1 1 — 15. Insurrection in La Vendee — Cholet taken by the insurgents.
18. Battle of Neerwinden.
21. Decree ordaining the punishment of death against all who shall propose an agrarian law.
25. Institution of the committee of general safety.
25. The emigrants banished for ever — Confiscation of their property.
April. 1. Defection of Duinouriez.
6. The committee of public welfare instituted by a law.
Apprehension of the Duke of Orleans (Egalite), and imprisonment at Marseilles of all
the members of the family of the Bourbons not confined in the Temple — Kepresentativeg
of the people sent to the republican armies.
13. Marat decreed under accusation by the Convention.
14. The Spaniards overrun Roussillon.
24. Marat acquitted and carried in triumph to the hall of the Convention.
May 4. A. maximuTu fixed for the price of corn and flour.
10. First meeting of the Convention at the Tuileries.
18. The Girondins obtain the institution of the commission of the twelve to watch the
motions of agitators.
20. Forced loan of 1000 millions imposed upon the rich.
26. Insurrection in Corsica.
29. Insurrection in Lyons against the Jacobins.
June'l 2 c ^"V'^lution of May 31. Downfall of the Girondins.
5. Federalist insurrection at Marseilles and Caen.
8. Blockade of the ports of France by England.
Vlll CHRONOLOGY OF THE
June 9. Protest of 73 deputies against the acts of the Convention on the 31st of May, and the
2d of June.
10. Sauniur taken by the Vendeans — A decree that absolute necessaries shall not be taxed.
21 — 24. Insurrection in St. Domingo — The Cape burned.
23. Martial law repealed.
29. The constitution submitted to the primary assemblies.
23, 29. Nantes attacked by the Vendeans.
July 3. Decree commanding the siege of Lyons.
4. Foundlings named the children of the country.
13. Marat assassinated by Charlotte Corday.
24. Capitulation of Mayence.
26. Establishment of telegraphs.
27. Robespierre nominated a member of the committee of public welfare.
28. Capitulation of Valenciennes.
Aug. 1. Marie Antoinette removed to the Conciergerie.
7. Decree declaring Pitt an enemy of mankind.
8. Suppression of all academies and literary societies.
10. The constitution of 1793 accepted by the deputies of 44,000 communes of republic.
15. Institution of the great book of the public debt.
22. Adoption of the first eight heads of the civil code.
23. Law ordaining the levy en. masse.
Sep. 5. Decree enacting that a revolutionary army shall travel over the departments with
artillery and a guillotine.
7, 8. Victory gained over the English at Hondschoote.
1 1. Establishment of the maximum for corn and flour.
15. Investment and siege of Toulon.
1 7. Law of the suspected.
Oct. 10. Lyons taken by the army of the Convention — The government declared revolution-
ary till a peace.
15, 16. Victory of Waltignies — The blockade of Maubeuge raised.
16. Marie Antoinette condemned and executed.
17 — 19. Defeat of the Vendeans at Cholet — Passage of the Loire.
31. The Girondins executed.
Nov. 6. The Duke of Orleans (Philip Egalite) executed,
10. The Catholic worship superseded by that of Reason — Revolutionary massacres at Lyons.
11. Bailly executed.
16. Lotteries suppressed.
Dec. 4. Organization of the Revolutionary government.
12. 13. The Vendeans defeated at Mans.
20. Toulon retaken.
22. The Vendeans defeated at Savenay.
26, 27. The lines of Weissenburg retaken — The blockade of Landau raised.
1794.
Jan. 1. Decree enacting that every condemned general shall be executed at the head of bis army.
4. Noirmoutiers taken — D'Elbee executed.
16. Marseilles declared rebellious and to have lost its name.
21. Decree enacting that the anniversary of the execution of Louis XVI. shall be celebrated
as a national festival — Drownings (noyades) at Nantes.
Feb. 4. Decree abolishing slavery in the colonies. The negroes declared French citizens —
Decree enacting that sentences upon ecclesiastics shall be executed without appeal.
15. The Convention determines that the national flag shall be composed of three vertical
stripes of equal breadth — red, white, and blue.
22. A maxinnim fixed for articles of ordinary consumption.
24. Decree qualifying denouncers to be heard as witnesses.
March 5. Danton, Camille-Desmoulins, &c., executed.
22. Decree proclaiming justice and integrity the order of the day.
April 1. The executive counsel suppressed and succeeded by twelve commissions composed
of members of the Convention, and subordinate to the committee of public welfare.
4. Decree enacting that accused persons brought before the revolutionary tribunal who
resist the national justice, shall not be allowed to plead, and sentenced forthwith.
5. Decree that every member of the Convention shall give an account of his conduct,
moral and political, and of his circumstances.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. IX
April 14. Decree that the remains of J. J. Rousseau shall be removed to the Pantheon.
16. Decree that all those who live without doing anything, and complain of the Revolution,
shall be transported to Guiana.
May 7. The Convention acknowledges the existence of the Supreme Being.
10. Madame Elizabeth, sister of Louis XVL, executed.
May 18. Victory of Turcoing.
22. Execution of young females at Verdun.
26. Decree that no quarter be given to the English and Hanoverians — Collioure, St. Elrae,
and Port-Vendres retaken.
June 1. Establishment of the School of Mars in the plain of Sablons — Sea-fight of the 13th
of Prairial — Heroism of the crew of the Vengeur.
8. Festival of the Supreme Being.
10. Decree that any moral document may be used as evidence against a person accused
before the revolutionary tribunal ; and that there shall be in future no official defenders.
2.3. Battle of Croix-des-Bouquets.
2,5. Charleroi taken.
26. Decree that corn and forage of this year's growth be put in requisition — Victory of
Fleurus.
27. Institution of a police legion for the city of Paris.
July 4. Decree that the foreign garrisons in French fortresses, which refuse to sunender
within twenty-four hours after the first summons, shall be put to the sword.
6. Landrecies retaken.
26. (8th of Thermidor.) Robespierre at the Jacobin club.
27,28. (9ih and lOlh of Thermidor.) Downfall of Robespierre.
29. Execution of eighty-three members of the general council of the commune outlawed
on the 27th.
Aug. I. Fouquier-Tinville apprehended.
12. A new revolutionary tribunal installed.
16. Quesnoy retaken.
23. All persons of seventy in confinement set at liberty.
24. Decree limiting the powers of the committee of public welfare.
27 — 30. Valenciennes and Gondii retaken.
31. Explosion of the powder-magazine at Crenelle, by which fifteen hundred persons lose
their lives — Decree for checking the progress of Vandalism — The monuments of the arts
and sciences y)laced under the care of the authorities.
Sept. 1. Barrere, Billaud- Varcnnes, and Gollot-d'Herbois, turned out of the committee of public
welfare — That committee had been prorogued and re-elected fourteen times successively.
10. Attempt to assassinate Tallicn.
24. Destruction of the English settlements at Sierra-Leone.
Oct. 2. Victory of Aldcnhoven.
7. Ijyons resumes its name.
10. Institution of the Conservatory of Arts and Trades.
12. The Convention forbids all political correspondence between popular societies in their
collective name.
20. The Normal School instituted.
23. The School of Mars suppressed.
Nov. 1. Great dearth. The inhabitants of Paris receive but two ounces of bread per day.
The busts of Marat ami Lepelletier destroyed. — The body of Marat dragged from the
Pantheon and thrown into a sewer.
9. The .facobins attacked by the Gilded Youth.
12. Decree suspending the meetings and closing the hall of the Jacobin club.
17 — 20. Battle of Montague Noire, in which the two commanders-in-chief, Dugommier
and La Union are slain.
Dec. 2. Amnesty oilered to the Vendeans and Chouans, who shall lay down their arms withia
a month.
8. The deputies proscribed on the 31st of May, 1793, readmitted into the Convention.
9. Decree that in future the secrecy of letters shall not be violated in the interior.
16, 17. Carrier condemned and executed.
24. The laws of the maximum repealed.
30. The decree <«nacting that no quarter shall be given to the English and Hanoverians
repealed. ^
VOL. I.— (2)
X CHRONOLOGY OF THE
1795.
Jan. 19. Declaration of Russia that "there is no longer either a kingdom or republic of Po-
land" — The French enter Amsterdam — Conquest of Holland.
20. A Dutch fleet taken by French Cavalry.
Feb. 2. Repeal of the penal laws issued against Lyons,
6. Holland abolishes the stadlholdership, and constitutes itself a republic.
9. Treaty of peace between France and Tuscany.
15. First pacification of La Vendee, called the pacification of La Jaunaie.
Mar. 2. The late members of the committee of public welfare placed under accusation.
8. The outlawed deputies readmitted into tlie Convention.
1.5. Decree that each itihabitant of Paris shall be allowed but one pound of bread per day:
labouring people only to have a pound and a half.
21. Instituiion of the Central School of Public Works (afterwards the Polytechnic School)
— Law against seditious assemblies.
April 1. Transportation of the late members of the committee of public welfare (12th Germinal.)
.0. Treaty of peace between the French Republic and the King of Prussia.
7. Establishment of the uniformity of weights, measures, and coins, upon the decimal
system.
24. Massacres in the prisons of Lyons.
May 7. Execution of Fouquier-Tinville and fifteen jurors of the revolutionary tribunal
16. Alliance between the French and the Batavian republics.
17 — 19. Jacobin insurrection at Toulon.
20. Disturbances of the 1st of Prairial.
22. Insurrection of the fauxbourg St. Antoine,
24. Disarming of the fauxbourg St. Antoine and the sections of Paris.
30. 'J'he public exercise of the Catholic religion authorized.
31. The extraordinary revolutionary criminal tribunal suppressed.
June I — 5. Insurrection at Toulon quelled.
3. Funeral honours paid to Feraud, the deputy, murdered on the 1st of Prairial.
8. Death of the Dauphin, son of Louis XV'l.
17. Death of Romme, Goujon, Soubrani, &c.
24. Charette again takes up arms in La Vendee.
27. Instituiion of a police legion for the safeguard of Paris.
July 21. The emigrants lay down their arms at Quiberon.
23. Treaty of peace between France and Spain signed at Basle.
Aug. 3. Institution of the Conservatory of Music.
22. The new constitution, called the constitution of the year III, adopted.
23. Decree definitely dissolving the popular societies,
30. Decree enacting that two-thirds of the members of the new legislative assemblies shall
be, for the first time only, exclusively chosen from the National Convention.
Sept. 23. Proclamation of the acceptance of the constitution of the year III by the people.
Oct, 1. Belgium and all the conquered countries on the left bank of the Rhine incorporated
with the Republic.
2. Landing of Count d'Artois in Ile-Dieu.
5. Insurrection of the 13th Vendemiaire. ^'
25. Formation of the Institute decreed.
26. End of the National Convention, after passing 8370 decrees,
28. First meeting of the Council of the Ancients and the Council of the Five Hundred.
Nov. 1. Formation of the Directory— Lareveillere-Lepaux, Le Tourneur, Rewbel, Barras,
and Carnot, chosen directors.
4. The Directory establishes itself at the Luxembourg,
17. Evacuation of the Ile-Dieu.
23 — 27, Battle and victory of Loano,
Dec. 2G. The daughter of Louis XVI. exchanged for, 1, the representatives and General
Beurnonville, delivered up to the Austrians by Dumcuriez ; 2, Maret and Semonville,
diplomatic envoys, seized by the Austrians in 1793: 3, Drouet, the ex-conventionalist,
made prisoner in 1792.
1796.
Jan. 1. Institution of the ministry of the police,
Feb. 2. The twelve municipalities of Paris installed.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. XI
Feb. 24. Stofflet, again in arms at La Vendee, taken and shot
Mar. 29. Charette shot at Nantes.
Apnl 2 — 9. Insurrection in Berry, which is quelled immediately.
11, 12. Battle of Montenotte.
13, 14. Battle of Millcsimo.
22. Battle of Mondovi.
May 10. Battle of the bridge of Lotli.
15. Treaty of peace between the French Republic and the King of Sardinia — The French
enter Milan.
June 4. Battle of Altenkirchen gained by Jourdan.
21. Armistice granted to the Pope, by Bonaparte.
23. Morea crosses the Rhine at Kehl.
29. The castle of Milan taken.
July 9. Battle of Ettlingen gained by Moreau.
Aug. 5. Victory of Castiglione.
15. Definitive pacification of La Vendee.
18. Offensive and defensive alliance between France and Spain.
Sept. 5. The French enter Trent
8. Battle of Bassano.
15. Battle of St George — Wurmser blockaded in Mantua.
Oct 2. Battle of Biberach, gained by Moreau.
8. Spain declares war against England.
10. Treaty of peace between the Republic and the King of the Two Sicilies.
22. Corsica retaken from the Enghsh.
Nov. 15 — 17. Victory of Arcole.
Dec. 20. Rupture of the conferences opened at Paris with Lord Malmesbury.
24 — 27. Expedition to Ireland ; productive of no result
1797.
Jan. 9. Capitulation of Kehl, after the trenphes had been opened forty-eight hours.
14, 15. Battle of Rivoli.
16. Battle of La Favorita — Capitulation of Provera,
Feb. 2. Mantua taken.
5. Surrender of the tete de ponte of Huninguen.
19. Treaty of peace of Tolentino, between the French Republic and the Pope.
Mar. 16. Passage of the Tagliamento.
April 15. Preliminaries of peace between France and Austria, signed at Leoben.
18. Battle of Neuwied gained by Hoche.
20. 21. Passage of the Rhine at Diersheim, by Moreau.
May 16. The French enter Venice — Overthrow of the old Venetian government.
31. Revolution at Genoa — Creation of the Ligurian republic.
June 28. Occupation of Corfu.
July 9. Establishment of the Cisalpine Republic.
Aug. 24. Repeal of all the laws relative to the exile or confinement of priests refusing to take
the oath.
Sept. 4. Violent proceedings of the 18th of Fructidor.
17. Rupture of the conferences at Lille opened for peace with England.
1 9. Death of General Hoche.
30. Law for dividing the public debt into three thirds, of which one only is consolidated.
Oct. 17. Treaty of peace signed at Campo Formio, between France and Austria.
Dec. 9. Opening of the congress of Rastadt.
10. Solemn reception of General Bonaparte by the Directory.
28. Riot at Rome — Murder of General Duphot — The French legation leaves the Papal
territories.
1798.
Jan. 1. Law concerning the constitutional organization of the Colonies.
5. Forced loan of eighty millions to defray the expenses of the preparations for an invasion
of England. ^
27. Invasion of Switzerland.
Feb. 10. The French enter Rome.
15, Abolition of the Papal government — The Roman republic proclaimed.
XU CHRONOLOGY OF THE
Mar. 1. The Rhine acknowledged by the congress of RastaJt as the boundary of the French
Republic.
5. Hernc taken.
April 17. Organization of the national gendarmerie.
19. Landing of the English near Ostend : all killed or taken.
26. Inrorporation of Geneva with France.
May 1. Holland reconstitutes itself by the name of the Batavian republic.
9. 'J'he English evacuate St. Domingo.
19. Sailing of the expedition for Egypt.
June 10—13. Taking of Malta.
July 1 — 3. Landing in Egypt.
21. Battle of the Pyramids.
27. Suspension of commercial relations between France and America.
Aug. 1, 2. Sea-fight at Aboukir.
21. Creation of the Institute of Egypt.
22. Landing in Ireland of 1 150 French, under the command of Humbert.
Sept. .5. Establishment of the conscription.
8. Humbert, attacked by 2.'j,000 English, is forced to surrender.
12. The Porte declares war against France.
Oct. 8. Battle of Sedyman.
22 — 24. Insurrection at Cairo.
Nov. 24. Imposition of a tax on doors and windows.
Dec. 5. Battle of Civita Castellana — Defeat of 40,000 Neapolitans under General Mack, by
6000 French, under Macdonald.
6. Declaration of war against the Kings of Naples and Sardinia.
9. Ratification of the treaty of peace between the French and Helvetic republics.
8 — 10. Occupation of Turin by General Joubert — The King of Sardinia cedes Piedmont
to France.
14. Reoccupation of Rome by Championnet.
15. Treaty of alliance between England and Russia against France.
1799.
Jan. 23. Naples taken by Championnet.
March 1 — 4. Hostile movements of the French and Austrian armies on the Rhine.
7. Coire taken — Conquest of the country of the Grisons by the French.
10. Expedition to Syria — Jaffa taken.
25. Defeat of the French at Stockach.
27. Seizure of Pope Pius VI., who is carried to France.
16. Victory of Mount Tabor.
April 27. Defeat of the French at Cassano.
28. Murder of the French plenipotentiaries at Rastadt.
May 21. The army of the East raises the siege of Acre.
24. Tlie citadel of Milan taken by Suwarrow.
June 8. Zurich taken by the archduke Charles.
17. 18. Events of the 30tli of Prairial — Three of the directors are turned out by the legis-
lative body.
17_19. Defeat of the French at Trebbia.
July 12. Law authorizing the relatives of emigrants and nobles to be seized as hostages.
25. Victory of the French at Aboukir.
30. Mantua taken by the Austrians.
Aug. 15. Defeat of the French at Novi.
22. General Bonaparte quits Egypt.
29. Death of Pope Pius VII. detained a captive at Valence.
Sept. 19. Defeat of the Anglo-Russian army at Bergen, in Holland,
25 — 29. Battle of Zurich. Defeat of the united Austrians and Russians.
Oct. 16. Arrival of Bonaparte in Paris.
18. Capitulation of Anglo-Russians at Alkmaer.
Nov. 9, 10. Revolution of the 18th Brumaire — Bonaparte proclaimed provisional Consul.
Dec. 16. Law organizing the Polytechnic School.
26. Constitution of the year VIII — Bonaparte nominated First Consul, Cambaceres and
Lebrun associated with him as second and third Consuls.
INTRODUCTION
BY THE EDITOR.
Of all the native historians — and their name is Legion — who have
written on the subject of the French Revolution, the two most distin-
guished are decidedly Messrs. Thiers and Mignct. Both these emi-
nent men are remarkable for the impartial tone of their narratives,
considering how recent are the stirring events of which they treat ;
for the accuracy of their details ; for the skill with Avhich they com-
pare and sift conflicting evidence, and the general justness of their
conclusions ; and for the luminous and succinct manner in which they
trace, step by step, the progress of the most awful moral convulsion
that the world has yet known. They do not mix themselves up with
the strife, or take part in the feverish emotions of the chief combatants,
but stand aloof, as shrewd and cool lookers-on. They enlist neither un-
der the banner of the Gironde nor of the Mountain ; they swear nei-
ther by the sovereignty of Louis, nor by that of the People ; they are
neither Orleanists, nor Septembrizers, nor Terrorists ; but act upon
the broad, enduring principle of giving fair play to all parties.
But though both possess these important historical requisites nearly
equally in common, there are points in which they differ widely from
each other. Thiers shows more of the journalist — Mignet more of
the philosopher in his work. The former, when once he is fairly em-
barked on his task, after a fcAV introductory observations of no great
pith or moment, moves right on, narrating events as they occur, frank-
ly and minutely, without much troubling himself with investigating
causes ; the latter is frequently halting, for the purpose of indulging
in speculations, which although correct and pertinent in the main, are
VOL. I. — I. <y I
11 INTRODUCTION.
occasionally somewhat too subtile and refined for the taste of the
general reader. In their various delineations of character, Thiers ex-
hibits the most worldly tact — IMignet the most metaphysical acuteness,
especially where he has to draw such a portrait as that of the Abb6
Sieyes, whom, because he was like himself, a lover of abstract specu-
lation, and addicted to considering the theory rather than the prac-
tice of Government, M. Mignet has painted con amore, and in his
brightest colours. We cannot help thinking, however, that Burke and
Napoleon were nearer the mark, when they pronounced this well-in-
tentioned but somewhat crotchetty Abb6 to be httle better than a mere
visionary.
To the general reader Thiers's work will always present more at
tractions than that of M. Mignet — for this plain reason, that although
it contains less of what has been called, " the philosophy of history,"
it is of a far more animated, practical, and dramatic character.
There is a shrewd, business-like air about it — although here and there
tlie author would evidently desire to be thought a profounder reasoner
than he is — that all can understand and appreciate. Hence the secret
of the great success that it has met with on the continent. In a word,
Thiers the historian is a perfect facsimile of Thiers the statesman —
an adroit, keen, clear-headed man of the world, with no strong pas-
sions or prejudices to warp or lead astray his judgment.*
It is to be regretted that an author so well versed in the annals of his
country as M. Thiers, has not thought it worth his while to enter more
into detail on the subject of the numerous secondary causes which
helped to bring about the French Revolution. It will be observed that,
after a few brief introductory paragraphs, of a didactic rather than an
historical character, he comes at once to his subject, as if he took for
granted that all his readers were as well acquainted as himself with the
remote, as well as with the immediate, origin of that memorable event.
His history may be said to commence with the derangement of the
national finances after the death of Maurepas ; but the seeds of the
revolution were sown long before his time. The immediately pro-
pelling cause was no doubt financial, but the struggle had become ne-
cessary — it may almost be said — from the day of the decease of the
Grand Monarque.
After the cessation of the wars of the Fronde and the death of
Mazarin, Colbert, whose knowledge of finance had introduced him to
the notice of that wily minister, succeeded to power. This great states-
* For a brief but well-written character of Tliiers as an historian, the reader is
referred to a review of Mr. Carlyle's French Revolution, which appeared in the
"Times" newspaper d few weeks ago
INTRODUCTION. lU
man, who was far in advance of his age, was every way calculated to
make France happy and flourishing. Accordingly, under his bene-
ficent auspices, she made rapid strides towards prosperity. Com-
merce was encouraged — domestic dissensions were healed, as if by
mao^ic — navies equipped — colonies founded — the fine arts and litera-
ture patronised — the authority of the law respected — and the duty of
toleration enforced in religious matters, Colbert was essentially a
peace Minister; and, had he been permitted to retain his authority,
and to put in force his projected reforms, the majority of which were
of a grand and comprehensive character, it is not impossible that the
constant struggles which ultimately te^jpinated in revolution might
have been avoided, or at any rate retarded for years ; but unfortunately
all his patriotic efibrts were thwarted by the intrigues of his sworn
foe, the war minister, Louvois, who, by flattering the humours and
pandering to the ambition of Louis, plunged France into a destruc-
tive and extravagant war with Europe, the efi:ects of which, felt hea-
vily during this showy monarch's reign, were felt with still more seve-
rity by his feeble and thoughtless successors.
It was at this disastrous period that absolute monarchy was defini-
tively established. The crown arrogated the right to dispose alike
of person and of property without the slightest regard to law or equity.
The nation, though divided into three orders, which were again sub-
divided into several classes, may yet be said to have consisted of but
two distinct parties — the privileged and the unprivileged. The latter
of course constituted the great mass of the community. On them
fell the chief burdens of the state ; for the noblesse were, to a great
degree, exempt from imposts ; and the clergy had the convenient pri-
vilege of taxing themselves. " This order," says M. Mignet, " was
divided into two classes, one of which was destined for the bishoprics,
abbacies, and their rich revenues ; the other, to apostolic labours, and
to poverty. The Tiers-Hal, borne down by the Court, and harassed
by the noblesse, was itself separated into corporations, which retali-
ated upon each other the evils and oppressions that they suft'ered from
their superiors. They possessed scarcely a third part of the soil, upon
which they were compelled to pay feudal services to their lords, tithes
to their priests, and imposts to the King. In compensation for so
many sacrifices they enjoyed no rights ; had no share in the adminis-
tration ; and were admitted to no public employments."
Such was the condition of France at the most imposing period of
Louis XIV. 's reign. Colbert would have gone far to remedy this state
of things — for he was as bold and determined as he was sagacious ;
but he had passed from the theatre of action, and henceforth there
It introduction.
was none to interfere with the monarch's will. The noblesse could
not, even had they desired it — for they Avere reduced to a state of per-
fect dependence, which, however, they bore with equanimity, receiv-
ing its price in pleasures and in I'oyal favour ; and still less could the
parliament, for it had no longer a will— not even a voice of its own.
Nevertheless, though manacled in every limb, France bore with this
state of affairs during the life of the Grand Monarque, for its innate
vanity was gratified by his military glories, by the splendour of his
court, and, above all, by the intellectual triumphs of the age. On a
superficial view, the country would never have appeared so prosper-
ous as at this splendid epocl^ But though all on the surface looked
plausible enough; though pleasure and festivity were the order of the
day ; though the military and literary glories of France were known
and respected throughout Europe, and she herself held the first rank
among nations ; the earthquake was at work beneath, destined
soon to explode with terrific energy.
Despite the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, which added so great-
ly to the discontent of the most industrious and intelligent portion of
the community, and the subjection in which he held all classes, the
highest equally with the lowest of his people, Louis was by no means
a tyrant in the ordinary acceptation of the term. He was simply a
selfish and ambitious man. His youth had been Avholly neglected ;
he was never taught the duties which a sovereign owes to his subjects,
but held it as an axiom not to be controverted, that the many were
made for the one. Passionately fond of excitement, and incapable
of self-restraint, these factitious, unhealthy feelings made him in his
meridian manhood a lover of war, as in his age they converted him
into a bigot. Of the real condition of France, and of the irrepara-
ble injuries which his reckless extravagance Avas yearly inflicting on
her, he knew nothing. Surrounded by sycophants — hailed by grave
divines and renowned wits as the pride and saviour of his country —
he had little difficulty in persuading himself that he was all, and more
than all, that he was said to be. It was his leading defect throughout
life to be ever mistaking the show for the substance of national pros-
perity.
The exertions which this monarch made to encourage a taste for
literature, and to diftuse intelligence among his people, conduced,
even more than his own improvident system of government, to sow the
seeds of revolution. By creating a habit of reflection among those
who up to this time were, comparatively speaking, immersed in igno-
rance, he went far, without meaning to do so, to establish public
opinion ; and every one knows that the spirit of inquiry once set in
INTRODUCTION. V
motion cannot be stopped ; for it is like the rising tide, which, liow-
ever it may seem to recede, gains ground with every wave. Accord-
ingly, the impulse given to intehect by Louis, went on increasing,
quietly and insidiously, year by year. The Tiers-etat began to look
about them, to discuss the causes of the evils under which they had so
long groaned, and to speculate on the nature of the remedy.
While the popular mind was thus rousing itself from the torpor of
ages, a sect of philosophers and sophists arose, who gave it precisely
that sort of impetus which it was so well fitted to receive. From the
period when these men obtained notoriety by their writings, a revo-
lution became inevitable. They dispelled, as with an enchanter's
wand, the Cimmerian gloom of centuries. Not a question in religion,
jurisprudence, legislation, finance, or social polity, escaped their
searching scrutiny. They exposed the wrongs, and pointed out the
rights of their countrymen ; but while they did this, they at the same
time advocated doctrines wholly incompatible with the well-doing of
civilized society. Mr. Alison, alluding to the startling effects produced
by these men, observes that they " took place under the feeble succes-
sors of the Grand Monarque. In the philosophical speculations of the
eighteenth century, in the writings of Voltaire, Rousseau, Raynal,
and the Encyclopaedists, the most free and unreserved discussion took
place on political subjects. By a singular blindness the constituted
authorities, how despotic soever, made no attempt to curb these in-
quiries, which, being all couched in general terms, or made in refer-
ence to other states, appeared to have no bearing on the tranquillity
of the kingdom. Strong in the support of the nobility and the pro-
tection of the army, they deemed their power beyond the reach of
attack ; and anticipated no danger from dreams on the social contract,
or the manners and spirit of nations. A direct attack on the mo-
narchy would have been followed by an immediate place in the Baslile ;
but general disquisitions excited no alarm either among the nobility, or
in the government. So nniversal was this delusion, that the young
nobility amused themselves with visionary speculations concerning
the original equality and pristine state of man: deeming such specu-
lations as inapplicable to their case as the license of Otaheite or the
equality of Tartary."
Foremost among those whose writings tended to inflame and per-
vert the public mind were V^oltaire and Rousseau. The former of
these had every possible requisite for such a task. Shrewd, calcu-
lating, and cunning as a fox ; a wit without heart, an innovator with-
out principle ; an expert soj)hist, the light thin soil of whose mind
could not nourish the tree of knowledge ; acquainted with society in
VI INTRODUCTION.
all its grades, from the highest to the lowest ; a contemner, less from
sound conviction, than from the instincts of overweening self-conceit,
of all systems of religion, government, and morals — this " brilliant
Frenchman," as Cowper justly calls him, was just the man to pre-
cipitate the grand crisis of the Revolution. All who read, could under-
stand him. There was no affected mysticism in his manner, no pow-
er of deep reflection, for his thoughts lay on the surface ; he was uni-
formly concise, lucid, and plausible ; and set off his style by all the
graces of the most sparkling wit and cutting sarcasm. His favourite
mode of dealing with the most momentous matters, was by insinua-
tion. He sneers away a moral principle in a sentence, and disturbs
one's faith in religion and humanity, by a terse and sparkling alle-
gory. That he effected some good in his generation, is vmquestiona-
ble. He denounced the avarice and negligence of the privileged
priesthood ; lashed the insane rage for war, then so general on the
continent ; exposed the vices and imbecility of the noblesse ; and did
not spare even the throne itself. Had he stopped here, it had been
well ; but his restless intellect spurned all decent restraints, perversely
confounded the distinctions between truth and falsehood — sophis-
try and common sense. Like an Irishman in a row, he laid about
him with his club without the slightest regard to consequences. Cyn-
ical by nature, the crimes and utter callousness that he observed
among the higher classes made him a sceptic to all generous emotions;
as the corruption of the privileged clergy made him reject all belief in
Christianity. Hazlitt, who of all men in the world was the least
likely to underrate him, has well observed that " the poisoned wound
he inflicted was so fine as scarcely to be felt, until it rankled and fes-
tered in its mortal consequences ; and that he loved to reduce things
below their level, making them all alike seem worthless and hollow !"
Of a far different order of intellect, but in his way equally influen-
tial, Avas Voltaire's great rival, Rousseau. The object of this insidi-
ous sentimentalist was — in politics, to bring about republicanism ; in
ethics, to subvert the entire frame-work of society, and introduce uni-
versal license ; in religion, to do away with faith grounded on the con-
victions of reason, and to substitute in its stead the cant of instinct
and sensibility. His specious, shallow, tinsel eloquence, which was
mistaken for the sterling ore of thought, turned the brain of all
France. Because his ideas were eccentric, they were accounted pro-
found ; and his studied lewdness was received as the prompting of a
healthy and impassioned temperament. We who live in more en-
lightened times, when the public mind is able to detect the true from
the false, and, if crazy for a season by some pet crotchet, never fails
INTRODUCTION. VU
soon to right itself, can scarcely imagine the cfTect wliich Vohaire and
Rousseau, assisted by the Encyclopaedists, produced in their day.
That a convulsion would have taken place, even without their aid, is
unquestionable ; but equally certain is it that they greatly contributed
to hurry on the crisis. The effects of their writings may easily be
traced in the sophistical speculations of the unworldly Girondins — the
republican cant of the Dantonists — and the sentimental infidelity of
the worshippers of the Goddess of Reason.
The radical defect of all Rousseau's writing was the substitution of
sentiment for principle. Never was man so glaringly deficient in what
may be called the moral sense. His mind " wore motley," and was
made up of inconsistencies. While he professed to inculcate a sys-
tem of the purest ethics, he lived in avowed adultery with a woman old
enough to be his mother ; and wrote upon the duties owing by parents
to their children, while he sent his own to the Foundling Hospital !
That he was actuated throughout his literary career by no better feel-
ing than a mere morbid craving for notoriety is evident from one of
his published conversations with Burke, wherein he observes that, find-
ing that the ordinary vehicle of literature was worn out, he took upon
himself the task of renewing the springs, repainting the panels, and
gilding the whole machine afresh. In other words, he was solely
anxious to create a sensation, no matter how eccentric were the means
which he employed for that purpose.
It was the fiishion of the day, even among the court circles — where
the spirit was utterly unknown — to praise this man as the apostle of
liberty. This is certainly a saving clause in his favour — or at least
would be so, were it not altogether fallacious. Rousseau's love of
independence was purely a factitious feeling, else wherefore happened
it that he was the slave of his own diseased imagination ? To be the
true apostle of freedom the man himself must be free. No mean dis-
trusts — no maudlin misanthrophy — no sensual, prurient fancies — must
interfere with, or influence, his opinions. He must tower above the
ordinary level of mankind as much in conduct as in intellect ; for by
the union of worth and genius alone is the world's conviction ensured.
Yet it has been urged by those, who, seduced by their talents, would
fain, make excuses for their sophistries, that Rousseau and Voltaire
acted from the best intentions. This is pure cant — the plea urged by
every knave for his offences against society. The bar of the Old
Bailey is filled every session with the best intentions ; they figure un-
equivocally in the police-offices ; people the vast pasturages of Aus-
tralia, and form — says the quaint old Spanish proverb — the pavement
of heU itself!
i
vill INTRODUCTION.
While Voltaire and Rousseau, in conjunction with the Encyclopaedists,
were thus striking at the roots of social order, under the pretence of
invi^oratinar them, tlie court and the noblesse — frantic suicides ! — were
assisting them by every means in their power, first, by their applause,
and secondly by their vices. Louis XV., an imbecile, sensual prince,
without vigour, principle, or consistency of character, set an example
of gross licentiousness, which his courtiers were not slow to follow, and
which furnished the sophists with ample food for sarcasm and decla-
mation. Under the disastrous reign of this monarch, justice was
bought and sold like any other commodity. A liberal present, the
promise of promotion, the smiles of a beautiful wife or mistress, could,
in seven cases out of ten, sway the decision of a judge. Criminal
commissions, the members of which were nominated by the crown,
were frequently appointed, thus rendering personal liberty as insecure
as i-eal property. ^Varrants of imprisonment, too, without either ac-
cusation or trial, might consign obnoxious individuals to a dungeon
for life. Moreover, enormous debts were contracted without national
autliority ; and the public creditors were kept wholly in the dark as
to the state of the national finances.
Another predisposing cause to revolution was the preposterous sa-
laries of the civil servants of the crown, and of the aristocratic officers
of the army, who, though paid at a rate which would now appear in-
credible, yet made a point of neglecting their duties, or bribing others
to perform them. Every where Corruption stalked abroad with un-
blushing front. It wore the general's uniform — the judge's robe — the
bisliop's hood. It had the privilege of the entre. at court, and sate
next the monarch at the royal banquet. The most important func-
tions of government were carried on in the boudoirs of mistresses ;
the petticoat decided questions o war or peace ; and he would have
been deemed a most incompetent Minister indeed, who would have
dared to controvert the opinions of a Pompadour or a Du Barri.
Pope has admirably described this state of things in his magnificent
epilogue to the satires :
" III soldier, ehiirclimnn, patriot, man in power,
'Tisavjirice ail, ambition is no more;
See all our nobles begging to be slaves!
See all our fools aspiring to be knaves !
All, all look nj) with reverential awe
At crimes that 'scape or triumph o'er the law,
AVMiile truth, worth, wisdom, daily they decry,
Notiiiug is sacred now but villany !"
The Tiers-itat were become quite intelligent enough to appreciate
INTRODUCTION. «
the condition of France at tliis critical period ; but as yet they stifled
their indignation, or only gave vent to it in occasional remonstrance.
The stream still flowed on smooth, and the Court, because they heard
not the thunder of the cataract, imagined that they were far removed
from danger. Infatuated men ! They were already within the Ra-
pids !
The spirit of discontent that prevailed among the middle classes,
prevailed still more strongly among the peasantry ; and with good
cause, for their local burdens, and the services due by them to their
feudal superiors, were vexatious and oppressive in the extreme. " The
most important operations of agriculture," says an liistorian wlio has
been already quoted, " were fettered or prevented by the game laws,
and the restrictions intended for their support. Game of the most
destructive kind, such as wild boars and herds of deer, were permitted
to go at large through spacious districts, without any enclosure to
protect the crops. Numerous edicts existed, which prohibited hoeing
and weeding, lest the young partridges should be disturbed ; mowing
hay, lest the eggs should be destroyed ; taking away the stubble lest
the birds should be deprived of shelter ; manuring with night soil,
lest their flavour should be injured. Complaints for the infraction of
these edicts were all carried before the manorial courts, where ever}'
species of oppression, chicanery, and fraud was prevalent. Fines
were imposed at every change of property in the direct and collateral
line ; at every sale to purchasers ; the people were bound to grind
their corn at the landlord's mill, press their grapes at his press, and
bake their bread at his oven. Obligations to repair the roads, founded
on custom, decrees, and servitude, wei'e enforced with the most rigor-
ous severity ; in many places the use even of handmills was not free,
and the seigneurs were invested with the power of selling to the pea-
sants tlie right of bruising buckwheat or barley between two stones.
It is vain to attempt a description of the feudal services which pressed
with so much severity in every part of France." IMr. Young, who
travelled through France about this period, bears equal testimony to
the wretched condition of the peasantry. " With a very few excep-
tions," he observes, " they were in the most indigent state — their
houses, dark, comfortless, and almost destitute of furniture — their
dress ragged and miserable — their food the coarsest and most humble
fare. They were oppressed by their feudal superiors with a variety
of the most fjalling burdens." No wonder that when the Revolution
at length broke out, these slaves of ages rose enthusiastically at the
the first summons of the demajjojjues and anarchists !
Another just cause of discontent was the intolerable pride and inso-
VOL. I.— 2 < 1
X INTRODUCTION.
leiice of the old aristocratic families. These men were spell-bound
by the charm of caste — the veriest slaves to conventional etiquette.
They built up a wall of demarcation between themselves and the rest
of the community, as if they were fashioned of more " precious por-
celain ;" held all the useful arts of life in lofty contempt; and were
'ealous of even the slightest whisper of opposition to their caprices.
While the mind of the whole Tiers-ttat was on the stir, they stood
etock still. The most unequivocal signs of the times they either per-
verted to their own advantage, or treated as portents of no account.
Inordinately attached to freedom in theory — a passion engendered by
the writings of the philosophers — they repudiated the bare idea in
practice. As for anything like a middle class, they scorned to recog-
nise the existence of such a vulgarity — an insult which the men of
that class felt so keenly, that, by way of avoiding it, they used, when
they had the means of doing so, to purchase a patent of nobility.
But this only made matters worse, for the old families became so
jealous of these Parvenus, as they called them, that even when the
Revolution threatened to sweep away all orders of nobility into one
common grave, they could not be prevailed on to combine for their
mutual safety. In every stage of the grand crisis, up to the period of
their emigration, their motto was " no surrender." They were re-
solved rather to perish than degrade themselves by even a temporary
alliance with the nobles of mere yesterday !
Extremes, it is said, meet ; but this was not the case as respects the
highest and lowest classes in France. The former held no kindly in-
tercourse with the latter ; and though possessing, in conjunction with
the clergy, two-thirds of the whole estates of the kingdom, yet they
were for the most part non-residents on their property, wasting in the
dissipation of Paris those means which should have been employed
in ministering to the comforts and happiness of their dependants.
Having thus contrived to alienate the affections of the peasantry,
equally with the esteem and confidence of the middle classes, who
can be surprised that the nobility foundered, like a leaky vessel, in the
very first hurricane of the Revolution 1
The ecclesiastical establishment of France was in the same diseased
state. All persons of plebeian birth were diligently excluded from its
dignities. However splendid might be their talents, and unsullied
their character, they were yet doomed to labour at the oar for life.
They withered — to quote the emphatic expression of Colonel Napierin
his history of the Peninsular War — " beneath the cold shade of Aris-
tocracy." Hence, when the great explosion took place, it had the
sympathies of all the humbler clergy, who supported the cause of
INTRODUCTION. M
freedom with the weight of their moral influence, and did not with-
draw from it, till it evinced symptoms of degenerating into anarchy.
In the army things were little better ordered. The abuses in the
distribution of the pay and the accoutrements of the different
regiments were notorious ; and while the spirit of innovation was
making rapid headway among the soldiers, the higher officers were
enthusiastic in their admiration of the starch Prussian discipline. As
if this hobby were not sufficiently hazardous, these aristocratic marti-
nets procured the adoption of a regulation, which even Louvois would
never have dreamed of sanctioning, that a hundred years of nobility
was necessary to qualify an officer ! True, this order was rescinded
shortly after its promulgation, but it did not tend the less to inflame
the discontents of the untitled military. The French guards, in par-
ticular, who being in constant intercourse with the citizens of Paris,
soon caught the prevalent fever of innovation, warmly resented such
arbitrary conduct on the part of the heads of the army, and at the
breaking out of the Revolution were the very first to set the example
of defection.
While all these malign influences were at work, the grand struggle
for independence took place in America. This event startled France
like a thunder-clap. Adieu now to all hope of escape from Revolu-
tion ! The heather is on fire, and nothing can check the progress of
the conflagration. Within the precincts of the palace, in the saloons
of fashion, and universally among the Tiers-ttat, nothing is talked of
but the gallantry of the transatlantic patrots. Washington is the hero —
Franklin the philosopher of the day. Carried away by the general
enthusiasm, and glad no doubt of such an opportunity of humbling
the pride, and increasing the difficulties of England — although his
private correspondence would seem to show otherwise — Louis XVI.
took the desperate resolution of supplying the insurgent colonies with
funds and troops. It was the misfortune of this prince, who possessed
many excellent private and public qualities, to do every thing with the
best intentions, and to succeed in nothing. " As for the King" — says
Mr. Carlyle in his eloquent analytical history of the Revolution — " he,
as usual, will go wavering cameleon-like, changing colour and pur-
pose with the colour of his environment — good for no kingly use."
This is well observed of Louis. He was as " infirm of purpose" as
Macbeth, swayed now by the counsels of the Queen, now by those of
the Assembly, and giving in a bold adhesion to neither. In assisting
the American rebels he took the most suicidal step that it was possible
for a monarch, situated as he was, to take ; for, when his troops re-
turned home — and they constituted the flower of the young noblesse
xu INTRODUCTION.
and the army — they brought back with them opinions and feehngs
until then proscribed in France ; talked loudly of the duty of resist-
ance to despotic authority ; and thus gave an irreparable shock to the
tottering throne of Louis. The grand linal shock, however, was given
by the derangement of the national finances, whose annual deficit,
amounting to above seven millions sterling, compelled the reluctant
monarch to summon the States-General, and thus admit the necessity
of a radical change in the Government — in other words, to sanction
those innovations which could not terminate otherwise than in Revo-
lution.
It is at this period that M. Thiers's history commences. The open-
ing portions of this work present a dramatic picture of the most
striking character. We see in the foregrovmd groups of rejoicing, con-
stitutional patriots ; Mirabeau is there, with the eloquent leaders of the
Gironde, whom Dumouriez has styled, and not without justice, the
"Jesuits of the revolution;" there, too, are Lafayette and Bailly,
men in whom a sincere monarch may have confidence ; but grimly
scowling in the back-ground — for the republican pear is not yet fully
ripe — lurk the frightful figures of Robespierre and the Hebertists,
biding their time to turn this scene of national exultation, into one of
tears and blood, despair and raging madness. But enough of this. —
Ring the bell — draw up the curtain — and let the drama begin.
PREFACE
BY THE AUTHOR,
I PURPOSE writing the history of a memorable revolution, which has
profoundly agitated the minds of men, and which still continues to
divide them. I disguise not from myself the difficulties of the under-
taking ; for passions, which were supposed to have been stifled under
the sway of military despotism, have recently revived. All at once
men bowed down by age and toil have felt resentments, which, accord-
ing to appearance were appeased, awaken within them, and they have
communicated them to us, their sons and heirs. But if we have to
uphold the same cause, we have not to defend their conduct, for we
can separate liberty from those who have rendered it service or dis-
service ; whilst we possess the advantage of having observed those
Veterans, who, still full of their recollections, still agitated by their im-
pressions, reveal to us the spirit and the character of parties, and teach
us to comprehend them.* Perhaps the moment when the actors are
about to expire is the most proper for writing this history : we can col-
lect their evidence without participating in all their passions.
Be this as it may, I have endeavoured to stifle within my own bo-
som every feeling of animosity : T alternately figured to myself that,
born in a cottage, animated with a just ambition, I was resolved to ac-
* " The people never revolt from fickleness, or the mere desire of change. It
is the impatience of suffering which alone has this effect."— Sully's Memoirs. E.
XIV PREFACE
quire what the pride of the higher classes had unjustly refused me ;
or that, bred in palaces, the heir to ancient privileges, it was painful
to me to renounce a possession which I regarded as a legitimate pro-
perty. Thenceforward I could not harbour enmity against either
party ; I pitied the combatants, and I indemnified myself by admiring
generous deeds wherever I found them.
HISTORY
OF THE
FRENCH REVOLUTION.
Every body is acquainted with the revolutions of the Frencli mo-
narchy. It is well known that the Greeks, and afterwards the Romans,
introduced their arms and their civilization amonw the half savage
Gauls ; that subsequently the Barbarians established their military
hierarchy among them ; that this hierarchy, transferred from persons
to lands, struck root, as it were, and grew up into the feudal system.
Authority was divided between the feudal chief called king, and the
secondary chiefs called vassals, who in their turn were kings over their
own dependants. In our times, when the necessity for preferring mu-
tual accusations has caused search to be made for reciprocal faults,
abundant pains have been taken to teach us that the supreme authori-
tity was at first disputed by the vassals, which is always done by those
who are nearest to it ; that this autliority was afterwards divided
among them, which constituted feudal anarchy ; and that at length it
reverted to the throne, where it concentrated itself into despotism,
under Louis XI., Richelieu, and Louis XIV.
The French population had progressively enfranchised itself by in-
dustry, the primary source of wealth and liberty. Though originally
agricultural, it soon devoted its attention to commerce and manufac-
tures, and acquired an importance that affected the entire nation. In-
troduced as a supplicant into the States-General, it appeared there in
no other posture than on its knees, in order to be grievously abused.
In process of time, even Louis XIV. declared that he would have no
more of these cringing assemblies ; and this he declared to the parlia-
ments, booted and whip in hand. Thenceforth were seen, at the head
of the state, a king clothed Avith a power ill defined in theory, but ab-
16 HISTORY OF THE
solute in practice ; grandees who had reUnquished their feudal dig-
nity for the favour of the monarch, and who disputed by intrigue what
was granted to them out of the substance of the people ; beneath them
an immense population, having no other relation to the court and the
aristocracy than habitual submission and the payment of taxes. Be-
tween the court and the people were parliaments invested with the
power of administering justice and registering the royal decrees. Au-
thority is always disputed. If not in the legitimate assemblies of the
nation, it is contested in the very palace of the prince. It is well
known that the parliaments, by refusing to register the royal edicts,
rendered them ineffective : this terminated in ' a bed of justice' and a
concession when the king was weak, but in entire submission when
the king was powerful. Louis XIV. had no need to make concessions,
for in his reign no parliament durst remonstrate ; he drew the nation
along in his train, and it glorified him with the prodigies which itself
achieved in war and in the arts and sciences. The subjects and the
monarch were unanimous, and their actions tended towards one and
the same point. But no sooner had Louis XIV. expired, than the Re-
gent afforded the parliaments occasion to revenge themselves for their
long nullity. The will of the monarch, so profoundly respected in
his life-time, Avas violated after his death, and his last testament was
cancelled. Authority was then thrown into litigation, and a long strug-
gle commenced between the parliaments, the clergy, and the court, in
si;;ht of a nation worn out with long wars and exhausted by supplying
the extravagance of its rulers, who gave themselves up alternately to a
fondness for pleasure and for arms. Till then it had displayed no skill
but for the service and the ^ratification of the monarch : it now beo-an
to apply its intelligence to its own benefit and the examination of its
interests.
The hutnan mind is incessantly passing from one object to another.
From tlie theatre and the pulpit, French genius turned to the moral
and political sciences : all then became changed. Figure to yourself,
during a whole century, the usurpers of all the national rights quar-
relling about a worn-out authority ; the parliaments persecuting the
clergy, the clergy persecuting the parliaments ; the latter disputing the
authority of the court ; the court, careless and calm amid this struggle,
squandering the substance of the people in the most profligate de-
bauchery ; the nation, enriched and roused, watching these disputes,
arming itself with the allegations of one party against the other, de-
prived of all political action, dogmatizing boldly and ignorantly, be-
cause it was confined to theories ; aspiring, above all, to recover its
rank in Europe, and ofl:ering in vain its treasure and its blood to re-
gain a place which it had lost through the weakness of its rulers.
Such was the eighteenth century.*
* " Since the reign of the Roman emperors profligacy had never been conducted
ill so open and undisguised a niauiier, as under Louis XV. and the Reeent Orleans.
The reign of Louis XV. is the most deplorable in French history. If we seek for
tl'.e characters who govornt^d the a<:e, we must search the anlechambers of the Duke
de Choiseul, or the boudoirs of Madame Pompadour or Du Barri. The whole
frame of society seemed to be discomposed. Statesmen were ambitious to figure as
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 17
The scandal had been carried to its height when Louis XVI., an
equitable prince, moderate in his propensities, carelessly educated, but
naturally of a good disposition, ascended the throne at a very early
age. He called to his side an old courtier, and consigned to him
the care of his kingdom; and divided his confidence between Maurepas
and the Queen, an Austrian princess, young, lively, and amiable,- who
possessed a complete ascendency over him. Maurepas and the Queen
were not good friends. I'he King, sometimes giving way to his minis-
ter, at others to his consort, began at an early period the long career
of his vacillations. Aware of the state of his kingdom, he believed
the reports of the philosophers on that subject ; but, brought up in the
most Christian sentiments, he felt the utmost aversion for them. The
public voice, which was loudly expressed, called for Turgot, one of
the class of economists, an honest, virtuous man, endowed with firm-
ness of character, a slow genius, but obstinate and profound. Con-
vinced of his probity, delighted with his plans of reform, Louis XVL
frequently repeated : " There are none besides myself and Turgot
who are friends of the people." Turgot's reforms were thwarted by
the opposition of the highest orders in the state, who were interested
in maintaining all kinds of abuses, which the austere minister pro-
posed to suppress. Louis XVI. dismissed him with regret. During
his whole life, which was only a long martyrdom, he had the mortifi-
cation to discern what was right, to wish it sincerely, but to lack the
energy requisite for carrying it into execution.!
Tlie King, placed between the court, the parliaments, and the peo-
ple, exposed to intrigues and to suggestions of all sorts, repeatedly
changed his ministers. Yielding once more to the public voice, and
to the necessity for reform, he summoned to the finance department
Necker, a native of Geneva, who had amassed wealth as a banker, a
partisan and disciple of Colbert, as Turgot was of Sully ; an econo-
mical and upright financier, but a vain man, fond of setting himself up
for arbitrator in every thing — philosophy, religion, liberty ; and, mis-
led by the praises of his friends and the public, flattering himself
that he could guide and fix the minds of others at that point at which
his own had stopped.|
men of letters, men oflctters as statesmen; the great seigneurs as bankers the far-
mers-general as great seigneurs. The fashions were as ridiculous as the arts were
misplaced." — Alison's French Revolution. E.
* '• It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France at Ver-
sailles, and surely never lighted on this orh. which she hardly .seemed to touch, a more
delightful vision! I saw her just above the horizon, decoralingand cheering the ele-
vated sphere she just began to move in. glittering like the morning star, full of life,
and splendour, and joy." — Burke's Rrflectinns. V..
t" Turgot, of whom Malesherbes said, ' He has the head of Bacon and the hear;
of I'Hopilal,' aimed at extensive reforms, and laboured to elfect that which the revo-
lution ultimately completed, the suppression of every species of servitude and ex-
clusive privilege. But he had excited the jcalou.xy of the courtiers by his reforms,
of the parliaments by the abolition of the corvies, and of Maurepas by his ascendency
over tlie monarch." —Mig7int. E.
t " J. Necker was the son of a tutor in the college of Geneva. He began life as
a clerk to J\I. Thelhisson, a banker at Paris, whosi' partner he afterwards became,
and in the course of twelve or fourteen years his fortune surpas.sed that of the first
bankers. He then thought of obtaining some place under government, but he at
TOL. I. 3. > 1
18 HISTORY OF THE
Neckor re-established order in the finances, and found means to de-
fray the heavy expenses of the American war. With a mind more
comprehensive, but less flexible, than that of Turgot, possessing more
particularly the confidence of capitalists, he found, for the moment,
unexpected resources, and revived public credit. But it required
something more than financial artifices to put an end to the embar-
rassments of the exchequer, aiid he had recourse to reform. He
found the higher orders not less adverse to him than they had been to
Turgot ; the parliaments, apprised of his plans, combined against him ;
and obhged him to retire.
The conviction of the existence of abuses was universal ; every body
admitted it ; the King knew and was deeply grieved at it. The cour-
tiers, who derived advantage from these abuses, would have been glad
to see an end put to the embarrassments of the exchequer, but without
its costing them a single sacrifice. They descanted at court on the
state of affairs, and there retailed philosophical maxims ; they deplo-
red, whilst hunting, the oppressions inflicted upon the farmer ; nay,
they were even seen to applaud the enfranchisement of the Americans,
and to receive with honour the young Frenchmen who returned from
the New World* The parliaments also talked of the interests of the
first aimed only at the office of first commissioner of finance, to attain which he en-
deavoured to acquire a literary reputation, and published a panegyric on Colbert.
Necker was beginning to enjoy some degree of reputation when Turgot was dis-
graced, and anxious to profit by the dissipation in which the new minister, Clugny,
lived, he presented statements to M. de Maurepas in which he exaggerated the resour-
ces of the state. The rapid fortune of Necker induced a favourable opinion of his ca-
pacity, and after Clugny died he was united with his successor, M. Taboureau des
Reaux, an appointment which he obtained partly by the assistance of the ftlarquis de
Pezay. After eight months' administration, Necker, on the 2d of July, 1777, com-
pelled his colleague to resign, and presented his accounts in 1781. Shortly after, he
endeavoured to take advantage of the public favour, and aspired to a place in the
council. He insisted on it, and threatened to resign ; but he was the dupe of his own
presimiption, and was suffered to retire. In 1787 he returned to France, and wrote
affainst Calonne, who had accused him as the cause of the deficiency in the finances;
this dispute ended in the exile of Necker; but, in 1788, when the general displeasure
against Brienne terrified the court, he was again appointed controller-general, but,
feeling himself supported by the people, he refused to accept the post, unless on the
condition of not labouring in conjunction with the prime minister. Eager for popu-
lar applause, Necker hoped to govern every thing by leading the King to hope for
an increase of power, and the people for a speedy democracy, by the debasement of
the higher orders and the parliaments. The report which he made to the council on
the -27111 of December, 1788, respecting the formation of the States-General, proved
the first spark which lighted the combustible matter that had long been prepared.
On thelllh of Julv, when the court thought fit to declare against tht^ factions, Neck-
er, who had become absolutely their sentinel in the very council of the King, was
dismissed: but on the IGth the assembly wrote him a letter, expressing their regret
at his withdrawal, and informed him that they had obtained his recal. His return
from Basle to Faris was one continued triumph. During the remainder of the
year he was constantly presenting new statements on the resources of the revenue ;
"but he soon perceived that his influence was daily diminishing. At last, the famous
Red Book appeared, and completely put an end to his popularity; so that in the
month of December he determined to fly, after having seen the populace tear from
the gate of his house, the inscription, ' To the adored minister.' He died at Geneva
on the 9th of April, 1804, after a short but painful illness."— From a Memoir of
Necker in the Biosmphie Moderne.. E. . ^ . .
* " The Americ^an war was the great change which blew into a flame the embers
of innovation. Such was the universal enthusiasm which seized upon France at ita
FRENCH REVOLUTION. J9
people, loudly insisted on the sufterings of tfie poor, and yet opposed
tlie equalization of the taxes, as well as the aboHtion of the remains
of feudal barbarism. All talked of the public weal, {e\Y desired it : and
the people, not yet knowing who were its true friends, applauded all
those who resisted power, its most obvious enemy.
By the removal of Turgot and Necker, the state of affairs was not
changed: the distress of the treasury remained the same. Those in
power would have been willing to dispense, for a long time to come,
with the intervention of the nation, but it was absolutely necessary to
subsist — it was absolutely necessary to supply the profusion of the
court. The difficulty, removed for a moment by the dismissal of a
minister, by a loan, or by the forced imposition of a tax, appeared
again in aji aggravated form, like every evil injudiciously neglected.
I'he court hesitated, just as a man does who is compelled to take a
dreaded but an indispensable step. An intrigue brought forward M.
de Calonne, who was not in good odour with the public, because he
had contributed to the persecution of La Chalotais. Calonne, clever,
brilliant, fertile in resources, relied upon liis genius, upon fortune, and
upon men, and awaited the future with the most extraordinary apathy.
It was his opinion that one ought not to be alarmed beforehand, or to
discover an evil till the day before that on which one intends to set
about repairing it. lie seduced the court by his manners, touched it
by his eagerness to grant all that it required, afforded the Ring and
every body else some happier moments, and dispelled the most gloomy
presages by a gleam of prosperity and blind confidence.*
That future which had been counted upon now approached : it be-
came necessary at length to adopt decisive measures. It was imj)os-
sible to burden the people with fresh imposts, and yet the coffers were
empty. There was but one remedy which could be applied ; that was
to reduce the expenses by the suppression of grants ; and if this expe-
dient should not suffice, to extend the taxes to a greater number of
contributors, that is, to the nobility and clergy. These plans, attempt-
ed successively by Turgot and Necker, and resumed by Calonne,
appeared to the latter not at all likely to succeed, unless the consent
of the privileged classes themselves could be obtained. Calonne,
therefore, proposed to collect them together in an assembly, to be called
the Assembly of the Notables, in order to lay his plans before them,
and to gain their consent either by address or by conviction. The as-
sembly was composed of distinguished members of the nobility, clergy,
and magistracy, of a great number of masters of requests and some
commeiiceineiit, that iiohles of the highest rtmk, princes, dukes, and in;irquises, soh-
cited with impatient zeal commissions in the regiments destined to aid tlie insur-
gents. The passion for republican institutions increased with the successes of the
American war, and at length rose to such a height as to infect even the courtiers of
the palace. The philosophers of France used every method of flattery to bring
over the young nobles to their side; and the profession of liberal opinions became
JM indispensable a passport to the saloons of fashion as to the favour of the jjeople."
— Ali>:on's French Rivolution. E.
* " To all the re(piests of the Queen, M. Calonne woidd answer, 'If what your
niaje.sty asks is possible, the thing is done ; if it is impossible, it shall be done.' "'
— H'cocT, Memoirs, ^ E.
20 HISTORY OF THE
magistrates of the provinces. By means of this composition, and
still more by the aid of the chief popular gentry and philosophers,
whom he had taken care to introduce into this assembly, Calonne
flattered himself that he shoiUd be able to carry his point.
The too confident minister was mistaken. Public opinion bore
liim a grudge for occupying the place of Turgot and Necker. De-
lighted in particular that the minister was obliged to render an account,
it supported the resistance of the Notables. Very warm discussions
ensued. Calonne did wrong in throwing upon his predecessors, and
partly on Necker, the existing state of the exchequer. Necker replied,
was exiled, and the opposition became the more obstinate. Calonne
met it with presence of mind and composure. He caused M. de
Miromenil, keeper of the seals, who was conspiring with the parlia-
ments, to be dismissed. But his triumph lasted only two days. The
King, who was attached to him, had, in engaging to support him,
promised more than he could perform. He was shaken by the repre-
sentations of the Notables, who promised to sanction the plans of
Calonne, but on condition that a minister more moral and more deserv-
ing of confidence should be appointed to cany them into execution.
The Queen, at the suggestion of the Abb6 de Vermont, proposed to
the King and prevailed on him to accept a new minister, M.de Brienne,
Archbishop of Toulouse, and one of the Notables who had contri.
buted most to the ruin of Calonne, in hopes of succeeding him.
The Archbishop of Toulouse, a man of weak mind and obstinate
disposition, had from boyhood set his heart upon becoming minister,
and availed himself of all possible means in pursuing this object of
his wishes. He relied principally on the influence of women, whom
he strove to please, and in which he succeeded. He caused his ad-
ministration of Languedoc to be every where extolled. If, on attain-
ing the post of minister, he did not obtain the favour which Necker
had enjoyed, he had at least, in the eyes of the public, the merit of
surperseding Calonne. At first, he Avas not prime minister, but he
soon became so. Seconded by M. de Lamoignon, keeper of the
seals, an inveterate enemy to the parliaments, he commenced his ca-
reer with considerable advantages. The Notables, bound by the pro-
mises which they had made, readily consented to all that they had at
first refused : land-tax, stamp-duty, suppression of the gratuitous ser-
vices of vassals, (corvees) provincial assemblies, were all cheerfully
granted. It was not these measures themselves, but their author,
whom they pretended to have resisted. Public opinion triumphed.
Calonne was loaded with execrations ; and the Notables, supported
by the public suffrage, nevertheless regretted an honour gained at the
cost of the greatest sacrifices. Had M. de Brienne known how to profit
by the advantages of his position ; had he actively proceeded with the
execution of the measures assented to by the Notables ; had he sub-
mitted them all at once and without delay to the parliament, at the
instant when the adhesion of the higher orders seemed to be wrung
from them ; all woidd probably have been over : the parliament, press-
ed on all sides, would have consented to everything, and this conces-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 21
sion, though partial and forced, would probal)ly have retarded for a
long time the struggle which afterwards took place.
Nothing of the kind, however, was done, I3y imprudent delays oc-
casion was furnished for relapses ; the edicts were submitted only one
after another ; the parliament had time to discuss, to gain courage,
and to recover from the sort of surprise by which the Notables had been
taken. It registered, after long discussions, the edict enacting the
second abolitioJi of the corvees, and another permitting the free expor-
tation of corn. Its animosity was particularly directed against the
land-tax ; but it feared lest by a refusal it should enlighten the public,
and show that its opposition was entirely seltish. It hesitated, when
it was spared this embarrassment by the simultaneous presentation ol'
the edict on the stamp-duty and the land-tax, and especially by open-
ing the deliberations with the former. The parliament had thus an
opportunity of refusing the first without entering into explanations res-
pecting the second ; and, in attacking the stamp-duty, which affected
the majority of the payers of taxes, it seemed to defend the interest of
the public. At a sitting which was attended by the peers, it denounced
the abuses, the profligacy, and the prodigality of the court, and de-
manded statements of expenditure. A councillor, punning upon the
itats^ (statements,) exclaimed, " Ce ne sontpas dcs ctats mais des ttats-
gineraux qu'il nousfaaf'' — " It is not statements, but States-General that
we want." This unexpected demand struck every one with astonish-
ment. Hitherto people had resisted because they suffered ; they had
seconded all sorts of opposition, favourable or not to tlie popular cause,
provided they were directed against the court, which was blamed for
every evil. At the same time they did not well know what they ought
to demand : they had always been so far from possessing any influence-
over the ffovernment, they had been so habituated to confine them-
selves to complaints, that they complained without conceiving the idea
of acting, or of bringing about a revolution. The utterance of a single
word presented an unexpected direction to the public mind : it was re-
peated by every mouth, and States-General were loudly demanded.
D'Espremenil, a young councillor, a vehement orator, an agitator
without object, a demagogue in tlie parliaments, an aristocrat in the
States-General, and Avho was declared insane by a decree of the Con-
stituent Assembly — d'Esprenioiil showed himself on this occasion
one of the most violent parliamentary declaimers. But the opposi-
tion was secretly conducted by Diipont, a young man of extraordinary
abilities, and of a firm and persevering character, the only one, per-
haps, who, amid these disturbances, had a specific object in view,
and was solicitous to lead his company, the court, and the nation, to
a very different goal from that of a parliamentary aristocracy.
The parliament was divided into old and young councillors. The
first aimed at forming a counterpoise to the royal atithority, in order
to give consequence to their company. The latter, more ardent and
more sincere, wfre desirous of introducing liberty into the state, yet
without overturning the political system under which they were born.
The parliament made an important admission : it declared that it had
not tlie power to grant imposts, and that to the States-General alone
22 HISTORY OF THE
belonged the right of eptabhshing tliem ; and it required the King to
communicate to it statements of the revenues and the expenditure.
'J'his acknowledgment of incompetence and usurpation, for the
parhament had till then arrogated to itself the right of sanctioning
taxes, could not but excite astonishment. The prelate minister, irri-
tated at this opposition, instantly summoned the parliament to Ver-
sailles, and caused the two edicts to be registered in ' a bed of justice.'
The parliament, on its return to Paris, remonstrated, and ordered an
inquiry into the prodigalities of Calonne. A decision in council
instantly annulled its decrees, and exiled it to Troyes.
Such was the state ofaftairson the loth of August, 1787. The
King's two brothers. Monsieur and the Count d'Artois, were sent, the
one to the Court of Accounts, and the other to the Court of Aids, to
have the edicts registered there. The former, who had become popu-
lar on account of the opinions which he had expressed in the Assembly
of the Notables, was hailed with acclamations by an immense multi-
tude, and conducted back to the Luxembourg amidst universal
j)laudits. The Count d'Artois, who was known to have supported
Calonne, was received with murmurs ; his attendants were attacked,
and it was found necessary to have recourse to the armed force.
The parliaments had around them numerous dependants, composed
of lawyers, persons holding situations in the palace, clerks, and stu-
dents ; an active bustling class, ever ready to bestir themselves in their
behalf. With these natural allies of the parliaments were united the
capitalists, who dreaded a bankruptcy ; the enlightened classes, who
were devoted to all the opposers of power ; and lastly, the multitude,
which always sides with agitators. Serious disturbances took place,
and the supreme authority had great difficulty to suppress them.
The parliament sitting at Troyes met every day and called causes.
Neither advocates nor solicitors appeared, and justice was svispended,
as it had been so many times during the preceding century. Mean-
while the magistrates became weary of their exile, and M. de Brienne
was without money. " He boldly maintained that he did not want any,
and tranquillized the court, uneasy on this single point ; but, destitute
of supplies, and incapable of putting an end to his difficulties by an
energetic resolution, he entered into negotiation with some of the mem-
bers of the parliament. His conditions were a loan of four hundred
and forty millions (of livres,) payable by instalments, in four years, at
the expiration of which the States-General should be convoked. At
this rate Brienne was willing to renounce the two imposts, the objects
of so much discord. Having made sure of some members, he ima-
gined that he was sure of the whole company, and the parliament was
recalled on the 10th of September.
A royal sitting was held on the 20th of the same month. The King
went in person to present the edict enacting the creation of the suc-
cessive loan and the convocation of the States-(i'eneral in five years.
No explanation had been given respecting the nature of this sitting,
and it was not known whether it was ' a bed of justice', or not. The
looks of the members were gloomy, and a profound silence prevailed,
when the Duke of Orleans rose with agitated countenance and all the
FRENCH REVOLUTION. ^
signs of strong emotion ; he addressed the King, and asked liim if
this sitting were ' a bed of justice,' or a free deliberation. " 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 usual violence. The registration was immediately enforced :
Freteau and Sabatier were exiled to the Hieres Islands, and the Duke
of Orleans to Villers-Cotterets. The States-General were postponed
for five years.
Such were the principal events of the year 1787. The year 1788
commenced with fresh hostilities. On the f<jurth of January the par-
liament passed a decree against Icttrcs dc cachet, and for the recul of
exiled persons. The King cancelled this decree ; the parliament con-
firmed it anew.
Meanwhile the Duke of Orleans, banished to Yillers-Cottcrets,
could not endure his exile. This prince, in quarrelling with the court,
had reconciled himself with public opinion, which was at first unfa-
vourable to him. Destitute alike of the dignity of a prince and the
firjuness of a tribune,* he was incapable of enduring so slight a puu-
* " Louis-Pfiilippe-Joseph, Duke ofOrleaiis, one of the French princes of the blood,
was boru at St. Cloud on the llith of April, J747, and rendered the title of Due de
Ciiartres, vvliich he bore till his father's death, celebrated by his depravity. He was in
stature below the iiiiddle size, but very well made, and his features were regular and ^
pleasing, till libertinism and debauchery covered them with red, inflamed pustules. ^"^
He was very early bald; was skilled in all bodily exercises; kind and compassion-
ate in his domestic relations, and endowed with good natural abilities, thoiigli igno-
rant and credulous. As he was to succeed the Due de Penthievre in the oliicc of
liigh admiral, he thought fit, in 1778, to make a naval campaign, and commanded the
rearguard of M. d'Orvilliers' fleet in the battle oft'Ushant, in which he wa.s on board
an S4-gun ship. It was then assiduously rumoured that the Due de Chartres had
concealed himself in the hold of the ship ; which seems improbable, as die vessel in
which he was, was never within reach of the cannon. The court, however, took up
this injurious anecdote, and, when he appeared, overwhelmed him with epigrams ; the
King too, instead of making him high admiral, .ip[)ointed him colonel-general of the
hussars — a singular and contemptuous reward for sea-service, which is said to liave
partly laid the foundation of his hatred for Louis. Some time afterwards he ascended
in a balloon ; and as a few years before he had gone down into a mine, where he was
said to have shown but little self-possession, it was stated that he had thought proper
to show all the elements his cowardice. On the death of the Comte de Clermont he
got himself a])pointed master of all the masonic lodges in France. In 1787 liis father
died, and he then took the title of Duke of Orleans, and sought to render himself
popular. By the advice of his creatures, he opposed the King in the royal meeting on
the 19lh of November, 1787, and was exiled to Villers-Cotterets ; but in return for the
sums he lavished on the journalists, he soon became the idol of the populaci;. Ano-
ther method which he successfully put in practice to obtain the favour of the peo-
ple, was to buy up corn, and then relieve those who were languishing under the artifi-
cial .scarcity. In 1788-9, public tables were spread and fires lighted, by his order, for
the paupers of the metropolis, and sums of money were likewise distributed among
them. In the very earliest meetings, he protested against the proceedings of his
chamber, and joined that of Xhntkractut, with the dissentient members of his order.
From tliispi;riod he divided his time between the meetings of tlu; national ass>Mnbly
and thodo of his own advisers, who a.ssembled first at the Palais Royal, and afterwards
■ at Passy. On the '.V\ of July he was nominated president of the national asseiubly ;
but he refused the post, anil busied huuself in corru[)tiinr the regiment of I'rench
guards, and in pre[)aring the events of .Fuly the J4th. Lafayette having menaced
him withthi' tribunals if lie did not leave France, he went over to England ; but at the
end of eight months returned, and was received with transport by the Jacobins. In
J791 M. Thevenard, before lie resigned the administration of the marine, caused the
24 HISTORY OF THE
ishment, and, in order to obtain his recal, he descended to soUcitations
even to the Queen, his personal enemy.
Brienne was exasperated by obstacles without possessing energy to
to overcome them. Feeble in Europe against Prussia, to which he
sacrificed Holland — feeble in France against the parliament and the
grandees of the state — he had now no supporter but the Queen, and,
moreover, was frequently checked in his operations by ill health. He
neither knew how to suppress insurrection nor how to enforce the re-
trenchments decreed by the King ; and, notwithstanding the rapidly
approaching exhaustion of the exchequer, he affected an inconceiva-
ble security. Meanwhile, amidst all these difficulties, he did not
neglect to obtain new benefices for himself, and to heap new dignities
upon his family.
Lamoignon, the keeper of the seals, a man of a stronger mind but
possessing less inffuence than the Archbishop of Toulouse, concerted
witli him a new plan for accomplishing the principal object, that of
destroying the political power of the parliaments. It was of import-
ance to keep it secret. Every thing was prepared in silence : private
letters were sent to the commandants of the provinces ; the office
where the edicts were printed was surrounded with guards. It was
intended that the plan should not be known till the moment of its
communication to the parliaments. That moment approached, and
it was rumoured that an important political act was in preparation.
D'Espremenil, the councillor, contrived to procure a copy of the
edicts, by bribing one of the printer's men ; he then repaired to the
palace, summoned his colleagues to assemble, and boldly denounced
the plans of the minister.
According to this plan, the too extensive authority of the parliament
of Paris was to be abridged, by the establishment of six great baillages
duke to be appointed admiral of France, for which the latter went to thank the King
in person, and to assure hiui how grossly he had been misrepresented. When, Jiovv-
ever, lie appeared at the levee, all the courtiers insulted him in the most outrageous
manner, to which he would never be persuaded that their majesties were not privy,
and this excited his irreconcilable enmity against them. On the 15th of September,
17iJ2, the comnuine of Paris authorized him to assume the name of Egalite for himself
and his descendants, and deputed him to the national convention. When the King's
trial took place, the Duke of Orleans voted for the death of his cousin with a degree
of coolness which irritated the majority of the Jacobins themselves, and excited
murmurs throughout the assembly. On the fatal day he came to the Place de Louis
XV., and was present during the execution in an open carriage ; as soon as the body
was removed, he returned to the Palais Royal, and went in a carriage drawn by six
horses to revel at Raincy with his accomplices. It was then said that the Prince of
Wales, having been informed of his conduct on this occasion, tore in pieces his por-
trait, which he had left him. Towards the end of April, Robespierre caused his
name to be erased from the list of Jacobins, though Kgalite had sworn to the Con-
vention, OK the 4th of the same month, that if his son, (the present King of France,) who
had just fled with Dumouriez, was guilty, the image of Brutus, which was before
his eyes, would remind him of his duty. Soon afterwards a warrant was issued for
his arrest; he was reuiovi^d to the prison of Marseilles, and, after six montiis' capti-
vity', sent to take his trial at Paris. As a matter of course, the revolutionary tribunal
found him guilty, and lie was guillotined on the Gth of Novetuber, 1793, when he
was forty-six years of age. lie shrugged his shoulders on hearing the people hiss
and curse him as he was led to death, and cried out, ' Tiiey used to applaud me.' "
From an article in the Biographie Moderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. . 25
in its jurisdiction. The power of judging without appeal, and of re-
gistering tlie laws and edicts, was to be transferred to a plenary court,
composed of peers, prelates, magistrates, and military officers ;
all appointed by the king. Even the captain of the guard was to have
a deliberative voice in it. This plan attacked the judicial authority of
the parliament, and utterly annihilated its political power. The com-
pany, struck with consternation, knew not what course to pursue. It
could not deliberate upon a plan which had not been submitted to it;
at the same time it was of importance that it should not suffer itself to
be taken by surprise. In this embarrassment it had recourse to an
expedient at once firm and adroit, — that of recapitulating and con-
firming in a decree all that it called constitutional laws of the mo-
narchy, taking care to include in the number its own existence and
rights. By this general measure it by no means forestalled the sup-
posed projects of the government, and secured all that it wished to
secure.
In consequence, it was declared, on the 5th of May, by the parlia-
ment of Paris :
" That France was a monarchy governed by a king, according to
the laws ; and that among these laws, several, which were fundamen-
tal, embraced and consecrated : 1. The right of the reigning house
to the throne, from male to male, in the order of primogeniture ; '2. The
right of the nation to grant subsidies freely through the organ of the
States-General, regularly convoked and composed; 3. The customs
and capitulations of the provinces ; 4. The irremoveability of the
magistrates ; 5. The right of the courts to verify in each province the
edicts of the king, and not to order the registration of them, unless
they were conformable to the constitutive laws of the province, as well
as to the fundamental laws of the state ; 6. The right of each citizen
not to be tried in any manner by other than his natural judges, who
were those appointed by the law ; and, 7. The right, without which all
the others were useless, of not being arrested by any order whatever,
unless to be delivered without delay into the hands of competent judges.
The said court protested against all attacks which might be made upon
the principles above expressed."
To this energetic resolution the minister replied in the usual way,
always injudicious and ineffectual — he adopted violent measures
against some of the members of the parliament. D'Espremeiiil and
Goislart de Monsalbert, being apprized that they wei'e threatened,
sought refuge amidst the assembled parliament. An officer, Vincent
d'Agoult, repaired thither at the head of a company ; and, not know-
ing the persons of the magistrates designated, he called them by their
names. The deepest silence at first pervaded the assembly : all the
councillors then cried out that they were d'Espremenil. At length
the real d'Espremenil declared who he was, and followed the officer
ordered to arrest him. The tumult was then at its height; the popu-
lace accompanied the magistrates, hailing them with shouts of ap-
plause. Three days afterwards, the King, in a bed of justice, caused the
edicts to be registered, and the assembled princes and peers exhibited
an image of thatplenary court which was to succeed the parliaments.
VOL. X. — 4. ' 2
26 , HISTORY OF THE
The Chatelet immediately issued a decree against the edicts. The
parhament of Rennes declared all who should belong to the plenary
court infamous. At Grenoble, the inhabitants defended their magis-
trates against two regiments. The troops themselves, excited to disobe-
dience by the military noblesse, soon refused to act. When the com-
mandant of Dauphine assembled his colonels, to inquire if their soldiers
were to be relied, upon, all of them kept silence. The youngest, who
was to speak first, replied that no reliance was to be placed on his,
from the colonel downwards. To this resistance the minister opposed
decrees of the great council, which cancelled the decisions of the
sovereign courts, and he punished eight of them with exile.
The court, annoyed by the higher orders, which made war upon itin
espousing the interests of the people and calling for their interference,
had recourse, on its part, to the same means. It resolved to summon
the tiers-etat (the third estate) to its aid, as the kings of France had
formerly done to break up the feudal system. It then urged, with all
its might, the convocation of the States-General. It ordered investi-
gations respecting the mode of their assembling ; it called upon wri-
ters and learned Ijodies to give their opinions ; and, whilst the assem-
bled clergy declared on its part that a speedy convocation was desira-
ble, the court, accepting the challenge, suspended at the same time the
meeting of the plenary court, and fixed the opening of the States-
General for the first of May, 1789. Then followed the retirement of
the Archbishop of Toulouse, who, by bold plans feebly executed, had
provoked a resistance, which he ought either not to have excited or to
have overcome. And on quitting office he left the exchequer in dis-
tress — the payment of the rentes of the Hotel de Ville suspended — all
the authorities in hostility — all the provinces in arms. As for himself,
possessing an income of eight hundred thousand francs from bene-
fices, the archbishopric of Sens, and a cardinal's hat, if he did not
make the public fortune, he at least made his own. By his last piece
of advice he recommended to the King to recal Necker to the ministry
of the finances, that he might fortify himself with his popularity
against oppositions which had become unconquerable.
It was during the two years 1737 and 1788 that the French were
desirous to pass from vain theories to practice. The struggle between
the highest authorities excited the wish, and furnished the occasion, to
do so. During the whole course of the century, the parliament had
attacked the clergy, and exposed its ultramontane predilections. Af-
ter the clergy, it had attacked the court, condemned its abuses of pow-
er, and denounced its extravagance. Threatened with reprisals, and
attacked, in its turn, in its existence, it had at length just restored to
the nation prerogatives which the court would have wrested from it
for the purpose of transferring them to an extraordinary tribunal.
After having thus apprized the nation of its rights, it had exerted its
energies in exciting and protecting insurrection. On the other hand,
the high clergy in delivering their charges, the nobility in fomenting
the disobedience of the troops, had joined their efforts to those of the
magistracy, and summoned the people to arms in behalf of their pri-
vileges.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 27
The court, pressed by these various enemies, had made but a feeble
resistance. Aware of the necessity of acting, yet always deferring
the moment for doing so, it had at times abolisliod some abuses, ratii-
er for the benefit of the exchequer than of tiie |)eoijle, and then sank
again into inactivity. At length, finding itself attacked on all sides,
observing that the higher orders were calling the people into the lists,
it resolved to introduce them there itself by convoking the States-
General. Hostile during the whole of the century to the philosophic
spirit, it now appealed to the latter, and submitted the constitutions of
the kingdom to its investigation. Thus the first authorities of tiie
state exhibited the singular spectacle of usurpers disputing the pos-
session of an object before the face of the riglitful owner, and at last
even calling upon him to act as judge between them.
Sucli was the state of affairs when Necker returned to the ministry.
Confidence followed him; credit was instantly restored ; the most ur-
gent difficulties were removed. He provided, by means of expedients,
fi)r indis|)ensable expenses, till the meeting of the States-General, the
remedy that was universally calhul for.
The great questions relative to their organization began to be dis-
cussed. It was asked what part the ficrs-etat would have to act there;
whether it would appear as an etpuil or a supplicant ; whether it
would obtain a representation equal in number to that of the tv.'o
higher orders ; whether the discussions would be carried on by indivi-
duals or by orders ; and whether the tiers would not have merely a sin-
gle voice against the two voices of the nobility and clergy.
The first question discussed was that relative to the number of the
deputies. Never had philosophic controversy of the eighteenth century
excited such agitation. People's minds became warmed by the positive
importance of the question. A keen, concise, energetic writer, took,
in this discussion, that place which the greatest geniuses of the age
had occupied in the ])liilosophical discussions. The Abbe Sieyes, in a
book which gave a powerful impulse to the public mind, asked this
question : " What is the tiers-etat V And he answered : " Nothing."
— " What ought it to be"?" — " Every thing."*
The states of Dauphine assembled in spite of the court. The two
higher orders, more adroit and more popular in that country than any
where else, decided that the representation of the third estate should be
* " Bonaparte said to me one day, ' That fool Sieyes is as credulous a-i a Cassan-
dra.' In the intercourse, not very frequent cert.iinly, wliirli I had with hiin, he
appeared to he far beneith the reputation which he had acquiri'd. [le reposed a
blind confidence in a multitude of agents, wlioni he had sent into all parts of France.
Sieyes had written in iiis countenance, ' Give me money.' I recollect that I one day
alluded to this expression in the anxious face of Sieyes to the first consul. ' You
are right.' observed he to me, smiling, ' when money is in question. Sieyes is quite u
matter-of-fact man. He sends his ideology to the right about, asid thus becomes
easily manageable. He readily abandons his coiistitutinnal dreams for a good round
s.um, and tlint is very convenient.' i\I. do Tidleyrand, who is so capable ofestimating
men, and whose admirable saviiiijs well deserve to occupy a place in history, had
lonu entertained ati iudilVerent opinion of Sieyes. One day, wheti he wasconversing
with the second consul concerning him, Cambacercs said : ' Sieyes, however, is a
very profound man.' 'Profound!' said Talleyrand, 'yes, he is a cavity, a perfect
cavity, as you would,say.' " — BourritnnKS Memoirs of Napoleon. E.
28 HISTORY OF THE
equal to that of the nobiUty and the clergy. The parliament of Paris,
foreseeing already the consequence of its improvident provocations,
perceived plainly that the tiers-^tat was not coming in as auxiliary,
but as master ; and, in registering the edict of convocation, it enjoined,
as an express clause, the maintenance of the forms of 1614, which
reduced the third order to a mei'e cipher. Having already rendered
itself unpopular by the difficulties which it had thrown in the way of
the edict that restored civil rights to Prostestants, it was on that day
completely unmasked, and the court fully revenged. It was the first
to experience the instability of popular favour ; but, if at a later pe-
riod the nation might appear ungrateful towards chiefs whom it forsook
one after another, on this occasion it had good reason to turn its back
on the parliament, for that body stopped short before the nation had
recovered any of its rights.
The court not daring to decide these important questions itself, oi
rather desirous of depriving the two higher orders of their popularity
for its own benefit, asked their opinion, with the intention of not adopt-
ing it, if, as it was probable, that opinion should be unfavourable to the
tiers-etat. It summoned therefore a new Assembly of Notables, in
which all the questions relative to the holding of States-General were
brought forward. The discussions were warm : on the one hand,
great stress was laid on ancient traditions ; on the other, on natural
rights and reason. Even in going back to traditions, the cause of the
tiers-etat still had the advantage ; for, in opposition to the forms of
1614 demanded by the higher orders, forms yet more ancient were
adduced. Thus, in certain assemblies, and on certain points, the
members had voted individually ; sometimes they had deliberated by
provinces, not by orders ; frequently the deputies of the tiers had
equalled in number the deputies of the nobility and clergy. Why
then refer to ancient usages ] Had not the powers of the state been
in a continual revolution 1 The royal authority, at first sovereign, then
vanquished and despoiled, raising itself again with the aid of the
people, and again uniting all the powers in its own hands, exhibited
a perpetual conflict and an ever-changing position. The clergy
were told, that if they were to take ancient times for their standard,
they would cease to be an order ; the nobles, that the possessors of fiefs
only were qualified to be elected, and that thus most of them would be
excluded from the deputation ; the parliaments themselves, that they
were but unfaithful officers of royalty ; lastly, all were assured that
the French constitution had been but one lonjj revolution, durinff
which each power had successively predominated ; that every thing
had been innovation, and that amid this vast conflict it was for reason
alone to decide.
The tiers-etat comprehended nearly the Avhole nation, all the use-
ful, industrious, enlightened classes. If it possessed but a portion of
the lands, at least it wrought them all ; and according to reason, it
was not too much to allow to it a number of deputies equal to that of
the two other orders.
The Assembly of Notables declared itself against what was called
the doubling of the third estate. One of the government offices, that
»
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 29
over which Monsieur, the king's brother, presided, voted for this
doubhng.* The court, then, taking, as it said, into consideration the
opinion of tlie minority, the sentiments expressed by several princes of
the blood, the wishes of the three orders of Dauphine, the demand of
the provincial assemblies, the example of several countries of the king-
dom, the opinion of various public writers, and the recommendations
contained in a great number of addresses — tlie court ordained, that the
total number of the deputies should be at least a thousand ; that it
should be formed in a ratio composed of the population and the amount
of taxes paid by each haillage, and that the number of the deputies of
the ticrs-etat should be equal to that of the other two orders united.
This declaration excited universal enthusiasm. As it was attributed
to Necker, it raised him in the favour of the nation, and gained him
the increased enmity of the great.! Still it decided nothing as to the
vote by individuals or by orders, but it included it by implication ;
for it was useless to augment the number of votes if they were not to
be counted ; and it left the tiers-ctnt to seize by main force what was
refused to it at the moment. It therefore conveyed an idea of the weak-
ness of the court, and of Necker himself. That court included an
assemblage of inclinations which rendered any decisive result impos-
sible. The King was moderate, equitable, studious, and too distrust-
ful of his own abilities ; loving the people, and readily listening to
their complaints. He was nevertheless seized at times wi.h su-
perstitious terrors, and fancied that he beheld anarchy and impiety
marching hand in hand with liberty and toleration. The pliilosophic
spirit in its first flights could not but commit extravagances, and a timid
and religious king could not help being alarmed at them. Overcome,
at every step, by weakness, terror, and uncertainty, the unfortunate
Louis XVI. resolved for his own part to make every sacrifice. Not
knowing how to impose such conduct on others, the victim of his in-
dulgence for the court, of his condescension to the Queen, he expiated
all the faults which he had not committed, but which became his own
because he winked at their commission. The Queen, engrossed by
pleasure^ dazzling all around her by her charms, was desirous that
her husband should enjoy trancjuillity, that th(! exchequer should be
full, that the court and her subjects should adore her.f Sometimes
" "This resolution was carried by tlic single casting vote of Monsieur, who was
afterwards Louis XVIIL When it was reported to Louis XVL, he observed, ' Let
them add mine, I give it willingly.' " — Lahaiane. E.
t " The concessions of Necker were those of a man ignorant of the first principles
of the govenuucut of mankind. It was he who overturned the monarchy, and
brouffht Louis XVL to the scalVold. Marat, Danton, liobespierre himself, did less
mischief to France. Necker was the author of .ill the evils which desolated France
during the Revolution; all the blood that was shed rests on his head." — Bourricntie's
Memoirs of Napoleon. E.
X Madame le IJrun, tlie celebrated painter, in her 3Ic7nnirs, written by herself, draw.s
the following pictiu'e of this princess:
" It was in the year 1770 that I painted for the first time the portrait of the Queen,
then in the tlower of her youth and beautv. Marie Antoinette was ta. I ,.quisitely
well made, sulliciently pliuup without being ton iiiurh so. Her arms v.-i i superb,
her hands small, perfect iifform. and her feet charming. Her gait wa* Tve grace-
ful than that of any woman in France ; she held her head very errtt, Witn a majesty
30 HISTORY OF THE
she concurred Avith the King for the purpose of effecthig reforms,
when the necessity for them appeared urgent. At others, on the con-
trary, when she conceived the supreme authority to be threatened, and
her court friends despoiled, she stopped the King, removed the popu-
lar ministers, and destroyed at once the means and hopes of improve-
ment. She yielded more especially to the influence of a portion of
the nobility who lived around the throne, fattening on favours and
abuses. This court nobility was solicitous, no doubt, like the Queen
herself, that the King should have wherewithal to supply a lavish pro-
fusion ; and from this motive it was inimical to the parliaments when
they refused taxes, but became their ally when they defended its pri-
vileges, by refusing, under specious pretexts, the territorial impost.
Amidst these contrary influences, the King, not daring to face difficul-
ties, to condemn abuses, or to suppress them authoritatively, gave way
by turns to the court and to public opinion, without satisfying either.
If, during the course of the eighteenth century, when the philoso-
phers, assembled in an alley of the Tuilerics, wished success to Fre-
derick and the Americans, to Turgot and Necker — if, when they did
not yet aspire to govern the state, but merely to enlighten princes, and
foresaw at most the distant revolutions which the signs of disquietude
and the absurdity of existing institutions fully authorized them to ex-
pect — if the king had spontaneously established some equality in the
official appointments, and given some guarantees, all discontent would
have been appeased for a longtime, and Louis XVI. would have been
as much adored as was Marcus Aurelius.* But when all the autho-
rities had been debased by along struggle, and all the abuses unveiled
by an Assembly of Notables; when the nation, called into the quar-
rel, had conceived the hope and the will to be something, that will be-
vvliich eiKibled you to distinguish tlie sovereign amidst all her court, and yet that
majesty did not in the le.'ist detract from the extreme kindness and Ijenevohence of her
look. In short, it is extremely dithcult to convey to any one who has not seen the
Q,ueen, any idea of all the graces and all the tlignity that were combined in her. Her
features were not regular; she derived from her family that long, narrow oval, pe-
culiar to the Austrian nation. Her eyes were not large ; their colour was nearly blue,
and they had an intellectual and mild expression; her nose was thin and handsome,
her month not too large, though the lips were rather thick. But tiie most remark-
able thing about her face was the brilliancy of her complexion. I never saw any so
brilliant — yes, brilliant is the word — for her skin was so transparent that it took no
shade. Hence I never could render its effect so as to please myself; I lacked colours
to represent that freshness, those delicate tones, which belonged exclusively to that
fjiscinating fice, and which I never observed in any other woman. As for her con-
versation, it would be dilficult for me to descril)e all its grace, all its benevolence. I
do not tliiid< that the Queen Marie Antoinette ever missed an occasion to say an agree-
able thing to those who had the honour to approach her. During the tirst silting
that I had of her majesty on her return from Fontainebkau, I ventured to remark to
the (incen how much the erectness of her head heightened the dignity of her look.
She answered, in a tone of pleasantry, ' If I were not a Queen, people would say
that I have an insolent look — would they not?' " E.
* " The life of Marcus Aurelius was the noblest commentary on the precepts of
Zeno. He was severe to himself, indidgent to the imperfection of olhers, just and
beneficent to all mankind. War he detested, as the disgrace and calamity of hmnan
nature. His menn)ry was revered by a grateful posterity, and, above a century after
his death, many persons jireserved his image among those of their household gods."
Gibbon's Rome. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 51
came imperative. The States-General was promised to the nation ; it
demanded that an early time sliould be fixedfortheir convocation; when
that time was near at hand, it insisted on tlie preponderance in them :
this was refused, but, in the doubling of the representation, it was fur-
nisiied with the means of conquering that preponderance. Thus the
government never yielded but partially, and when it could no longer
resist; but then the strength of the nation had increased, it was
aware of its power, and required all that it conceived itself capable of
accomplishing. A continual resistance, irritating its ambition, must
soon have the effect of rendering it insatiable. But even then, if a
great minister, communicating somewhat of energy to the Kmg, con-
ciliating the Queen, bridling the privileged classes, had anticipated
and satisfied at once the national expectations by giving of his own
accord a free constitution ; if he had gratified the impulse to act
which the nation then felt, by summoning it immediately, not to re-
form the state, but to discuss its annual interests in a ready constituted
state — perhaps the conflict would not have taken place. But it would
have been absolutely necessary to meet the dilficulty instead of giv-
ing way to it, and above all to sacrifice nmiierous pretensions. It
would have required a man of strong conviction, and possessing a re-
solution equal to his conviction ; and this man, no doubt, bold, ener-
getic, perhaps passionate, would have alarmed the court, which desir-
ed no such person. In order to spare at one and the same time the
public opinion and the old interests, the king had recourse to half
measures. He selected, as we have seen, a half-philosophic, half-ener-
getic minister, and who possessed immense popularity, because, at that
time, demi-popular intentions in an agent of power surpassed all
hopes, and excited the enthusiasm of a people, whom the demagogue
spirit of its leaders was very soon afterwards incapable of satisfying.
,_^^Men's minds were in a universal ferment. Assemblies were form-
ed throughout France, like those of England, and called by the same
name, that of clubs. Nothino- was discussed in them but the abuses
to be abolished, the reforms to be effected, and the constitution to be
established. A rigid inquiry into the state of the country produced
irritation. Its state, political and economical, was in truth intolera-
ble. There was nothing but privileges belonging to individuals, clas-
ses, towns, provinces, and to trades themselves ; nothing but shackles
upon the industry and genius of man. Civil, ecclesiastical, and mili-
tary dignities, were exclusively reserved for certain classes, and in
those classes for certain individuals. A man could not embrace a pro-
fession unless, upon certain titles and certain pecuniary conditions.
The towns possessed their privileges for the apportioning the assess-
ment, and the levying of taxes, and for the choice of magistrates.
The very pensions converted by the survivors into family properties,
scarcely allowed the monarch to show any preferences. He had
nothing left to his disposal but a few pecuniary gifts, and he had even
been obliged to quarrel with the Duke de Coigny about the abolition
of a useless place.* All was therefore monopolized by a few hands,
. *• See Bouillis's M^moires.
32 HISTORY OF THE
and the burdens bore upon a single class. The nobility and the cler-
gy possessed nearly two thirds of the landed property. The other
third, belonging to the people, paid taxes to the king, a multitude
of feudal dues to the nobility, the tithe to the clergy, and was, more-
over, liable to the devastations of noble spoi'tsmen and their game.
The taxes on consumption weighed heavily on the great mass, and
consequently on the people. The mode in which they were levied
was vexatious : the gentry might be in arrear with impunity ; the peo-
ple, on the other hand, ill treated and imprisoned, were doomed to
suffer in body in default of goods. It subsisted, therefore, by the
sweat of the brow ; it defended with its blood the upper classes of so-
ciety, without being able to subsist itself. The bourgeoisie, industri-
ous, enlightened, less miserable certainly than the peasantry, but en-
riching the kingdom by its industry, reflecting lustre upon it by its
talents, obtained none of the advantages to which it had a right.
Justice, administered in some of the provinces by the gentry, in the
royal jurisdictions by magistrates who purchased their offices, was
slow, frequently partial, always ruinous, and particularly atrocious in
crimijial cases. Individual liberty was violated by lettres de cachet,
and the liberty of the press by the royal censors. Lastly, the state,
ill-defended abroad, betrayed by the mistresses of Louis XV., com-
promised by the weakness of the ministers of Louis XVI., had recent-
ly been dishonoured in Europe by the disgraceful sacrifice of Holland
and Poland.
The popular masses began already to put themselves in motion ;
disturbances had several times broken out during the struggle of the
parliaments, and especially on the retirement of the Archbishop of
Toulouse. That minister had been burned in effigy ; the armed force
had been insulted, and even attacked ; the magistracy had been back-
ward in prosecuting the rioters, who supported their cause. The pub-
lic mind, agitated by these events, full of the confused idea of a speedy
revolution, was in a continual ferment. The parliaments and the
higher orders already saw the arms which they had given to the peo-
ple directed against themselves. In Bretagne, the nobility had op-
posed the doubling of the third estate, and had refused to elect depu-
ties ; the bourgeoisie, who had so powerfully served against the court,
then turned against them, and sanguinary conflicts ensued. The
court, conceiving itself not sufficiently revenged on the Breton nobi-
lity,* refused them its aid, and, on the contrary, imprisoned some of
their number who came to Paris for the purpose of remonstrating.
The elements themselves seemed to be let loose. A hailstorm, on
the 13th of July, had made havoc among the crops, and was likely to
increase the difficulty of supplying Paris, especially amidst the troubles
that were preparing. All the activity of commerce was scarcely suffi-
cient to collect the quantity of provisions necessary for that great capi-
tal ; and it might naturally be expected that it would soon be very
difficult to subsist it, when confidence should be shaken and the com-
munications interrupted by political disturbances. Ever since the
* See Bouille's Memoires.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 33
cruel winter which had succeeded the disasters of Louis XIV., and
immortahzed the charity of Fenelon, so severe a season had not been
known as that of 1788-1789. The beneficence which was then dis-
played in the most affecting manner was not sufficient to alleviate the
wretchedness of the people. A great number of vagabonds, without
profession and without resources, thronged from all parts of France,
and paraded their indigence and their nakedness from Versailles to
Paris. At the slightest rumour, they eagerly came forward to profit
by chances, which are always favourable to those who have every
thing to gain, even to the subsistence for the passing day.*
Thus every thing concurred to produce a revolution. An en-
tire century had contributed to unveil abuses, and to carry them to
excess ; two years to stir up insurrection and to exasperate the popu-
lar masses by making them interfere in the quarrel of the privileged
orders. In short, natural disasters, and a fortuitous concurrence of
various circumstances, brought on the catastrophe, the epoch of which
might have been deferred, but which was sure to happen sooner or
later.
It was amidst these circumstances that the elections took place.
They were tumultuous in some provinces, active every where, and
very quiet in Paris, where great unanimity prevailed. Lists were dis-
tributed, and people strove to promote concord and a good understand-
ing. Tradesmen, lawyers, literary men, astonished to find themselves
assembled together for the first time, raised themselves up by degrees to
liberty. In Paris, they reappointed themselves the bureaux formed by
the King, and, witliout changing the persons, asserted their power by
confirming them. The learned Bailly quitted his retreat at Ciiaillot :
a stranger to intrigues, and deeply impressed with his noble mission,
he proceeded alone and on foot to the assembly. He paused by the
way on the terrace of the Feuillans. A young man, whom he did not
know, respectfully accosted him. " You will be returned," said he.
" I cannot tell," replied Bailly ; " that honour ought neither to be so-
licited nor refused." The modest academician resumed his walk,
repaired to the assembly, and was chosen successively elect«)r and
deputy.
The election of the Count de Mirabeau was stormy ; rejected by the
nobility, supported by the tiers-itat, he agitated Provence, his native
country, and it was not long before he showed himself at Versailles.
The court had no wish to influence the elections. It was not dis-
pleased to see a great number o? cures returned, reckoning upon their
opposition to the high ecclesiastical dignitaries, and at the same time
* "The charity of Fenelon, which immortalized the disastrous epoch of Louis
XIV., was now equalled by the humane beneficence of the clergy of Paris : but all
their efforts could not keep pace with the inunense mass of indigence, which wa?
swelled by the conlliience of dissolute aud ahaiuloued cliaiacters from every part of
France. These wretches assembled round the throne, hke the sea-birds round the
wreck, which are the harbingers of death to the siidvuig mariner, and iiiready appear-
ed in fearfid numbers in the streets o)i occasion of tbi; slightest tunnilt. They were
all in a state of destitution, and for the most part owed their life to the charity of the
ecclesiastics, whom they afterwards massacred in cold blood in the prison of Carraes."
— Alisoii's French Revolution. F..
VOL. I. — 5 r 2
^4 HISTORY OF THE
upon their respect for tlie throne. It is true that it did not foresee all that
was to happen ; and in the deputies of the tiers it perceived rather ad-
versaries to the nobihty than to itself. The Duke of Orleans was ac-
cused of taking active steps to procure the nomination of himself and
his partisans. Already numbered among the enemies of the court,
the ally of the parliaments, and called for as leader, with or without
his consent, by the popular party, he was accused of various underhand
practices. A deplorable scene took place in the Fauxbourg St. An-
toine, and, as people are fond of giving an author to all events, it was
laid to his charge. Reveillon, a manufacturer of stained paper, who
had an extensive manufactory, improving our industry and furnishing
employment to three hundred workmen, was accused of an intention
to reduce their wages to one half. The populace threatened to burn his
house. Means were found to disperse them, but they returned on the
following day ; thehouse was broken into, set on fire, and destroyed.
Notwithstanding the threats held outon the first day by the assailants,
notwithstanding the meeting agreed upon for the second, the authorities
were very late before they began to act, and then they acted with extreme
severity. They waited till the people had made themselves masters of the
house, they then attacked them with fury, and were obliged to slaughter
a great number of those ferocious and intrepid men, who afterwards
showed themselves on all occasions, and received the name of brigands.
All the parties which were already formed accused each other ; the
court was reproached with its first tardy and afterwards cruel proceed-
ings; it was supposed that it wished to leave the people time to act
that it might make an example and exercise its troops.
The money found on the destroyers of Reveillon's house, and the
expressions that dropped from some of them, led to the conjecture that
they were urged on by a secret hand. The enemies of the popular
party accused the Duke of Orleans of a wish to try his revolutionary
bands.
That prince had been endowed with excellent qualities. He had
inherited immense wealth ; but, addicting himself to dissolute habits,
he had abused all these gifts of nature and of fortune. Without consis-
tency of character, alternately regardless of public opinion and greedy
of popularity, he was bold and ambitious one day, docile and absent
on tlie morrow. Havingquarrelled with the Queen, he had become an
enemy to the court. When parties began to form themselves, he had suf-
fered his name to be employed, and it is said, his wealth also. Flattered
with the vague prospect before him, he was active enough to draw ac-
cusation on himself, though not to ensuix success ; and his partisans,
if they entertained any serious plans, must have been driven to despair
by his inconstant ambition.
The moment of the convocation at length arrived. In this common
danger, the higher orders, creeping close to the court, had grouped
themselves around the princes of the blood and the Queen. They
strove by flattery to gain the country gentlemen, and in their absence
they ridiculed their clownishness. The clergy endeavoured to gain
over the plebeians of its order, and the military noblesse those belong-
ing to the same class with itself. The parliaments, which had expect-
•>t
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 'ii>
edto play the principal part in the States-General, began to apprehend
that their ambition had miscalculated. The deputies of the tiers-ctat,
strong in the superiority of their talents, in the energetic eloquence of
their speeches, encouraged by continual intercommunication, nay,
spurred on by the doul)ts which many had conceived respecting the
success of their eflbrts, had taken the firm resolution not to yield.
The Kinf alone, who had not enjoyed a moment's repose since the
commencement of his reign, regarded the States-General as the ter-
mination of his embarrassments. Jealous of his authority, rather for
the sake of his children, to whom he deemed it his duty to transmit
this patrimony entire, than for his own, he was not displeased to restore
a portion of it to the nation, and to throw upon it the difficulties of the
government. Accordingly, it was with joy that he made preparations
for this grand assemblage. A hall had been hastily got ready ; the
costumes were determined upon, and a humiliating badge had been
imposed on the tiers-Hat. Men are not less jealous of their dignity
than of their rights: with a very just pride, the instructions forbade the
deputies to condescend to any degrading ceremonial. This new fault
of the court originated, like many others, in the desire to preserve at
least the symbols when the realities had ceased to exist. It could not
but produce a deep irritation at a moment when, before attacking, the
parties began to measure one another with their eyes.
On the 4th of May, the day of the opening, a solemn procession
took place. The King, the three orders, all the great dignitaries of
the state, repaired to the church of Notre-Dame. The court had dis-
played extraordinary magnificence. The two higher orders were splen-
didly dressed. Princes, dukes and peers, gentlemen, prelates, were
clad in purple, and wore hats with plumes of feathei's. The deputies
of the tiers-etat, covered with plain black cloaks, came next ; and,
notwithstanding their modest exterior, they seemed strong in their
number and their prospects. It was remarked that the Duke of Or-
leans, placed in the rear of the nobility, chose rather to lag behind,
and to mingle with the foremost deputies of the third estate.
This national, military, and religious pomp — those pious chants —
those martial instruments — and, above all, the importance of the event
— deeply moved all hearts. The discourse delivered by the Bishop of
Nanci, full of generous sentiments, was enthusiastically applauded,
notwithstanding the sacredness of the place and the presence of the
Ring. Great assemblages elevate us. They detach us from ourselves
and attach us to others. A general intoxication was diffused, and all
at once many a heart felt its animosities subside, and became filled for
a moment with humanity and patriotism.*
* I should not quote the following passage from the M6moircs of Fcrrieres, if base
detractors had not ventured to carp at every thing in the scenes of the French Revo-
lution. The passage which I am about to extract will enable the reader to judge of
the effect produced upon the least plebeian hearts by the national solemnities of this
grand epoch.
" I yiyld to the pleasure of recording here the impression made upon me by this
august and touching ceremony; I shall transcribe the account of it which I then
wrote down, whilst still full of what I had felt. If this passage is not historical, it
will perhaps have a birouger interest for some readers.
36 HISTORY OF THE
The opening of the States-General took place on the following day.
May, 5 1789. The King was seated on an elevated throne, the
Queen beside him, the court in stalls, the two higher orders on both
sides, the tiers-etat at the farther end of the hall, and on lower seats.
" The nobility in black coats, the other garments of cloth of gold, silk cloak, laco
cravat, plumed hat turned up a /« Henri IV. ; the clergy in surplice, wide mantle, square
cap : the bishops in their purple robes, with their rochets ; the tiers dressed in black,
with silk mantle, and cambric cravat. Tiie King placed himself on a platform richly
decorated; Monsieur, the Count d' Artois, the princes, the ministers, the great offi-
cers of the crown, were seated below the King; the Queen placed herself opposite
to the King; Madame, the Countess d' Artois, the princesses, the ladies of the
court, superbly dressed and covered with diamonds, composed a magnificent retinue
for her. The streets were hung with tapestry belonging to tlie crown; the regi-
ments of the French and Swiss guards formed a line from Notre-Dame to St. Louis;
an immense concourse of people looked on. as we passed, in respectful silence; the
balconies were adorned with costly stuffs, the windows filled with spectators of all
ages, of both sexes, lovely women elegantly attired : every face bespoke kindly emo-
tion, every eye sparkled with joy; clapping of hands, expressions of the wannest
interest, the looks that met us and that still followed after we were out of sight
. . . . rapturous, enchanting scene, to which I should vainly strive to do jus-
tice ! Bands of music, placed at intervals, rent the air with melodious sounds ; mi-
litary marches, the rolling of drums, the clang of trumpets, the noble chants of the
priests, alternately heard, without discordance, without confusion, enlivened this tri-
umphal procession to the temple of the Almighty.
" Plunffed into the most delicious ecstacy, sublime but melancholy thoughts soon
presented themselves to my mind. I beheld that France, my country, supported by
Religion, saying to us. Desist from your puerile quarrels ; this is the decisive moment
which shall either give me new life or annihilate me for ever! Love of country,
thou spakest to my heart ! .... What ! shall a handful of ambitious madmen,
base intriguers, seek by tortuous ways to disunite my country ? — shall they found their
destructive systems on insidious advantages? — shall they say to thee, Thou hast two
interests ; and all thy glory and all thy power, of which thy neighbours are so jealous,
shall vanish like a light smoke driven by the southern blast? No, I swear to thee,
that my parched tongue shall cleave to my palate, if ever I fo^-get thy grandeurs and
thy solemnities.
•' What splendour this religious display shed over that wholly human pomp ! With-
out thee, venerable Religion, it would have been but an empty parade of pride; but
thoupurifiest and sanctifiest, thou heightenest grandeur itself; the kings, the mighty
of the age, they too, by at least a show of reverence, pay homage to the King of
kings Yes, to God alone belong honour, empire, glory ! Those
sacred ceremonies, those hymns, those priests clothed in the dress of sacrifice, those
perfumes, that canopy, that sun resplendent with gold and jewels I
called to mind the words of the prophet: ' Daughters of Jerusalem, your Kingconi-
eth ; put on your nuptial robes, and hasten to meet him.' Tears of joy trickled from
ray eyes. My God, my country, my fellow-citizens, had become identified with
myself.
'• On their arrival at St. Louis, the three orders seated themselves on benches placed
in the nave. Tlie King and Queen took their places beneath a canopy of purple
velvet, sprinkled with golden fleurs-de-lis; the princes, the princesses, the great
nthcers oi' the crown, and the ladies of the palace, occupied the space reserved tor
their majesties. The host was carried to the altar to the sound of the most impressive
music. It was an salutaris Hustia .'' This natural, but true and melodious vocal
performance, unencumbered by the din of instruments which drown the expression;
this mass of voices, rising in well-regulated accord to heaven, convinced me that the
simple is always beautiful, always grand, always sublime Men are
idiots, in their vain wisdom, to treat as puerile the worship that is paid to the Ai-
mi'^hty. With what indifference do they view that moral chain which binds man to
God, which renders him visible to the eye, sensible to the touch! .... M. de
la Fare, Bishop of IS'anci, delivered the discourse. Religion constitutes the strength
of empires ; religion constitutes the prosperity of nations. This truth, which no
wise man ever doubted for a single moment, was not the important question to be
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 37
A movement arose at the sight of the Count de Mirabeau ; but his
look, his step, awed the assembly.* The tiers-etat remained covered
like the other orders, notwithstanding the estabhshed custom. The
King dehvcrcd an address, in which he recommended disinterested-
ness to some, prudence to others, and professed to all his love for his
people. Barentin, the keeper of the seals, then spoke, and was follow-
ed hy Necker, who read a memorial on the state of the kingdom, in
which he treated at great length of the finances, admitted a deficit of
fifty-six millions, and wearied by his prolixity those whom he did not
offend by his lessons.
On the next day, the deputies of each order were directed to
the place allotted to them. Besides the common hall, which was
sufficiently spacious to hold the three orders united, two other halls
had been erected for the nobility and the clergy. The common hall
was assigned to the tiers ; and it thus had the advantage, whilst in its
own place of meeting, of being in that of the States. The first busi-
ness was the verification of the powers of the members. It became
treated in the august assembly ; the place, the circumstance, opened a wider field :
the Bishop of Nanci durst not, or could not, traverse it.
" On the following day, the deputies met in the hall of the Menus. The assembly
wasneither less imposing, nor the sight less magnificent, than the preceding day." —
M6moircs du Marquis de Ferricres, tom. i.
* " E.xcluded from the rank to which his birth entitled him, Mirabeau determined
to recover it at any price. He vowed vengeance against his eneuiies, and with this
bitterness of feehng did Mirabeau take his seat in the asseuibly of the States-General.
As he entered the hall, he cast a threatening glance on the ranks which he was not al-
lowed to approach. A bitter smile played on his lips, which were habitually contracted
by an ironical and scornful expression. Ho proceeded across the hall, and seated
himself on those benches from which he was to hurl the thunderbolts which shook
the throne. A gentleman strongly attached to the court, but likewise a friend of
Mirabeau, who had observed the rancorous look which he darted round him when
he took his seat, entered into couversation with him, and pointed out to him tliat his
peculiar position in the world closed against him the door of every saloon in P;irJs.
' Consider,' said he, ' that society, when once wounded, is not easily conciliated, if
you wish to be pardoned, you must ask pardon.' Mirabeau listened with impa-
tience, but when his friend used the word 'pardon,' he couldcontain himself no long-
er, but started up and stamped with violence on the floor. His bushy hair seemed to
stand on end, his little piercing eyes flashed fire, and his lips turned pale and quiver-
ed. This was always the way with Mirabeau when he was strongly excited. ' I am
come hither,' cried he, in a voice of thunder, ' to be asked, not to ask pardon.' "' —
Memoirs of the Duchess d' Abrantcs. E.
" Hardly any of the deputies had hitherto acquired great popular reputation. One
alone attracted general attention. Born of noble parents, he had warmly espoused
the popular side, without losing the pride of aristocratic connexion. His talents
universally known, and his integrity generally suspected, rendered him the object of
painful anxiety; harsh and tlisagreeable features, a profusion of black hair, and acom-
manding air, attracted the curiosity even of those who were unactjuainted with his
reputation. His name was Miuabeau, future leader of the Assemiily ! Two ladies
of rank, from a gallery, with very diflVrent feelings, beheld the spectacle. The one
was Madame de Montmorin, wife of the minister of foreign afl'airs ; the other, the
illustrious daughter of M. Necker, Madame de Staiil. The latter exulted in the
boundless prospect of national felicity which seemed to be opening under the auspi-
ces of her father. ' You are wrong to rejoice,' s%id Madame de Montmorin: ' this
event forebodes nmch misery to France and to ourselves.' Her presentiment turned
out too well founded ; shii herselfperished on thescatfold with one of her sons ; ano-
ther was drowned ; her hushuid was massacred in lln' prisons on September'Jd ;
her eldest daughter was cut o(V in goal ; her vonngest died of a broken heart before
she had attained th^ge ol" thirty years. '' — Afisan's Frencli Revolution. E.
4 '^ -i b '^
38 HISTORY OF THE
a question whether this should take place in common or by separate
orders. The deputies of the tiers, alleging that it was of importance
to each portion of the States-General to satisfy itself of the legitimacy
of the two others, insisted on the verification in common. 'J'he nobi-
lity and the clergy, desirous of keeping up the division of orders,
maintained that each ought to constitute itself apart. This question
had nothing to do with that of individual votes, for they might verify
their powers in common and afterwards vote separately, but it neai-ly
resembled it ; and on the very first day it produced a division, whicli
it was easy to foresee, and which might have been as easily prevented
by putting an end to the dispute beforehand. But the court never had
the courage either to deny or to grant what was just, and, besides, it
hoped to reign by dividing.
The deputies of the tiers-ctat remained assembled in the general
hall, abstaining from any measure, and waiting, as they said, to be
joined by their colleagues. The nobility and the clergy, retiring to
their respective halls, proceeded to deliberate on the verification. The
clergy voted the separate verification by a majority of 133 to 114, and
the nobility by a majority of 188 to 114. The tiers-etat persisting in
its inaction, pursued, on the morrow, the same course as on the pre-
ceding day. It made a point of avoiding any measure which could
cause it to be considered as constituting a separate order. For this
reason, in sending a deputation of its members to the other two cham-
bers, it abstained from giving them any express mission. These
members were sent to the nobility and clergy to inform them that the
tiers-etat was waiting for them in the common hall. The nobility
were not sitting at the moment ; the clergy were assembled, and offer-
ed to appoint commissioners to settle the differences that had arisen.
They actually appointed them, and invited the nobility to do the same.
In this contest, the clergy manifested a very different spirit from the
nobility. Among all the privileged classes, it had suffei'ed most from
the attacks of the eighteenth century. Its political existence had been
disputed ; it was divided, owing to the great number of its cures ; be-
sides, its professional character was that of moderation and the spirit of
peace. Accordingly, as we have just seen, it offered a sort of xiiediation.
The nobility, on the contrary, declined it, by refusing to appoint
commissioners. Less prudent than the clergy, more confident in its
rights, conceiving itself not bound to moderation but to valour, it vent-
ed itself in refusals and threats. These men, who never excused any
passion in others, gave the reins to all their own passions, and, like
all assemblies, they yielded to the domination of the most violent
spirits. Casalfes and d'Espremenil, recently ennobled, made the most
indiscreet motions, and, after preparing them in a private meeting,
pi-ocured their adoption in general assembly. In vain did a minority,
composed of men more prudent or more prudently ambitious, strive
to enlighten these nobles. They would not listen to any thing. They
talked of fighting and dying, and they added, for the laws and jus-
tice. The tiers-etat, immoveable, endured with patience every insult.
Though irritated, it was silent, conducted itself with the prudence and
firmness of all powers which are commencing their career, and receiv-
1
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 39
ed the applause of tlie tribunes, orioinally destined for the court, but
soon taken possession of by tlie pubUc.
Several days had already elapsed : the clergy had laid snares for
the tiers-etat hy inciting it to certain acts which would have given it
the character of a constituted order. It had, however, constantly re-
fused to comply ; and, taking only indispensable measures of internal
police, it had confined itself to the election of a dean and assistants
for the purpose of collecting opinions. It refused to open the letters
addressed to it, and it declared that it formed not an order, but a meet-
ing of citizens assembled by a legitimate authority to icait for other
citizens.
The nobility, after refusing to appoint conciliatory commissioners,
at length consented to send deputies to arrange matters with the other
orders. But their mission was rendered useless, since it charged them at
tiie same time to declare that it persisted in its decision of the Gth of
May, which enjoined the separate verification. The clergy, on the con-
trary, adhering to its part, had suspended the verification which it had
at first commenced in its own chamber, and declared itself not consti-
tuted, awaiting the conferences of the conciliatory commissioners.
The conferences were opened: the clergy was silent ; the deputies of
the commons argued their point with calmness, those of the nobility
with warmth. Both parties returned soured by the dispute; and the
tiers-ttat, determined not to give way, was doubtless not displeased to
learn that all compromise was impossible. The nobility was assured
every day by its commissioners that they had the advantage, and this
served to heighten its exaltation. By a transient gleam of prudence,
the first two orders declared that they renounced their pecuniary privi-
leges. The tiers-ctat accepted the concession, but persisted in its re-
fusal to proceed to business, still requiring the common verification.
The conferences yet continued, when it was at length proposed, by
way of accommodating the matter, that the powers should be verified
by commissioners chosen from the three orders. The deputies of the
nobility declared in its name its dissent from this arrangement, and re-
tired without appointing any new conference. Thus the negociation
wns broken off. The same day the nobility passed a resolution, by
which it declared anew that for this session the verification should
take place separately, and that it should be left for the States to deter-
mine upon some other mode in future.
Nv This resolution was communicated to the commons on the 27th of
May. They had been assembled ever since the 5th ; twenty-two days
had consequently elapsed, during which nothing had been done. It
was high time to come to a determination. Mirabeau, who gave the
impidse to the popular party,* observed that it was time to decide upon
* " Iloiiore Gabriel Riinietti. Cotnte Ac Mirabeau, was born in 1749. Youthful
impetuosity and ungoveriied passions ukuIo tlie early part of his life a scene of dis-
order and misery. After basing been some time in the army, be married ;\Iade-
moiselie de Mariiruane, a rich heiress in the eity of Aix; but the union was not for-
tunate, and his extravajjant expense.s deransrinj; bis all'airs, he eontracted debts to the
lunoiint of 300,01)0 livres, in consequence of which his father obtained from the
Cli:Uelet an act of liuiacy against him. l^nraged at this, he went to settle^it Manosquo ;
40 HISTORY OF THE
something, and to commence their lahours for the public welfare,
which had been too long delayed. He proposed, therefore, in conse-
sequence of the resolution passed by the nobility, to send a message
to the clergy, in order to obtain an immediate explanation from it, and
whence he was, on account of a private quarrel, some time afterwards removed, and
shut up in the castle of If; he was then conveyed to that of Joux, in Tranche Comte,
and obtained permission to go occasionally to Pontarlier, where he met Sophia de
RufFey, Marchioness of Monmir, wife of a president in the parliament of Besanoon.
Her wit and beauty inspired Mirabeau with a most violent passion, and he soon es-
caped to Holland with her, but was for this outrage condemned to lose his head,
and would probably have ended his days far from his country, had not an agent of
police seized him in 1777, and carried him to the castle of Vincennes, where he re-
mained till December, 1780, when he recovered his liberty. The French revolution
soon presented a vast field for his activity ; and, being rejected at the time of the elec-
tions by the nobility of Provence, he hired a warehouse, put up this inscription,
" Mirabeau, woollen-draper," and was elected deputy from the tiers-etat of Aix ;
from that time the court of Versailles, to whom he was beginning to be formidable,
called him the Plebeian Count. On the day when the States opened, he looked at
the monarch, who was covered with the crown jewels, and said to those near him, " Be-
hold the victim already adorned !" He soon took possession of the tribune, and there
discussed the most important matters in the organization of society. He had never
at that time conceived the possibility of establishing a democracy in so immense a
state as France. His motive for seeking popularity was solely that he might regulate
a court which he caused to tremble, but the court committed the fault of not seeking
to seduce his ambition. He then connected himself with the Duke of Orleans, from
whom he obtained certain sums that he wanted; butsoon perceiving that it was impos-
sible to make any thing of suchaclod, he broke off the intimacy in October, 1789. If he
was not one of the principal causes of the events which took place on the 5th and 6th
of that month, the words he made use of before and during that time, give reason
to suppose he was no stranger to them. The next day he made the King new over-
tures, and repeated them shortly after, but they were invariably rejected ; and he then
considered how he should, by new blows, compel the sovereign and his council to
have recourse to him. Not, however, till the end of the session did this take place ;
and then, by the intervention of Madame de Mercy and M. de Montmorin, his debts
were paid, and a pension was granted him. From that time he devoted himself to
strengthening the monarchy, and addressed to the King a statement on the causes of
the revolution, and the methods of putting a stop to it. It may be doubted whether
he could have succeeded in this undertaking ; but it is now certain, that, at the moment
of his sudden death, he was busied in a project for dissolving an assembly which he
could no longer direct. On the Kith of January, 1791, he was appointed a member
of the department of Paris, and on the 31st, president of the National Assembly.
This being the period of his closest connexion with the court, he wished as president
to acquire new celebrity, and show himself capable of directing the assembly ; a de-
sign which he executed with a degree of address admired even by his enemies. On
the 28th of March he was taken ill, and died on the 2d of April, at half-past eight in
the morning, aged forty-two. So short an illness excited a suspicion at first that he
had been poisoned, and all parties mutually accused each other of the crime; but
when his body was opened, there appeared, as the physicians asserted, no marks of
violence. When on his death-bed, he said openly to his friends, ' I shall carry the
monarchy with me, and a few factious spirits will share what is left.' At the mo-
ment of his death he retained all his fortitude and self-possession ; on the very morn-
ing, he wrote these words : " It is not so difficult to die ;" and at the instant when
his eyes were closing, he wrote, " to sleep." His loss seemed to be considered as a pub-
lic calamity, and it is remarkal)le that all parties believing him to be in their interests,
joined in regretting him. His obsequies were celebrated with great pomp ; all the
theatres were shut; tiic deputies, the ministers, the members of all the autiioritative
assemblies, formed a procession which extended above a league, and which was
four hours marching; and his body was placed in the Pantheon beside that of Des-
cartes. In Noveml)er. 1793. his ashes were, by order of the Convention, removed
thence, and scattered abroad by the people, who at the same time burned his bust in
I
^mmaiM^
'm.JiiE^mmj^^
Piib.i.-^iici; D\- L'.ucViV llaa-l.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 41
to ascertain whether it would orwould notmeetthe commons. The pro-
posal was immediately adopted. Target, the deputy, proceeded at the
head of a numerous deputation, to the hall of the clergy. " The gentle-
men of the commons," said he, " invite the gentlemen of the clergy, i.v
TUE NAME OF THE GOD OF PEACE, and for the national interest, to meet
them in the hall of the assembly, to consult upon the means of effecting
the concord so necessary at this moment for the public welfare." The
clergy was struck with these solemn words. A great number of its mem-
bers answered them witli acclamations, and would have instantly com-
plied with this invitation, had they not been prevented ; and the reply
given to the deputies of the commons was, that it would deliberate on
the subject. On the return of the deputation, the inexorable tiers-etat
determined to await, without breaking up, the answer of the clergy.
As this answer did not arrive, a message was sent that the commons
were waiting for it. The clergy complained of being iiurried, and
requested to be allowed the necessary time. The ticrs-ctat replied
with moderation, that the clergy might take its own time, and that the
commons would wait, if requisite, the whole day and the whole night.
The situation was difficult. The clergy knew that after its answer
the commons would fall to work, and adopt a decisive course. It
wished to temporize, in order to concert with the court. It re-
quired time till the following day, which was granted with regret.
Next day, the King resolved, in accordance with the wishes of the
higher orders, to interfere. At this moment, all the animosities be-
tween the court and the higher orders began to be forgotten, at the
sight of that popular power which rose with such rapidity. The King
at length appeared, and invited the three orders to resume their confer-
ences in the presence of his keeper of the seals. The tiers-itat, not-
withstanding all that has been said of its projects, upon judgments
formed after the events, did not extend its wishes beyond moderate
monarchy. Knowing the intentions of Louis XVI., it was full of res-
pect for him : and, unwilling to injure its cause by any wrong step,
it replied that, out of deference to the King, it consented to renew the
conferences, though, inconsequence of the declaration of the nobility,
it could not but consider them as useless. To this reply it annexed
the Place de Grove, as an enemy to the republic, and one who had corresponded
with the royal family. Thus did .Mirabeau verily what he had himself said, ' tiiat the
Capitol was close to the Tarpeian rock, and that the same people who flattered him
would have had equal pleasure in seeing him hanged.' Mirabeau was of middle
stature; his face was cfisfigured by the marks of the smallpox; and the enormous
quantity of hair on his head gave him some resemblance to a lion. He was of a lofty
character, and had talents which were extraordinary, and some which were sublime ;
his felicity of diction was unrivalled, and his knowledge of the human heart profound ;
but he was essentially a despot, and, had he governed an empire, he would have sur-
passed Richelieu in pride, and Mazarin in policy. Naturally violent, the least resist-
ance inflamed him ; when he appeared most irritated, his expression had most elo-
quence; and being a consummate actor, his voice and gestures lent a new interest to
all he said. His chief passion was pride ; and tliough his love of intrigue was un-
bounded, it can be ascribed only to liis pecuniary necessities. In the last year of
his life he paid immense debts, bought estates, furniture, the valuable library of Burton,
and lived in a splendid style."— From the article "Mirabkao," in the B'wgraphu-
Moderne. E.
VOL. I. — 6 , 2
42 HISTORY OF THE
an address, which it charged its dean to deliver to the prince. This
dean was Bailly, a simple and virtuous man, an illustrious and modest
cultivator of the sciences, who had heen suddenly transported from the
quiet studies of his closet into the midst of civil broils. Elected to
the presidency over a great assembly, he had been alarmed at his new
office, had deemed himself unworthy to fill it, and undertaken it solely
from a sense of duty. But, raised all at once to liberty, he found
within him an tmexpected presence of mind and firmness. Amid so
many conflicts, he caused the majesty of the assembly to be respect-
ed, and represented it with all the dignity of virtue and of reason.
Bailly had the greatest difficulty to penetrate to the King. As he
insisted on being introduced, the courtiers reported that he had not
even paid respect to grief of the monarch, affiicted by the t'eath of
the dauphin. He was at length presented, contrived to avoid every
humiliating ceremonial, and displayed equal firmness and respect.
The King received him graciously, but without entering into any ex-
planation of his intentions.
The government, having decided on making some sacrifices to ob-
tain money, designed, by opposing the orders, to become their umpire,
to wrest from the nobility its pecuniary privileges with the assistance
of the tiers-etat, and to check the ambition of the latter by means of
the nobility. As for the nobility, having no need to concern itself about
the embarrassments of the administration, caring only for the sacrifi-
ces which were likely to be wrung from it, it hoped to bring about a
dissolution of the States-General, and thus to frustrate the object of
their convocation. The commons, Avhom the court and the higher
oi'ders would not recognize by that title, were incessantly acquiring
fresh strength, and, being resolved to brave all dangers, were anxious
not to let slip an opportunity which might never recur.
The conferences demanded Viy the King took place. The commis-
sioners of the nobility raised all sorts of difficulties about the title of
commons which the tiers-etat had assumed, and about the form and
signature of the minutes (proct' s-verbal). At length they entered upon
discussion, and they were almost reduced to silence by the reasons
urged against them, Avhen Necker, in the name of the King, proposed
a new mode of conciliation. Each order was to examine the powers
separately, and to communicate them to the others. In case difficul-
ties should arise, commissionersshouldreportupon them to each cham-
ber, and if the decision of the different orders disagreed, the King was
to judge definitively. Thus the court would settle the dispute to its
own advantage. The conferences were immediately suspended to
obtain the adhesion of the orders. The clergy accepted the plan
purely and simply. The nobility at first received it favourably ; but,
urged by its usual instigators, it rejected the advice of its most discreet
members, and modified the project of conciliation. From that day
must be dated all its disasters.
The commons, apprized of this resolution, waited till it should be
communicated to them in order to explain themselves in their turn ;
but the clergy, with its ordinary cunning, desirous of bringing them into
bad odour with the nation, sent them a deputation to invite them to
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 43
take into consideration, along with it, the distress of the people, whicli
M'as daily increasing, that they might lose no time in providing toge-
ther against the dearth and high price of provisions. The commons,
who would have exposed themselves to the popular odium if tliey had
appeared indifferent to such a proposal, opposed craft with craft, and
replied that, deeply impressed with the same duties, they awaited the
clerjfy in the great hall, in order to deliberate with it on this important
subject. The nobility then arrived, and solemnly communicated its
resolution to the commons. It adopted, it said, the plan of concilia-
tion, persisting, however, in the separate verification, and referring to
tile united orders, and to the supreme jurisdiction of the King, sucli
difficulties only as might arise respecting the entire deputations of a
whole province.
Tiiis resolution put an end to all the embarrassments of the coi^.i-
nions. Obliged either to yield or to declare war single-handed against
the higher orders and the throne, if the plan of conciliation had been
adopted, they were relieved from the necessity of explanation, as the
piaii had been accepted only with important alterations. The moment
was decisive. To give way on the separate verification was not, in-
deed, giving way on the vote by order ; but to betray weakness once
was to be weak for ever. They must submit to act nearly the part of
a cipher, give money to power, be content with the abolition of a (isw
abuses, when they saw the possibility of regenerating the state, or
take a strong resolution, and seize by force a portion of the legislative
power. This was the first revolutionary act, but the assembly did not
hesitate. In consequence, all the minutes (proci's vcrbaux) being
siifUf^l, and the conferences finished, Mirabeau rose : " Any jilan of
conciliation rejected by one party," said he, " can no longer be exam-
ined by the other. A month is past ; it is time to take a decisive step :
a deputy of Paris has an important motion to make — let us hear him."
Mirabeau, having opened the deliberation by his audacity, introduced
to the tribune Sieyes, a man of a comprehensive mind, systematic and
rigorous in his deductions. Sieyes in a few words recapitulated and
explained the motives of the conduct of the commons. They had
waited and had acceded to all the conciliations proposed ; their long
condescension was unavailing ; they could delay no longer without
failing in their duty ; they ought consequently to send a last invita-
tion to the other two orders, to join them for the purpose of commen-
cing the verification. This proposition, based on sufficient motives,*
* I think it right to state hore the motives on wliich the assembly of the commons
founded the resolmion which it was about to take. This first act, which commu nces the
revolution, being ofhigh importance, it is essentia! to justify the necessity for it, and I
think tliis cannot be done better, than by the considerations which preceded the reso-
hition (rtrre<^) of the commons. These considerations, as well as the arrt'it! itself
belong to the Abbe Sieyes.
'• The assembly of the commons deliberating on the overture of conciliation pro-
posed by the commissioners of the King, has deemed it incumbent on it to take at the
same time into consideration the resolution {arrclt) which the nobility have hastened
to adopt respecting the same overture.
" It has seen that the nobility, notwithstanding the acquiescence at lirst professed,
soon introduced a modification which retrjcts it almost entirely, and that consequent-
44 HISTORY OF THE
was received with enthusiasm ; it was even in contemplation to sum-
mon tlie orders to attend within an hour. The period, however, was
prorogued. The following day, Thursday, being devoted to religious
solemnities, it was postponed till Friday. On Friday, the last invitation
was communicated. The two orders replied that they woidd consider
of it, and the King that he would make known his intentions. The
call of the haillages began : on the first day, three cures attended and
were hailed with applause ; on the second, six arrived ; and on the
third and fourth ten, among whom was the abbe Gregoire.
During the call of the baillages and the verification of the powers, a
serious dispute arose concerning the title which the assembly was to
assume. Mirabeau proposed that of Representatives of the French
ly their resolution {arrtti) on this subject cannot be considered as any other tiian a
positive refusal.
" From this consideration, and because the nobility have not desisted from their
preceding deliberations, in opposition to every plan of reunion, the depuiies of the
commons conceive that it has become absolutely useless to bestow any further alteu-
tion on an expedient which can no longer be called concihatory, since it has been
rejected by one of the parties to be conciliated.
" In this state of things, which replaces the deputies of the commons in their origin-
al position, the assembly judges that it can no longer wait inactive for the privileged
classes without sinning against the nation, which has doubtless a right to require a
better use of its time.
" It is of opinion that it is an urgent duty for the representatives of the nation, to
whatever class of citizens they belong, to form themselves, without further delay, into
an active assembly, capable of commencing and fulfilling the object of their mission.
" The assembly directs the commissioners who attended the various conferences,
called conciliatory, to draw up a report of the long and vain efforts of the deputies of
liie commons to bring back the classes of the privileged to true principles; it takes
upon itself the exposition of the motives which oblige it to pass from a state of ex-
pectation to a state of action; finally, it resolves, that this report and these motives
shall be printed at the head of the present deliberation.
•' But, since it is not possible to form themselvesinto an active assembly, without pre-
viously recognising those who have a right to compose it, — that is to say, those who are
qualified to vote as representatives of the nation, — the same deputies of the conmious
deem it their duty to make a last trial with the clergy and the nobility, who claim the
same quality, but have nevertheless refused up to the present moment to make them-
selves recognised.
•• Moreover, the assembly, having an interest in certifying the refusal of tliese two
classes of deputies, in case they should persist in their determination to remain un-
known, deems it indispensable to send a last invitation, which shall be conveyed to
them by deputies charged to read it before them, and to leave them a copy of it in
the following terms :
'■ ' Gentlemen, we are commissioned by the deputies of the commons of France
to apprize you that they can no longer delay the fulfilment of the obligation imposed
on all the representatives of the nation. It is assuredly time that those who claim
this quality should make themselves known by a common verification of their powers,
and begin at length to attend to the national interest, which alone, and to the exclu-
sion of all private interests, presents itself as the grand aim to which all the deputies
ought to tend by one general effort. In consequence, and from the necessity whicli
the representatives of the nation are under to proceed to business, the deputies of the
commons entreat you anew, gentlemen, and their duty enjoins them to address to
you, as well individually as collectively, a last summons to come to the hall of the
states, to attend, concur in, and submit, like themselves, to the common verification
of powers. We are at the same time directed to inform you. that the general call of
all the hailliages convoked will take place in an hour, that the assembly will imme-
diately proceed to the verification, and that such as do not appear will be declared
defaulters.' "
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 45
People ; Mounier that o? Deliberative Majority in the absence of the
Minority ; Legrand that o^ National Assembly. This last was adopt-
ed, after a very long discussion, which lasted till the night of the 16th
of June. It was one o'clock in the morning, and it became a question
whether the assembly should constitute itself before it broke up, or
should defer that business till the following day. One portion of the
deputies wished that not a moment should be lost, that they might ac-
quire a legal character which should command the respect of the
court. A small number, wishing to impede the operations of the as*
sembly, became extremely violent and uttered furious cries. The two
parties, ranged on the two sides of a long table, reciprocally threaten-
ed each other. Bailly, placed at the centre, was called upon by the
one to adjourn the assembly, by the other to put the motion for
constituting themselves to the vote. Unshaken amidst shouts and
abuse, he continued for more than an hour motionless and silent. The
weather was tempestuous; the wind blew with violence into the hall,
and added to the tumult. At length the brawlers withdrew. Bailly,
then addressing the assembly, which had recovered its tranquillity on
the retirement of those by whom it had been disturbed, recommended
it to defer till daylight the important act which was proposed. His ad-
vice was adopted, and the assembly broke up, applauding his firmness
and prudence.
Accordingly, on the 17th, the proposition was taken into considera-
tion, and, by a majority of 491 votes against 90, the commons consti-
tuted themselves the National Assembly. Sieyes, again charged to
report the motives of this determination, did it with his accustomed
precision.
" The assembly, deliberating after the verification of the powers,
ascertain that it is already composed of representatives sent directly by
ninety-six hundredths, at least, of the nation. Such a mass of deputa-
tion could not remain inactive on account of the deputies of certain
baillages, or of certain classes of citizens ; for the absent loko have
been called, cannot prevent the present from exercising the plenitude
of their rights, especially when the exercise of those rights is an urgent,
an imperative duty.
" Moreover, as it belongs only to the verified representatives to con-
cur in the national will, and as all the verified representatives are to be
admitted into this assembly, it is further indispensable to conclude that
it l)cIongs to it, and to it alone, to interpret and to represent the gene-
ral will of the nation.
" There cannot exist any veto, any negative power, between the
throne and the assembly.
" The assembly therefore declares that the general labour of the na-
tional restoration can and ought to be begun by the deputies present,
and that they ought to prosecute it without interruption and without
impediment.
" The denomination of National Assembly is the only one suitable
to the assembly in the present state of things, as well because the
members who compose it are the only representatives legitimately and
publicly known and verified, as because thev are sent bv nearly the
46 H [STORY OF THE
whole of the nation ; and, lastly, because, the representation being one
and indivisible, none of the deputies, for whatever order or class he
has been elected, has a right to exercise those functions separately
from this assembly.
" The assembly •will never relinquish the hope of collecting in its
bosom all the deputies that are now absent ; it will not cease to call
them to fulfil the obligation imposed upon them to concur in the hold-
ing of the States-General. At whatever moment the absent deputies
pi"esent themselves during the session that is about to be opened, it
declares beforehand, that it will be ready to receive them, and to share
with them, after the verification of their powers, the series of important
labours which are to accomplish the regeneration of France."
Immediately after passing this resolution (arr(:,tc), the assembly,
desiring at once to perform an act of its power, and to prove that it had
no intention to impede the course of the administration, legalized the
levy of the taxes, though imposed without the national consent. With
a presentiment of its separation, it added that they should cease to be
levied from the day on which it should be broken up ; foreseeing,
moreover, a bankruptcy, the expedient left to power for putting an end
to the financial embarrassments, and dispensing with the national con-
currence, it satisfied prudence and honour by placing the creditors of
the state under the safeguard of French integrity. Lastly, it announced
that it should immediately direct its attention to the causes of the
dearth and of the public distress.
These measures, which displayed equal courage and ability, pro-
duced a deep impression. The court and the higher orders were alarm-
ed at such courage and energy. IMeanwhile, the clergy was tumul-
tuously deliberating whether it should join the commons. The multi-
tude awaited outside the hall the result of its deliberation ; the cures
at length carried the point, and it was learnt that the union had been
voted by a majority of 149 votes to 115. Those who had voted for
the junction were received with transports of applause ; the others
were abused and insulted by the populace.
This moment was destined to bring about a reconciliation between
the court and the aristocracy. The danger was equal for both. The
last revolution was as prejudical to the King as to the two higher or-
ders themselves, whom the commons declared that they could dispense
with. Tile aristocracy immediately threw itself at the feet of the Ring.
The Duke of Luxembourg, the Cardinal de Larochefoucauld, the
Archbishop of Paris, implored him to repress the audacity of the
tiers-ctat, and to support their rights, which were attacked. The
parliament proposed to him to do without the States, promising to
assent to all tlie taxes. The King was surrounded by the princes and
the Queen ; this Avas more than was requisite for his weakness : they
hurried him off to Marly in order to extort from him a vigorous
measure.
Necker, the minister, attached to the popular cause, confined himself
to useless remonstrances, which the King thought just when his mind
was left free, but the effect of which the court soon took good care to
destroy. As soon as he perceived the necessity for the interference of
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 47
the royal authority, he formed a plan which, to his courage, appeared
very bold. He proposed that tlie monarch, in a royal sittinnf, slioiild
command the union of the orders, but only for measures of general
interest ; that he should assume to himself the sanction of all resolu-
tions adopted by the States-General ; that he should condemn before-
hand every institution hostile to moderate monarchy, such as that of
a single assembly ; lastly, that he should promise the abolition of pri-
vileges, the equal admission of all Frenchmen to civil and mihtary ap-
pointments, &c. As Necker had not had the energy to outstrip time
for such a plan, so likewise he had not sufficient to ensure its exe-
cution.
The council had followed the King to Marly. There decker's
plan, at first approved, was subjected to discussion ; all at once a
note was delivered to the King ; the council was suspended, resumed,
and adjourned till the following day, in spite of the necessity for the
utmost despatch. On the morrow, fresh members were added to the
council ; the King's brothers were of the number. Necker's plan
was modified ; he resisted, made some concessions, but finding him-
self vanquished, returned to Versailles. A page came three times
bringing him notes containing new modifications ; his plan was wholly
disfigured, and the royal sitting was fixed for the 22d of June.
Itwas as yet but the 20th, and already the hall of the States was
shut up, under the pretext that preparations were requisite for the
presence of the King. These preparations might have been made in
half a day ; but the clergy had deliberated the day before upon join-
ing the commons, and it was desirable to prevent this junction. An
order from the King instantly adjourned the sittings till the 22cl.
Bailly, conceiving that he was bound to obey the assembly, which, on
Friday, the 19th, had adjourned to the next day, Saturday, repaired
to the door of the hall. It was surrounded by soldiers of the French
guard, who had orders to refuse admittance to every one. The offi-
cer on duty received Bailly with respect, and allowed him access to a
court for the purpose of drawing up a protest. Some young hot-
headed deputies would have forced their way through the sentries ;
liailly hastened to the spot, appeased them, and took them with him,
that the generous officer, who executed the orders of authority with
such moderation, might not be compromised. The deputies collected
tumultuously ; they persisted in assembling ; some proposed to hold
a sitting under the very windows of the King, others proposed the
Tennis-Court. To the latter they instantly repaired ; the master
cheerfully gave it up to them.
The hall was spacious, but the walls were dark and bare. There
were no seats. An arm-chair was offered to the president, who re-
fused it, and chose rather to stand with the assembly ; a bench served
for a desk : two deputies were stationed at the door as door-keepers,
and were soon relieved by the keeper of the place, who came and
offered his services. The populace thronged around, and the delibe-
ration commenced. Complaints were raised on all sides against this
suspension of the sittings, and various expedients were proposed to
prevent it in future. The agitation increased, and the extreme parties
48 ^ HISTORY OF THE
began to work upon the imaginations of their liearers. It was
proposed to repair to Paris : this motion, hailed with enthusiasm, was
warmly supported ; and they began to talk of proceeding thither in a
body and on foot. Bailly was apprehensive that violence might be
offered to the assembly by the way : dreading, moreover, a rupture,
he opposed the scheme. Mounier then proposed to the deputies to
l)ind themselves by oath not to separate before the establishment
of a constitution. This proposal was received with transport ; the
form of the oath was soon agreed upon. Bailly claimed the honour of
being the first to take it, and read the form, which was as follows : —
" You take a solemn oath never to separate, and to assemble where-
ever circumstances shall require, till the constitution of the kingdom
is established and founded on a solid basis." This form, pronounced
in a loud and intelligible voice, was heard outside the building. All
lips instantly repeated the oath ; all hands were outstretched towards
Bailly, who, standing and motionless, received this solemn engage-
ment to ensure by laws the exercise of the national rights. The
crowd instantly raised loud shouts of Vive V Assemblec ! vive le Roi !
as if to prove that, without any feeling of anger or animosity, but
from duty, it reclaimed what was its due. The deputies then pro-
ceeded to sign the declaration which they had just made. One only,
Mai-tin d'Auch, added to his name the word opposer. A great tumult
took place around him. Bailly, in order to be heard, mounted upon
a table, addressed the deputy Avith moderation, and represented to
him that he had a right to refuse his signature, but not to form an op-
position. The deputy persisted ; and the assembly, out of respect
for its liberty, allowed the word to stand, and to be inserted in the
minutes.
This new act of energy excited the apprehensions of the nobility,
who went on the following day to lay their lamentations at the King's
feet, to excuse themselves in some measure for the restrictions which
they had introduced into the plan of conciliation, and to solicit his
assistance. The noble minority protested against this step, maintain-
ing with reason that it was no longer time to solicit the royal interfer-
ence, after having so unseasonably refused it. This minority, too
little attended to, was composed of forty-seven members, among
whom were enlightened military officers and magistrates — the Duke
de Liancourt, a generous friend to his King and to liberty ; the Duke
de la Rochefoucauld, distinguished for inflexible virtue and great abili-
ties ; Lally-Tollendal, already celebrated for his father's misfortunes
and his eloquent reclamations ; Clermont-Tonnerre, remarkable for
his eloquence ; the brothers Lameth, young colonels, known for their
intelligence and their bravery ; Duport, already noticed for his extra-
ordinary capacity and firmness of character ; and lastly, the Marquis
de La Fayette, the defender of American freedom, and combining
with French vivacity the perseverance and the simplicity of Wash-
ington.
Intrigues retarded all the operations of the court. The sitting, at
first fixed for Monday the 22d, was postponed till the 23d, A note
written very late to Bailly, and at the termination of the great council
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 49
acquainted him with this postponement, and proved the agitatioii
which pervaded all minds. Necker had resolved not to attend the
sitting-, that he might not sanction by his presence plans which he
disapproved.
Petty means, the ordinary resource of a feeble authority, were em-
ployed to prevent the meeting of Monday the 22d. The princes
hired the Tennis-Court for the purpose of playing on that day. 'J'he
asseml)ly repaired to the church of St. Louis, where it received the
majority of the clergy, with the Archbishop of Vienne at its head.
This junction, marked by the utmost dignity, excited the greatest joy.
The clergy came, it was said, to submit to the common verification.
The following day, the 23d, was that fixed for the royal sitting.
The deputies of the commons were to enter by a side door, a differ-
ent one from that reserved for the nobility and clergy. If violence
could not be employed, they were not spared humiliations. The}
waited a long time exposed to the rain : the president was obliged to
knock at the door; it was not opened. He knocked repeatedly,
and Avas told it was not yet time. The deputies were about to
retire, when Bailly again knocked. The door was at length opened ;
the deputies entered, and found the two higher orders in possession of
their seats, which they had been desirous to secure by occupying them
beforehand. The sitting was not, like that of the 5th of May, at once
majestic and touching, from a certain eff"usion of sentiments and Iiopes.
A numerous soldiery, a sullen silence, distinguished it from the former
solemnity. The deputies of the commons had resolved to keep the
most profound silence. The King addressed the assembly, and be-
trayed his weakness by using expressions far too energetic for his cha-
racter. He was made to launch reproaches, and to issue commands.
He enjoined the separation into orders ; annulled the preceding reso-
lutions (^arretes) of the tiers-etat, promising to sanction the abdication
of the pecuniary privileges when they should be relinquished by the
holders. He maintained all the feudal rights, both useful and hono-
rary, as inviolable property. He did not order the meeting of the
three estates on matters of general interest, but held out lH)])es of it
from the moderation of the higher orders. Thus he enforced the
obedience of the commons, and contented himself with presuming
that of the aristocracy. He left tlie nobility and clergy jiulges of
what specially concerned them, and concluded with saying, that if he
met with fresh obstacles he would singly establish the welfare of his
people, and that he considered himself as its sole representative. This
tone, this language, deeply incensed the minds of the connnons, not
against the Ring, who had feebly represented passions not his own,
but against the aristocracy, whose instrument he was.
As soon as he had finished this address, he ordered the assembly to
separate immediately. The nobility followed him, together with part
of the clergy. The majority of the ecclesiastical deputies remained ;
the depnties of the commons, without moving, preserved profound si-
lence. Mirabeau, who put himself forward on all occasions, then
rose. " Gentlemen," said he, " I admit that what you have just
heard might be the salvation of the country, if the gifts of despotism
VOL. I. — 7 ^ 3
60 HISTORY OF THE
were not always dangerous The ostentatious display of arm?,
the violation of the national temple ... to command you to be happy !
. . . Wliere are the enemies of the nation? Is Catiline at our doors'?
I demand that, covering yourselves with your dignity, your legislative
power, you adhere religiously to your oath : it forbids you to separate
before you have framed the constitution."
Tiie Marquis de Breze, grand-master of the ceremonies, then re-
turned. " You have heai-d the orders of the King," said he, address-
ing Tiailly. Bailly replied, " I am going to take those of the assem-
bly." Mirabeau stepped forward. " Yes, sir," he exclaimed, " we
have heard the intentions that have been suggested to the King ; but
you have neither voice, nor place, nor right to speak, here. How-
ever, to avoid all delay, go and tell your master that we are here by
the power of the people, and that nothing but the power of bayonets
shall drive us away." M. de Breze retired. Sieyes then said : " We
are to-day what we were yesterday ; let us deliberate." The assem-
bly collected itself to deliberate on the maintenance of its preceding
resolutions (arrefh). " The first of these resolutions," said Barnave,
" has declared what you are ; the second relates to the taxes, which
you alone have a right to grant ; the third is the oath to do your duty.
None of these measures needs the royal sanction. The King cannot
prevent that to which his assent is not required." At this moment
workmen arrived to take away the benches ; armed soldiers crossed
the hall ; others surrounded the outside ; the life-guard advanced to
the very door. The assembly continued its proceedings without in-
terruption ; the members kept their seats, and the votes were collected.
They were unanimous for upholding the preceding resolutions. That
was not all: amidst the royal town, surrounded by the servants of the
court, without the aid of that populace since so formidable, the as-
sembly was liable to be threatened. Mirabeau repaired to the tribune,
and proposed to decree the inviolability of every deputy. The assem-
bly, opposing to force but one majestic will, immediately declared
each of its members inviolable, and proclaimed everyone who should
offer tliem violence a traitor, infamous, and guilty of a capital crime.
Meanwhile, the nobility, who looked upon the state as saved by
this " bed of justice," presented its congratulations to the prince who
had furnished the idea of it, and carried them from the prince to the
Queen. The Queen, holding her son in her arms, and showing him
to these devoted servants, received their oaths, and unfortunately
abandoned herself to a blind confidence. At this very moment shouts
were heard : every one ran to inquire the meaning of them, and learned
that the people, assembling in crowds, were applauding Necker be-
cause he had not attended the royal sitting. Alarm instantly took the
place of joy ; the King and Queen sent for Necker, and those august
personages were obliged to entreat him to retain his portfolio. The
minister complied, and transferred to the court a part of that popu-
larity which he had acquired by absenting himself from that fatal
sitting.
Thus was effected the first Revolution. The tiers-itat had reco-
vered the legislative power, and its adversaries had lost it by attempt
f
FRENCH i:r. VOLUTION. 51
ing to keep it entirely to themselves. In a few days, this legislative
revolution was completely consummated. Recourse was still had to
petty annoyances, such as interruptiu"; the internal communications
in the halls of the States; but they were unsuccessful. On the 24th,
the majority of the clergy proceeded to the assembly, and demanded
the veritication in common, in order to deliberate afterwards on the
proposals made by t!ie King in the sitting of the 23d of June. The
minority of the clergy continued to deliberate in its own chamber.
.Tuiwne, Archbishop of Paris, a virtuous prelate and a benefactor of
the people, but a stickler for privileges, was pursued, and forced to
promise to join the assembly. He accordingly repaired to the Na-
tional Assembly, accompanied by the Archbishop of Bordeaux, a
popular prelate, who was afterwards minister.
The nobility was in a state of the greatest agitation. Its ordinary
instigators inflamed its passions : d'Espremenil proposed to prosecute
the tiers-6tat, and to direct proceedings to be instituted against it by
the attorney-general : the minority proposed the reunion. This mo-
tion was rejected amidst tumult. The Duke of Orleans supported the
motion, after having, on the preceding day, given a promise to the
contrary to the Polignacs. Forty-seven members, having determined
to join the general assembly, in spite of the decision of the majority,
repaired to it in a body, and were received with demonstrations of
public joy. But, notwithstanding the rejoicing caused by their pre-
sence, their looks were sad. " We yield to our conscience," said
Clermont-Tonnerre, " but it is with pain that we separate our-
selves from our colleagues. We have come to concur in the public
regeneration ; each of us will let you know the degree of activity
which his mission allows hira."
Every day brought fresh accessions, and the assembly saw the
number of its members increase. Addresses poured in from all parts,
expressing the good wishes and the approbation of the towns and
provinces. Mounier prompted those of Dauphine ; Paris sent one,
and even the Palais Royal despatched a deputation, which the assem-
bly, as yet encompassed with dangers, received, that it might not
alienate the multitude. At that time it did not foresee the excesses of
the populace ; it had need, on the contrary, to presume its energy, and
to hope for its support : many, however, doubted the courage of the
people, which was as yet but a pleasing dream. Thus the plaudits of
the tribunes, fi-equently annoying to the assembly, had nevertheless
supported it, and the assembly durst not prevent them. Bailly would
have complained, but his voice and his motion were drowned by
thundering applause.
The majority of the nobility continued its sittings, amidst tumult
and the most violent animosities. Terror seized those who directed
it, and the signal for reunion was made by those very persons who
had previously preached resistance. But its passions, already too
much excited, were not easily guided. The King was obliged to
write a letter ; the court, the grandees, were humbled to entreaties.
" The junction will be transient," it was said to the most obstinate;
" troops are approaching; give way to save the King." Consent was
52 HISTORY OF THE
extorted amidst uproar, and tlie majority of the nobility, accompanied
by the minority of the clergy, proceeded, on the 27th of June, to the
general assembly. The Duke of Luxembourg, speaking in the name
of all, said that they were come to pay a mark of respect to the King,
and to give a proof of patriotism to the nation. " The family is
complete," replied Bailly. Supposing that the assemblage was entire,
and that the question was not to verify but to deliberate in common,
he added : " We can now attend without intermission and without
distraction to the regeneration of the kingdom and of the public
weal."
Many petty artifices were still employed to avoid the appearance
of having done what necessity imperatively required. The new
comers always entered after the opening of the sittings, all in a body,
so as to give themselves the look of an order. They affected to stand
behind the president, or, at least, not to appear to sit. Bailly, with
great moderation and firmness, at length overcame all resistance, and
prevailed on them to be seated. Attempts were also made to displace
him from the presidency, not by main force, but sometimes by secret
negociation, at others by stratagem. Bailly retained it, not out of
ambition but out of duty ; and a plain citizen, known only by his
virtues and his talents, was seen presiding over all the grandees of
the kingdom and the church.
It was too evident that the legislative revolution was accomplished.
Though the subject of the first dispute was solely the mode of verifi-
cation, and not the manner of voting ; though some had declared
that they joined merely for the common verification, and others in
obedience to the royal intentions as expressed on the 23d of June;
it was certain that the voting by individuals had become inevitable :
all remonstrance therefore was useless and impolitic. The Cardinal
de Larochefoucauld, nevertheless, protested, in the name of the mi-
nority, and declared that he had joined solely to deliberate on general
subjects, still retaining the right to form an order. The Archbishop
of Vienne replied with warmth, that the minority had not had the
power to decide any thing in the absence of the majority of the clergy,
and that it had no right to speak in the name of the order. Mirabeau
inveighed strongly against this pretension, observing, that it was strange
any one should protest in the assembly against the assembly. " You
must," said he, " either recognize its sovereignty or retire."
The question of imperative instructions was next brought forward.
Most of the instructions expressed the wishes of the electors respect-
ing the reforms to be effected, and rendered these wishes obligatory
on the deputies. Before they stirred, it was necessary to ascertain to
what point they could go : this question, therefore, could not but be
the first. It was taken up, and resumed several times. Some were
for returning to their constituents ; others were of opinion that they
could not receive from the constituents any other mission than that
of voting for them after subjects should have been discussed by the
representatives of the whole nation, but they were not of opinion that
deputies could receive instructions ready made beforehand. If we
assume, in fact, that we have no power to make laws but in a general
I
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 53
council, either because we meet with more intelhgence the higher we
rise, or because we cannot come to any decision but when all the parts
of the nation have reciprocally understood one another, then, indeed,
it is true that the deputies ought to be free and unshackled by obliga-
tory instructions. Mirabeau, sharpening reasoning by irony, observed,
that " those who considered the instructions as impei'ative, had done
wrong to come ; they had but to leave instructions on their benches,
and those papers would fill their seats as well as they." Sieyes, with
his usual sagacity, foreseeing that, notwithstanding the perfectly just
decision of the assembly, a great number of members would fall back
upon their oaths, and that by taking refuge in their consciences they
would render themselves unassailable, moved the order of the day,
upon the groimd that each was the best judge of the validity of the
oath which he had taken. " Those," said he, " who deem them-
selves bound by their instructions, shall be considered as absent, just
the same as those who i*efused to verify their powers in general assem-
bly." This judicious opinion was adopted. The assembly, by having
recourse to constraint, would have furnished the opposers with pre-
texts ; whereas, by leaving them free, it was sure to bring them over
to its own way of thinking: for thenceforth its victory was certain.
The object of the new convocation was the reform of the state, that
is, the establishment of a constitution, which France as yet had not,
whatever may be said to the contrary. If any kind of relations
between the governed and the government are to be so called, then
indeed France possessed a constitution ; a king had commanded, and
subjects obeyed ; ministers had arbitrarily imprisoned ; contractors
had wrung the last denier from the people ; parliaments had sentenced
unfortunate wretches to the wheel. The most barbarous nations have
such kinds of constitutions. There had been States-General* in
France, but without precise powers, without fixed times for nieethig
again, and always without results. There had been a royal autho-
rity, alternately null or absolute. There had been sovereign tribu-
nals or courts, which frequently combined the legislative with the
judicial power. But there was no law to ensure the responsibility of
the agents of power, the liberty of the press, individual liberty ; in
short, all the guarantees which, in the social state, make amends for
the fiction of natural liberty .f
* Pliilippe le Bel was thu first French monarch who convoked tlie States-General,
in 1303. Jean le Bon, in 1:555, also called together tiie national assemblies, or " les
Champs de Mars;" and these assemblies have since that period always retained the
title of States-General. The clergy had as their president the Archbishop of Rlieims ;
Gaulhier de Brienne was cho.sen by the nobles; and Marcel, the Mayor of Faris,
was at the head of the iicrs-fAat.
1 1 snpport with notes and (ptotations only such passages asare susceptible of being
disputed. The question, whether we had a constitution, seems to me one of the
most important of the revolution ; for it is the absence of a fundamental law that justi-
fies our having determined to give ourselves one. On this poiiU. I think it impossi-
ble to quote an authority more respectal)le and h-ss suspicious than that of 31. Lally-
Tollendal. On the 15th of .lujy, 1789, that excellent citizen delivered a speech in the
chamber of the nobility, the greater part of which is subjoined.
" Long reproaches, tinctured moreover with considerable acrimony, have been
made, gentlemen, agalinst members of this assembly, who, with equal "pain and re-
serve, have e.\pressed doubts on what is called our" constitution. This subject has
54 HISTORY OF THE
The Avant of a constitution was acknowledged and generally felt :
all the instructions had energetically expressed it, and entered into a
formal explanation of the fundamental principles of that constitution.
They had unanimously prescribed the luonarcliical government, here-
not perhaps a very direct connexion with that at present under discussion ; but since
it has afforded ground for accusation, lei it also furnish one for defence ; and pern)it
nie to address a few words to the authors of these reproaches.
" You have assuredly no law which enacts that the States-General are an integral
part of the sovereignty, for you are demanding one; and, up to this day, sometimes
a decree of council forbade them to deliberate, at others a decree of parliament au-
nidled their deliberations.
" Vou have no law that fixes the periodical return of your States-General, for you
arc demanding one; and it is one hundred and seventy-five years since they were
assembled.
" You have no law to protect your individual safety and liberty from arbitrary at-
tacks, ibr you are demanding one; and, during the reign of a King whose justice is
known and whose probity is respected by all Europe, ministers have caused your
magistrates to be torn from the sanctuary of the laws by armed satellites. In the
preceding reign, all the magistrates in the kingdom were dragged from their seats.
lirom their Jiomes, and scattered by exile, some on the tops of mountains, others
in the slough of marshes, all in situations more obnoxious than the most horrible of
prisons. Go back still farther, and you will find a hundred thousand kttnsde caclict
issued on account of paltry theological squabbles; and farther still, and yon see as
many sanguinary commissions as arbitrary imprisonments; nay, you will find no
spot on which you can repose till you come to the reign of your good Henry.
'• You have no law which establishes the liberty of the press, for you are demand-
ing one ; and up to this time your thoughts have been enslaved, your wishes chained ;
the cry of your hearts under oppression has been stifled, sometimes by the despotism
of individuals, at others by the still more terrible despotism of bodies.
" You have not, or at least you no longer have, a law requiring your consent to
taxes, for you are demanding one ; and, for two centuries jmst, you have been bur-
dened with more than three or four hundred millions of taxes without having consent-
ed to a single one.
"You have no law which establishes the responsibility of all the ministers of the
executive power, for you are demanding one ; and the creators of those sanguinary
commissions, the issuers of those arbitrary orders, thedilapidators of the public exche-
quer, the violators of the sanctuary of public justice, those who have imposed upon
the virtues of one king, those who flattered the passions of another, those who
brought disasters upon the nation, have been called to no account — have undergone
110 punishment.
"Lastly, you have no general, positive, written law, no diploma at once royal and
national, no great charter, upon which rests a fixed and invariable order, from which
each learns how much of his liberty and property he ought to sacrifice for the sake
of preserving the rest, which ensures all rights, which defines all powers. On the
coiitrary, the system of your government has varied from reign to reign, frequently
from ministry to ministry ; it has depended on the age and the character of one man.
In minorities, under a weak prince, the royal authority, which is of importance to
the prosperity and the dignity of the nation, has been indecently degraded, either by
the creat, who with one hand shook the throne and with the other crushed the peo-
ple, or by bodies which at one time seized with temerity what at another they had
defended with courage. Under haughty princes who had flattered, under virtuous
princes who were deluded, this same authority has been carried beyond all bounds.
Your secondary powders, your intermediate powers, as you call them, have not been
either better defined or more fixed. .Sometimes the parliaments have laid it down
as a principle that they could not interfere in affairs of state ; at others, they have
insisted that it was their prerogative to discuss them as representatives of the nation.
On the one hand were seen proclamations making known the will of the king, on
the other decrees, in which the king's officers forbade, in the king's name, the execu-
tion of the king's orders. Among the courts the like discord prevails; they quarrel
about their origin, their functions ; they nmtually launch anathemas at each other by
their decrees.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 55
ditary succession from male to male, the exclusive attribution of the
executive power to the King, the responsibility of all agents, the con-
currence of the nation and the King in the making of laws, the voting
of the taxes, and individual liberty. But they were divided on the
creation of one or two legislative chambers, on the permanence, the
periods for the meeting, and the dissolution of the legislative body ; on
the political existence of the clergy and the parliaments ; on the ex-
tent of the liberty of the press. All these questions, either solved or
proposed in the instructions, plainly show to what a degree the pub-
lic mind was at that time awakened in all parts of the kingdom, and
how generally and decisively the wish for liberty was expressed in
France.* But the founding of an entire constitution amid the rubbish
" I set limits to these details, which I could extend ad infinitum, but if all these
are incontestable facts, if you have none of these laws which 1 liave just enumerated
and which you demand, or if, havini; them— and pay particular attention to this
point — if, having them, you have not that which enforces their execution, that which
guarantees their accomplishment and maintains their stability, explain to us what you
understand by the word constitution, and admit at least that some indulgence is due to
those who cannot help entertaining some doubts of the existence of ours. You are told
continually to rally round this constitution: let us rather lose sight of that phantom
to substitute a reality in its stead. And as for the term innovatimis, as for the appella-
tion of innovators, which is constantly levelled at us, let us admit that the tirst uino-
vatorsarein our hands, that the first innovators are our instructions; let us respect,
let us bless this happy innovation, which must put every thing in its place, which must
render all rights inviolalile, all the authorities beneficent, and all the subjects happy.
" It is this constitution, gentlemen, that I wish for; it is this constitution that is the
object for which we were sent hither, and which ought to be the aim of all our la-
bours I it is this constitution which is shocked at the mere idea of the address that is
proposed to us — an address which would compromise the King as well as the na-
tion — an address, in short, which appears to me so dangerous that not only will I
oppose it to the utmost, but that, were it possible it could be adopted, I should feel
myself reduced to the painful necessity of protesting solemnly against it."
* It may not be amiss to introduce here the summary of the instructions submitted
to the National Assembly by M. de Clernmnt-Tonnerre. It is a good sketch of the
state of opinions at this period, throughout France. In this point of view the sum
mary is extremely important; and, though Paris exercised an intlueiice upon the
drawing up of these instructions, it is not the less true that the provinces had the
greatest share in them.
Report of the Committee of Constitution, containing a Summary of the Instructions rela-
tive to this subject, read to the National Assembly by M. the Count de Clermont- Tuntierre,
in the silting of July 27, 1789.
" Gentlemen — You are called to regenerate the French empire : to lliis great
work yoif bring both your own wisdom and the wisdom of your constituents.
" We have thought it right first to collect and present to you the suggestions scat-
tered over the greater number of your instructions; we shall then submit to you
the particular views of your committee, and those which it has been, or shall be, en-
abled to collect from the different plans, and the ditl'ereiit observations, whicli have
been, or which shall be, communicated or transmitted to it by the members of this
august assembly.
'•It is of the first part of tliis labour, gentlemen, that we are about to render you
an account.
" Our constituents, gentlemen, are all agreed upon one point: they desire the re-
generation of the state; but some have expected it from the mere reform of abu-
ses, and from the re-establishment of a constitution existing for fourteen centuries
past, and which appeared to them capable of being yet revived, if the injuries which
It has suffered from time, and the numerous insurrections of private interest against
the public interest, were to be repaired.
" Others have considered the e.xisting social system as so faulty, that they have de-
56 HISTORY OF THE
of an ancient legislation, in spite of all opposition and the wild flights
of many minds, was a great and difficult work. Besides the disagree-
ments which diversity of interests could not fail to produce, the natu-
ral divergence of opinions was also to be dreaded. An entire legisla-
manded a new constitution, and that, with the exception of the monarchical govern-
ment and forms, which it is an innate feeling of every Frenchman to love and to
resjiect, and which they have ordered you to maintain, they have given to you all
the powers necessary for creating a constitution, and for founding the prosperity of
the French empire on sure principles, and on the distinction and regular constitu-
tion of all the powers. These latter, gentlemen, have thought that the first chapter
of the constitution ought to contain a declaration of the rights of man, of those im-
prescriptible rights for the maintenance of which society was established.
" The demand of this declaration of the rights of man, so constantly misconceived,
may be said to be the only difference that exists between the instructions which de-
sire a new constitution, and those which demand only the re-establishment of that
which they regard as the existing constitution.
" Both the one and the other have alike fixed their ideas upon the principles of
monarchical government, upon the existence of the power and the organization of the
legislative body, upon the necessity of the national assent to taxes, upon the organi-
zation of the administrative bodies, and upon the rights of the citizens.
" We shall advert, gentlemen, to these different subjects, and submit to you on
each, as decision, the uniform results, and, as questions, the differing or contradictory
results, presented by such of your instructions as it has been in our power to analyze,
or to procure the substance of.
" 1. The monarchical government, the inviolability of the sacred person of the king,
and the hereditary descent of the crown from male to male, are alike acknowledged
and sanctioned by the great majority of the instructions, and are not called in ques-
tion by any.
" 2. The king is, in like manner, acknowledged as the depositary of tlie executive
power in ail its plenitude.
'' 3. The responsibility of all the agents of authority is generally demanded.
''4. Some of the instructions assign to the king the legislative power, limited by
the constitutional and fundamental laws of the kingdom; others admit that the king,
in the interval between one session of the States-General and another, can, singly,
make laws of police and administration, which shall be but provisional, and for
which they require free registration in the sovereign courts ; one haillage has even
required tliat the registration shall not take place without the consent of two thirds
of the intermediate connnissions of the district assemblies. The greater number of
the instructions acknowledge the necessity of the royal sanction for the promulgation
of the laws.
" VV^ith respect to the legislative power, most of the instructions recognise it as
residing in the national representation, on condition of the royal sanction; and it ap-
pears that this ancient maxim of the capitularies. Lex fit consensu populi et constitutione
regis, is almost generally adopted by your constituents.
"As to the organizationof the national representation, the questions on which you
have to decide relate to the convocation, or to the duration, or to the composition, of
the national representation, or to the mode of deliberation proposed to it by your
constituents.
" As to the convocation, some have declared that the States-General cannot be
dissolved but by themselves; others, that the right of convoking, proroguing, and
dissolving, belongs to the king, on the sole condition, in case of dissolution, that he
shall innnediately issue a fresh convocation.
" As to the duration, some have required that the sessions of the states shall be pe-
riodical, and insisted that the periodical recurrence should notdepend either on the will
or the interest of the depositories of authority : others, but in smaller number, have
demanded the permanence of the States-General, so that the separation oi'lhe mem-
bers should not involve tiie dissolution of the states.
" The system of periodical sessions has given rise to a second question : Shall
there or shall there not be an intermediate commission in the intervals between the
sessions ? The majority o>f vour constituents have considered the establishment of an
Intermediate commission as a dangerous expedient.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 57
tion, to be given to a great people, excites their minds so powerfully,
inspires them with plans so vast and hopes so chimerical, that mea-
sures either vague or exaggerated, and frequently hostile, are natu-
rally to be expected from them. In order to give regularity to the
"As to the composition, some have insisted on the separation of the three orders;
but, in regard to this point, the extension of the powers which several representa-
tions have already obtained, leaven, no doubt, a greater latitude for the solution of
tiiis question.
" Some huilluges have demanded the junction of the two higher orders in one and
the same chamber; others, the suppression of the clergy, and the division of its mem-
bers between the otlier two orders ; others, that the representation of the nobility should
be double that of the clergy, and that both together should be equal to that of the
commons.
" One baUlage, in demanding the junction of the two higher orders, has demanded
the establishment of a third, to be entitled the order of tlie farmers (ordre des cam-
pagnes). It has likewise been proposed, that any person holding otiico, employ, or
jilace at court, shall be disqualified to bea deputy to the States-General. Lastly, the
inviolability of the persons of the deputies is recognised by the greater number of
the baiiliigcs, and not contested by any. As to the mode of deliberation, the question
of opinion by individuals, and of opinion by orders, is solved : some baillages require
two thirds of the opinions to form a resolution.
" The necessity of the national consent to ta.xes is generally admitted by your con-
stituents, and established by all your instructions : all limit the duration of a tax to
the period which you shall have fixed, a period which shall in no case extend further
than from one convocation to another ; and this imperative clause has appeared to
all your constituents the surest guarantee of the perpetuity of your national assem-
. bhes.
" Loans being but an indirect tax, they have deemed it right that they should be
subjected to the same principles.
" Soma baillnges have excepted from imposts for a term such as should be destined
for the liquidation of the national debt, and have expressed their opinion that these
ought to be levied until its entire extinction.
" As to the administrative bodies, or provincial states, all the instructions demand
of you their establishment, and most of them leave their organization to your wis-
dom.
" Lastly, the rights of the citizens, liberty, property, are claimed witn energy by
the whole French nation. It claims for each of its members the inviolability of
private property, as it claims for itself the inviolability of the public property ; it
claims in all its extent individual liberty, as it has just established for ever the national
liberty ; it claims the liberty of the press, or the fifee communication of thought ;
It inveighs with indignation against iettres de cachet, which dispose in an arbitrary
manner of persons, and against the violation of the secrecy of the post, one of the
most absurd and most infamous inventions of despotism.
"Amidst this concurrence of claims, we have remarked, gentlemen, some particu-
lar modifications relative to letlrcs dc cachet and the liberty of the press. Vou will
weigh them in your wisdom; you will no doubt cheer up that sentiment of French
honour, which in its horror of disgrace, has sometimes misconceived justice, and
which will no doubt be as eager to submit to the law when it shall command the
strong, as it was to withdraw itself from its control when it pres.sed only upon the
weak; you will calm the uneasiness of religion, so frequently assailed by libels in the
time of the prohibitory system ; and the clergy, recollecting that licentiousness was long
the companion of slavery, will itself acknowledge that the first and the natural effect
of liberty is the return of order, of decency, and of respect for the objects of the pub-
lic veneration.
" Such, gentlemen, is the account wiiich your committee has conceived itself
bound to render of that part of your instructions which treats of the constitution.
You will there find, no doubt, all the foundation-stones of the edifice which you are
charged to raise to its full height; but you will perhaps miss in them that order, that
unity of political combination, without which the social system will always exhibit
numerous defects : the powers are there indicated, but they are not yet distinguished
with the necessary precision ; the organization of tlie national representation is not
VOL. I. — 8. <^ 3
58 HISTORY OF THE
proceedings, a committee was appointed to measure their extent, and
to arrange their distribution. This committee was composed of the
most moderate members of the Assembly. Mounier, a cool-headed,
but obstinate man, was its most laborious and influential member; it
was he who drew up the order of the proceedings.
This difficulty of giving a constitution was not the only one that
sufficiently established, the principles of eligibility are not laid in them : it is from
your labours that those results are to spring. The nation has insisted on being free,
and it is you whom it has charged with its enfranchisement: the genius of France
has hurried, as it were, the march of the public mind. It has accumulated for you in
a few hours the experience which could scarcely be expected from many centuries.
You have it in your power, gentlemen, to give a constitution to France : the King
and the people demand one ; both the one and the other have deserved it.
" Result of the Analysis of the Instructions.
"avowed principles.
" Art. 1. The French government is a monarchical government.
"2. The person of the King is inviolable and sacred.
"3. His crown is hereditary from male to male.
" 4. The King is the depositary of the executive power.
"5. The agents of authority are responsible.
" 6. The royal sanction is necessary for the promulgation of the laws.
" 7. The nation makes laws with the royal sanction.
"8. The national consent is necessary for loans and taxes.
"9. Taxes can be granted only for the period from one convocation of the States-
General to another.
" 10. Property shall be sacred.
" 11. Individual liberty shall be sacred.
" Questions on which the whole of the Instructions have not explained themselves in a uni-
form manner.
"Art. I. Does the King possess the legislative power, limited by the constitu-
tional laws of tlie kingdom ?
"2. Can the King, singly, make provisional laws of police and administration in
the interval between the holding of the States-General?
" S. Shall these laws be subject to free registration in the sovereign courts ?
"4. Can the States-General be dissolved only by themselves ?
" 5. Has the King alone the power to convoke, prorogue, and dissolve, the States-
General ?
"6. In case of dissolution, is not the King obliged immediately to issue anew con-
vocation?
" 7. Shall the States-General be permanent or periodical ?
" 8. If they are periodical, shall there or shall there not be an intermediate com
mission ?
"9. Shall the two first orders meet together in one and the same chamber ?
" 10. Shall the two chambers be formed without distinction of orders ?
" 11. Shall the members of the order of the clergy be divided between the other
two orders?
" 12. Shall the representation of the clergy, nobility, and commons, be in the pro
portion of one, two, and three?
" 13. Shall there be established a third order, withthe title of order of the farmers?
" 14. Can persons holdmg offices, employments, or places at court, be elected
deputies to the States-General ?
" 15. Shall two thirds of the votes be necessary in order to form a resolution?
"16. Shall taxes having for their object the liquidation of the national debt be levied
till its entire extinction?
" 17. Shall iMrcs dc cachet be abolished or modified ?
" 18. Shall the liberty of the press be indefinite or modified?"
FRENCH REVOLUTIOi*. 6d
the Assembly had to surmount. Between an ill-disposed government
and a starving populace, vs^hich required speedy relief, it was difficult
for it to avoid interfering in the administration. Distrusting the
supreme authority, and urged to assist the people, it could not help,
even without ambition, encroaching by degrees on the executive
power. The clergy had already set it the example, by making to the
tiers-ttat the insidious proposal to direct its immediate attention to the
subject of the pid)lic subsistence. The Assembly, as soon as it was
formed, appointed a committee of subsistence, applied to the ministry
for information on the subject, proposed to favour the circulation of
provisions from province to province, to convey them officially to the
places where they were needed, and to defray the expense by loans
and charitable contributions. The ministry communicated the effica-
cious measures which it had taken, and which Louis XVI., a careful
administrator, had favoured to the utmost of his power. Lally-Tol-
lundal proposed to issue decrees relative to free circulation ; upoji
which Mounier objected that such decrees would require the royal
sanction, and this sanction, beinj; not vet regulated, would be attended
with serious difficulties. Thus all sorts of obstacles combined toge-
ther. It was requisite to make laws, though the legislative forms were
not fixed ; to superintend the administration without encroaching on
the executive authority ; and to provide against so many difficulties, in
spite of the ill-will of power, the opposition of interests, the jarring
of opinions, and the urgency of a populace recently awakened and
rousing itself, a few leagues from the Assembly, in the bosom of an
immense capital.
A very small distance separates Paris from Versailles, and a person
may traverse it several times in one day. All the disturbances in
Paris were, therefore, immediately known at Versailles, both to the
court and to the Assembly. Paris then exhibited a new and extraor-
dinary spectacle. The electors, assembled in sixty districts, refused
to separate after the elections, and they remained assembled either to
give instructions to their deputies, or from that fondness for agitation
which is always to be found in the human heart, and which bursts
forth with the greater violence the longer it has been repressed. They
had fared just the same as the National Assembly: being shut out of
their place of meeting, they had repaired to another ; they had finally
obtanied admittance into the Hotel de Ville, and there they continued
to assemble and to correspond with their deputies. There were yet
no public prints that gave an account of the sittings of the National
Assembly ; people therefore felt it necessary to meet for the purpose
of learning aiul conversing upon events. The garden of the Palais
Royal was the theatre of the most numerous assemblages. This
magnificent garden, surrounded by the richest shops in Europe, and
forming an appurtenance to the palace of the Duke of Orleans, was
the rendezvous of foreigners, of debauchees, of loungers, and, above
all, of the most vehement agitators. The boldest harangues were
delivered in the coffee-houses, or in the garden itself. There might
be seen an orator mounted upon a table, collecting a crov.d around
him, and exciting them by the most furious language — language al-
60 HISTORY OF THE
ways unpunished — for there the mob reigned as sovereign. Here
men, supposed to be the tools of the Duke of Orleans, displayed the
greatest violence. The wealth of that prince, his well-known prodi-
gality, the enormous sums which he borrowed, his residence on the
spot, his ambition, though vague, all served to point accusation against
him.* History, without mentioning any name, is authorized, at least,
to declare that money was profusely distributed. If the sound part
of the nation was ardently desirous of liberty, if the restless and suf-
fering multitude resorted to agitation for the purpose of bettering its
condition, there were instigators who sometimes excited that multi-
tude, and perhaps directed some of its blows. In other respects, this
influence is not to be reckoned among the causes of the revolution, for
it is not with a little money and with secret manoeuvres that you can
convulse a nation of twenty-five millions of souls.
An occasion for disturbance soon occurred. The French guards,
picked men, destined to compose the King's guard, were at Paris ;
four companies were detached by turns to do duty at Versailles. Be-
sides the barbarity of the new discipline, these troops had reason to
complain also of that of their new colonel. At the pillage of Reveil-
lon's house they had ceilainly shown some animosity against the
populace ; but they had subsequently been sorry for it, and, mingling
daily with the mob, they had yielded to its seductions. Moreover,
both privates and subalterns were aware that the door to promotion
was closed against them : they were mortified to see their young ofld-
cers do scarcely any duty, showing themselves only on parade-days,
and after reviews not even accompanying the regiment to the barracks.
Here, as elsewhere, there had been a tiers-itat, which had to do all
the work without receiving any share of the profit. Symptoms of
insubordination manifested themselves, and some of the privates were
confined in the Abbaye.t
* '' At this period, a report, which had long been circulated, assumed a semblance
of truth. The Duke of Orleans had been accused of being at the head of a party,
and the newspapers of the day employed his name in the hints which they daily set
forth, that France should follow the example of England. The Duke of Orleans
was fixed upon, because, in the English revolution, the direct line of the royal family
had been expelled in favour of the Prince of Orange. The thing was so often re-
peated, that the Duke of Orleans began at la.st to believe that he might place himself
at the head of a party, and become the leader of a faction, without the qualitication
for such an office." — Memoirs of the Duchess d'Abrantes. E.
t " The regiment of the French guards, consisting of 3600 men, in the highest
state of discipline and equipment, had for some time given alarming symptoms of
disaffection. Their colonel had ordered them, in consequence, to be confined to
their barracks, when three hundred of them broke out of their bounds, and repaired
instantly to the Palais Royal. They were received with enthusiasm, and liberally
plied with money, by the Orleans party; and to such a height did the transport rise,
that, how incredible soever it may appear, it is proved by the testimony of numerous
witnesses above all suspicion, that women of family and distinction openly embraced
the soldiers as they walked in the gardens with their mistresses. After these disor-
ders had continued for some time, eleven of the ringleaders in the mutiny were seized
and thrown in the prison of the Abbey; a mob of GOOO men immediately assembled,
forced the gates of the prison, and brought them back in triumph to the Palais Royal.
The King, upon the petition of the Assembly, pardoned the prisoners, and on the
following day they were walking in triumph through the streets of Paris." — Alison's
French Revolution. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 61
The men assembled at the Palais Royal, shouting " To the Ab-
baye !" the mob instantly ran thither. The doors were broken open,
and the soldiers brou<rht out, and carried away in triumph. AVhilst
the populace guarded them at the Palais Royal, a letter was written
to the Assembly, demanding their liberation. Placed between the
people on the one hand and the government on the other, which was
suspected, since it was about to act in its own behalf, the Assembly
could not help interfering and committing an encroachment, by med-
dling with the public police. Taking a resolution, at once prudent
and adroit, it assured the Parisians of its desire for the maintenance
of good order, exhorted them not to disturb it, and at the same time
sent a deputation to the King to implore his clemency, as an infallible
mode of restoring peace and concord. The King, touched by its
Moderation, promised his clemency when order should be re-esta-
ished. The French guards were immediately sent back to prison,
from which they were as immediately released by a pardon from the
King.
So far all was well ; but the nobility, in joining the other two
orders, had yielded with regret, and only upon a promise that its
union with them should be of short duration. It still continued to
assemble every day, and protested against the proceedings of the
National Assembly ; its meetings gradually became less numerous :
on the 3d of July, 133 members attended ; on the 10th 93, and on the
11th but 80. The most obstinate, however, had persisted, and on the
1 1th they determined upon a protest, which succeeding events pre-
vented them from drawing up. The court, on its part, had not yielded
without regret and without plan. On recovering from its alarm, after
the sitting of the 23d, it had approved the general union of the three
estates, in order to impede the march of the Assembly by means of
the nobles, and in the hope of soon dissolving it by main force
Necker had been retained merely to mask, by his presence, the secret
plots that were hatching. Excepting a certain agitation, and a degree
of reserve that was employed towards him, he had no reason to sus-
pect any grand machination. The King himself was not apprized
of all, and there were persons who proposed, no doubt, to go further
than he wished. Necker, who conceived that the whole activity of a
statesman ought to confine itself to reasoning, and who possessed just
so much energy as was necessary to remonstrate, did so without eftect.
Conjointly with Mounier, Lally-ToUendal, and Clermont-Tonnerre,
he meditated the establishment of the English constitution. The
court was meanwhile carrying on its secret preparations. The noble
deputies having manifested an intention to withdraw, they were de-
tained hy hints thrown out to them of an event that would speedily
happen.
Troops were approaching; old Marshal de Broglie had been ap-
pointed to the chief command of them, and the Baron de Besenval
to the particular command of those which were around Paris. Fif-
teen regiments, mostly foreign, were in the environs of the capital.
The exultation of the courtiers revealed the danger; and these con-
spirators, too prompt to threaten, thus compromised their projects.
62 HISTORY OF THE
The popular deputies apprized, not of all the particulars of a plan
which is not yet entirely known, with which the King himself was
but partially acquainted, but which certainly tended to employ vio-
lence, were irritated, and turned their attention to the means of
resistance. We are ignorant, and shall probably ever remain so, of
the share which secret means had in the insurrection of the 14th of
July, but this is of no consequence. The aristocracy was conspiring —
tlie popular party could conspire too. The means employed were
equal, setting aside the justice of the cause, and justice was not
on their side who would fain have broken up the union of the three
orders, dissolved the national representation, and wreaked their ven-
geance upon its most courageous deputies.
Mirabeau was of opinion that the surest way of intimidating power
was to force it to discuss, publicly, the measures Avhich it was seen tOj-
take. To this end it was necessary to denounce it openly. If it hesi-
tated to reply, if it had recourse to evasion, it would be condemned ;
the nation would be warned and roused.
On tlie motion of Mirabeau, the discussion of the constitution was
suspended, and he proposed to solicit the King to remove the troops.
In his hmguage, he combined respect for the monarch with the seve-
rest reproaches of the government. He stated that fresh troops were
daily advancing; that all the communications were intercepted ; that
the bridges, the promenades, were converted into military posts ; that
circumstances, public and secret, hasty orders and counter-orders,
met all eyes, and were the heralds of war: to these facts he added
bitter reproaches. " More threatening soldiers," said he, " are shown
to the nation, than hostile invaders would perhaps find to encounter,
and a thousand times more, at least, than could be brought together to
succour friends, the martyrs of their fidelity, and above all, to preserve
that alliance of the Dutch, so valuable, so dearly bought, and so dis-
gracefully lost."
His speech Avas received with applause ; and the address which he
proposed was adopted, with the exception of one article, in which,
while invoking the removal of the troops, he demanded that they
should be replaced by the civic guard : this article was suppressed.
The address was voted, with only four dissentient voices. In this
celebrated address, which, as it is said, was not written by Mirabeau,
but all the ideas of which he had communicated to one of his friends,
he foreboded almost every thing that was about to happen : the ex-
plosion of the multitude, and the defection of the troops from their
intermin<r]iii<>: with the citizens. Not less acute than bold, he ventured
to assure the King that his promises should not be vain. " You have
summoned us," said he, " to regenerate the kingdom ; your wishes
shall be accomplished, in spite of snares, difficulties, dangers," &c.
The address was presented by a deputation of twenty-four mem-
bers. The King, having resolved not to enter into explanations,
replied that the assemblage of troops was for no other purpose than
the maintenance of the public tranquillity, and the protection due to
the Assembly ; that, moreover, if the latter still felt any apprehen-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 63>
sions, he would remove it to Soissons or Noyon, and that he would
himself repair to Compiefifae.
The Assembly could not be satisfied with such an answer, and
especially with the proposal to withdraw from the capital, and to place
itself between two camps. The Count de Crillon proposed that they
sliould trust to the word of a King, who was an honest man. " The
word of a King, who is an honest man," replied Mirabeau, " is a
bad security for the conduct of his ministers ; our l)lind confidence in
our kings has undone us: we demanded the withdrawal of the troops,
and not permission to flee before them. We must insist again and
again."
This opinion was not supported. Mirabeau insisted so strongly
upon open means, that he may be forgiven any secret machinations,
if it be true that he actually resorted to them.
< The 11th of July had now arrived. Necker had several times told
the King that, if his services were not acceptable, he wotdd retire
with submission. " I take you at your word," replied the King. On
the 11th, in the evening, Necker received a note in which Louis XA'F.
required him to keep his word, and urged him to set out, adding that
he had sufficient confidence in him to hope that he would keep his de-
])arture a profound secret. Necker, justifying the honourable confidence
of the monarch, set out without apprizing his friends or even his
daughter, and in a few hours was at a considerable distance from Ver-
sailles. The following day, July r2th, was Sunday. A report was
now circulated at Paris that Necker had been dismissed, as well as
Messrs. de Montmorin, de la Luzerne, de Puisegur, and de St. Priest.
As their successors, Messrs, de Breteuil, de la Vauguyon, de Broglie,
Foulon, and Dam^court, were mentioned, almost all known for their
opposition to the popular cause. The alarm spread throughout Paris.
Tile people hurried to the Palais Royal. A young man, since cele-
brated for his republican enthusiasm, endowed with a tender heart but
an impetuous spirit, mounted a table, held up a pair of pistols, and
shouting " To arms!" plucked a leaf from a tree, of which he made
a cockade, and exhorted the crowds to follow his example. The trees
were instantly stripped. The people then repaired to a museum con-
taining busts in wax. They seized those of Necker and the Duke of
Orleans, who was threatened, it was said, with exile, and then spread
themselves in the various quarters of Paris. This mob was passing
through the Rue St. Honore, when it was met, near the Place Vendome,
by a detachment of the Royal German regiment, which rushed upon
it and wounded several persons, among whom was a soldier of the
French guards. The latter, predisposed in favour of the people and
against the Royal Germans, with whom they had a few days befi>re
had a quarrel, were in barracks near the Place Louis XV. They fired
upon the Royal Germans. The Prince dt; Lambesc, who command-
ed this regiment, instantly fell back upon tlu' garden of the Tuiileries,
charged the people who were quietly walking there, killed an old man
amidst the confusion, and cleared the garden. Meanwhile, the troops
surrounding Paris formed in the Champ de Mars and the Place Louis
XV. Terror, before unbounded, was now changed into fury. People
64 HISTORY OF THE
ran into the city, shouting " To arms !" The mob hurried to the
H8tel de Ville to demand weapons. The electors composing the ge-
neral assembly were there met. They delivered out the arms, which
they could no longer refuse, and which, at tlie instant when they de-
termined to grant them, the people had already begun to seize. These
electors composed at the moment the only established authority. De-
prived of all active powers, they assumed such as the occasion requi-
red, and ordered the districts to be convoked. All the citizens instantly
assembled, to consult upon the means of protecting themselves at one
and the same time against the rabble and the attack of the royal
troops. During the night, the populace, always ready for excitement,
forced and burned the barriers, dispersed the gate-keepers, and afford-
ed free access by all the avenues to the city. The gunsmiths' shops
were plundered. Those brigands who had already signalized them-
selves at Reveillon's, and who on all occasions are seen springing up,
as it were, out of the ground, again appeared, armed with pikes and
bludgeons, spreading consternation. These events took place on
Sunday, the r2diof July, and in the night between Sunday and Mon-
day, the 13th, On Monday morning, the electors, still assembled at
the H8tel de Ville, thought it incumbent on them to give a more legal
form to their authority : they accordingly summoned the attendance
of the provost of the trades [pr^vot des marchands), the ordinary ad-
ministrator of the city. The latter refused to comply unless upon a
formal requisition. A requisition was in consequence issued ; a cer-
tain number of electors were appointed as his assistants, and thus was
composed a municipality invested with all necessary powers. This
municipality sent for the lieutenant of police, and drew up in a few
hours a plan for arming the civic militia.
This militia was to consist of forty-eight thousand men, furnished
by the districts. The distinctive sign was to be the Parisian cockade,
red and blue, instead of the green cockade. Every man found in
arms and wearing this cockade, without having been enrolled by his
district in the civic guard, was to be apprehended, disarmed, and pun-
ished. Such was the primary origin of the national guards. This
plan was adopted by all the districts, which hastened to carry it into
execution. In the course of the same morning, the people had plun-
dered the house of St. Lazare in search of grain ; they had forced the
armoury to obtain arms, and had rummaged out the ancient armour and
put it on. The rabble, wearing helmets and carrying pikes, were seen
inundating the city. The populace now showed itself hostile to pil-
lage ; with its usual fickleness, it affected to be disinterested ; it spared
money, took nothing but arms, and itself apprehended the brigands.
The French guards and the night-watch had offered their services,
and they had been enrolled in the civic guard.
Arms were still demanded with loud shouts. Flesselles, the provost,
who had at first resisted his fellow-citizens, now manifested great zeal,
and promised twelve thousand muskets on that very day, and more
on the following days. He pretended that he had made a contract
with an unknown gunsmith. The thing appeared diflScult, consider-
ing the short time that had elapsed. Meanwhile, evening drew on ;
FRENCH REVOLUTION'. 65
the chests of arms announced by Flesselles were carried to the H8tel
de Ville ; they were opened, and found to be full of old linen. At
this sight the multitude was fired with indignation against the provost,
who declared that he had been deceived. To appease them, he di-
rected them to go to the Carthusians, with the assurance that arms
would there be found. The astonished Carthusians admitted the
furious mob, conducted them into their retreat, and finally convinced
them that they possessed nothing of the sort mentioned by the pro-
vost.
The rabble, more exasperated than ever, returned with shouts of
" Treachery !" To satisfy them, orders were issued for the manufac-
ture of fifty thousand pikes. Vessels with gunpowder were descend-
ing the Seine, on their way to Versailles ; these were stopped, and an
elector distributed the powder amidst the most imminent danger.
A tremendous confusion now prevailed at the Hotel de Ville, the
seat of the authorities, the head-quarters of the militia, and the
centre of all operations. It was necessary to provide at once for the
safety of the town, which was threatened by the court, and its internal
safety endangered by the brigands ; it Avas requisite every moment to>
allay the suspicions of the people, who believed that they were be-
trayed, and to save from their fury those who excited their disti-ust..
About this place were to be seen carriages stopped, wagons inter-
cepted, travellers awaiting permission to proceed on their journey-
During the night, the H8tel de Ville was once more menaced by the
brigands. An elector, the courageous Moreau de St. Mery, to whose
care it had been committed, caused barrels of powder to be brought,
and threatened to blow it up. At this sight the brigands retired.
Meanwhile the citizens, who had gone to their homes, held themselves
in readiness for every kind of attack : they had unpaved the streets,
opened the trenches, and taken all possible measures for resisting a
siege.
During these disturbances in the capital, consternation pervaded
the Assembly. It had met on the morning of the 13th, alarmed bv
the events that were in preparation, and still ignorant of what was
passing in Paris. Mounier, the deputy, first rose and censured
the dismissal of the ministers. Lally-Tollendal, who took his place
in the tribune, pronounced a splendid panegyric on Necker, and both
joined in proposing an address, for the purpose of soliciting the King
to recal his disgraced ministers. M. de Virieu, a deputy of the nobi-
lity, even proposed to confirm the resolutions of the 17th of .June bv
a new oath. M. de Clennont-Tonnerre opi)osed this motion as useless ;
and, referring to the engagements by which the Assembly had already
bound itself, he exclaimed, " The constitution shall be, or we will
perish !" The discussion had lasted some time, when news arrived
of the disturbances in Paris during the morning of the 13th, and the
calamities with which the capital was threatened between undisci-
plined Frenchmen, who, according to the expression of the Duke de
La Rochefoucault, were not in any one's hand, and disciplined
foreigners, who were in the hand of despotism. It was instantly re-
solved to send a deputation to the King, for the purpose of submitting
VOL. I. — 9 <^ 3
66 HISTORY OF THE
to him a picture of the desolation of the capital, and beseeching him to
order the removal of the troops, and the estabUshment of the civic
guards. The King returned a cold, dry answer, which was far from
according with his disposition, and alleged that Paris was not capable
of guarding itself. The Assembly then, exalting itself to the noblest
courage, passed a memorable resolution, in which it insisted on the
removal of the troops and the establishment of the civic guards; de-
clared the ministers and all the agents of power responsible ; threw
upon the counsellors of the King, of whatever rank they might be, the
responsibility of the calamities that were impending, consolidated the
[lubhc debt, forbade the mention of the infamous term bankruptcy,
persisted in its preceding resolutions, and directed the president to ex-
press its regret to jM. Necker and to the other ministers. After these
measures, fraught alike with energy and prudence, the Assembly, in
order to preserve its members from all personal violence, declared it-
self permanent, and appointed M. de Lafayette vice-president, to
relieve the worthy Archbishop of Vienne, whose age did not permit
him to sit day and night.
Thus passed the night between the 13th and 14th in agitation and
ahirm. Fearful tidings were every moment brought and contradict-
ed. AJl the plans of the court were not known; but it was ascertained
that several deputies were threatened, and that violence was to be em-
ployed against Paris and the most distinguished members of the
Assembly. Having adjourned for a short time, the Assembly again
met, at five in the morning of the 14th of July : with imposing calm-
ness, it resumed the consideration of the constitution, and discussed
with great propriety the means of accelerating its execution, and of
conducting it with prudence. A committee was appointed to prepare
the questions ; it was composed of the Bishop of Autun, the Arch-
bisliop of Bordeaux, Messrs. Lally, Clermont-Tonnerre, Mounier,
Sieyes, Chapelier, and Bergasse. The morning passed away. Intelli-
gence more and more alai'ming continued to arrive. The King, it was
said, was to set off in the night, and the Assembly would be left exposed
to several foreign regiments. At this moment the princes, the Duchess
de Polignac, and the Queen, were seen walking in the orangery, flatter-
ing the officers and the soldiers, and causing refreshments to be
distributed among them. It appears that a grand plan had been devis-
ed for the night between the 14th and loth; that Paris was to be
attacked on seven points, the Palais Royal suri-ounded, the Assembly
dissolved, the declaration of the 23d of June submitted to the parlia-
ment, and finally, thatthe wantsof the exchequer were to be supplied by
bankruptcy and paper money. So much is certain, that the commaii
dants of the troops had received orders to advance in the night between
the 14th and 15th, that the paper money had been prepared, that the
ban-acks of the Swiss were full of ammunition, and that the jrovernor
of the Bastille had disfurnished the fortress, with the exception of some
indispensable articles. In the afternoon, the terrors of the Assembly
redoubled. The Prince de Lambesc was seen passing at full gallop.
The report of cannon was heard, and people clapped their ears to the
ground to catch the slightest sounds. Mirabeau then proposed to sus-
FRKNCH REVOLUTION. 67
pend the discussions, and to send anotlier deputation to the King
The deputation set c)iit immediately, to make fresh I'emonstrances.
At this moment, two members of tiie Assembly, who had come from
Paris in the utmost haste, declared that the people there were
shuuditerino- one another ; one of them affirmed that he had seen the
headless body of a man dressed in black. It began to grow dark.
The arrival of two electors was annoiuiced. The most profoinid si-
lence pervaded the hall ; the sound of their footfalls was heard amid
the darkness ; and the Assembly learned from their lips that the Bas-
tille was attacked, that cannon had been fired, tliat blood had been
spilt, and that the city was threatened wiWi the direst calamities. A
fresh deputation w-as instantly despatched before the return of the pre-
ceding one. Just as it was about to depart, the first arrived, and
brought the answer of the King. It reported that the King had ordered
the troops encamped in tlie Champs de Mars to be withdrawn, and,
having been apprized of the formation of the civic guard, had appoint-
ed officers to command it.
On the arrival of the second deputation, the King, more agitated
than ever, said, " Gentlemen, you rend my heart more and more by
the account you give of the calamities of Paris. It is not possible
that the oi'ders given to the troops can be the cause of them." Nothing
had yet been obtained but the removal of the army. It was now two
in the morning. The answer returned to the city of Paris was, " that
two deputations had been sent, and that the applications should be re-
newed that day, until they had obtained the success which might justly
be expected from the heart of the King, when extraneous impressions
did not counteract its impidses." The sitting was suspended for a
short time, and in the evening intelligence of the events of the 14th
arrived.
The populace, ever since the night of the 13th, had thronged about
the Bastille. Some musket-shots had been fired, and it appears that
ringleaders had repeatedly shouted " To tlie Bastille !" The wish
for its destruction had been expressed in the instructions given to some
of the deputies ; thus the ideas of the public had beforehand taken
tliat direction. A cry for arms was still kept up. A report was spread
that the H8tel des Invalides contained a considerable quantity. The
mob instantly repaired thither. M. de Sombreuil, the governor, or-
dered admittance to be denied, saying, that he must send for orders to
Versailles. The populace, turning a deaf ear to all expostulation,
rushed into the hotel, and carried off the cannon and a gi'eat quantity
of muskets. A large concourse of people were already besieging the
Bastille. They declared that the guns of the fortress were pointed
at the city, and that they must take care to prevent their firing upon
them. The deputy of a district solicited admission into the place, and
obtained it of the commandant. In going over it, he found thirty-two
Swiss and eighty-two invalids, and received a promise from the gar-
rison not to fire unless it should be attacked. During this parley, the
people, not seeing the deputy return, began to be exasperated, and the
latter was obliged to show himself in order to appease the multitude.
At length he retired, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon. Half aa
6S HISTORY OF THE
hour had scarcely elapsed, before a fresh mob arrived witli arms, shout-
insf, " Let us storm the Bastille !" The garrison summoned the as-
sailants to retire, but they persisted. Two men, with great intrepidity
mounted the roof of the guard-house, and broke with axes the chains
of the bridge, which fell down. The rabble rushed upon it, and ran
to a second bridge, purposing to pass it in like manner. At this mo-
ment a discharge of musketry brought it to a stand ; it fell back, but
firing at the same time. The conflict lasted for a few moments. The
electors, assembled at the H8tel de Ville, hearing the report of mus-
ketry, became more and more alarmed, and sent two deputations, one
on the heels of the other, to require the commandant to admit into the
fortress a detachment of the Paris militia, on the ground that all the
military force in the capital ought to be at the disposal of the city au-
tliorities. These two deputations arrived in succession. Amidst this
siege by the populace, it was with great difficulty that they could make
themselves heard. The sound of the drum, the sight of a flag, for a
time suspended the firing. The deputies advanced ; the garrison
awaited them, but it was diflScult to understand each other. Musket-
shots were fired, from some unknown quarter. The mob, persuaded
that it was betrayed, then rushed forward to set fire to the building ;
on this the garrison fired with grape. The French guards thereupon
came up with cannon, and commenced an attack in form.*
* " All morning, since nino, there has been a. cry every where : ' To the Bastille I'
Repeated ' deputations of citizens' have been here, passionate for arms ; whom de
Lauiiay has got dismissed by soft speeches through port-holes. Towards noon.
Elector Tiiuriot de la Rosiere gains admittance: finds Delaunay indisposed for sur-
render; nay, disposed for blowing up the place rather. Thtiriot mounts with him to
the battlements : heaps of paving-stones, old iron, and missiles, lie piled: cannon all
duly levelled ! in every embrasure a caimon, — only drawn back a little' But out-
wards, behold, O Thuriot, how the multitude flows on, welling through every street;
tocsin furiously pealing, all drums beating the g6n6r ale : the suburb Sainte-Antoine
rolling hitherward wholly, as one man! Such vision (spectral yet real) thou, O
Thiiriot, as from thy Mount of Vision, beholdest in this moment: prophetic of other
phantasmagories, and loud-gibbering spectral realities which thou yet beholdest not,
butslialt! " Q,ue vonlez-vous ?"' said Delaunay turning pale at the sight, with an
air of reproach, almost of menace. ' Monsieur,' said Thuriot, rising irito the moral-
sublime, 'what mean yuti? Consider if I could not precipitate hotk of us from this
height,' — say only a hundred feet, exclusive of the walled ditch I Whereupon
Delaunay fell silent.
" Wo to thee, Delaunay, in such an hour, if thou canst not, taking some one firm
decision, ndc circumstances ! Soft speeches will not serve ; hard grape-shot is ques-
tionable ; but hovering between the two is i<M-questionable. Ever wilder swells the
tide of men; their infinite hum waxing ever louder, into imprecations, perhaps into
crackle of stray musketry — which latter, on walls nine feet thick, cannot do execu-
tion. The outer drawbridge has been lowered for Thuriot; new deputatiun of citi-
zens (it is the third, and noisiest of all) penetrates that way into the outer co\irt:
soft speeches producing no clearance of these, Delaunay gives fire; pulls up his
drawbridge. A slight sputter; — which has kindled the too combustible chaos; ujade
it a roaring fire-chaos ! Bursts forth insurrection, at sight of its own blood, (for there
were deaths by that sputter of fire,) into endless rolling exjjlosion of nmsketry, dis-
traction, execration ; — and over head, from the fortress, let one great gun, with its
grape-shot, go booming, to show what we coidd do. The Bastille is besieged '
" On, then, all Frenchmen that have hearts in their bodies I Roar with all your
throats of cartilage and metal, ye sons of liberty; stir spasmodically whatsoever of
utmost faculty is in you, soul, body, or spirit; for it is the hour! Smite, thou Louis
Tournay, cartwright of the Marais, old-soldier of the regiment Dauphine; smite at
FRENCH RCVOLUTION. 69
During these proceedings, a note addressed by the Baron de Besen-
val to Delaunay, governor of the Bastille, was intercepted and read at
the H6tel de Ville. Besenval exhorted Delaunay to resist, assuring
him that he should soon receive succour. It was in fact in the even-
ing of that day that the plans of the court were to be carried into ex-
ecution. Meanwhile, Delaunay seeing the desperation of the mob,
and no succours having arrived, seized a lighted match with the inten-
tion of blowing up the fortress. The garrison opposed it, and obliged
him to surrender : the signals were made, and a bridge lowered. The
besiegers approached, promising not to do any mischief. The crowd,
however, rushed in, and took possession of all the courts. The Swiss
found means to escape. The invalids, attacked by the populace, were
saved from their fury solely by the zealous interference of the French
guards. At this moment, a female, beautiful, young, and trembling,
came forward ; she was supposed to be the daughter of Delaunay ;
she was seized and about to be burned, when a brave soldier rushed
to the spot, wrested her from the hands of the enraged rabble, con-
ducted her to a place of safety, and hurried back to the affray.
It was now half past five o'clock. The electors were in the most
painful anxiety, when they heard a dull and continuous murmur. A
crowd approached, shouting " Victory !" They poured into the hall :
a French guardsman, covered with wounds and crowned with laurels,
was borne in triumph by the mob. The regulations and the keys of the
Bastille were carried on the point of a bayonet : a bloody hand raised
above the mob exhibited a bunch of hair ; it was the queue of Delaunay,
the governor, whose head had just been stricken off. Two French
guards, Elie and Hulhn, had defended him to the last extremity.
Other victims had fallen, though heroically defended against the fero-
city of the mob. A strong animosity began to be expressed against
Flesselles, the provost of the trades ; he was accused of treason. It
was alleged that he had deceived the people by repeatedly promising
them arms which he never meant to jjive them. The hall was soon
full of men heated with a long combat, and backed by a hundred
thousand more outside the hotel, all eager to enter in their turn. The
electors strove to justify Flesselles to the mob. His assurance began
to forsake him, and, already quite ])ale, he exclaimed, " Since I am
suspected, I will retire." — " No," was the reply made to him, " come
to the Palais Royal to be tried." Accordingly, he descended to repair
thither. The agitated multitude surrounded and pressed upon him.
On reaching the Quai Pelletier, he was struck to the ground by a
that outer dr.iwbridj^e chain, thougli the fiery hail whistles round thee I Never, over
nave or felloe, did thy axe strike sucli a stroke. Down with it, man ; down with it
to Orciis: let the whole accursed edifice sink thither, and tyranny be swallowed up
forever! Mounted some say on the roof of the gu;ird room, some 'on bayonets
stuck into joints of the wall,' Louis Tournay smites, brave Aubiu liouucinore (also
ail old soldier) seconding him: the chain yields, l)reaks; the huge drawbridge slams
down, thundering (acre fracas.) Glorious: and, yet, alas, it is still i)ut llie outworks.
Tilt.' eight grim towers with their In\alides' musketry, their paving stones and can-
non-mouths still soar aloft intact; — ditch yawning impassable, stone-faced ; the inner
drawbridge, with its backtowards us: the Bastille is still to take !" — Carlyle's "French
Hi col lit ion.'' E. ^
70 HISTORY OF THE
pistol-shot, fired by a person unknown. It is asserted that a letter
had been found upon Dclaunay, in which Flesselles thus wrote to
liim: " Hold out, while I amuse tlie Parisians with cockades."
Such were the disastrous events of that day. A feeling of terror
speedily followed the intoxication of victory. The conquerors of the
Bastille, astonished at their audacity, and expecting to find the hand
of authority formidable on the following day, durst not make them-
selves known. Every moment, rumours were spread that the troops
were approaching to storm Paris. Qloreau de St, Mery, the same per-
son who ou the preceding day had threatened the brigands to blow up
the Hfitel de Ville, remained unshaken, and issued upwards of three
thousand orders in a iew hours. As soon as the capture of the Bas-
tille was known at the H8tel de Ville, the electors had sent the intelli-
gence to the Assembly, which received it about midnight. The sitting
was suspended, and the tidings spread with rapidity. The couit, up
to this moment, conceiving no notion of the energy of the people,
laughing at the efforts of a blind rabble to take a fortress which the
great Conde had besieged in vain, was calmly cracking its jokes on
the subject. The King, nevertheless, began to be uneasy : his last
answers had betrayed his grief. He had retired to bed. The Duke
de Liancourt, so well known for his generous sentiments, was the
particular friend of Louis XVI., and, by virtue of his oflSce of grand-
master of the wardrobe, he always had access to the King. On learn-
ing the occurrences in Paris, he repaired in all haste to the apart-
ment of the monarch, awoke him in spite of the ministers, and
informed him of what had happened. " What, rebellion !" exclaimed
the prince. " Sire," replied the duke, " rather say revolution." The
King, enlightened by his representations, consented to go the next
morning to the Assembly. The court yielded also, and this act of
confidence was resolved upon. During this interval, the Assembly had
resumed its sitting. Unacquainted with the new dispositions imparted
to the King, it determined to send a last deputation, to try to move
him, and to obtain from him what he had not yet been prevailed upon
to grant. This deputation was the fifth since the commencement of
those calamitous events. It was composed of twenty-four members,
and was just setting out when Mirabeau, more vehement than ever,
stopped it. " Tell the King," cried he, — " be siu'e to tell him, that
the foreign hordes by which we are invested were yesterday invited
by the princes, the princesses, the he-favourites, and the she-favourites,
and received their caresses, and their exhortations, and their presents.
Tell him that the livelong night these foreign satellites, gorged with
money and with wine, have been predicting, in their impious songs,
the subjugation of France, and that their brutal wishes invoked the de-
struction of the National Assemblv. Tell him that, in his very palace,
the courtiers mingled with their dances the sound of that barbarous
music, and that such was the prehide to the massacre of St. Bartho
lomew. Tell him that that Henry, whose memory the whole world
blesses, that one of his ancestors whom he meant to take for his pat-
tern, allowed provisions to be conveyed into rebellious Paris, which
he was besieging in person ; whereas, his ferocious councillors are
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 71
turning back the flour that commerce is sending to faithful and
famished Paris."
The deputation was just about to proceed to the King, when news
arrived tliat he was coming, of his own accord, without guards and
without escort. The hall rang with applause. " Wait," cried Mira-
beau gravely, " till the King has made us acquainted with his good
dispositions. Let a sullen respect be the first welcome paid to the
monarch in this moment of grief. The silence of nations is a lesson
for kings."
liouis XVI. then entered, accompanied by his two brothers. His
simple and touching address excited the Avarmest enthusiasm. He
spoke cheeringly to the Assembly, which he called for the first time,
the National Assembly. He mildly complained of the suspicions that
had been conceived of him. " You have been afraid of me," said
he ; " now, for my part, I put my trust in you." These words were
hailed with applause. The deputies immediately rose, surrounded
the monarch, and escorted him back on foot to the palace. The
throng pressed around him ; tears started from every eye ; and he
could scarcely open himself a passage through this numerous retinue.
The Queen, stationed at that moment with the court in a balcony,
contemplated from a distance this affecting scene. Her son was in
her arms: her daughter, standing beside her, was sportively playing
with her brother's hair. The princess, deeply moved, appeared to be
delighted by this expression of the love of the French. Ah ! how
often has a reciprocal emotion reconciled hearts during these fatal
dissensions ! For a moment all seemed to be forgotten ; but, on the
morrow, nay, perhaps the very same day, the court had resumed its
pride, the people their distrust, and implacable hatred recommenced
its course.
Peace was made with the assembly, but it had yet to be made with
Paris. The Assembly first sent a deputation to the Hotel de Ville to
convey the tidings of the happy reconciliation brought about with the
King. Bailly, Lafayette, and Lally-Tollendal, were among its mem-
bers. Their presence diffused the liveliest joy. The speech of Lally
excited such transport, that he was carried in triumph to a window of
the H8tel de Ville to be shown to the people. A wreath of flowers
was placed on his head, and these honours were paid him facing the
very spot where his father expired with a gag in his mouth. The death
of the unfortunate Flesselles, the head of the municij)ality, and the
refusal of the Duke d'Aumont to accept the command of the civic
militia, left the a])pointnients of provost and commandant-general to
be filled up. Bailly was proposed, and amidst the loudest acclama-
tions he was nominat(;d successor to Flesselles, with the title of mayor
of Paris. The wreath which had been placed on the head of Lally
was transferred to that of the new mayor; he would have taken it olf,
but the Archbishop of Paris held it where it was in opposition to his
wishes. The virtuous old man could not repress his tears, and he
resigned himself to his new functions. A worthy rej>resentative of
a great assembly, in presence of the majesty of the throne, he was
less capable of withstanding the storms of a commonalty, where the
72 HISTORY or THE
multitude struggled tumultuously against its magistrates. With exem-
plary self-denial, however, he prepared to undertake the* difficult task
of providing subsistence and feeding a populace who repaid him in
the sequel witli such base ingratitude. A commandant of the militia
yet remained to be appointed. There was in the hall a bust sent
by enfranchised x\merica to the city of Paris : Moreau de St. Mery
pointed to it witli his finger; all eyes were directed towards it. It
was the bust of the Marquis de Lafayette. A general cry proclaimed
him commandant. A Te Deum was instantly voted, and the assem-
bly proceeded in a body to Notre-Dame. The new magistrates, the
Archbishop of Paris, the electors, mingled with French guards and
soldiers of the militia, walking arm in arm, repaired to the ancient
cathedral, in a species of intoxication. By the way, the Foundlings
threw themselves at the feet of Bailly, who had laboured zealously in
behalf of the hospitals, and called him their father. Bailly clasped them
in his arms, and called them his children. On reaching the church,
the ceremony was performed, and the congregation then dispersed in
the City, where a delirious joy had succeeded the terrors of the pre-
ceding day. x4t this moment the people were flocking to see the den
so long dreaded, to which there was now free access. They visited
the Bastille with an eager curiosity, and with a sort of terror. They
sought for the instruments of torture, for the deep dungeons. They
went thither more particularly to see an enormous stone, placed in the
middle of a dark and damp prison, to the centre of Avhich was fixed a
ponderous chain.
The court, as blind in its apprehensions as it had been in its con-
fidence, felt such a dread of the populace, that it imagined every
moment that a Parisian army was marching to Versailles. The Count
d'Artois, and the Polignac family, so dear to the Queen, quitted
France at that time, and were the first emigrants. Bailly came to
cheer the King, and persuaded him to return to Paris, which he
resolved to do, in spite of the resistance of the Queen and the court.*
The King prepared to set out. Two hundred deputies were direct-
ed to accompany him. The Queen took leave of him with profound
grief. The body-guard escorted him to Sevres, where they stopped
to await his return. Bailly, at the head of the municipality, received
him at the gates of Paris, and presented to him the keys formerly
offered to Henry IV. " That good King," said Bailly to him, " had
conquered his people ; at present, it is the people who have re-con-
quered their King." The nation, legislating at Versailles, Avas armed
* "The day of the King's entry into Paris was the first of the emigration of the
noblesse. The violent aristocratical party, finding all their coercive measures over-
turned, and dreading the etTects of popular resentment, left the kingdom. The
Count d'Artois, the Prince of Conde, the Prince of Couti, Marshall Broglio, and the
whole family of the Polignacs, set off in haste, and arrived in safety at Brussels — a
fatal example of defection, which, being speedily followed by the inferior nobility, pro-
duced the most disastrous consequences. But it was the same in all the subsequent
changes of the Revolution. The leaders of the royalist party, always the first to pro-
pose violent measures, were at the same timeunal)le to support them when furiously
opposed ; they diminisiied the sympathy of the world at their fall from so high a rank,
by showing that they were unworthy of it." — Alison's French Revolution. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 73
at Paris. Louis XVI., on entering, found himself surrounded by a
silent multitude, arrayed in military order. He arrived at the H&tel
de Ville, passing under an arch of swords crossed over his liead, as
a mark of honour. His address was simple and touching. The
people, unable to contain themselves, at length burst forth, and
lavished upon the King their accustomed applause. These acclama-
tions somewhat soothed the heart of the prince; nevertheless, he
could not disguise a feeling of joy on perceiving the body-guard
stationed on the heights of Sevres; and, at his return, the Queen,
throwing herself into his arms, embraced him as though she had been
afraid that she should never see him again.
Louis XVL, in order to satisfy completely the pubhc wish, ordered
the dismissal of the new ministers, and the reinstatement of Necker.
M. de Liancourt, the friend of the King, and his most useful adviser,
was elected president by the Assembly. The noble deputies, who,
though they attended the deliberations, still refused to take any part
in tliem, at length yielded and gave their votes. Thus was consum-
mated the amalgamation of the orders. From that moment the Revo-
o
lution might be looked upon as accomplished. The nation, possessed
of the legislative power through the Assembly, and of the public
force through itself, could henceforward carry into effect whatever
was beneficial to its interest. It was by refusing the equality of im-
posts that the government had rendered the States-General necessary ;
it was by refusing a just division of authority among those states that
it had lost all influence over them ; finally, it was in attempting to
recover that influence that it had driven Paris to insurrection, and
provoked the whole nation to appropriate to itself the public force.
At this moment all was agitation in that immense capital, where a
new authority had just been established. The same movement which
had impelled the electors to set themselves in action, urged all classes
to do the same. The Assembly had been imitated by the Hotel de Ville,
the HStel de Ville by the districts, and the districts by all the corpora-
tions. Tailors, shoemakers, bakers, domestic servants, meeting at
the Louvre, in the Place Louis XV., in the Champs Elysees, delibe-
rated in form, notwithstanding the repeated prohibitions of the muni-
cipality. Amidst these contrary movements, the HStel de Ville,
opposed by the districts, and annoyed by the Palais Royal, was
encompassed with obstacles, and was scarcely adequate to the duties
of its immense administration. It combined in itself alone the civil,
judiciid, and military authority. The head-quarters of the militia
were established there. The judges, at first, uncertain respecting
their powers, sent thither accused persons. It possessed even the
legislative power, for it was charged to form a constitution for itself.
For this purpose, Bailly had demanded two commissioners for each
district, who, by the name of representatives of the commune, were to
draw up its constitution. The electors, in order that they might be
able to attend to all these duties, had divided themselves into several
committees. One, called the committee of research, superintended
the police ; another, called the committee of subsistence, directed its
attention to the §upply of provisions — the most diflScuIt and danger-
voL. I. — 10 > 4
74 HISTORY OF THE
ous task of all. It was in the latter that Bailly was himself obliged
to labour night and day. It was necessary to make continual pur-
chases of corn, then to get it ground, and afterwards carried to Paris
through the famished country. The convoys were frequently stopped,
and it required numerous detachments to prevent pillage by the way
and in the markets. Though the state sold corn at a loss, that the
bakers might keep down the price of bread, the multitude was not
satisfied : it was found expedient to reduce the pi'ice still more, and
the dearth of Paris was increased by this very diminution, because
the country people flocked thither to supply themselves. Fears for
the morrow caused all who could to lav in an abundant stock, and
thus what was accumulated in some hands left nothing for others. It
is confidence that accelerates the operations of commerce, that pro-
duces an abundant supply of articles of consumption, and that renders
their distribution equal and easy. But when confidence disappears,
commercial activity ceases ; articles of consumption no longer arri-
ving in sufficient quantity to meet the wants, those wants become
importunate, add confusion to dearth, and prevent the proper distri-
bution of the little that is left. The supply of subsistence was there-
fore the most arduous duty of all. Bailly and the committee were a
prey to painful anxieties. The whole labour of the day scarcely suf-
ficed for the wants of the day, and they had to begin again on the
morrow with the same perplexities.
Lafayette, commandant of the civic militia, had as many troubles
to encounter as Bailly. He had incorporated into this militia the
French guards devoted to the cause of the revolution, a certain num-
ber of Swiss, and a great quantity of soldiers who had deserted from
their regiments in the hope of higher pay. The King had himself
authorized this proceeding. These troops, collectively, formed what
were called the companies of the centre. The militia assumed the
name of the national guard, adopted a uniform, and added to the two
colours of the Parisian cockade, red and blue, the white colour, which
was that of the King. This was the tricoloured cockade, whose des-
tinies Lafayette predicted, when he declared that it Avonld make the
tour of the world.
[t was at the head of these troops that Lafayette strove, for two
consecutive years, to maintain the public tranquillity, and to enforce the
execution of the laws which the Assembly daily enacted. Lafayette,
the offspring of an ancient family which had remained uncontaminated
amidst the corruption of the great, endowed with a firm' and upright
mind, and fond of true glory, had become weary of the frivolities of
the court and of the pedantic discipline of our armies. As his own
country offered nothing noble to be attempted, he decided in favour
of the most generous enterprise of the age, and embarked for Ame-
rica, the day after that on which a report reached Europe that it was
subdued. He there fought by the side of Washington, and decided
the enfranchisement of the New World by the alliance of France.
Returning to his own country with a European renown, welcomed at
court as a novelty, he showed himself there, simple and free as an Ame-
rican. When philosophy, which had been but a pastime for noble idlers.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 75
required sacrifices from them, Lafayette persisted almost alone in
his opinions, demanded the States-General, contributed powerfully to
tlie junction of the orders, and, by way of recompense, was appointed
commandant-general of the National Guard. Lafayette had not the
passions and tiie genius which frequently lead to the abuse of power:
with an equable mind, a sound understanding, and a system of inva-
riable disinterestedness, he was peculiarly fitted for the part which cir-
cumstances had allotted to him — that of superintending the execution
of the laws. Adored by his troops, though he had not captivated
them by victory, ever calm and full of resources, amidst the ebulli-
tions of the multitude he preserved order with indefatigable vigilance.
The parties which had found him incorruptible, depreciated his abi-
lities, because they could not attack his character. He formed, how-
ever, no false estimate of men and events, appreciated the court and
the party leaders at no more than their real value, and protected them
at the peril of his life without esteeming them ; struggled, frequently
without hope, against the factions, but with the perseverance of a
man who is determined never to forsake the public weal, even when
he deems it hopeless.
Lafayette, notwithstanding his indefatigable vigilance, was not al-
ways successful in his endeavours to check the popular fury. For,
let a force be ever so active, it cannot show itself every where against
a populace that is every where in agitation, and looks upon every
man as an enemy. Every moment, the most absurd reports were cir-
culated and credited. Sometimes it was said that the soldiers of the
French guards had been poisoned ; at others, that the flour had been
wilfully adulterated, or that its arrival had been prevented ; and those
wlio took the greatest pains to bring it to the capital, were obliged to
appear before an ignorant mob, who overwhelmed them with abuse or
covered them with applause, according to the humour of the moment.
Whether it was, however, that men were paid for aggravating the
disturbances by instigating the rabble, or that they had still more de-
testable motives, so much is certain, that they directed the fury of the
people, who knew not either how to select or to seek long for their vic-
tims. Foulon and Berthier were pursued and apprehended at a dis-
tance from Paris. This was done with evident design. There was
nothing spontaneous in the proceedings, except the fury of the mob by
whom they were murdered. Foulon, formerly an intendant, a harsh
and rapacious man, had committed horrible extortions, and had been one
of the ministers appointed to succeed Necker and his colleagues. He
was apprehended at Virey, though he had spread a report of his death.
He was conveyed to Paris, and reproached by the way with having
said that the people ought to be made to eat hay. A collar of nettles
was put round his neck, a bunch of thistles in his hand, and a truss of
hav at his back. In this state he was dratrijed to the Hotel de A'ille.
At the same instant, his son-in-law, Berthier de Sauvigny, was appre-
hended at Compiegne, by an order, as it was alleged, of the connnune
of Paris, which had never issued any such order. The commune
instantly wrote, directing that he should be released ; but this injunc-
tion was not executed. He was bron<rht to Paris at the very moment
76 HISTORY OF THE
that Foulon was exposed at the Hotel de Ville to the rage of the furious
rabble. They were for putting him to death. The remonstrance of
Lafayette had pacified them for a moment, and they consented that
Foulon should be tried ; but they insisted that sentence should be
passed forthwith, that they might be gratified by its immediate execu-
tion. Some electors had been chosen to act as judges; but they had
on various pretexts i-efused the terrible office. At length Bailly and
Lafayette were designated for it ; and they were already reduced to
the cruel extremity of devoting themselves to the rage of the populace
or sacrificing a victim. Lafayette, however, continued to temporize
with great art and firmness : he had several times addressed the croAvd
with success. The unfortunate Foulon, placed on a seat by his side,
had the imprudence to applaud his concluding words. " Look you,"
said a bystander, " how they play into each other's hands." At this
expression the crowd became agitated, and rushed upon Foulon. La-
fayette made incredible efforts to save him, from the murderers ; again
the unfortunate old man was dragged from him, and hanged to a lamp.
His head was cut off, stuck on a pike, and paraded through Paris.
At this moment Berthier arrived in a cabriolet, escorted the guards,
and followed by the multitude. The bleeding head was shown to him,
without his suspecting that it was the head of his father-in-law. He
was conducted to the H tel de Ville, where he uttered a few words,
full of courage and indignation. Seized anew by the mob, he disen-
gaged himself for a moment, snatched a weapon, made a desperate
defence, and soon perished like the unhappy Foulon. These mur-
ders had been conducted by enemies either to Foulon or to the
public welfare ; for the apprehension of the victims was the result of
contrivance, though the fury of the rabble at sight of them had been
spontaneous, like most of its movements. Lafayette, full of grief and
indignation, resolved to resign. Bailly and the municipality, alarmed
at this intention, were anxious to divert him from it. It was then
agreed that he should announce his resignation, to show his dissatis-
faction with the people, but that he should suffer himself to be per-
suaded to retain his command by the entreaties that would not fail to
be addressed to him. The people and the militia did actually throng
around him, and promised the utmost obedience in future. On this
condition he resumed the command ; and, subsequently, he had the
satisfaction of preventing many disturbances by his own energy and
the zeal of his troops.
Meanwhile Necker had received at Basle the commands of the
Ring and the solicitations of the Assembly. It was the Polignacs,
whom he had left triumphant at Versailles, and whom he encountered
as fugitives at Basle, that first apprized him of the misfortunes of the
throne, and the sudden return to favour that awaited him. He set
out and traversed France, drawn in triumph by the people, to whom,
according to his custom, he recommended peace and good order.
Though an enemy of the Baron de Besenval, he went to his suc-
cour, and promised to demand his pardon from the Parisians. Tho
King received him with embarrassment, the Assembly with cntlnisi-
asm ; and he resolved to proceed to Paris, where he too might expect
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 77
to have his day of triumph. Necker's intention was to solicit of the
electors the pardon and liberation of the Baron de Besenval. In vain
did Bailly, not less an enemy than himself to rigorous measures, hut
a more just appreciator of circumstances, represent to him the danger
of such a step, and observe that this favour, obtained in a moment of
excitement, would be revoked next day as illegal, because an admi-
nistrative body could neither condemn nor pardon ; Necker persisted,
and made a trial of his influence over the capital. He repaired to the
Hotel de Ville on the 29tli of July. His hopes were surpassed, and
he could not help believing himself omnipotent on beholding the trans-
ports of the multitude. Deeply affected, his eyes filled with tears, he
demanded a general amnesty, which was instantly granted by accla-
mation. The two assemblies of the electors and representatives,
manifested equal enthusiasm : the electors decreed a general amnesty ;
the representatives of the commune ordered the liberation of Besenval.
Necker retired intoxicated, taking to himself the plaudits that were
addressed to his dismissal from office. But that very day he was des-
tined to be undeceived. Mirabeau prepared for him a cruel reverse.
In the Assembly, in the districts, a general outcry was raised against
the sensibility of the minister, very excusable, it was said, but mista-
ken. The district of the Oratoire, instigated, as we are assured, by
Mirabeau, was the first to find fault. It was maintained on all sides
that an administrative body could neither condemn nor absolve. The
illegal measure of the H8tel de Ville was annulled, and the detention
of the Baron de Besenval confirmed. So soon was verified the opi-
nion of the sagacious Bailly, which Necker could not be persuaded
to follow.
At this moment parties began to speak out more decidedly. The
parliaments, the nobility, the clergy, the court, all threatened with the
same ruin, had united their interests, and acted in concert. Neither the
Count d'Artois nor the Polignacs were any longer at the court. Con-
sternation mingled with despair pervaded the aristocracy. Having
been unable to prevent what it termed the evil, it was now desirous that
the people should commit as much evil as possible, in order to bring
about good by the very excess of that evil. This system, compounded
of spite and perfidy, which is called political pessimism, begins
among parties as soon as they have suffered sufficient losses to make
them renounce what they have left in the hope of regaining the whole.
The aristocracy began from this time to adopt this system, and it was
frequently seen voting with the most violent members of the popular
party.
Circumstances draw forth men. The danger which threatened the
nobility, produced a chanipion for it. Young Cazaltis, captain in the
Queen's Dragoons, had found in himself an unlooked-for energy of
mind and facility of expression. Precise and simple, he said prompt-
ly and suitably what he had to say ; and it is to be regretted that his
upright mind was devoted to a cause which had no valid reasons to
urge till it had been persecuted. The clergy had found its defender
in the Abbe Maury. That abbe, a practised and inexhaustible sophist,
had many happy sallies and great coolness : he could courageously
78 HISTORY OF THE
withstand tumult and audaciously oppose evidence. Such were the
means and the dispositions of the aristocracy.
The ministry was without views and without plans. Necker, hated
by the court, which endured him from compulsion, — Necker alone
had, not a plan, but a wish. He had always a longing after the Eng-
lish constitution, the best no doubt that can be adopted, as an accom-
modation between the throne, the aristocracy, and the people ; but
this constitution, proposed by the Bishop of Langres, before the es-
tablishment of a single assembly, and refused by the first orders, had
become impracticable. The high nobility would not admit of two
chambers, because that would be a compromise ; the inferior nobility,
because it could not have access to the upper chamber ; the popular
party, because, still filled with apprehensions of the aristocracy, it was
unwilling to leave any influence to the latter. A few deputies only,
some from moderation, others because that idea was their own, wished
for English institutions, and formed the whole party of the minister —
a weak party, because it held forth only conciliatory views to exas-
perated passions, and opposed to its adversaries arguments alone,
without any means of action.
The popular party began to disagree, because it began to conquer.
Lally-Toliendai, 3Iounier, Malouet, and other partisans of Necker,
approved of all that had been done thus far, because all that had been
done had brought over the government to their ideas, that is to say, to
the English constitution. They now judged that this was sufficient ;
reconciled with power, they wished to stop there. The popular party,
on the contrary, conceived that it was not yet time to stop. It was in
the Breton club that the question was discussed with the greatest vehe-
mence. A sincere conviction was the motive of the majority ; per-
sonal pretensions began nevertheless to manifest themselves, and the
movements of private interest to succeed the first flights of patriotism.
Barnave, a young advocate of Grenoble, endowed with a clear and
ready mind, and possessing, in the highest degree, the talents requisite
for a good speaker, formed with the two Lameths a triumvirate, which
interested by its youth, and soon influenced by its activity and its abi-
lities. Duport, the young counsellor to the parliament, whom we have
already seen distinguishing himself, belonged to their association. It
was said at the time that Duport conceived all that ought to be done,
that Barnave expressed it, and that the Lameths executed it. How-
evei-, these young deputies were the friends of one another, without
being yet declared enemies to any one.
The most courageous of the popular leaders, he who, ever in the
van, opened the boldest discussions, was Mirabeau. The absurd in-
stitutions of the old monarchy had shocked just minds, and excited the
indignation of upright hearts ; but it was impossible that they should
not have galled some ardent spirit, and inflamed strong passions. This
spirit was that of Mirabeau, who, encountering from his birth every
kind of tyranny, that of his father, of the government, and of the tri-
l»i!!i,ds, spent his youth in combating and in hating them. He was
born beneath the sun of Provence, the oflspring of a noble family.
He had early made himself notorious by his dissolute manners, his
FRE^CH REVOLUTION. 79
quarrels, and an impetuous eloquence. His travels, observation, and
inimcnse reading, had taught liiiii much, and his memory had retained
it all. But extravagant, eccentric, nay, even a sophist, witiiout the aid
of passion, he became by its aid quite a different man. No sooner
was he excited by the tribune and the presence of his opponents tiiau
his mind took fire : his first ideas were confused, his words incoherent,
his whole frame agitated, but presently the light burst forth. His
mind then performed in a moment the labour of years; and in the
very tribune all was to him new discovery, sudden and energetic ex-
pression. If again crossed, he returned, still more forcible and more
clear, and presented the truth in images either striking or terrible.
Were the circumstances difficult, were minds fatigued by a long dis-
cussion, or intimidated by danger, an ejaculation, a decisive word,
dropped from his lips, his countenance looking terrific with ugliness
and genius, and the Assembly, enlightened or encouraged, enacted
laws or passed magnanimous resolutions.
Proud of his high qualities, jesting over his vices, by turns haughty
or supple, he won some by his flattery, awed others by his sarcasms,
and led all in his train by the extraordinary influence which he pos-
sessed. His party was every where, among the people, in tlie Assem-
bly, in the very court, with all those, in short, to whom he was at the
moment addressing himself. Mingling familiarly with men, just when
it was requisite to do so, he had applauded the rising talent of liar-
nave, though he disliked his young friends ; he appreciated the pro-
found understanding of Sieyes, and humoured his wild disposition ;
he dreaded too pure a life in Lafayette ; in Necker he detested an ex-
treme rigour, the pride of reason, and the pretension of directing a
revolution which he knewto be attributable to him. He was not friendly
to the Duke of Orleans and his unsteady ambition, and, as we shall
soon see, he never had any interest in common with him. 'JMuis, un-
aided except by his genius, he attacked despotism, which he had
sworn to destroy. If, however, he was a foe to the vanities of monar-
chy, he was still more adverse to the ostracism of republics ; but, not
being sutficiently revenged on the great and on power, he still conti-
nued to destroy. Harassed moi'cover by straightened circumstances,
dissatisfied with the present, he was advancing towards an unknown
future ; by his talents, his and)ition, his vices, his pecuniary embar-
rassments, he gave rise to all sorts of conjectures, and by his cynical
language he authorized all suspicions and all calumnies.
Thus were France and the parties divided. The first difterences
between the popular deputies arose on occasion of the excesses
committed by the multitude. Mounier and Lally-Tollendal proposed
a solemn proclamation to the people, to reprobate their outrages. The
Assembly, sensible of the uselessness of this measure, and the neces-
sity for preserving the good-will of the populace who had supported
it, at first rejected this proposal, but, afterwards, yielding to the solicita-
tions of some of its members, it at length issued a proclamation, which
proved, as it had been foreseen, utterly useless, for it is not by words
that an excited populace can be pacified.
The agitation was general. A sudden terror had spread itself ever,v
80 HISTORY OF THE
where. The name of those brigands who had been seen starting up
in the different commotions was in all mouths, and their image in all
minds. The court threw tlie blame of their outrages on the popular
party, and the popular party on the court. All at once, couriers tra-
versing France in all directions, brought tidings that the brigands
were coming, and that they were cutting the corn before it was ripe.
People assembled from all quarters, and in a few days all France was
in arms, awaiting the brigands, who never made their appearance.
This stratagem, which extended the revolution of the 14th of July to
every part of tiie kingdom, by causing the whole nation to take up
arms, was attributed to all the parties, and has since been imputed to
the popular party, which benefitted by its resuks. It is surprising that
a stratagem, more ingenious than culpable, should be bandied about
from one to the other. It has been ascribed to Mirabeau, who boasted
of being its author, and who nevertheless has disavowed it. It was
not unlike a contrivance by Sieyes, hnd some have imagined that it
was he who suggested it to the Duke of Orleans. Lastly, it was im-
puted by others to the court. Such persons argue, that those couriers
would have been apprehended at every step had they not been autho-
rized by the government ; that the court, never having supposed the
revolution to be general, and looking upon it as a mere riot of the
Parisians, wished to arm the provinces for the purpose of opposing
them to the capital. Be this as it may, the expedient proved Isenefi-
cial to the nation, by arming and enabling it to protect itself and its
rights.
The people of the towns had shaken off" their fetters ; the country
people also determined to shake ofi' theirs. They refused to pay the
feudal dues ; they attacked such of the landholders as had oppressed
them ; they set fire to their mansions, burned their title-deeds, and,
in some parts of the country, committed atrocious acts of revenge. A
deplorable accident had greatly contributed to excite this universal
eff'ervescence. A Sieur de Mesmai, seigneur of Quincey, gave an en-
tertainment in the grounds about his mansion. All the country peo-
ple were assembled there, and indulging in various amusements, when
a barrel of gunpowder, suddenly taking fire, produced a murderous
explosion. This accident, since ascei'tained to have been the efi'ect of
imprudence and not of design, was imputed as a crime to the Sieur de
Mesmai. The report of it soon spread, and every where provoked
the barbarity of those peasants, hardened by misery, and rendered
cruel by long sufferings. The ministers came in a body to submit to
the Assembly a picture of the deplorable state of France, and to de-
mand from it the means of restoring order. These disastei-s of all
kinds had occurred since the 14th of July. The month of August
was beginning, and it became indispensable to re-establish the action of
the government and of the laws. But, to attempt this with success, it
was necessary to commence the regeneration of the state, with the re-
form of the institutions which were most obnoxious to the people, and
had the greatest tendency to excite them to insurrection. One part of
the nation, subject to the other, was burdened with a number of what
were termed feudal dues. Some, called useful, compelled the peasants
FRENCH RE\OLUTIO\. 81
to make ruinous advances ; others, named honorary, required them
to pay humihating marks of respect and services to their lords. These
were rehcs of the feudal barbarism, the abolition of which was due to
humanity. These privileges, considered as property, and even called
so by the King in the declaration of the 23d of June, could not be
abolished by a discussion. It was requisite, by a sudden movement,
to excite the possessors to resign them of their own accord.
The Assembly was then discussing the famous declaration of the
rights of man. It had at first been debated whetiier there should be
such a declaration or not, and it had been decided, on the morning of
the 4th of August, that it should be made and placed at the head of
tlie constitution. In the evening of the same day, the committee made
its report on the disturbances and the means of putting an end to them.
The Viscount de Noailles and the Duke d'Aiguillon, both members of
the nobility, then ascended the tribune, and represented that it would
be silly to employ force to quiet the people ; that the right way Avould
be to destroy the cause of their sufferings, and then the agitation
wliich was the effect of them would instantly cease. Explaining
themselves more fully, they proposed to abolish all the vexatious rights,
which, by the name of feudal rights, oppressed the country people.
M. Leguen de Kerengal, a landholder of Bretagne, appeared in tin-
tribune in the dress of a farmer, and drew a frightful picture of the
feudal system. Presently the generosity of some was excited, and
the pride of others wrought upon to such a degree, as to produce a
sudden paroxysm of disinterestedness ; every one hurried to the tribune
to renounce his privileges. The nobility set the first example, which
was as cheerfully followed by the clergy. A sort of intoxication seized
the Assembly. Setting aside a superfluous discussion, and which cer-
tainly was not required to demonstrate the justice of such sacrifices,
all orders, all classes, all the possessors of prerogatives of every kind,
hastened to renounce them. After the deputies of the first orders, those
of the commons came also to offer their sacrifices. Having no personal
j)rivileges to give up, they relinquished those of the provinces and the
towns. The equality of rights, established between individuals, was thus
established also between all the parts of the French tei'ritory. Some of-
fered pensions, and a member of parliament, havingnothing else to give,
promised his zeal in behalf of the public welfare. The steps of the
office were covered with deputies wlio came to deliver the acts of their
renunciation. They were content for the moment to enumerate the
sacrifices, and deferred till the following day the drawing up of the
articles. The impulse was general, but amidst this enthusiasm, it was
easy to perceive that certain of the privileged persons, so fiu- from
being sincere, were desirous only of making matters worse. Everv
thing was to be feared from the effect of that night and the impulse
given, when Lally-Tollendal, perceiving the danger, caused a note to
this efiect to be handed to the president : " Every thing is to be appre-
hended from the enthusiasm of the Assembly; break up the sitting."
At the same instant, a deputy ran up to him, and, grasping his hand
with emotion, said to him, " Procure us the royal sanction, and we are
friends." Lally-Tellendal, sensible of the necessity of attaching the
VOL. I. 11 4
82 HISTORY OF THE
revolution to the King, then proposed to proclaim him the restorer of
French liberty. The motion was hailed with enthusiasm ; it was re-
solved that Tc Deum should be performed, and the Assembly at length
broke up about midnight.
During this memorable night the Assembly had decreed :
The abolition of the quality of serf; ^
The right of compounding for the seignorial dues ;
The abolition of the seignorial jurisdictions ;
The suppression of the exclusive rights to hunt, to keep dovecotes,
warrens, «fec. ;
The redemption of tithes ;
The equality of taxes ;
The admission of all the citizens to civil and military employ-
ments;
The abolition of the sale of offices ;
The suppression of all the privileges of the towns and provinces ;
The reformation of the jurandes ;
And the suppression of pensions obtained without claims.
These resolutions had been passed in a general form, and they still
remained to be embodied in decrees ; and then, the first fervour of
generosity having subsided, some strove to extend, others to contract,
the concessions obtained. The discussion grew warm, and a late and
injudicious resistance did away with all claim to gratitude.
The abolition of feudal rights had been agreed upon ; but it was
necessary to make a distinction between such of these rights as were
to be abolished, and those that were to be redeemed. The conquerors,
the first creators of the nobility, when of old they subdued the coun
try, imposed services upon the inhabitants, and a tribute upon the land
They had even seized part of the latter, and had gradually restored it
to the cultivators only on the condition of being paid perpetual rents.
A long possession, followed by numerous transfers, constituting pro-
perty, all the charges imposed upon the inhabitants and the lands had
acquired the same character. The Constituent Assembly was there-
fore compelled to attack property. In this situation, it was not as
more or less acquired, but as being more or less burdensome to soci-
ety, that the Assembly had to deal with it. It abolished personal ser-
vices ; and, several of these services having been changed into quit-
rents, it abolished these quit-rents. Among the tributes imposed upon
land, it abolished those which were evidently the relics of servitude,
as the fines imposed upon transfer ; and it declared redeemable all
the perpetual rents, that were the price for which the nobility had for-
merly ceded part of the lands to the cultivators. Nothing, therefore,
is more absurd, than to accuse the Constituent Assembly of having
violated property, since every thing had become such ; and it is strange
that the nobility, having so long violated it, either by imposing tributes
or by not paying taxes, should become all at once so tenacious of prin-
ciples, when its own prerogatives were at stake. The seignorial courts
were also called property, because they had for ages been transmitted
from heir to heir : but the Assembly, disregarding this plea, abolished
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 83
them ; directing, however, that they should be kept up till a substitute
ijhouid be provided for them.
The exclusive I'ight of the chase was also a subject of warm dis-
cussion. Notwithstanding the vain objection, that the whole popula-
tion would soon be inarms if the riglit of sporting were made general,
it was conferred on every one within the limits of his own lands.
The privileged dovecotes were in like manner defended. The Assem-
bly decided that every body might keep them, but that in harvest-time
pigeons might be killed like ordinary game, upon the lands which
they might be visiting. All the captainships were abolished, but it was
added, that provision should be made for the private pleasures of the
King by means compatible with liberty and property.
One article gave rise to discussions of peculiar violence, on aci;ouiit
of the more important questions to which it was the prelude, and the
interests which it attacked — this was an article relative to tithes. On
the night of the 4th of August, the Assembly had declared that tithes
might be redeemed. At the moment of drawing up the decree, it
determined to abolish them without redemption, taking care to add
that the state should provide for the maintenance of the clergy. There
M'as no doubt an informality in this decision, because it interfered with
a resolution already adopted. liut to this objection, Garat answered
that this would be a bona fide redemption, since the state actually re-
deemed the tithes to the relief of the contributor, by undertaking to
"make a provision for the clerjiy- The Abbe Sieyes, who Avas seen
with surprise among the defenders of the tithes, and who was not
supposed to be a disinterested defender of that impost, admitted in
fact that the state really redeemed the tithes, but that it committed a
robbery on the mass of the nation, by throwing upon its shoulders a
debt which ought to be borne by the landed proprietors alone. This
objection, urged in a striking manner, was accompanied with this
keen and since frequently repeated expression : " You want to be free,
and you know not how to be just." Though Sieyes thought this ob-
jection unanswerable, the answer to it was easy. The debt incurred
for the support of religion is the debt of all ; whether it should be paid
by the landed proprietors rather than by the whole of the tenants, is a
point for the state to decide. It robs nobody by dividing the burden
in such a manner as it deems most proper. Tithes, by oppressing the
little proprietors, destroyed agriculture ; the state had therefore a
right to provide a substitute for that impost ; and this Mirabeau pi-oved
to demonstration. The clergy, which preferred tithes, because it
foresaw that the salary adjudged by the state would be measured ac-
coi'ding to its real necessities, claimed a property in tithes by imme-
morial concessions ; it renewed that oft-repeated argument of long
possession, which proves nothing; otherwise every thing, not except-
ing tyranny itself, would be rendered legitimate by possession. It was
answered, that tithe was only a life-interest, that it was not trans-
ferable, and had not the principal characters of property ; that it \vas
evidently a tax imposed in favour of the clergy ; and that the state
undertook to change this tax into another. The pride of the clergy
revolted at the idea of its receiving a salary ; on this subject it com-
84 HISTORY OF THE
binedwith vehemence : and Mirabeau, who was particularly dexterous
in launching the shafts of reason and irony, replied to the complain-
ants that he knew of but three ways of existing in society — by robbing,
begging, or being paid a salary. The clergy felt that it behooved it to
give up what it was no longer able to defend. The curts in particular,
knowing that they had every thing to gain from the spirit of justice
which pervaded the Assembly, and that it was the opulence of the pre-
lates wliich was theespecial object of attack, werethe first to desist. The
entire abolition of tithes was therefore decreed ; it was added that the
state would take upon itself the expense of providing for the ministers
of religion, and that meanwhile the tithe should continue to be levied.
This latter clause, fraught with respect, proved indeed useless. The
people would no longer pay, but that they would not do even before
the passing of the decree ; and, when the Assembly abolished the
feudal system, it was already in fact overthrown. On the 11th, all the
articles were presented to the monarch, who accepted the title of the
restorer of French liberty, and was present at the Te Dcum, having
the president at his right hand, and all the deputies in liis train.
Thus was consummated the most important reform of the revolu-
tion. The Assembly had manifested equal energy and moderation.
Unfortunately, a nation never knows how to resume with moderation
the exercise of its rights. Atrocious outrages were committed through-
out the whole kingdom. The mansions of the g-entry continued to
be set on fire, and the country was inundated by sportsmen eager to
avail themselves of their newly acquired right. They spread over the
lands formerly reserved for the exclusive pleasure of their oppressors,
and committed frightful devastations. Every usurpation meets with
a cruel retribution, and he who usurps ought at least to consider his
children, who almost always have to pay the penalty. Numerous ac-
cidents occurred. So early as the 7th of August, the ministers again
attended the Assembly for the purpose of laying before it a report on
the state of the kingdom. The keeper of the seals announced the
alarming disturbances which had taken place ; Necker revealed the
deplorable state of the finances. The Assembly received this twofold
message with sorrow, but without discouragement. On the 10th, it
passed a decree relative to the public tranquillity, by which the muni-
cipalities were directed to provide for the preservation of order by
dispersing all seditious assemblages. They Avere to deliver up mere
rioters to the tribunals ; but those who had excited alarms, circulated
false orders, or instigated to outrages, were to be imprisoned, and the
proceedings addressed to the National Assembly, that it might be en-
abled to ascertain the cause of these disturbances. The national
militia and the regular troops were placed at the disposal of the mu-
nicipalities, and they were to take an oath to be faithful to the n.ation,
the King, and the law. This oath was afterwards called the civic
oath.
The report of Necker on the finances was extremely alarming. It
was the want of subsidies that had caused recourse to be had to a Na-
tional Assembly ; no sooner had this Assembly met, than it had com-
menced a struggle with power ; and, directing its whole attention
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 85
to the urgent necessity of establishing guarantees, it liad neglected
that of securing the revenues of the state. On Aecker alone rested
the whole care of the finances. While Bailly, charged with provi-
sioning the capital, was in the most painful anxiety, iSecker, harassed
bv less urg-ent but far more extensive wants — Necker, absorbed in la-
borious calculations, tormented by a thousand troubles, strove to su]>
ply the public necessities ; and, while he was thinking only of finan-
cial questions, he was not aware that the Assembly was thinking ex-
clusively of political questions. Necker and the Assembly, each en-
grossed by their own object, perceived no other. If, however, the
alarm of Necker was justified by the actual distress, so was the confi-
dence of the Assembly by the elevation of its views. That Assembly,
embracing France and its future fortunes, could not believe that this
fine kingdom, though involved for the moment in embarrassments, was
for ever plunged into indigence.
Necker, when he entered upon ofl^ice in August, 1783, had found
but four hundred thousand francs in the exchequer. He had, by dint
of assiduity, provided for the most urgent wants; and circumstances
had since increased those wants by diminishing the resources. It had
been found necessary to purchase corn, and sell it again for less thaji
the cost price ; to give away considerable sums in alms ; to under-
take public works, in order to furnish cmploymeJit to the workmen.
For this latter purpose, so much as twelve thousand francs per day had
been issued by the exchequer. While the expenses had increased,
the receipts had diminished. The reduction of the price of salt, the
delay of payments, and in many cases the absolute refusal to pay the
taxes, the smuggling carried on by armed force, the destruction of
the barriers, nay, the plunder of the registers and the murder of the
ckrks, had annihilated part of the public revenue. Necker, in con-
sequence, demanded a loan of thirty millions. The first iiiiprcs.-ion
was so strong, that the Assembly was about to vote the loan by accla-
mation ; but this first impression soon subsided. A dislike was ex-
pressed for new loans ; a kind of contradiction was committed by ap-
pealing to the instructions, which had already been renounced, and
which forbade the granting of imposts till the constitution had been
framed : members even went so far as to enter into a calculation of
the sums received since the preceding year, as if they distrusted the
minister. However, the absolute necessity of providing for the wants
of the state caused the loan to be carried ; but the minister's plan was
changed, and the interest reduced to four and a half per cent., m false
reliance upon a patriotism which was in the nation, but which couki
not exist in money-lenders by profession, the only persons who in
general enter into financial speculations of this kind. The first blun-
der was one of those which assemblies usually commit, because they
supersede the immediate views of the minister, who acts by the general
views of twelve hundred minds which speculate. It was easy to per-
ceive, therefore, that the spirit of the nation began already not to har-
monize with the timidity of the minister.
Having bestowed this indispensable care on the public tranquillity
and the finances, the Assembly directed its attention to the dtclara-
86 HISTORY OF THE
tion of rights. The first idea of it had been furnished bv Lafayette.
who had himself borrowed it from the Americans. This discussion,
interrupted by the revohition of the 14th of .Tuly, renewed on the Isi
of August, a second time interrupted by the aboHtion of tlie feudal
system, was anew and definitively resumed on the 12th of August.
This idea had something important whicli struck the Assembly. The
enthusiasm pervading the minds of the members disposed them to
every thing that was grand ; this enthusiasm produced their sincerity,
their couraore, their good and their bad resolutions. Accordinglv,
they caught at this idea, and resolved to carry it into execution. Had
they meant only to proclaim certain principles, particularly obnoxious
to the authority whose yoke they had just shaken oft", such as the vo-
ting of taxes, religious liberty, the liberty of the press, and ministerial
responsibility, nothing would have been more easy. This was what
America and England had formerly done. France might have com-
pressed into a few pithy and positive maxims, the new principles
which she imposed upon her government ; but, desiring to go back to
a state of nature, she aspired to give a complete declaration of all the
rights of the man and of the citizen. At first the necessity and the
danger of such a declaration were discussed. Much was said and to
no purpose on this subject, for there was neither utility nor danger in
issuing a declaration composed of formulas that were above the com-
prehension of the people. It was something only for a certain num-
ber of philosophic minds, which never take any great part in popular
seditions. It was resolved that it should be made, and placed at the
head of the constitutional act. But it was necessary to draw it up,
and that was the most difficult point. What is a right? — that which
is due to men. Now all the good that can be done to them is their
due ; every wise measure of government is therefore a right. Thus
all the proposed plans contained a definition of the law, the manner
in whicli it was to be made, the principle of the sovereignty, &-c. It
was objected, that these were not rights, but general maxims. It was
nevertheless of importance to express those maxims. Mirabeau, be-
coming impatient, at length exclaimed, " Omit the word rights, and ^
say, ' For the interest of all it has been declared.' " The more impos- 9
ing title of declaration of rights was nevertheless preferred, and under
it were blended maxims, principles, and declarations. Out of the
whole was composed the celebrated declaration placed at the head of
the constitution of 1791. In other respects, there was no great harm
done in wasting a few sittings on a philosophic commonplace. But
who can censure men for becoming intoxicated with an object by which
they were so much engrossed.
It was at length time to turn to the consideration of the constitu-
tion. The fatigue occasioned by the preliminaries was general, and
the fundamental questions beiran already to be discussed out of the
Assembly. The English constitution was the model that naturally
presented itself to many minds, since it was the compact made in
England in coiiso(|uence of a similar struggle between the king, the
aristocracy, and the people. This constitution resided essentially in
the establishment of two chambers and in the royal sanction. Minds
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 87
in their first flight go to the simplest ideas : a people declaring its will,
and a king who executes it, appeared to tlieni the only legitimate form
of government. To give to the aristocracy a share equal to that of the
nation, by means of an upper chamber; to give to tlie king the right
of annulling the national will ; seemed to them an absurdity. The
nation wills, the king executes: they could not get beyond these sim-
ple elements, and they imagined that they wished for a monarchy,
because they left a king as the executer of the national resolutions.
Real monarchy, as it exists even in states reputed free, is the rule of
one, to which limits are set by means of the national concurrence.
There the will of the prince in reality does almost every thing, and
that of the nation is confined to the prevention of evil, either by dis-
puting the taxes, or by concurring in the law. But the moment that
the nation can order what it pleases, without the king's having the
power to oppose it by a veto, the king is no more than a magistrate.
It is then a republic, with one consul instead of several. The govern-
ment of Poland, though it had u king, was never called a monarchy
but a repul)lic ; there was a king also at Lacedaemon.
Rlonarciiy, properly understood, requires therefore great conces-
sions from opinion. But it is not after a long nullity, and in their first
enthusiasm, that they are disposed to make them. Thus the republic
existed in men's opinions, without being mentioned, and they were
republicans without being aware of it.
In the discussion, the members did not explain themselves with
precision : accordingly, notwithstanding the genius and knowledge
to be found by the Assembly, the question was superficially treated
and imperfectly understood. The partisans of the English constitu-
tion, Necker, Mounier, and Lally, could not see in what the monarchy
ought to consist; and if they had seen it, they durst not have told
the Assembly plainly that the national will ought not to be omnipotent,
and that it ought to confine itself to prevention rather than take upon
itself the executive. All they had to urge was, that it was necessary
that the King should possess the power of checking the encroach-
ments of an assembly; that, in order to his duly executing the law,
and executing it cheerfully, it was requisite that he should have co-
operated in it ; and, finally, that there ought to exist a connexion
between the executive and legislative powers. These reasons were
bad, or at any rate weak. It was ridiculous, in fiict, whilst recogni-
sing the national sovereignty, to pretend to oppose to it the sole will
of the Kinff.*
•«=•
* The reader will find in the sequel, at the comuiencemeiit of the history of the
Legislative Assembly, a judgment that appears to me to be just concerning the faults
imputed to the constitution of 1791. I have here but one word to say on the plan of
establi^'hing, at this period, the English form of government in France. Tiiat form
of governniont is a compromise between the three interests which divide modern
states — royalty, the aristocracy, and the democracy. Now this compromise caiuiol
take place, till after the parties have exhausted their strengtii, that is to say. after com-
bat, or in other words, after a revolution. In England, in fact, it was not brought
about till afler a long struggle, .after democracy and usurpation. To pretend to etl'ect
the compromise before the combat, is to attempt to make peace before war. Tiiis is
a melancholv, but at the sauie time an incontestable truth : men never treat till thev
i
88 HISTORY Of THE
They defended the two clmmbers more successfully, because there
are, in fact, even in a republic, higher classes which must oppose the
too rapid movements of the classes that are raising themselves, by
defending the ancient institutions against the new institutions. But
that upper chamber, more indispensable than the royal prerogative,
since there is no instance of a republic without a senate, was more
scouted than the sanction, because people were more exasperated
against the aristocracy than against royalty. It was impracticable,
then, to form an upper chamber, because nobody wished for it : the
inferior nobility opposed it, because they could not obtain admission
into it ; the privileged persons themselves, who were desperate, because
they desired the worst ; the popular party, because it would not leave
the aristocracy a post whence it might command the national will.
Mounier, Lally, and Necker, were almost the only members who
wished for this upper chamber. Sieyes, by an absolute error in
judgment, would not admit either of the two chambers or of the royal
sanction. He conceived society to be completely uniform ; according
to him, the mass, without distinction of classes, ought to be charged to
will, and the king, as the sole magistrate, to be charged to execute.
He was, therefore, quite sincere when he said that, whether monarchy
or republic, it was the same thing, since the difference consisted, in his
opinion, only in the number of the magistrates charged with the execu-
tion. The characteristic of the mind of Sieyes was concatenation ;
that is to say, the strict connexion of his own ideas. He was in the
best understanding with himself, but he harmonized neither with the
nature of things, nor with minds different from his own. He subdued
them by the empire of his absolute maxims, but rarely persuaded
them : therefore, as he could neither break his systems into parts, nor
cause them to be adopted entire, he naturally began soon to be in an
ill humour. Mirabeau, a man of straightforward, prompt, supple
mind, was not further advanced, in point of political science, than
the Assembly itself; he was adverse to the two chambers, not from
conviction, but from the knowledge of their then impracticability, and
from hatred of the aristocracy. He defended the royal sanction from
a monarchical predilection, and he had pledged himself to it at the
opening of the states, when he said, that without the sanction he
would rather live at Constantinople than in Paris. Barnave, Duport,
and Lameth, could not agree in these sentiments of Mirabeau. They
were for not admitting either of the upper chamber or of the royal
sanction ; but they were not so obstinate as Sieyes, and consented to
modify their opinion by allowing the King and the upper chamber
a merely suspensive veto, that is to say, the power of temporarily
opposing the national will, expressed in the lower chamber.
Iiave exhausted their strength. The English constitution, therefore, was not practi-
cable in France till after the revolution. It was no doubt well to preach it up, but
those who did so went injudiciously to work; and, had they even shown better judg-
ment, they might not have been more successful. I shall add, in order to diiuinisli
regret, that, had even the entire English constitution been inscribed on our table of
the law, this treaty would not have appeased men's passions, till the parties had come
to blows, and the battle had been fought in spite of this preliminary treaty. I repeat
it, then, war, that is, revolution, was indispensable. God has given justice to mini
only at the price of battles.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 89
The first discussions took place on the 28th and 29th of August.
The friends of Barnave were desirous of treating wit!j Moiiuier, whose
obstinacy had made him leader of the party in favour of the English
constitution. It behooved them to gain over the most inflexible, and
to him therefore they addressed themselves. Conferences were held ;
when it was found to be impossible to change an opinion that had been
long cherished by him ; they assented to those English forms to which
he was so wedded ; but on condition that, in opposing to the popular
chamber an upper chamber and the King, only one suspensive veto
should be given to the two, and that, moreover, the King should not
have authority to dissolve the Assembly. Mounier replied, like a man
whose mind is thoroughly convinced, that truth was not his property,
and that he could not sacrifice one part to save the other. Thus did
he wreck both institutions by refusing to modify them. And if it
were true, which it was not, as we shall presently see, that the consti-
tution of 1791 overturned the throne by the suppression of the upper
chamber, Mounier would have occasion to reproach himself severely.
Mounier was not passionate but obstinate ; he was as absolute in his
system as Sieyes was in his, and preferred losing all to giving up any
thing. The negotiations were broken off in anger. Mounier had
been threatened with the public opinion of Paris, and his adversaries
set out, he said, to exercise that influence with which he had been
menaced.*
* I am far from censuring the obstinacy of Mounier, for nothing i,* more respecta-
ble than conviction ; but its a curious fact to ascertain. Here follows a passao'e
on this subject, extracted from his Report to his Constituents : " Several deputies,"
says he, " resolved to obtain from me the sacrifice of this principle, (the royal sanc-
tion,) or, by sacrificing it themselves, to induce me, out of gratitude, to grant them
some compensation. They took me to the house of a zealous partisan of liberty,
who desired a coalition between them and me, in order that liberty might meet with
fewer obstacles, and who wished merely to be present at our conferences, without
taking any part in the decision. With a view to try to convince them or to en-
lighten myself, I assented to these conferences. They declaimed strongly against the al-
leged inconveniences of the unlimited right which the King would possess to set aside
a new law, and I was assured that, if this right were to be recognised by the Assem-
bly, tliere would be a civil war. These conferences, twice renewed, were unsuccess-
ful ; they were reconnnenced at the house of an American, known lor his abilities
and his virtues, who had both the experience and the theory of the institutions proper
for maintaining liberty. He gave an opinion in favour of my principles. AVhen they
found that all their efforts to make me give up my opinion were useless, they at length
declared that they attached but little importance to the question of the royal sanction,
though they had represented it, a few days before, as a subject for civil war ; they
offered to vote for the unlimited sanction, and to vote also for two chambers, but
upon condition that I would not insist, in behalf of the King, on the right of dissolv-
ing the chamber of representatives ; that I would claim only a suspensive veto for
the first chamber, and that I would not oppose a fundamental law for convoking na-
tional conventions at fixed epochs, or on the requisition of the a.sseinblv of the repre-
sentatives, or on that of the provinces, for the purpose of revising the constitution
and making such changes in it as should be deemed necessary. By nationnl conven-
tions they meant assemblies to which should be transferred all the rights of the nation,
which should combine all the powers, and would consequently have annihilated by
their mere presence the authority of the sovereign and of the ordinary legislature ;
which should have the power to dispose arbitrarily of all sorts of authorities, to over-
throw the constitution at their pleasure, and to re-establish despotism or anarchy.
Lastly, they desired in some measure to leave to a single assembly, which was to be
called the national convention, the supreme dictatorship, and to expose the nation to
a periodical recurrence of factions and tiiinult.
VOL. I. — 12 </ 4
90 HISTORY OF THE
These questions divided the people as well as the representative-?,
and if they did not comprehend them, they attacked or defended
them with not the less warmtli. They summed them all up in the
short and expeditious term veto. They apj)roved or disapproved the
veto, and this signified that they wished or did not wish for tyranny.
The populace, without even understanding this, took the veto for a tax
which ought to be abolished, or an enemy that ought to be hung;, and
were eager to consign him to the lamp-post.*
The Palais Royal, in particular, was in the greatest fermentation
Men of ardent minds assembled there, who, spurning even the forms
imposed in the districts, mounted a chair, began their uncalled-for ha-
rangues, and were hissed or borne in triumph by an immense crowd,
which hastened to execute what they proposed. There, Camille Des-
moulins, already mentioned in this history, distinguished himself by
the energy, originality, and cynical turn of his mind ; and, without be-
ing cruel himself, he demanded cruelties. There, too, was seen St.
Hurugue, an ancient marquis, long imprisoned in the Bastille on ac-
count of family quarrels, and incensed to madness against the supreme
authority. There it was every day repeated, that they ought all to go
to Versailles, to call the King and the Assembly to account for their
hesitation to secure the welfare of the people. Lafayette had the
greatest difficulty to keep them within bounds by continual patroles.
The national guard was already accused of aristocracy. " There
was no patrol at the Ceramicus," observed Desmoulins. The name
of Cromwell had already been pronounced along with that of Lafay-
ette. One day, it was Sunday, the 30th of August, a motion was
made at the Palais Royal ; Mounier was accused, Mirabeau represent-
ed to be in danger, and it was proposed to proceed to Versailles, to
ensure the pei'sonal safety of the latter. Mirabeau, nevertheless, de-
fended the sanction, but without relinquishing his office as a popular
tribune, and without appearing less such in the eyes of the multitude.
St. Hurugue, followed by a few hot-headed persons, took the road to
Versailles. They intended, they said, to prevail upon the Assembly
to expel its unfaithful representatives, that others might be elected,
and to entreat the King and the Dauphin to remove to Paris, and to
place themselves in safety amidst the people. Lafayette hastened af-
ter them, stopped them, and obliged them to turn back. On the fol-
lowing day, 3Ionday, the 31st, they again met. They drew up an ad-
dress to the commune, in which they demanded the convocation of the
'' I expressed my surprise that they should wish to engage me in a negotiation
concerning the interests of the kingdom, as if we were its absohUe masters. I ob-
served that, in leaving only the suspensive veto to a first chamber, if it were com-
posed of eligible members, it would be found difficult to form it of persons worthy
of the public confidence ; in this case all the citizens would prefer being elected re-
presentatives ; and that the chamber, being the judge of state offences, ought to pos-
sess a very great dignity, and consequently that its authority ought not to be less
than that of the other chamber. Lastly, I added that, when I believed a principle to
be true, I felt bound to defend it, and that I could not barter it away, since truth be-
longed to all citizens."
* Two countrymen were talking of the veto. " Dost thou know," said one of
them, " what the veto is?"—" No, not I."—" Well then, thou hast thy basin full of
soup : the King says to thee, ' Spill thy soup,' and thou art forced to spill it."
I
FRENCH REVOLUTION. .91
districts, in order to condemn the veto, to censure the deputies who
supported it, to casliior them, and to nominate others in their stead.
The commune repulsed tliem twice with the greatest firmness.
Agitation meanwhile pervaded the Assembly. Letters full of threats
and invectives had been sent to the principal deputies ; one of these
was signed with the name of St. Ilurugue. On iMonday, the 31st, at
the opening of the sitting, Lally denounced a deputation which he
had received from the Palais Royal. This deputation had exhorted
jiim to separate himself from the bad citizens who defended the veto,
anJ added, that an army of twenty thousand men was ready to march.
Mounier also read letters which he had received, proposed that search
should be made for the secret authors of these machinations, and
urged the Assembly to offer five hundred thousand francs to any' one
who should denounce them. The discussion was tumultuous. Du-
])ort maintained that it was beneath the dignity of the Assembly to di-
r,^ct its attention to such matters. ^lirabeau, too, read letters address-
ed to him, in which the enemies of the popular cause treated him no
b .'tter than they had treated 3Iounier. The Assembly passed to the
order of the day, and St. Ilurugue, having signed one of the denounced
letters, was imprisoned by order of the commune.
The three questions, concerning the permanence of the assemblies,
the two chambers, and the veto, were discussed at once. The perma-
nence of the Assembly was voted almost unanimously. The jieople
had suffered too much from the long interruption of the national as-
semblies, not to render them permanent. Tlie great question of the
unity of the legislative body was then taken up. The tribunes were
occupied by a numerous and noisy midtitude. 3Iany of the deputies
withdrew. The president, then the bishop of Langres, strove in vain
to stop them ; they went away in great numbers. Loud cries from all
quarters required that the question should be put to the vote. Lally
claimed permission to speak again ; it was refused, and the president
was accused of having sent him to the tribune. One member even
Wi.'Ut so far as to ask the president if he was not tii'ed of annoying the
Assembly. Offended at this expression, the president left the chair,
and the discussion was again adjourned. On the following day, the
lOth of September, an address was read from the city of Rennes, de-
claring the veto to be inadmissible, and those who should vote for it
traitors to the country. Mounier and his partisans were exasperated,
and proposed to reprove the municipality. Mirabeau replied, that it
was not the province of the Assembly to lecture municipal officers,
and that it would be right to pass to the order of the day. This ques-
tion of the two chambers was finally put to the vote, and the unity of
the Assembly was decreed amidst tumultuous applause. Four hun-
dred and ninety-eight votes were in favour of one chamber, ninetv-
nine in favour of two, and one hundred and twenty-two votes were
lost owing to the apprehensions excited in many of the deputies.
The question of the veto at length came on. A middle term had
been found in the suspensive veto, which should suspend the law, but
only for a time, during one or more sessions. This was considered as
an ai)[)eal to the people, because the King, recurring to new assem-
^
HISTORY OF THE
blies, and yielding to them if they persisted, seemed in reality to ap-
peal from them to the national authority. Mounier and his party op-
posed this : they were right with reference to the system of the En-
glish monarchy, where the king consults the national representation,
and never obeys it ; hut they were wrong in the situation in which
they were placed. Their only object had been, they said, to prevent
a too hasty resolution. Now the suspensive veto produced this effect
quite as effectually as the absolute veto. If the representation should
persist, the national will would be made manifest, and whilst admitting
its sovereignty, it was ridiculous to resist it indefinitely.
The ministry actually felt that the suspensive veto produced mate-
rially the effect of the absolute veto, and Necker advised the King to
secure to himself the advantages of a voluntary sacrifice, by address-
ing a memorial to the Assembly, desiring the suspensive veto. A ru-
mour of this got abroad, and the object and spirit of the memorial
were known beforehand. It was presented on the 11th ; every body
was acquainted with its purport. It would appear that Mouniei-, sup-
porting the interests of the throne, ought not to have had any other
views than the throne itself: but parties very soon have an interest
distinct from those whom they serve. Mounier was for rejecting this
communication, alleging that, if the King renounced a prerogative
beneficial to the nation, it ought to be given to him in spite of himself,
and for the public interest. The parts were now reversed, and the
adversaries of the Kintj maintained on this occasion his risfht of in-
terference. Fresli explanations were entered into respecting the word
sanction: the question, whether it should be necessary for the consti-
tution, was discussed. After specifying that the constituting power
was superior to the constituted powers, it was determined that the
sanction could be exercised only upon legislative acts, but by no
means upon constitutive acts, and that the latter should only be pro-
mulgated. Six hundred and seventy-three votes were in favour of the
suspensive veto, three hundred and fifty-five for the absolute veto. Thus
the fundamental articles of the new constitution were determined
upon. Mounier and Lally-Tollendal immediately resigned their pla-
ces as members of the committee of constitution.
Up to this time, a great number of decrees had been passed, with-
out being submitted to the royal acceptance. It was resolved to pre-
sent to the King the articles of the fourth of August. The question
to be decided was, whether they should apply for the sanction or the
mere promulgation, considering them as legislative or constitutive
acts. Maury and even Lally-Tollendal were indiscreet enough to
maintain that they were legislative, and to require the sanction, as if
they had expected some obstacle from the royal power. Mirabeau,
with rare justice, asserted that some abolished the feudal system, and
were eminently constitutive ; that others were apure munificence on the
part of the nobility and clergy, and that, undoubtedly, the clergy and
the nobility did not wish the King to revoke their liberality. Chape-
lier added, that there was not even any occasion to suppose the con-
sent of the King to be necessary, as he had already approved them by
accepting the title of restorer of French liberty, and attending the Te
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 93
Deum. The King was in consequence solicited to make a mere pro-
mulgation.
A member all at once proposed the hereditary transmission of the
crown and the inviolability of the royal person. The Assembly,
wliicli sincerely wished for the King as its hereditary first magistrat",
voted these two articles by acclamation. The inviolability of the iieir
presumptive was proposed ; but the Duke de Mortemart instantly re-
ni;irkpd that sons had sometimes endeavoured to dethrone tlieir fathers,
and that they ought to reserve to themselves the means of punishing
tliem. On this ground the proposal was rejected. Witli respect to
the article on the hereditary descent from male to male and from l)raneli
to branch, Arnoult proposed to confirm the renunciations of the Span-
ish branch made in the treaty of Utrecht. It was urged that there
was no occasion to discuss this point, because they ought not to alien-
ate a faithful ally. Mirabeau supported this opinion, and the Assem-
Ijly passed to the order of the day. All at once Mirabeau, for the pur-
pose of making an experiment that was ill-judijed, attempted to bring
forward the very question which he had himself contributed to silence.
The house of Orleans would become a competitor with the Spanish
house, in case of the extinction of the reigning branch. Mirabeau
liad observed an extraordinary eagerness to pass to the order of the
Adj. A stranger to the Duke of Orleans, though familiar with him,
as he could be with every body, he nevertheless wished to ascertain
the state of parties, and to discover who were the friends and the ene-
mies of the duke. The question of a regency came forward. In case
of minority, the King's brothers could not be guardians of theirncj)hew,
as heirs to the royal ward, and not being interested in his preservation.
The regency, therefore, would belong to the nearest relative ; this was
eitiier the Queen, or the Duke of Orleans, or the Spanish family.
.Mirabeau then proposed that the regency sliould not be given to any
l)iit a man born in France. " My acquaintance," said he, " with the
geography of the Assembly, the point whence proceeded those cries
for the order of the day, prove to me that tlie question here is nothing
less than that of a foreign domination, and that the proposition not to
deliberate, apparently Spanish, is perhaps an Austrian proposition."
Loud cries succeeded these words ; the discussion recommenced
with extraordinary violence ; all the opposers again called for the or-
der of the day. To no purpose did Mirabeau every moment repeat
tliat thev could have but one motive, that of brinsinjr a foreign domi-
nation mto France ; they made no reply, because, in fact, they would
have preferred a foreigner to the Duke of Orleans. At length, after a
debate of two days, it was again decided that there was no occasion
to deliberate. IJut Mirabeau had attained his object, in making the
parties declare themselves. This experiment could not fail to draw
down accusations upon him, and he passed thenceforward for an agent
of the Orleans party.*
"Tlie particulars o^ Mirabcau's conduct towards all the parties are not yet tlio-
nmshly known, but they are soon likely to be. I have obtained positive infonnation
iVoui the very persons who intend to publish them : I have had in mv hands several
nuportant documents, and especially the paper written in the form of a proressioii of
94 HiSTOnV O? TlIK
While yet strongly agitated bv this di.^ciiysioii, tlio Assembly recei-
ved the King's answer to tlie articles of the 4llr of August. Tlie King
approved of their spirit, but gave only a conditional adhesion to
some of them, in the hope that they would be modified on being
carried into execution : he renewed, with regard to most, the objec-
tions made in the discussion and set aside by the Assembly. Mira-
beau again appeared at the tribune. " We have not," said he,
" yet examined the superiority of the constituent power over the ex-
ecutive power : we have, in some measure, thrown a veil over these
questions [the Assembly had, in fact, explained for itself the manner in
which they were to be understood, without passing any resolution on
the subject] ; but, if our constituent power were to be contested, we
should be obliged to declare it. Let us act in this case frankly and
with good faith. We admit that there would be difficulties in the
execution, but we do not insist upon it. Thus we demand the abolition
of offices, but assign for the future a compensation, and a pledge for
faitli, which constituted his secret treaty with the court. I am not allowed to give to
tlie public any of these documents, or to mention the names of the holders. I can
only affirm what the future will sufficiently demonstrate, when all these papers shall
have been published. What I am enabled to assert with sincerity is, that Alirabeau
never had any hand in the supposed plots of the Duke of Orleans. Mirabeau left
Provence with a single object, that of combating arbitrary power, by which he had
suftered, and which his reason as well as his sentiments taught him to consider as de-
testable. On his arrival in Paris, he frequented the house of a banker, at that time
well known, and a man of great merit. The company there conversed nnich on poli-
tics, finances, and political economy. There he picked up a good deal of information
on those matters, and he connected himself with what was called the exiled Ciene-
vese colony, of which Clavicres, afterwards minister of the finances, was a member.
Mirabeau, however, formed no intimate connexion, hi his manners there was a
great familiarity, which originated in a feeling of his strength — a feeling that he fre-
quently carried to imprudence. Owing to this familiarity, he accosted every body,
and seemed to be on the best terms with all whom he addressed. Hence it was, tluit
he was frequently supposed to be the friend and accomplice of many persons with
whom he had no common interest. I have said, and I repeat it, he had no party.
The aristocracy could not think of Mirabeau; the party of Necker and Mounier
could not comprehend him ; the Duke of Orleans alone appeared to unite with him.
He was believed to do so, because Mirabeau treated the duke in a familiar maimer,
and. both being supposed to possess great ambition, the one as prince, the other as
tribune, it appeared but natural that they should be connected. Mirabeau's dis-
tress, and the wealth of the Duke of Orleans, seemed also to be a reciprocal motive of
alliance. Nevertheless, Mirabeau remained poor till his connexion with The court.
He then watched all the parties, strove to make them explain themselves, and was
loo sensible of his own importance to pledge himself lightly. Once only there was
a commencement of intercourse between him and one of the supposed agents of
the Duke of Orleans. By this reputed agent he was invited to dinner, and he, who
was never afraid to venture himself, accepted the invitation, more from curiosity than
any other motive. Before he went, he communicated the circumstance to his intimate
confulaiit, and seemed much pleased at the prospect of this interview, which led him
to hope for important revelations. The dinner took place, and Mirabeau, on his
r<'turii, related what had passed : there had been only some vague conversation con-
cerniii;.' the Duke of Orleans, the esteem in which he held the talents of Mirabeau, and
the fitness which he supposed him to possess for governing a state. This interview,
tlierefore, was absolutely insignificant, and it seems to indicate at most a disposition
to make Mirabeau a minister. Accordingly, he did not fail to observe to his friend,
with his usual gayety, " I am quite sure to be minister, since both the King and
the Duke of Orleans are equally desirous to ajipoint me." This ^vas but a joke:
Mirabeau himself never put any faith in the projects of the duke. I shall explain
some other particulars in a succeeding note.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 95
the compensation ; we declare the impost which supphcs the salaries
of the clergy destructive of agriculture, but, till a substitute is provided,
we direct the collection of tithes ; we abolish seignorial courts, but
allow them to exist till other tribunals are establisiied. The same
is the case with other articles : all of them involve only such prin-
ciples as it is necessary to render irrevocable by promulgating them.
Let us ingenuously repeat to the King, what the fool of Philip II. said
to that most absolute prince : ' What would become of thee, Philip, if
all the world were to say yes, when thou sayest no V "
The Assembly again directed the president to wait upon the King
to solicit of him his promulgation. The King granted it. The As-
sembly, on its part, deliberating on the duration of the suspensive veto,
extended it to two sessions. But it was wrong to let it be seen that
this was, in some sort, a recompense given to Louis XV^L for the con-
cessions that he had just made to the public opinion.
While the Assembly pursued its course amidst obstacles raised by
the ill-will of the privileged orders and by the popular commotions,
other embarrassments thronged to meet it, and its enemies exuhed
over them. They hoped that it would be stopped short by the wretched
state of the finances, as the court itself had been. The first loan of thirty-
millions had not succeeded ; a second of eighty, ordered agreeably to
a new plan of Necker, had not been attended with happier results.
" Go on discussing," said M. Degouy d'Arcy one day, " throw in de-
lays, and at the expiration of those delays we shall no longir be ... .
. . . I have just heard fearful truths." — "Order! order !" exclaimed
some. " No, no, speak ;" rejoined others. A deputy rose. " Pro-
ceed," said he to M. Degouy ; " spread around alarm and terror.
What will be the consequence'? We shall give part of our fortune,
and all will be over." M. Degouy continued : " The loans which you
have voted have produced nothing; there are not ten millions in the ex-
chequer." At these words, he was again surrounded, censured, and re-
duced to silence. The Duke d'Aiguillon, president of the committee
of the finances, contradicted him, and proved that there must be twenty-
two millions in thecoftersofthe state. It was, nevertheless, resolved that
Fridays and Saturdays should be specially devoted to the finances.
Necker at length arrived. Ill with his incessant efforts, he renewed
his everlasting complaints : he reproached the Assembly with having
done nothuig for the finances after a session of five months. The two
loans had failed, because disturbances had destroyed public credit.
Large sums of money were concealed; the capital of foreigners had
been withlield from the proposed loans. Emigration and absence of
travellers had also served to decrease the circulating medium, so that
there was actually not enough left for the daily wants. The King and
the Queen had been obliged to send thier plate to the mint. Necker,
in consequence, demanded an instalment of one fourth of the revenue,
declaring that these means appeared to him to be sufficient. A com-
mittee took thre9^ days to examine this plan and entirely approved of it.
Mirabeau, a known enemy to the minister, was the first to speak, for
the purpose of exhorting the Assendjiy toagree to this plan without dis-
cussion. " Not having time," said he, to investigate it, the Assem-
96 HISTORY OF THE
y
bly ought not to take i\pon itself the responsibihty of the event, by
approviiKg- or disapproving the proposed expedients." On this ground
he advised that it should be voted immediately and with confidence.
The Assembly, hurried away by his arguments, adopted this proposal,
and directed Mirabeau to retire and draw up the decree. Meanwhile,
the enthusiasm began to subside ; the minister's enemies pretended to
discover resources where he could find none. His friends, on the con-
trary, attacked Mirabeau, and complained that he wanted to crush
him under the responsibility which events might throw upon him.
Mirabeau returned and read his decree. " You murder the minister's
plan," exclaimed M. de Virieu. Mirabeau, who was not in the habit
of receding without a reply, frankly avowed his motive, and admitted
that those had guessed it who alleged, that he wished to throw
on M. Necker alone the responsibility ; he said that he had not the
honour to be his friend, but that, were he his most affectionate friend,
he, a citizen above all things, would not hesitate to compromise him
rather than the Assembly ; that he did not believe the kingdom to be
in danger, though M. Necker should prove to be mistaken ; and that,
on the other hand, the public welfare would be deeply compromised, if
the Assembly had lost its credit and failed in a decisive operation.
He immediately proposed an address to rouse the national patriotism,
and to support the plan of the minister.
He was appiuuded, but the discussion was continued. A thousand
propositions were made, and time was wasted in vain subtleties.
Weary of so many contradictions, impressed with the urgency of the
public wants, he ascended the tribune for the last time, took possession
of it, again expounded the question with admirable precision, and
showed the impossibility of retreating from the necessity of the
moment. His imagination warming as he proceeded, he painted the
horrors of bankruptcy ; he exhibited it as a ruinous tax, which, instead
of pressing lightly upon all, falls only upon some, whom it crushes by
its weight ; he then described it as a gulf into which living victims are
thrown, and which does not close again even after devouring them ;
for we owe none the less even after we have refused to pay. As he
concluded, he thrilled the Assembly with terror. " The other day,"
said he, " when a ridiculous motion was made at the Palais Royal,
some one exclaimed ' Catiline is at the gates of Rome, and you de-
liberate!' but most assuredly there was neither Catiline, nor danger,
nor Rome ; and to-day hideous bankruptcy is here, threatening to
consume you, your honour, your fortunes — and you deliberate !"
At these words, the transported Assembly rose with shouts of enthu-
siasm. A deputy prepared to reply ; he advanced, but, afirighted at
the task, he stood motionless and speechless. The Assembly then de-
clared that, having heard the report of the committee, it adopted in
confidence the plan of the minister of the finances. This was a happy
stroke of eloquence; but he alone would be capable of it, who should
possess the reason as well as the passions of Mirabeau.
While the Assembly thus laid violent hands upon all parts of the
edifice, important events were arising. By the union of the orders, the
nation had recovered the legislative omnipotence. By the 14th of
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 97
July it had taken arms in support of its representatives. Thus the
King and the aristocracy remained separated and disarmed, with the
mere opinion of their rights in wliich no one participated, and in
presence of a nation ready to conceive every tiling, and to execute
every thing. The court, however, secluded in a small town, peopled
entirely by its servants was in some respect beyond the popular influ-
ence, and could even attempt a coup de main against the Assembly.
It was natural that Paris, but a few leagues distant from Versailles —
Paris, the capital of the kingdom — should wish to draw the King back
to its bosom, in order to remove him from all aristocratic influence, and
to recover the advantages which a city derives from the presence of
the court and of the government. After curtailing the authority of
the King, all that it had left to do was to make sure of his person.
The course of events favoured this wish, and from all quarters was
heard the cry of" The King to Paris !" The aristocracy ceased to
think of defending: itself aa^ainst fresh losses. It felt too much dis-
dain for what was left it, to care about preserving that ; it was there-
fore desirous of a violent change, just like the popular party. A re-
volution is infallible, Avhen two parties join in desiring it. Both con-
tribute to the event, and the stronger profits by the result. AVhile the
patriots wished to bring the King to Paris, the court had it in con-
templation to carry him to Metz. There, in a fortress, it might order
all that it pleased, or to speak more correctly, all that others should
please for it. The courtiers formed plans, circulated projects, strove
to enlist partisans ; and, indulging vain hopes, betrayed themselves
by imprudent threats. D'Estaing, formerly so renowned at the head
of our fleets, commanded the national guard of Versailles. He de-
sired to be faithful both to the nation and to the court ; a difficult
part, which is always exposed to calumny, and which great firmness
alone can render honourable. lie learned the machinations of the
courtiers. The highest personages were involved in them ; witnesses
most worthy of belief had been mentioned to him, and he addressed
to the Queen his celebrated letter, in which he expatiated with re-
spectfjl firmness on the impropriety and danger of such intrigues.
He disguised nothing, and mentioned every person by name.* The
* The letter of Count d'Estaiiiir to the Queen is a curious document, wliich must
ever continue to be consulted relative to the eveiUs of the 5th and Btli of October.
This brave olTicer, full of loyalty and independence, (two qualities which appear con-
tradictory, but which are frequently found combined in seamen,) had retained the
habit of saying all he thought to the princes to whom he was attached. His testi-
mony cannot he called in (juestion, when in a contidential letter to the Q.ueen he
lays open the intrigues which he has discovered, and which have alarmed him. It
will be seen whether the court was actually without plan at that period :
" It is necessary — my duty and my loyalty require it — that I should lay at the feet
of the Queen the accouiU of the visit wliich I have paid to Paris. I am praised for
sleeping soundly the night before an assault or a naval engagement. I venture to
assert that I am not timorous in civil matters. Brought up about the person of the
dauphin who distinguished ine, accustomed from my childhood to speak the truth at
Versailles, a soldier af^d a seaman, ac(juainted with forms, I respect without permit-
ting them to affect either my frankness or my firmness.
" Well then, I must confess to your majesty that I did not close my eyes all night.
I was told, in good society, in good company — and, gracious Heaven I what would
VOL. I. — 13 3
98 HISTORY OF THE
letter had no effect. In venturing upon such enterprises, the Queen must
have expected remonstrances, and coukl not have been surprised atthem.
About the same period, a great number of new faces appeared at
Versailles ; nay, even strange uniforms were seen there. The com-
pany of the life-guard, whose term of duty had just expired, was
retained ; some dragoons and chasseurs of the Trois-Eveches were
sent for. The French guards, who had quitted the King's duty, irrita-
ted at its being assigned to others, talked of going to Versailles to re-
sume it. Assuredly they had no reason whatever to complain, since
they had of themselves relinquished that duty. But they were insti-
gated, it is said, to this purpose. It was asserted at the time that the
court wished by this contrivance to alarm the King, and to prevail on
him to remove to Metz. One fact affords sufficient proof of this in-
tention : ever since the commotions at the Palais Royal, Lafayette had
placed a post at Sevres, to defend the passage between Paris and Ver-
bs the consequenco if this were to be circulated among the people ? — I was repeat-
edly told tiiat signatures were being collected among the clergy and the nobility.
Some assert that this is done with the approbation of the King, others believe that it
is without his knowledge. It is affirmed that a plan is formed, that it is by Cham-
pagne or Verdun that the King is to retire or to be carried off; that he is going to
Metz. M. de Bouiile is named, and by whom ? — By M. de Lafayette, who told me
so in a whisper at dinner, at M. Jauge's. I trembled lest a single domestic should
overhear him : I observed to him, that a word from his lips might become the signal
of death. He replied that at iVIetz, as every where else, the patriots were the
stronger party, and that it was better that one should die for the welfare of all.
" The Baron de Breteuil, who delays his departure, conducts the plan, flioney is
taken up at usurious interest, and promises are made to furnish a million and a half
per month Tlie Count de Mercy is unfortunately mentioned as acting in concert.
Such are the rumours; if they spread to the people, their effects are incalculable:
they are still but whispered about. Upright minds have appeared to nie to be alarmed
for tlie consequences: the mere doubt of the reality is liable to produce terrible
results. I have been to the Spanish ambassador's — and most certainly I shall not
conceal it from the Ciueen — there iny apprehensions were aggravated. M. Fernand
Nunez conversed with me on the sidjject of these false reports, and how horrible it
was to suppose an impossible plan, which would produce the most disastrous and the
most humiliating of civil wars ; which would cause the partition or the total ruin of
the monarchy, that must fall a prey to domestic rage and foreign ambition ; and which
would bring irreparable calamities on the persons most dear to France. After speak-
ing of the court wandering, pursued, and deceived by those who have not supported
it when they could, who now wish to involve it in their fall . . . afflicted by a
general bankruptcy, then become indispensable, and most frightful . . . I oii-
served that at least there would be no other mischief than what this false report would
produce, if it were to spread, because it was an idea without any foundation. The
Spanish ambassador cast down his eyes at this last expression. I became urgent :
he then admitted that a person of distinction and veracity had told him that he had
been solicited to sign an association. He refused to name him ; but, either from inat-
tention, or for the good of the cause, he luckily did not require my word of honour,
which I must have kept. I have not promised not to divulge this circumstance to
any one. It fills me with such terror as I have never yet known. It is not for my-
self that I feel it. I implore the Queen to calculate, in her wisdom, all that might
result from one false step: the first costs dear enough. I have seen the kind heart of
the Cineen bestow tears on the fate of immolated victims: now it would be streams
of blood spilt to no purpose, that she would have to regret. A mere indecision may
be without remedy. It is only by breasting the torrent, not by humouring it, that one
can succeed in partly directing it. Nothing is lost. The Cineen can conquer this
kingdom for the King. Nature has lavished upon her the means of doing it; they
alone are practicable. She may imitate her august mother: if not, I am silent. . .
. . . [ implore your majesty to grant me an audience some day this week."
I
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 99
saillcs. Lafayette found means to stop the French guards, and to di-
vert them from their purpose. He wrote coiifidentially to St. Priest,
the minister, to inform him of what had passed, and to allay all appre-
hensions. St. Priest, abusing the confidence of Lafiiyette, showed the
letter to D'Estaing, who cominnnicafcd it to the officers of the national
guard of Versailles and the municipality, in order to apprize them of
the dangers which threatened and might still threaten that town. It
was proposed to send for the Flanders regiment ; a great number ot
battalions of the Versailles guard were adverse to this measure ; the
municipality nevertheless presented its requisition, and the regiment
was sent for. One regiment against the Assembly was no great matter,
but it would be enough to carry off the King, and to protect his flight.
D'Estaing informed the National Assembly of the measures that had
been adopted, and obtained its approbation. The regiment arrived :
the military train that followed it, though inconsiderable, did not fail to
excite murmurs. The life-guards and the courtiers sought the society
of the officers, loaded them with attentions, and they appeared, as pre-
viously to the 14th of July, to coalesce, to harmonize, and to conceive
great hopes.
The confidence of the court increased the distrust of Paris ; and
entertainments soon exasperated the sufferings of the populace. On
the 2d of October, the life-guards gave a dinner to the officers of the
garrison. It Avas held in the theatre. The boxes were filled with
spectators belonging to the court. The officers of the national guard
were among the guests. Much gaiety prevailed during the repast, and
the wine soon raised it to exaltation. The soldiers of the regiments
were then introduced. The company, with drawn swords, drank the
health of the royal family ; the toast of the nation was refused — or,
at least, omitted ; the trumpets sounded a charge ; the boxes were
scaled with loud shouts : the expressive and celebrated song, " O
Richard ! 8 mon roi ! I'univers t'abandonne," was sung ; they vowed
to die for the King, as if he had been in the most imminent danger :
in short, the delirium had no bounds. Cockades, white or black, but
all of a single colour, were distributed. The young women, as well as
the young men, were animated with chivalrous recollections. At this
moment, it is said, the national cockade was ti'odden under foot. This
tact has since been denied ; but does not wine render every thing cre-
dible — every thing excusable? Besides, of what use were these meet-
ings, which produce on the one side but an illusory zeal, and excite
on the other a real and terrible irritation ? At this juncture some
one ran to the Queen ; she consented to come to the entertainment.
A number of persons surrounded the King, who was just returning
from hunting, and he too was drawn thither : the company threw
themselves at the feet of both, and escorted them, as in trium])h, to
their apartments. It is soothing, no doubt, to those who regard them-
selves as stripped of their authority and threatened, to meet with
friends ; but why should they thus deceive themselves in regard to
their rights, their strength, or their means 1*
" " Such was this famous banquet which the court had the imprudence to renew on
the 3d of October. We cannot but deplore its fatal want of foresight; itknew neither
100 * HISTORY OF THE
The report of this entertainment soon spread, and no doubt the
popular imaj^ination, in relating the circumstances, added its own ex-
aggerations to those which the event itself had produced. The pro-
mises made to the Kinof were construed as threats held out to the na-
tion ; this prodigality was considered as an insult to the public dis-
tress, and the shouts of " To Versailles !" were renewed with more
vehemence than ever. Thus petty causes concurred to strengthen the
effect of general causes. Young men appeared in Paris with black
cockades ; they were pursued : one of them was dragged away by the
people, and the commune was obliged to prohibit cockades of a single
colour.
The day after this unfortunate dinner, a nearly similar scene took
place at a breakfast given by the life-guards. The company presented
themselves, as on the former occasion, before the Queen, who said
that she had been quite delighted with the dinner of Thursday. She
was eagerly listened to ; because, less reserved than the King, the
avowal of the sentiments of the court was expected from her lips.
Every word she uttered was repeated. Irritation was at its height,
and the most calamitous events might be anticipated. A commotion
was convenient to the people and to the court : to the people, in order
that they might seize the person of the King ; to the court, that terror
might drive him to Metz. It was also convenient to the Duke of Or-
leans, who hoped to obtain the lieutenancy of the kingdom, if the
King should withdraw ; nay, it has been said that this prince went so
far as to hope for the crown, which is scarcely credible, for he had
not a spirit bold enough for so high an ambition. The advantages
which he had reason to expect from this new insurrection, have brought
upon him the charge of having had a hand in it ; but this is unfound-
ed. He cannot have communicated the impulse, for it resulted from
the force of circumstances : he appeared at most to have seconded it ;
and even on this point, an immense body of evidence, and time, which
explains every thing, have brought to light no trace of a concerted
plan. No doubt, on this occasion, as during the whole revolution, the
Duke of Orleans was merely following in the train of the popular
movement, scattering, perhaps, a little money, giving rise to rumours,
and having himself but vague hopes.
The populace, agitated by the discussions on the veto, irritated by
the black cockades, annoyed by the continual patroles, and suffering
from hunger, was in commotion. Bailly and Necker had neglected
no means of procuring an abundant supply of provisions ; but, either
from the difficulty of conveyance, or the pillage which took place by
the way, and, above all, by the impossibility of making amends for
the spontaneous movement of commerce, there was still a scai'city of
how to submit to its destiny, nor how to change it. The assembling of a military
force, far from preventing the aggression of Paris, provoked it. The banquet did
not render the devotedness of the soldiers more certain, while it increased the disaf-
fection of the multitude. To guard itself there was no necessity for so much ardour ;
nor for flight, so much preparation; but the court never took tlie proper measure for
the success of its designs, or it took only half measures, and delayed its final decision
till it was too late." — 3Ii^net. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 101
flour. On the 4th of October, the agitation was greater than ever.
People talked of the departure of the King for Metz, and the necessi-
ty of going to fetch him from Versailles ; they kept an eager look-out
for black cockades, and vociferously demanded bread! Numerous
patroles succeeded in preventing tumult. The night passed off" quietly.
In the morning of the following day crowds began again to assemble.
The women went to the baker's shops ; there was a want of bread,
and they ran to the square in which the Hotel de Ville is situated, to
complain of it to the representatives of the commune. The latter had
not yet met, and a battalion of the national guard was drawn up in
the place of the Hutel de Ville. A number of men joined these wo-
men, but they refused their assistance, saying that men were unfit to
act. They then rushed upon the battalion, and drove it back by a
volley of stones. At this moment a door was forced open ; the wo-
men poured into the Hotel de Ville ; brigands, with pikes, hurried in
along with them, and would have set fire to the building. They were
kept back, but they succeeded in taking possession of the door leading
to the great bell, and sounded the tocsin. The fauxbourgs were in-
stantly in motion. A citizen named Maillard, one of those who had
signalized themselves at the capture of the Bastille, consulted the of-
ficer commanding the battalion of the national guard upon the means
of clearing the HStel de Ville of these furious women. The officer
durst not approve the expedient which he proposed ; it was to collect
them together, under the pretext of going to Versailles, but without
leading them thither. Maillard, nevertheless, determined to adopt it,
took a drum, and soon drew them off" after him. They were armed
with bludgeons, broomsticks, muskets, and cutlasses. With this sin-
gular army he proceeded along the quay, crossed the Louvre, was
forced, in spite of his teeth, to lead them along the Tuilleries, and ar-
rived at the Champs Elysees. Here he succeeded in disarming them,
by representing to them that it would be better to appear before the
Assembly as petitioners than as furies with weapons. They assented,
and Maillard was obliged to conduct them to Versailles, for it was now
imposssible to dissuade them from proceeding thither. To that point
all were at this moment directing their course. Some hordes set out,
dragging with them pieces of cannon ; others surrounded the national
guard, which itself surrounded its conmiander, to prevail on him to go
to Versailles, the goal of all wishes.
Meanwhile the court remained tranquil, but the Assembly had re-
ceived a message from the King which occasioned much tumult. It
had presented for his acceptance the constitutional articles and the
declaration of rights. The answer was to be a mere simple accep-
tance, with a promise to promulgate. For the second time, the King,
without clearly explaining himself, addressed observations to the As-
sembly ; he signified his accession to the constitutional articles, with-
out however approving of them ; he found excellent maxims in the
declaration of rights, but they needed explanation ; in short, he said a
proper judgment could not be formed of the whole till the constitution
should be entirely completed. This was certainly a tenable opinion ;
it was held by many political writers, as well as the King, but was it
102 HISTORY OF THE
prudent to express it at tliis particular moment 1 No sooner was tliis
declaration read, than complaints arose. Robespierre* said that it was
* The following sketcli of Robespierre, who, from the period of the bnnqnet of the
2d of October, began to make his influence felt in the revolutionary clubs, is derived
from the Biographic Mudcrne : " Ala.ximilien Isidore Robespierre was born in Arras
in 1759. 11 is father, a barrister in tiie superior council of Artois, liavin^ ruined
himself by his prodigality, left France long before the Revolution, established a
school for tlie French at Cologne, and went to Ihigland, and thence to America,
where he suHered liis friends to remain ignorant of his existence. His mother,
whose name was Josepha Carreau, was the daughter of a brewer; she soon died,
leaving her son, then nine years of age, and a brother, who shared bis fate. 'J'lie
Bishop of Arras contributed to send Robespierre to the college of Louis le Grand,
where he got him admitted on the foundation. One ol the professors there, an ad-
mirer of the heroes of Rome, contributed greatly to develop the love of republican-
ism in him ; he surnamed him the Roman, and continually praised his vaunted love
of independence and equality. Assiduous and diligent, he went through his studies
with considerable credit, and gave promise oftalent that he never realized. In 1775.
when Louis XVI. made his entry into Paris, he was chosen by his fellow students to
present to that prince the homage of their gratitude. The political tro'ubh's of ]76S
heated his brain ; he was soon remarked in the revolutionary meetings in 1789 ; and
the tiers-Hat of the province of Artois appointed him one of their deputies to the
States-General. On his arrival at the Assembly he obtained very little influence there ;
however, though the want of eloquence did not permit liiin to vie with the orators
who then shone in the tribune, he began to acqiiire great power over the popidace.
For some time he paid court to Mirabeau, who despised him, yet he accompanied
him so assiduously in the streets and public squares, that he was at last surnamed
Mirabeau's ape. In 1790 he continued to gain power over the rabble, and frequently
spoke in the Assembly. On the King's departure for V^arennes he was disconcerted ;
but as soon as that prince had been arrested, his hopes of overturning the monarchy
increased, and he laboured hard to bring on the insurrections which took place in the
Champ de Mars. He had been for some time coiniected with Alarat and Danton,
and by their help he exercised great authority over the Jacobins, and througli tliem,
over the capital. He w-as inconsequence denounced by the Girondists, who accused
him of aspiring to the dictatorship. He was one of the most strenuous advocates for
the King's trial, and voted for his execution. After overthrowing the party of the
Gironde, he turned against iiis old allies, the Dantonists, whom he brought, together
with their chief leader, to the scattbld, from which time, till his fall, lie reigned without
rivals. He restored the worship of the Supreme Being, which the atheist faction of
theHebertists had succeeded in abolishing. After ruling France for some months with
a rod of iron, he was arrested, together with his partisans, by the Convention, in con-
sequence of having excited the fear and distrust of some of his colleagues CBiilaud-
V'arennes among the number). At the moment when he saw that he was going to
be seized, he tried to destroy himself with a pistol shot, but he only shattered iiis
nuder-jaw. lie was immediately led into the lobby of the meeting-hall, then shiU
up in the Conciergerie, and executed on the 28th of July, 1794. As he was pro-
ceeding to execution, the prisoners obstructing the passage, the gaoler cried out,
'Make way! make way I I .say, for the incorruptible n)an !'— for Robespierre was
always vaunting his disinterestedness. He was carried in a cart placed between
Henriotand Couthon; the shops, the windows, the roofs, were filled with spectators
as he passed along, and cries of joy accompanied him all the way. His head was
wrapped up in a bloody cloth, which supported his inider-jaw, so that his pale and
livid countenance was liut half seen. The horseman who escorted him showed him
to the spectators with the point of their sabres. The niob stopped him before the
house where ho had lived ; some women danced before the court; and one of them
cried out, ' Descend to hell, with the curses of all wives and of all mothers!' The
executioner, when about to put him to dead), roughly tore the dressiiig otV his wound ;
upon which he uttered ;i liorrible cry ; his under-jaw separated from the other; the
blood spouted out ; and bis head presented a most hideous spectacle. He died at the
age of thirty-five. The following epitaph was written for him : ' Passenger, lament
not his fate, for were lie living, tliou wouldst be dead.' Robespierre had not any of
tliose accomplishments or brilliant advantages which seems to command success.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 103
not for the King to criticise the Asscjnbly, and Duport tlmt this answer
iiught to be countersigned by a responsible minister. Petion* took
He was hard and dry, without iiuagination and without courage ; neither could hi>
feeble constitution, liis gloomy coiuitenance, his weak sight, and almost inaudible
Vdi'ie, prepo.^sess or seduce the nuiltitude ; and althouirli, in public speakinir, lie had
by louir habit attained some degree of lacility, he could never contend with the prin-
cipal orators of the Convention : but nature seemed to supply all the resources tl):U
she denied hitn, by granting him the art of profiting at the same time by the talents of
others, and by the faults which they might commit. Strong in his integrity in pecu-
niary matters, he always took care to open the path of honours, and especially of
riches, to his rivals, that he might be furnished with additional means of ruining them,
when tliev became obnoxious to him. Of all the men whom the Revolution brought
into notice, none has left a name so generally abhorred as Robespierre." — E.
In the Miunnirs of the Duchess d'Abrantes, the following highly characteristic anec-
dote of Robespierre is related. " When Madame de Provence quitted France, the
Countess Lamarliere could not accompany her, much as she wished to do so. But
she was a wife and a mother, and to these ties she was obliged to sacrifice the senti-
ments of gratitude which animated her heart. She remained in France to sutler
persecution and misery. She saw her husband arrested at the head of the troops he
commanded, cast into a dungeon, and conducted to the scaffold. She had the courage
to implore the mercy of him who never knew mercy; she threw herself at the feet
of Rohespierre. Madame Lamarliere had then the look of a young woman: a com-
})lexion of dazzling brilliancy, a profusion of fair hair, fine eyes and teeth, could not
f'i)l to renrier her exceedingly attractive. Her beauty was perhaps rather heightened
than diminished by her despair, when she threw herself at the feet of the dictator,
and with a faltering voice implored the pardon of the husband of her child. But the
axe was in the hand of the executioner, and amidst a nuptial festival, liobespierre pro-
nounced the sentence which made a widow and an orphan. It was on that very day,
that Robespierre gave away in marriage the daughter of a carpenter, nanied Duplay,
in whose house he lodged in the Rue St. Honore. This Duplay was president of
the jury on the Queen's trial. The Countess Lamarliere arrived before the hour
fix'id for the marriage ceremony, and she was obliged to wait in the dining-room,
when the table was laid for the nuptial feast. Her feelings may easily be imagined!
Tl'.i're she waited, and was introduced to the carpenter's wife. After she was gone,
Robespierre merely said, ' That woman is very pretty — very pretty indeed,' accom-
panying the observation with some odious remarks." E.
\Ve subjoin the opinion entertained by Lucien Bonaparte, himself an ardent apos-
tle of liberty, respecting Robespierre : "The first months of 171)3 beheld the Jacobins
redouble their atrocities; and Robespierre, the most cruel hypocrite, and greatest
coward of them all, obtained unlimited power. Some anhuit imaginations have not
hesitated to celebrate the praises of that man, and of his Couthonaud St. Just: they
have even dared to insinuate that Robespierre was a patriotic victim, immolated by
various conspirators more guilty than himself They have stated that he fell, because
he would not proceed in the path of crime. These assertions are contradicted bv
facta. The revolutionary tribunal was nevermore active than during the last months
of the power of that merciless tribune. Then were struck with hasty blows all those
whom birth, fortune, or talents, distinguished from the crowd. In the mouth of
April, Malcsherbes, one of the most virtuous of men, was dragged to the sc.itfold at
seventy-two years of age, in the same cart with his sister, liis son-in-law, his daughter,
his grand-daughter, and the husband of that young woman ! Robespierre was then
at the height of his power. Because he afterwards decimated his accomplices, and
because he struck at Danton and his partisans, was he for that reason to be consi-
dered more excusable .' Blood cannot wash away blood ! And as for his festival of
the Supreme Being, what else was it but a contempt for the religion of all French-
men, and a denial of the gospel? Blood was not sufficient for the incorruptible !
He desired even to thrust his sacrilegious hands into the depths of our very con-
science." — Memoirs of the Prince of Canino. E.
* At this period i'etion was one of the most influential men of the Revolution.
He was an advocatJat Chartres, and had been deputed to the States-General by the
<icrs-(7rtf of the bailiwick in that city, and distinguished himself by a thorough zeal
for the revolutionary party. Endowed with a pleasing address and a disposition ever
104 HISTORY OF THE
occasion to refer to the dinner of the hfe-jjuards, and denounced the
imprecations uttered against the Assembly. Gregoire adverted to the
dearth, and inquired why a letter had been sent to a miller with a pro-
mise of two hundred livres a week if he would give up grinding. The
letter proved nothing, for any of the parties might have written it ;
still it excited great tumult, and M. de Monspey proposed that Petion
should sign its denunciation. Mirabeau, who had disapproved in the
tribune itself of the course adopted by Petion and Gregoire, then
came forward to reply to M. de Monspey. " I have been the very
first," said he, " to disapprove of these impolitic denunciations ; but,
since they are insisted upon, I will myself denounce, and I will sign,
when it has been declared that there is nothing inviolable in France
but the King." Silence succeeded to this terrible apostrophe ; and
the Assembly returned to the consideration of the King's answer. It
Avas eleven in the forenoon ; tidings of the movements in Paris arrived.
Mirabeau went up to Mounier, the president, who, recently elected in
spite of the Palais Royal, and threatened with a glorious fall, exhibited
enterprising, although weak in danger, he became, in spite of the mediocrity of his
talents, one of the prime movers in the Revolution. On the 5th of October, he de-
nounced the banquets of the body guards, and seconded the designs of the faction of
Orleans, to which he was then entirely devoted. On the Sth, he proposed giving to
the King the title of ' King of the French by the consent of the Nation,' and sup-
pressing the form of ' by the Grace of God.' In the course of 1790, he supported
the revolutionary party with considerable zeal. On the 4th of December, the Na-
tional Assembly elected him their president. In June following, he was appointed
president of the Criminal Tribunal of Paris. When the Assembly was informed of
the departure of LouisXVI., he was one of the three commissioners appointed to go
to Vareunes after this prince. At the end of September, the Duke of Orleans sent
him to England; and on his return he oljtained the situation of Mayor, of which he
took possession on the 18th of November. It is from this period that his real influ-
ence may be dated, as well as the outrages with which he did not cease to overwhelm
the King, sometimes by handbills, and sometimes through the means of insurrections.
On the 3d of August, he formally demanded of the Assembly, in the name of the Com-
mune, the deposition of Louis. " On the 10th, he took care to be confined at home
by the insurgents under his orders, at tiie very time that his adherents were preparing
to attack the palace. It is doubtful whether Petion were privy to the massacres of
September, although Prudhonmie declares that the mayor, the ministers, &c. were
agreed. Being appointed Deputy of Eure et Loire to the Convention, he was the
first president of that assembly, which, at its first meeting on the 21st of September.
1792, decreed the abolition of royalty. From that time, until the death of Louis
XVI., Petion ascended the tribune'alniost every day to urge the monarch's execution ;
and at this period he also laboured in the interests of the Duke of Orleans, to whose
party he appeared very constantly attached. In November, however, a hatred which
was in the end fatal to him, began to break out between Petion and Robespierre,
although up to that time they had been called the two fingers of the hand. In
Jaiuiary, 1793. he voted for the death of Louis XVI. ; and on the 25th of March he
was appointed a member of the first committee of public safety, and of general de-
fence. From the declarations of General Miaczinski, who had asserted that Petion
-vas concerned in the projects of Dumouriez, occasion was taken — through the
means of Robespierre, Danton. and that party — to form a committee for examining
into his conduct. On the 2d of June, a decree of accusation was passed against
Petion, and onthe2r)th of July he was outlawed because he had succeeded in escap
ing from his own house. In 1794 he was found dead of hunger, or assassinated, and
half devoured by beasts, in a field in the department of Gironde. Petion is said to
have had an air of haughtiness, a fine face, and an affable look." — From the Bio-
graphic Moderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 105
on this melanclioly day unconquerable firmness.* Mirabeau approach-
ed hiin. " Paris," said he, " is inarching upon us ; would it be amiss
to go to the palace to tell the King to accept purely and simply?" —
"Paris is marching!" replied Mounier ; "so much the better ; let
them kill us all — yes, all ! the state will be a gainer by it." — " A very
pretty sentiment indeed !" rejoined Mirabeau, and he returned to his
seat. The discussion continued till three o'clock, and it was decided
that the president should go to the Ring to demand his bare and sim-
ple acceptance. At the moment when Mounier was setting out for the
palace, a deputation was announced : it was Maillard and the women
who had followed him. Maillard desired to be admitted and heard.
He was introduced ; the women rushed in after him, and penetrated
into the hall. He then represented wliat had happened, the scarcity
of bread, and the distress of the people. He mentioned the letter ad-
dressed to the miller, and said that a person whom they met by the
way had told them that a clergyman was charged to denounce it.
This clergyman was Gregoire, and, as we have just seen, it had actu-
ally been denounced by him. A voice then accused Juigne, bishop of
Paris, of being the writer of the letter. Cries of indignation arose to
repel the imputation cast on the virtuous ])relate. Maillard and his
deputation were called to order. He was told that means had been
adopted to supply Paris whh provisions ; that the King had neglected
nothing ; that the Assembly was going to petition Inm to take fresh
measures; that he and his followers must retire; and that disturb-
ance was not the way to put an end to tlie dearth. IMoiinier then re-
tired to proceed to the palace ; but the women surrounded and insisted
on accompanying him. He at first declined, but was obliged to allow
six to go with him. He passed through the mob which had come from
Paris, and which was armed with pikes, hatchets, and sticks pointed
with iron. A heavy rain was falling. A detachment of the life-guards
fell upon the crowd which surrounded the president and dispersed it ;
but the women soon overtook Mounier, and he reached the palace,
where the Flanders regiment, tlie dragoons, the Swiss, and the nation-
al militia of Versailles, were drawn up in order of battle. Instead of
six women, he was obliged to introduce twelve. The King received
them graciously, and deplored their distress. They were affected.
One of them, young and handsome, overawed at the sight of the mo-
* " Mounier was a man of strong judgment and inflexible character, who consi-
dered the system of the Enghsh constitution as the typo of representative govern-
ments, and wished to eliect the Revolution hy accommodation. He, and those who
thought with liim, were called the Monarchists. They desired, besides a chamber of
of representatives, to have a senate whose members should bo nominated by the
King on the presentation of the people. They thought that this was the onlv means
of preventing the tyranny of a single assembly. The majority of the Assembly
would have wished, not a peerage, but an aristocratic assembly, of which it should
nominate the members. They could not then be heard, Mounier's party refusing to
co-operate in a project which would have revived the orders, and the aristocraU
rejecting a senate Avhich would have confirmed the ruin of the noblesse. The
greater number of \Ue deputies of the clergy and of the connuons advocated the
unity of the Assembly. Thus the nobility irom discontent, and the national party
from the spirit of absolute justice, concurred iu rejecting the high chamber." — Mig-
net. E.
VOL. .1 — 14. 3
lOG illSTOKY OF THE
tiarch, could scarcely give utterance to the word Bread! The King,
deeply moved, embraced her, and the women returned softened by this
reception. Their companions received them at the gate of the palace ;
they would not believe their report, declared that they had suffered
themselves to be tampered with, and prepared to tear them in pieces.
The life-guards, commanded by the Count de Guiche, hastened to re-
lease them ; musket-shots were fired from various quarters ; two of
the guards fell, and several of the women were wounded. Not far
from the spot, one of the mob, at the head of a party of women,
forced his way through the ranks of the battalions and advanced to the
iron gate of the palace. M. de Savonnieres pursued him, but he re-
ceived it' ball which broke his arm. These skirmishes produced the
greatest irritation on both sides. The King, apprized of the danger,
sent orders to his guards not to fire, and to retire to their hotel. While
they were retiring, a few shots were exchanged between them and the
national guard of Versailles, and it liever could be ascertained from
which side the first were fired.
Meanwhile the King was holding a council, and Mounier impatient-
ly awaited his answer. He sent word repeatedly that his functions
required his presence with the Assembly, that the news of the sanc-
tion would pacify all minds, that he would retire if an answer were
not brought, for he would not longer absent himself from the post to
which his duties called him. The question discussed in the council
was, whether the King should leave Versailles. The council lasted
from six till ten at night, and the King, it is said, was against leaving
the place vacant for the Duke of Orleans. An attempt was made to
send otf the Queen and the children, but the crowd stopped the carriages
the moment they appeared ; and, besides, the Queen was firmly re-
solved not to leave her husband. At length, about ten o'clock,
Mounier received the bare and simple acceptance, and returned to the
Assembly. The deputies had retired, and the women occupied the
hall. He communicated to them the King's acceptance, with which
they were highly pleased ; and they inquired if they should be the
better for it, and especially if they should have bread. Mounier gave
them the most favourable answer that he could, and directed all the
bread that could be procured to be distributed among them. In the
course of this night, the faults of which it is so difficult to charge
to the right account, the municipality committed the blunder of ne-
glecting to provide for the wants of this famished mob, which had left
I'aris owincr to the want of bread, and which could not since have
found any on the way.
At this moment, intelligence was received of the arrival of Lafay-
ette. For eight hours he had been opposing the national militia of
Paris, who were for proceeding to Versailles. " General," said one of
his grenadiers to him, " you do not deceive us, but you deceive your-
self. Instead of turning our arms against women, let us go to Ver-
sailles to fetch the King, and make sure of his good disposition by
placing him in tiie midst of us." Lafayette had hitherto withstood
the solicitations of his army and the inundation of the mob. His
soldiers were not attached to him by victory, but by opinion ; and,
FRENCH RF.VOLL TIO.N. 107
abandoned by tlieir opinion, he conld no longer control them. He
nevertheless contrived to stop them till night ; bnt his voice reached
only to a small distance, and beyond that, nothing could appease the
fury of the multitude. His life had several times been threatened, and
still he resisted. He knew, nevertheless, that hordes were continually
leaving J'aris, and, as the insurrection was transferring itself to Ver-
sailles^ it became his duty to follow it thither. The commune directed
him to go, fyid at last he set out. By the way, he halted his army,
made it swear to be faithful to the King, and arrived at Versailles
about midnight. He sent word to Mounier that the army had
promised to do its duty, and that nothing should be done contrary
to the law. He hastened to the palace : with every demonstration
of respect and sorrow, he informed the King of the precautions wliich
had been taken, and assured him of his attachment and that of his
army. The King appeared tranquillized, and retired to rest. The
guard of the palace had been refused to Lafayette, and the outposts
alone had been granted to him. The other posts were destined for
the Flanders regiment, whose dispositions could not be implicitly re-
lied on, for the Swiss, and for the life-guards. These latter had at first
been ordered to retire ; they had afterwards been recalled, and, being
unable to assemble, there was but a small number of them at their
l)Ost. Amidst the tumult which prevailed, all the accessible parts had
not been defended : an iron gate had even been left open. Lafayette
caused the outer posts intrusted to him to be occupied, and none of
them was forced or even attacked.
The Assembly, notwithstanding the uproar, had resumed its sitting,
and was engaged, with the most imposing attitude, in a discussion on
the penal laws. Mirabeau, wearied out, exclaimed aloud that the As-
sembly had not to receive the law from any one, and that it should di-
rect the tribunes to be cleared. The people vehemently applauded
his apostrophe ; but the Assembly deemed it prudent not to make any
more resistance. Lafayette having sent word to Mounier that all ap-
peared to him to be quiet, and that he might dismiss the deputies, the
Assembly adjourned till eleven the following day, and broke up.
The crowd had dispersed itself here and there, and appeared to be
pacified. Lafayette had reason to feel confidence, as well from the
attachment of his army, which in fact did not belie his good opinion,
as from the tranquillity which seemed every where to prevail. He had
secured the hotel of the life-guards, and sent out numerous patroles.
At five in the morning he was still up. Conceiving that all was then
quiet, he took some refreshment, and threw himself upon a bed, to
obtain a little rest, of which he had been deprived for the last twenty-
tdur hours.*
* History cannot bestow too much space on the justification even of individuals,
especially in a revolution in which the principal parts were extremely ninnerons.
M. de Lafayette iia^ been so calumni'*^ '"^ '"~ "' " 11^- -
108 HISTORY OF THE
At this moment tlie people began to stir, and tliey were already
thronging to the environs of the palace.* A quarrel took place with
one of the life-guards, who fired from the windows. The brigands
immediately rushed on, passed the gate which had been left open, as-
cended a staircase, where they found no obstruction, and were at length
stopped by two life-guardsmen, who heroically defended themselves,
falhng back only foot by foot, and retiring from door to door. One
of these generous servants was Miomandre ; he shouted, " Save the
Queen !" This cry was heard, and the Queen ran trembling to the
King's apartments. While she was escaping, the brigands pushed for-
against his will to Versailles. Nothing can be more unjust, for though yon may
with firmness control soldiers whom you have long led to victory, yet citizens recently
and voluntarily enrolled, and \vho obey you merely from the enthusiasm of their
opinions, are irresistible when these opinions get the better of them. M. de Lafayette
struggled against them for a whole day, and certainly nobody could expect more.
Besides, nothing could be more beneficial than his departure; l"or, but for the na-
tional guard, the palace would have been stormed, and it is impossible to say what
might have been the fate of the royal family amidst the popular exasperation. As
we have already seen, the life-guards would have been overpowered but for the na-
tional guards. The presence of M. de Lafayette and his troops at Versailles was
therefore indispensable.
Not only has he been reproached for having gone thither, but he has also been
censured for having gone to bed when there, and this indulgence has been made tlie
subject of the nmst virulent and oft-repeated attacks. The truth is, that M. de La-
fayette remained up till the morning; that ho passed the whole night in sending oul
patroles and restoring order and tranquillity ; and what proves how judiciously his
precautions were taken is, that none of the posts committed to his care was attacked.
All appeared quiet, and he did what any one else would have done in his place, he
threw himself on a bed, to get a little rest, which he so much needed after struggling
for twenty-four hours against the populace. But that rest lasted no longer than
half an hour. He wa.s stirring at the first outcries, and in time to save the life-guards
who were about tr be massacred. What then is it possible to reproach him with ?
not having been present at the first minute ? but this might have Happened in any
other case. The issuing of an order or the inspecting of a post might have taken
him away fur half an hour from the point where the first attack was to take place:
and his absence at the first moment of the action was the most inevitable of all acci-
dents. But did he arrive in time to save almost all the victims, to preserve the palace
and the august personages within it? did he generously involve hin)self in the
greatest dangers ? This is what cannot be denied, and what procured him at the
time universal thanks. There was then but one voice among those whom he had
saved. Madame de Staijl, who cannot be suspected of partiality in favour of M. de
Lafayette, relates that she heard the life-guards shouting Lafayette for ever ! Mounier,
whose testimony is equally above suspicion, commends his zeal ; and M. de Lally-
Pollendal regrets that at this crisis he had not been invested with a kind of dictator- v
ship. (See his Report to his Constituents.) These two deputies have e.xpressed
themselves so strongly against the 5th and 6th of October, that their evidence may
be received with perfect confidence. At any rate, in the first moment nobody dur.«t
deny an activity that was universally acknowledged. Subsequently, the spirit of
the party, feeling the danger of allowing any virtues to a constitutionalist, denied
the services of Lafayette, and then commenced that long series of calumny to which
he has ever since been exposed.
* " Nothing occurred to interrupt the public tranquillity from three till five o'clock
in the morning ; but the aspect of the populace presaged an approaching storm.
Large groups of savage men and intoxicated women were seated round the watch-fires
in all the streets of Versailles, and relieved the tedium of a rainy night by singing revo-
lutionary songs. In one of these circles their exasperation was such, that, seated
on the corpse of one of the body-guard, they devoured the flesh of his horse half-
roasted in the flames, while a ring of frantic cannibals danced round the group. At
six o'clock a furious mob rushed towards the palace, and finding a gate open, speedily
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 109
ward, found the royal bed forsaken, and would have penetrated far-
ther, but they were iv^n'm checked by the life-guards, posted in consi-
derable number at that point. At this moment the French guards be-
longing to Lafayette, stationed near the palace, hearing the uproar,
hastened to the spot, and dispersed the brigands. They arrived at the
door behind which tlie life-guards were intrenched. " Open the door,"
they cried : "the French guards have not forgotten that you saved their
regiment at Fontenoi." The door was opened and they rushed into
each other's arms.
Tumult reigned without. Lafayette, who had lain down only
for a few moments, and had not even fallen asleep, hearing the noise,
leaped upon the first horse he met with, galloped into the tliick of the
fray, and there found several of the life-guards on the point of being
slaughtered. While he was disengaging them, he ordered his troops
to hasten to the palace, and remained alone amidst the brigands.
One of them took aim at him. Lafayette coolly commanded the peo-
ple to bring the man to him. The mob instantly seized the culprit,
and, before the face of Lafayette, dashed out his brains against the
pavement. After saving the life-guards, Lafayette flew with them to
the palace, and there found his grenadiers, who had already repaired
thither. They all surrounded him, and vowed to die for the King.
At this moment, the life-guards, who had been saved from destruction,
shouted Lafayette for ever ! The whole court, seeing themselves pre-
served by him and his troops, acknowledged that to him they were
indebted for their lives. These testimonies of gratitude were univer-
sal. Madame Adelaide, the King's aunt, ran up to him, and clasp-
ed him in her arms, saying, " General, you have saved us."
The populace at this moment insisted with loud cries that the King
should go to Paris.* A council was held. Lafayette, being invited
filled the staircases and vestibules of the royal apartments. The assassins rushed into
the Queen's room a few minutes after she had left it, and, enraged at finding tlieir
victim esciiped, pierced her bed with their bayonets ! They then dragged the bodies
of two ofthe i)ody-gnard who had been massacred, below the windows of tiie King,
beheaded them, aiid carried the bloody heads in triumph upon the points of their
pikes through the streets of Versailles." — Alison. E.
* " The mob crowded in the marble court, and wandering on the outside of the
palace, becan to express again their designs with frightful bowlings. ' To Paris !
To Paris !' were the first cries. Their prey was promised them, and then fresli
cries ordered the unfortunate family to appear on the balcony. The Queen showed
herself accompanied l>y her children; she was forced by threats to send them away.
I mixed in the crowd, and beheld for the fir-t time that unfortunate Princess; she
was dressed in white, her head was bare, and adorned with beautiful fair locks.
Motionless, and in a modest and noble attitude, .she appeared to me like a victim on
the block. The enraged populace were not nu)ved at the sight of wo in all its
majesty. Imprecations increased, and the unfortunate Princess could not even find
a support in the King, for his presence only augmented the fury of the multitude.
At last preparations for departure did more towards appeasing them than promises
could have done, and by twelve o'clock the frightful procession set ofi". I hope such
a scene will never be witnessed again ! I have often asked myself how the metropo-
lis of a nation, so celebrated for mbanity and elegance of manners — how the
brilliant city of PatSs could contain the savage hordes I that day beheld, and who so
long reigned over it I In walking through the streets of Paris, it seems to me, the
feaUires even of the lowest and most miserable class of people do not present to the
eye any thing like ferociousness, or the meanest passions in all their hideous energy.
110 HISTORY OF THE
to attend it, refused, that he might not impose any restraint on the
freedom of opinion. It was at length decided that the court sliould
comply with the wish of the people. Slips of paper, containing this
intimation, were thrown out of the windows. Louis XVI. then showed
himself at the balcony, accompanied hy tlie general, and was greeted
with shouts of " Long live the King I"" But the Queen did not fare
the same : threatening voices were raised against her. Lafayette ac-
costed lier. " Madame," said he, " what will you do 1" — "Accom-
pany the King," undauntedly replied the Queen. " Come with me
then," rejoined the general, and he led her in amaze to the balcony.
Some threats were offered by the populace. A fatal shot might be
fired ; words could not be heard ; it was necessary to strike tlie eye.
Stooping and taking the hand of the Queen, the general kissed it res-
pectfidly. The mob of Frenchmen was transported at this action,
and confirmed the reconciliation by shouts of Long live the Queen !
Long live Lafayette ! Peace was not yet made with the life-guards.
" Will you not do sometliing for my guards V said the King to La-
fayette. The latter took one of them and led him to the balcony,
clasped him in his arms, and put on him his own shoulder-belt, 'i he
populace again cheered, and ratified by its plaudits this new reconci-
liation.
The Assembly had not deemed it consistent with its dignity to go
to the monarch, though he had desired it to do so. It had contented
itself with sending to him a deputation of thirty-six members. As soon
as it was apprized of his intended departure, it passed a resolution
purporting that the Assembly was inseparable from the person of the
sovereign, and it nominated one hundred deputies to accompany him
to Paris. The King received the resolution, and set out.*
Can those passions alter the features so as to deprive them of alliikeness tolimii.inity?
Or doe^ the terror inspired by the sight of a gnilty wretch give him the seiiibUmce
of a wild heast? These madmen, dancing in the mire, and covered with mud. sur-
ronndi^d the King's coach. The groups that marched foremost carried on long pikes
the bloody heads of the lifc-gnardsmen butchered in the morning. Surely Satan
himself first invented the placing of a human head at the end of a lance! The dis-
figured and pale featin-es, the gory locks, the half-open mouth, the closed eyes, images
of death added to the gestures and salntations which the executioners made them
perform in horri(>le mockery of life, presented the most frightful spectacle that rage
could have imagined. A troop of women, ugly as crime itself swarming like insects,
and wearing grenadiers' hairy caps, went continually to and fro, hovvli ig barb;irong
songs, embracing and insulting the life-guards. This scene lasted for eight hours
before the royal fiuniiy arrived at the Place de Grcve. They alighted at the Hotel
de Ville. their first-resting place during protracted misery, that terminated some years
afterwards in a horrible death. Thus'ended the memorable 6th of October !"-^ilfe-
moirs of LnraUcttc. E.
* " The King did not leave Versailles till one o'clock. The hundred deputies in
their carriages followed him. A detaclnnent of brigands, carrying in triumph the
heads of the two life-guards, formed the advanced guard, which had set ofi'tvvo hours
earlier. These rainiibals stopped for a moment at Sevres, and carried their ferocity
to such a pitch as to force ainnifortuiiate barber to dress the hair of those two bleed-
ing heads. The main body of the Parisian army immediately followed. Before the
Kint''s carriage marched the poissardes, who had come the preceding evening froni
I'aris, and that whole army of abandoned women, the scum of their sex, still drunk
with fury and with wine. Several of them were astride upon the cannon, celebrating
by the most abominable songs all the crimes which they had committed or witnessed.
t
FRENCH REVOLUTIOiV, 111
The principal bands of the mob had already gone. Lafayette had
sent after them a detachment of the army, to prevent them from turn-
in"- hack. He also issued orders for disarming the brigands who were
carrvino- the heads of two life-guardsmen on the point of their pikes.
These horrible trophies were taken from them, and it is not true that
they were borne before the carriage of the King.*
Others, nearer to the Kinsf's carriage, were singing allegorical airs, and ijy their gross
gestures applying the insulting allusions in them to the Q,ueon. Carts laden with
corn and flour, which had come to Versailles, formed a convoy escorted by grena-
diers, and surrounded by women and market-porters armed with pikes, or carrying
large poplar boughs. This part of the cort6gc produced at some distance the most
singular effect : it looked like a moving wood, amidst which glistened pike-heads and
gun-barrels. In the transports of their brutal joy, the women stopped the pa.sseu-
gers and yelled in their ears, while pointing to the royal carriage, ' Courage, my
friends ; we shall have plenty of bread now""that we have got the baker, the baker's
wife, and the baker's boy.' Behind his majesty's carriage were some of his faithful
guards, partly on foot, partly on horseback, most of them without hats, all disaruied,
a7id exhausted with hunger "and fatigue. The dragoons, the Flanders regiment, the
Cent-Suisses, and the national guards, preceded, accompanied, and followed the file
of carriages.
" I was an eyewitness of this distressing spectacle, this melancholy procession.
Amidst this tumult, this clamour, these songs interrupted by frequent discliari(es of
musketrv, which the hand of a monster or an awkward person might have rendered
so fatal, I saw the Q,ueen retain the most courageous tranquillity of mind, and an air of
inexpressible nobleness and dignity: my eyes filled with tears of admiration and
<rr\(it'."—Bertra)iddeMollcrUle. E.
* The following is Latayette's own account of this affair. It is derived from the
posthumous Memoirs of the General, lately published by his family : " The numerous
and armed hordes who quitted Paris onthe.'uh of October, and who, united with the
populace of Versailles, committed the disorders of that day, were totally distinct from
ihe immense assemblage that, blockading themselves and us, made it difficult for the
news af that tumultuous departure for Versailles to reach the Hotel de Ville. I in-
stantly perceived that, whatever might be the conseqnence of this double movement,
the public safety required that I should take part in it, and, after having received
from the Hotel "de Ville an order and two counnissaries, I hastily provided for the
security of Paris, and took the road to Versailles at the head of several battalions.
When'vve approached the hall of the Assembly, the troops renewed their oath. They
only .advanced after I had offered my respects to the president, and received orders
from the King, who, having heard speeches from the commissaries and me, desired
me to occupy the posts of the former French guards; and in truth, at that time, the
pretension of taking possession of the palace would have appeared a most singular
one. Not only the gardes-du-corps on service, but the Swiss sentinels stationed in
the garden, and four hundred gardes-du-corps on horseback on the side towards
Trianon, were not dependent in the slightest degree on me. I did not undoubtedly
carry terror into the palace ; I answered for my own troops ; the result proved that I
was rijrht in doing so. I was not sufficiently master of the minds of the courtiers to
believe that their"secnrity depended solely on niy.self;— for example, it was not I who
sent to their own homes, in Versailles, the greatest number of the officers of the
gardes-du-corps; nor was it I wl|o sent to Rambouillet, at two o'clock in the morn-
ing (instead of employing them In forming patroles) the four hundred horse-guards
placed on the side nearest to the gardens of Trianon.
[I have been told by a person worthy of credit, who had this piece of intelligence
from M. de la Tour du Pin. the minister, that the King had hesitated until two in the
morning respecting the projects of flight projxtsed to him.]
" I procured lodgings for the drenched and fatigued troops; I ascertained that the
Hotel des Gardes-du-corps _was defended by a battalion: I ordered patroles in the
town, and rouml tl»^ palace. The entry into the King's chamber was refused me at
two o'clock in the' morning : I then repaired to the house of M. de Montmorin, in the
ministers' court, within reach of my grenadiers. At breaUof day all things appeared
to me to wear a tranquil aspect ; I went to the Hotel de Noailles, very near the palace,
112 HISTORY OF THE
Louis XVI. at length returned amidst a considerable concourse,
and was received by Bailly at tlie H6tel de Ville. " I return with con-
fidence," said the King, " into the midst of my people of Paris."
in which the staff received reports. I made some necessary arrangements for Paris;
I partook of some refreshments ; and should have believed that exhausted nature re-
quired, after more than twenty hours' unremitting exertion, some repose, if, a few
minutes later, a sudden alarm had not restored to me all my strength.
"Tliut infernal irruption was in truth most sudden, and perfectly distinct from the
other tumults. Two gardes-du-corps were killed ; other brave and faithful guards
stopped the brigands at the door of the apartment of the Q,ueen, who was conducted
to the King by the young Victor iMaubourg, one of their officers. The grenadiers
of my advanced post had scarcely arranged themselves in order of battle, when they
received my command to hasten to the palace. A volunteer company also repaired
thither very speedily. I flew at the same time to the spot, having sprung on the first
horse I met with. I was fortunate enough in the first instance to liberate a group of
gardes-du-corps, and, having confided them to the charge of the few persons who ac-
companied me, I remained surrounded by a furious mob, one of whom cried out to
the others to kill me. I commanded them to seize him, doubtless in a very authori-
tative voice, for they dragged him towards me, striking his head on the pavement.
I /bund the apartments occupied with national guards. The King deigned never
to forget the scene that ensued, when the grenadiers, with tears in their eyes,
promised me to perish to the last man with him. During that time our guards were
arriving; the courts were lined with national guards, and filled with a muliitude in
a high state of excitement. Tiiose who heard me address the King were not dissatis
fied with my expressions.
" I had long been of opinion that the Assembly would be more quiet, and the
King more secure, in Pari.s. 1 refused, however, being present at the deliberation,
(become necessary, I own,) in which the departure was decided upon ; and as soon
as the Queen had declared her noble determination of accompanying the King, I diil,
before thousands of witnesses, all that could be expected from the circumstances and
my devotion. It was then that in the King's cabinet, while embraced by Madame
Adelaide, I received from that respectable princess testimonies of approbation that ill
prepared me for the abuse from which I have since been obliged to vindicate myself.
" The statements of the proceedings of the Chatelet have mingled together the as-
sertions, opinions, reports, and even suppositions, of men of all parties. Such ab-
surd accusations are found there, as that Mirabeau was seen on die 5th armed with
a sabre, among the soldiers of a Flemish regiment; that a prince distributed monev
at six o'clock in the morning; and several tales of the same nature, the falsehood of
which is evident. — I have looked over some letters from officers and gardes-du-
corps, found in the King's cabinet, written in 1790 and 1791. Some of them ad-
dressed to a friend are evidently intended to efface, at the expense of other persons,
unfavourable expressions ; other letters contain inaccuracies, contradictions, and in-
bigniticant phrases; but all of them tend to prove that we only had charge of the
ancient posts, the French guards ; that when the chiefs of the gardes-du-corps required
instructions, it was to the King, the ministers, and M. d' Estaing, and not to me, that
they thought proper to apply ; that I had taken, and even redoubled, every precaution
for tlie Hotel des Gardes-du-corps; that those guards, as well as the palace, were
saved by us; and that a wounded guard of the King selected my house in Paris as
the place in which he would best be taken care of These words ' M. de Lafayette
has saved us,' are continually repeated. Aniong;the false assertions tliat have been
propagated, I shall relate but one ; it was said that the heads of two unfortunate
gardes-du-corps had been carried before the carriage of the King. While we were
only thinking of saving their comrades and the royal family, it is sufficiently horrible
that bandits should have escaped with the infamous trophies of their crimes ; but they
liad arrived at the Palais Royal ; and public authority had succeeded in dispersing
them, before the King had even ipiitted Versailles." E.
•' Lafayette, born in Auvergne, of one of the most ancient families of that province,
was employed, when still young, in the army that Louis XVI. sent to defend the inde-
pendence of the English colonies of North America. Rochambeau placed him at the
head of some volunteers, and in this manner he served with some distinction during
the whole war. He returned to France with the rank of major-general, full of
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 113
Bailly repeated these words to those who could not hear them, hut he
forgot tlie word confidence. " Add with confidence^'''' said the Queen.
" You are happier," replied Bailly, " than if I had said it myself."*
ideas of liberty. Being appointed by the noblesse of his province, deputy to the States-
General, he voted thai the examination of the powers should take place in common.
After the union of the three orders, he insisted, with Mirabeau, on the removal of the
troops whom the court was marching towards Paris. Being appointed vice-president,
he presented his well-known declaration of rights. In July, 1789. he was appointed
commander of the Parisian national guard. A few days afterthe famous 5th of October.
Lafayette, in a conference very imperious on the one side, and very timid on the other,
gave the Duke of (Jrleans to understand that his name was the pretext for all commo-
tions, and that he must leave the kingdom; an apparent mission w:is given to this prince,
and he set out for England. In February, 1790, Lafayette, in the Assembly, solicited
measures for repressing the disturbers of the provinces, and indemnifying the pro-
prietors of burnt houses ; these excesses he attributed to the counter-revolutionary
spirit. He afterwards voted for the suppression of titles of honour and nobility,
refusing even to admit of an exception in favour of the princes. At the Federation
in July, he presented the national guards, who were collected from every part of the
kingdom, to the Assembly and the King. At the time of Louis's flight, he was accu-
sed by the Jacobins of having assisted in it, and by the Royalists of having contri-
ved the arrest of his sovereign. When the King's late was debated in the Assembly,
Lafayette was among those who objected to the motion for bringing him to trial, and
declaring him deposed. When the Constitution was accepted, Lafayette voted for
the amnesty demanded by the King, and resigned his office of connnander of the-
guard, upon which the inutiicipaiity ordered a goldmedalto be struck in hishnnonr-
In 1792 Lafayette went to Metz, where he took the command of the central army.
At first he encamped under the walls of Givet, but his advanced guard, posted near
Philipshurg, met with a slight check, upon which he removed to the intrenched camp
at Maubeige, and placed his advanced guard at Grisnelles, under the comiBand of
Goiivion, where it was surprised and cut to pieces, and its leader killed by a cannon-
ball. Shortly afterwards Lafayette's army received accounts of the attempt made on
the 20th of June, and, in different addresses, declared its disapprobation of the out-
rage offered on that day to Louis. Proud of such support, Lafayette went to Paris,
and appeared at the bar of the legislative body, where he complained of these outra-
ges, and accused the Jacobins. For one moment the Assembly seemed intimidated
by this step, but the faction soon took courage : and Lafayette returned to his army.
after having in vain urged Louis to leave Paris, and come among his troops, who were
then failhful. Soon after, commissions having been sent from Paris to insist on his re-
moval from his command, he addressed his troops in a proclamation, in which lie called
on them to choose between the Constitution and Petion for a king. The whole army
exclaimed,' Long live the King I' — 'Long live the Constitution!' — but Lafayette, pl,i-
cing little dependence on this burst of enthusiasm, fled with several officers of hissiafl".
He was then declared an emigrant. On his arrival at the Austrian advanced posts
he was made prisoner. He was afterwards delivered up to the King of J'russia,
who caused him to be removed to Magdeburg, where he remained a year in a dun-
geon ; but when Prussia made peace with France, he was restored to the .\us-
trians, who sent him to Olmutz. .'\fter a rigorous imprisonment of three years and
five months, he obtained his liberty at the request of Bonaparte. He then withdrew
to Hamburg, and after the 18th Brumaire, returned to France," — Biographif. Mi>-
dernc. From this period Lafayette remained in comparative retirement till the
breaking out of the second Revolution in 18:50, when he was again appointed com-
mander of the national giuirds, which, however, he resigned, shortly after the acces-
sion of Louis-Philippe to the throne. He died in the year 1834. at the age of 7fi. F,.
* " Jeau Sylvain Bailly was one of the forty of the French Academy, and deputy
of Paris to the States-General. Born in Paris on the 15th of September, 173(), nature
had endowed him with all the talents which fit men for the study of the sciences, and
the meditations of philosophy. After several essays, which were well received by
the public, he publisl^ed a history of astronomy. When the Revolution broke out
in 1789. the electors of Paris chose him as secretary, and then as deputy of the tkrs-f:tat
to the States-General. He was president ofthis assembly in its first session. On the
16th of July he was appointed Mayor of Paris. When, after the flightof the King,
VOL. I. — 15
t
114 HISTORY OF THE
The royal family repaired to the palace of the Tuileries, which had
not been inhabited for a century, and where there had not been time
to make the necessary pi'eparations. The guard of it was confided
to the Parisian militia, and Lafayette was thus made responsible to
the nation for the person of the King, for which all the parties were
contending. The nobles were desirous to carry him to some fortress,
in order to exercise despotism in his name. The popular party,
which had not yet conceived the idea of dispensing with him, wished
to keep him, to complete the constitution, and to withdraw a chief
from civil war. Hence the malignity of the privileged classes called
Lafayette a gaoler ; and jet his vigilance proved only one thing —
the sincere desire to have a King.*
From this moment the march of the parties displayed itself in a
new manner. The aristocracy, separated from Louis XVI., and in-
capable of executing any enterprise by his side, dispersed itself abroad
and in the provinces. It was from this time that the emigration be-
gan to be considerable. A great number of nobles fled to Turin, to
the Count d'Artois, who had found an asylum with his father-in-
, law.t Here their policy consisted in exciting the departments of
the parties were divided, and the more violent revohitionists wished to seize the
opportunity of pronouncing the forfeiture of Louis, Bailly opposed tlie ferments
excited in Paris in favor of the party of the forfeiture. An iuunense crowd hav-
ing thronged to the Champ de.Mars to frame an address recommending the forfeiture,
on the 17 th of July, 1791, Bailly caused martial law to be proclaimed against this
assembly, which was dispersed by armed force. The National Assembly approved
this step ; but, from this time, Bailly perceived that liis credit was sinking. He
vacated the oilice of mayor early in November, and then went over to England,
whence he returned shortly after to Paris, trusting to spend the rest of his days in
retirement. He was, however, arrested in 1793, and brought to trial in November
before the revolutionary tribunal, which condeunied him to death. On the day
after the passing of his sentence, he was put into the liital cart, and, while proceed-
ing to execution, was loaded with the insults of the people. It was resolved that
he should die on the Champ de Mars, in the very place where he had caused the
seditious people to be fired on. Here he fell down in a fainting-fit. When he re-
covered, he demanded, haughtily, that an end might be put to his miseries. ' Dost
thou tremble, Bailly '' said one of his executioners, seeing his limbs, weakened by
age, quiver. ' Friend,' answered he, calmly, ' if I do tremble, it is with cold.'
After having been subjected to every species of ignominy, he ran himsell" to the
scaffold, which had been fixed upon a heap of dung. He died with great courage.
Bailly was tall, his face long and serious, and his character by no means devoid of
sensibility. There are several valuable works on astronomy by him. His widow
died in ItiOO. — Biograplde Modcrne. E.
* " The insurrection of the 5th and 6th of October was truly a popular move-
ment; we must not seek for any secret causes of it, or ascribe it to concealed am-
bition ; it was provoked by the imprudence of the court. The bancpiet of the body-
guard, the rumors of the flight, the fear of civil war, and the famine, alone carried
Paris on Versailles. If particular instigators, which the most interested in proving
the fact have left doubtful, contributed to produce the commotion, they changed
neither its direction nor its object. This event destroyed the ancient regime of the
court ; ittook away its guard ; it transported it from the royal town to the capital of the
revolution, and placed it under the surveillance of the people" — Mignct. E.
t " The day of the King's entrance into Paris was the first of the emigration of the
noblesse — a tatal example of defection, which, being speedily followed by the infe-
rior nobility, produced the most disastrous consequences. But it was the same
in all the subsequent changes of the Revolution. T'he royalist leaders, always the
first to propose violent measures, were at the same time unable to support them
when opposed; they diminished the sympathy of the world at their fall from so
high a rank, by showing that they were unworthy of it." — Alison. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 115
the south, and in supposing that the King was not free. The Queen,
wlio was an Austrian, and moreover an enemy to the new court form-
ed at Turin, fixed her hopes on Austria. The King, amidst these
macliinations, saw every thing, prevented nothing, and awaited his
salvation, come from what cpiarter it might. From time to time he
made the disavowals required hy the Assembly, and was not really
free, any more than he would have been at Turin or at Coblentz, or
than he was under Maurepas ; for it is the lot of weakness to be every
where dependent.
The popular party thenceforward triumphant, wasdivided amongthe
Duke of Orleans, Lafayette, Mirabeau, Barnave, and the Lameths.*
The public voice charged the Duke of Orleans and Mirabeau with be-
ing the authors of the late insurrection. Witnesses who were not un-
worthy of credit, asserted that they had seen the duke and Mirabeau
on the deplorable field of battle of the 6th of October. These state-
ments were afterward contradicted ; at the moment, however, they
were believed. The conspirators had intended to remove the King,
and even to put him to death, said the boldest calumniators. The
Duke of Orleans, they added, had aspired to be lieutenant of the king-
dom, and Mirabeau minister. As none of these plans had succeeded,
Lafayette appearing to have thwarted them by his presence, was
regarded as the saviour of the King, and the conqueror of the Duke
of Orleans and Mirabeau. The court, which had not yet had time
to become ungrateful, acknowledged Lafayette to be its preserver, and
the power of the general at this moment seemed immense. The
hotheaded patriots were incensed at it, and began already to mutter
the name of Cromwell. Mirabeau, who, as we shall presently see,
had no connexion with the Duke of Orleans, was jealous of Lafayette,
and called him Cromwell Grandison. The aristocracy seconded these
distrusts, and added to them its own calumnies. Lafayette, however,
was determined, in spite of all obstacles, to uphold the King and the
constitution. For this purpose he resolved in the first place to remove
the Duke of Orleans, whose presence gave occasion to many reports,
and might furnish, if not the means, at least a pretext, for disturb-
ances. He had an interview with the prince, intimidated him by his
firmness, and obliired him to withdraw. The King, who was in the
scheme, feigned, with his usual weakness, to ))e forced into this mea-
sure ; and wrhing to the Duke of Orleans, he told him that it was ab-
solutely necessary for him or M. de Lafayette to retire ; that, in the
state of opinions, the choice was not doubtful ; and that, in conse-
quence, he gave him a commission for England. MVe havesince been
informed that M. de Montmorin, minister for foreign affairs, in order
* "At this epoch, the extremes on the liberal side wereDuport, Barnave, and La-
nieth,who formed a triunivirato, whose opinions were formed by Diiport, supported
by Barnave, and whose measnres were directed by Alexandre Lan)eth. This parly
placed itself at once in a position a little in advance of that in which the Revolntiou
had arrived. The I'^hof July had been the triumph of the middle class; the constit
uent was its assembly ; the national guard its armed force; the mayoralty its popular
power. Mirabeau, Lafayette, and Bailly, applied themselves to this class, and were
the one its orator, tlie other its general, and the third its magistrate." — Miguel. E.
116 HISTORY OF THE
to rid himself of tlie anibitioa of the Duke of Orleans, directed him
towards the Netherlands, then in rebellion against Austria, and that
he had held out hopes to him of acquiring the title of Duke of Bra-
bant.* His friends, when apprized of this resolution, were indignant
at his weakness. More ambitious than he, they would have persuaded
him not to comply. They went to Mirabeau, and entreated him to
denounce in the tribune the violence which Lafayette was committing
against the prince. Mirabeau, already jealous of the general's popu-
larity, sent word to him and to the duke that he would denounce both
of them in the tribune if the departure for England should take place.
The Duke of Orleans was shaken : a fresh summons from Lafayette
decided him ; and Mirabeau, on receiving in the Assembly a note ac-
quainting him with the retreat of the prince, exclaimed in vexation :
" He is not worth the trouble that is taken about him."t This expres-
sion and many others equally inconsiderate have caused him to be
frequently accused of being one of the agents of the Duke of Orleans ;
but this he never was. His straitened circumstances, the imprudence
of his language, his familiarity with the Duke of Orleans, though in-
deed he treated every body in the same manner, his pi'oposal relative
to the Spanish succession, and lastly his opposition to the departure
of the duke, could not but excite suspicions ; it is nevertheless true
that Mirabeau had no party, nay, that he had no other aim but to des-
troy the aristocracy and arbitrary power.
The authors of these suppositions ought to have known that Mira-
beau was at this time under the necessity of borrowing the most tri-
fling sums, Avhich would not have been the case, if he had been the
agent of a prince immensely rich, and who is believed to have been
almost ruined by his partisans. Mirabeau had already foreboded the
speedy dissolution of the state. A conversation with an intimate
friend, which lasted a whole night, in the park of Versailles, caused
liim to decide on adopting an entirely new plan ; and he determined
for his glory, for the welfare of the state, and lastly for his own fortune —
for Mirabeau was the man for attendino: to all these interests at once
— to stand immoveable between the disaffected and the throne, and to
consolidate the monarchy while making a place in it for himself. The
court had tried to gain him, but the affair had been clumsily mana-
* See Dumoiiriez's Memoirs.
t I have already shown that there was scarcely any connexion whatever between
Mirabeai: and tlie Duke of Orleans. Here follows a key to the signification of the
celebrated expression, Ccj. ../..... no merite pas la peine qu'on se donne pourlui. The
constraint exercised by Lafayette over the Duke of Orleans indisposed the popnlar
[):irty, and irritated above all the friends of the prince who was doomed to exile.
'I'he latter conceived the idea of letting loose Mirabeau against Lafayette, by ta-
king advantage of the jealousy of the orator against the general. Lauzun, a friend of
the duke's svent one evening to Mirabeau, to urge him to take up the subject the very
next morning. Mirabeau, who often gave way to persuasion, was about to yield.
when his friends, more vigilant than himself over his own conduct, begged him not
to stir. It was therefore resolved that he should not speak. Next morning, at the
opening of the sitting, news arrived of the departure of the Duke of Orleans; and
Mirabeau, who owed him a grudge for his compliance to Lafayette, and bethought
himof the useless efforts of his friends, exclaimed, Ce j... /..... ne mdrite pas la peine
qu'on se donne pour lui.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 117
ged, and without the deUcacy requisite towards a man of great pride,
and desirous of retaining hi.s popularity, in dt-f.iult of the esteem which
he did not yet possess. Malouet, a frieud of Necker, and connected
with Mirabeau, wished to bring them into comniuiiication. Mira-
beau had frequently declined this,* being certain that he could never
atrree with the minister. He nevertheless assented. Malouet intro-
duced him, and the incompatibility of the two characters was still
more strongly felt after this interview, in which, according to the ad-
mission of all present, Mirabeau displayed the superiority which he had
in private life, as well as in the tribune. It was reported that he had
manifested a wish to be bought, and that, as Necker made no overture,
he said on going away : " The minister shall hear of me.'''' This again
is an interpretation of the parties, but it is false. Malouet had pro-
posed to Mirabeau, who was known to be satisfied with the liberty ac-
quired, to come to an understanding with the minister, and nothing
more. Besides, it was at this very period that a direct negotiation was
opened with the court. A foreign prince, connected with men of all
parties, made the first overtures. A friend, who served as inter-
mediate agent, explained that no sacrifice of principles would be
obtained from IMirabeau ; but that, if the government would adhere to
the constitution, it would find in him a stanch supporter; that, as to
the conditions, they were dictated by his situation ; that it was requi-
site, even for the interest of those who wished to employ him, that
that situation should be rendered honourable and independent — in
other words, that his debts should be paid ; that, finally, it was neces-
sary to make him attached to the new social order, and without ac-
tually giving him the ministry, to hold out hopes of it at some future
time.t The negotiations were not entirely concluded till two or three
months afterwards, that is, in the first months of 17904 Ilisto-
* Messrs. Malouet audBertrand de ]Molleville have not hesitated to assert the con-
trary, but the fact here advanced is attested by witnesses of the highest credil)iiity.
t In Mirabeau, as iu ail superior men, much littleness was united widi mucii jrreat-
ness. He had a lively imagination, which it was requisite to amuse with hopes. It was
impossible to give him the uiinistry witliout destroying his influence, and consequently
without ruining hiui, and uuilifyiiig the aid thatniigiit be derived from him. Uu the
other hand, lie needed this bait i'or his imagination. Those therefore who had placed
themselves between hiui and the court, recoimnended that at least the hope of a port-
folio should be left him. However, the personal interests of Mirabeau were never
the subject of particular mention in the various conuniuiications which took jilace ;
nothing in fact was ever said about money or favours, and it was ditliciiit to make
Mirabeau understand what the court wished to convey to him. For this purpose a
very ingenious method was suggested to the King. Mirabeau had so bad a reputa.
tion that few persons would have been willing to serve as his colleagues. Tlie King,
addressing M. de I.ianconrt, for whom he had a particular friendship, asked him. if
in order to render him service, he would accept a portfolio in company with Mira
beau. M. de Lianconrt, devoted to the monarcli, replied, that he was ready to do
whatever the good of his service required. This question, which was soon reported
to the orator, filled him with satisfaction, and he no longer doubted that he should be
appointed minister, as soon as circumstances permitted.
I " Disgusted with the fickleness of the nniltitude, Mirabeau had long made secret
advances to the constitutional party, and entered into correspondence witli the King,
fertile purpose of restraining the furtiier progress of the Revolution. He received
for a short time, a pension of 20,000 francs, or 800/. a month, first from tiu; Count
d'Artois, and afterwards from the King: but it was not continued till the time of his
death, from finding that he was not so phant as the court party expected." — Alison. E.
lis HISTORY OF THE
rians unacqunintcd Avith these particulars, and misled by the perseve-
rance of Mirabeau in opposing the government, have assigned a later
period to this treaty. It was, however, nearly concluded at the com-
mencement of 1790. We shall notice it in its proper place.
The only way in which l^arnavc and the Lameths could rival
Mirabeau, was by a greater patriotic austerity. Apprized of the nego-
tiations which were in progress, they accredited the rumour already
circulated, that the ministry was about to be conferred on him, in order
that they might thus deprive him of the means of accepting it. An
occasion for thwarting his views soon occurred. The ministers had
no right to speak in the Assembly. Mirabeau was unwilling, when
appointed minister, to lose the right of speaking, which was the chief
instrument of his inlluence ; he wished moreover to bring Necker into
the tribune, that he might crush him there. He proposed therefore
to give a consultative voice to the ministers. The popular party, in
alarm, opposed the motion without any reasonable motive, and ap-
peared to have a dread of ministerial seductiqns. But its apprehen-
sions were absurd ; for it is not by their public communications wivh
the chambers,, that the ministers usually corrupt the national represen-
tation. Mirabeau's motion was negatived, and Lanjuinais, pushing
rigour still farther, proposed to forbid the existing deputies to ac-
cept the ministry. A violent debate ensued. Though the motive of
these propositions was known, it was not avowed ; ajid Mirabeau,
who was incapable of dissimulation, at length exclaimed that it would
be wrong, for the sake of a single individual, to take a measure per-
nicious to the state ; that he supported the motion, on condition tiiat
the ministry should be interdicted, not to all the present deputies, but
only to M. de Mirabeau, deputy of the seneschalship of Aix. His
frankness and boldness were of no avail, and the motion was unani-
mously adopted.
We have seen how the state was divided between the emigrants,
the Queen, the King, and different popular chiefs, such as Lafayette,
Mirabeau, Darnave, nnd Lameth. J\o decisive event, like that of the
14th of July or the 5th of October, was possible for a long time to
come. It was requisite that fresh contrarieties should exasperate the
court and the people, and produce a signal rupture.
The Assembly had removed to Paris, after repeated assurances of
tranquillity on the part of the commune, and the promise of entire
liberty in the votes. Mounier and Lally-Tollendal, indignant at the
events of the 5th and 6th of October, had resigned their seats, saying
tiiat they would not be either spectators of, or accomplices in, the
crimes of the factious. They must, have regretted this desertion of
the public welfare, especially when they saw Maury and Cazaies,
after seceding from the Assembly, soon return to it, and courageously
support to the end the cause which they had espoused. Mounier,
retiring to Daupliine, assembled the states of the province, but a
decree soon caused them to be dissolved, Mithout any resistance.
Thus Mounier and Lally, who, at the period of the junction of the
orders and of the oath at the Tennis Court, had been the heroes of
the people, were no longer held in any estimation by them. The
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 119
parliaments had been first outstripped by the popular power; so had
Mounier, Lally, and Necker, been after them ; and so many others
were very soon destined to he.
""J'he dearth, the exaggerated but nevertlieless real cause of the dis-
turbances, gave occasion also to a crime. A baker, named Fran<^ois,
was murdered by some brigands. Lafayette succeeded in securing
the culprits, and delivered them to the Chatelet, which was invested
with an extraordinary jurisdiction over all oftences i-clative to the
Revolution. Here Besenval, and all those who were accused of
having a hand in the aristocratic conspiracy foiled on the 14th of
July, were under trial. The Chatelet was authorized to try according
to new forms. Till the introduction of the trial by jury, which was
not yet instituted, the Assembly had ordered publicity, the contradic-
tory defence, and all the measures which ojierated as safeguards to
innocence. The murderers of Francois were condemned, and tran-
quillity was restored. Upon this occasion, Lafayette and Bailiy propo-
sed the adoption of martial law. The motion, though strongly opposed
by Robespierre, who thenceforward showed himself a warm partisan of
the people and the poor, was nevertheless approved by the majority.
By virtue of this law, the municipalities were responsible for the
public tranquillity ; in case of disturbance, they were directed to
require the aid of the regular troops or the militia ; and they were
enjoined, after three warnings, to employ force against seditious
assemblaires. A committee of search was established in the com-
mune of Paris and in the National Assembly, to look after the luime-
rous enemies, whose machinations crossed each other in all directions.
All these measures were not more than sufficient to control tlie host
of adversaries leagued against the new revolution.
The formation of the constitution was prosecuted with activity.
The feudal system had been abolished, but there was still wanting a
last measure for destroying those great bodies which had be»;n ene-
mies constituted in the state against tlie state. The clergy possessed
immense property. It had been conferred on them by princes as
feudal grants, or by the pious by way of legacy. If the property of
individuals, the fruit and object of their labour, ought to be respected,
that wliicli had been given to bodies for a certain purpose might have
another destination assigned to it by the law. It was for the service of
religion, or at least upon this pretext, that it had been bestowed ;
religion being a public service, the law had a right to provide for it in a
totally different manner. 'J'he Abbe Maury here displayed his imper-
turbable spirit: he gave the alarm to ihe landed ])roprietors, threatened
them with speedy spoliation, and declared that the provinces were
sacrificed to the stockjobbers of the capital. His sophistry was sin-
gular enough to be recorded. It was to pay the pulilic d(>ht that the
pro|)ertv of the clergy was disposed of; the creditors were the great
capitalists of Paris ; the property which was sacrificed to them was in
the provinces ; kence the bold reasoner concluded that it was sacri-
ficing the country to the capita! ; as if the country were not on the con-
trary a gainer by the new division of those immense estates hitherto
reserved for the luxury of a few indolent churchmen.
AH these efforts were useless. The bishop of Autun, the author
120 HISTORY OF THE
of the proposal, and Thouret, the deputy, demolished these vain
sophisms.* The Assembly was proceeding to resolve that all the
possessions of the clergy belonged to the state ; the opposition, how-
ever, still insisted on the question of property. They were told
that if they were proprietors, the nation had a right to make use of
their property, since this kind of property had frequently been em-
ployed in cases of emergency for the service of the state. This they
did not deny. Taking advantage of their assent, Mirabeau then
moved that, for the words belong to, should be substituted, are at the
disposal of, the state, and the discussion was instantly terminated by
a great majority. The Assembly thus destroyed the formidable power
of the clergy and the luxury of the high dignitaries of the order,
and secured those immense financial resources which so long upheld
the Revolution. At the same time, it provided for the subsistence of
the cures, by resolving that their salaries should not be less than twelve
hundred francs, adding, moreover, the use of a parsonage-house and
garden. It declared that it ceased to recognise religious vows, and
restored liberty to all the inmates of cloisters, leaving to those who
preferred it the right of continuing the monastic life. Their property
Avas withdi'awn, and pensions were granted in its stead. Carrying
its forecast still farther, it established a difference between the wealthy
orders and the mendicant orders, and proportioned the salary of both
to their former condition. It pursued the same course in regard to
pensions ; and when Camus, the Jansenist, desirous of returning to
the evangelical simplicity, proposed to reduce all pensions to one very
low standard, the Assembly, on the recommendation of Mirabeau,
reduced them proportionably to their actual value, and suitably to the
former state of the receiv'ers. It was impossible to carry attention to
previous habits to a greater lengtli, and in this consists the real respect
for property. In like manner, when the Protestants, expatriated ever
since the edict of Nantes, reclaimed their possessions, the Assembly
restored such only as had not been sold.
Prudent and delicate in regard to persons, the Assembly treated
things without ceremony, and was much bolder in matters relating to
the constitution. The prerogatives of the great powers had been
* " Talleyrand, Bishop of Antiiii, proposed to the clergy to renounce the property
of the ecclesiastical benefices m favour of the nation, which would employ it in the
support of the altars and the payment of its debt. He proved the justice and the
propriety of this measure ; he showed the great advantages which would result from
it to the "state. The clergy struggled against this proposition, but it was carried on
the 2d of December. From that moment the hatred oi'&'i clergy to the Revolution
broke forth. It had been less intractable than the noblesse at the commencement of
the States-General, in the hope of preserving its wealth; afterwards it showed itself
not less opposed to the new regime'' — Mignet. E.
"M. de Talleyrand is the only bishop ever appointed by the choice, and at the re-
quest of the clergy of France. He was then Abbe de Perigord, and agent of the
clergy : bu', contrary to the usual custom, especially in the case of a man of such high
birtii' Louis XVI. had delayed appointing him. The general assembly of the clergy
expressly voted that a representation should be made to the King, in their name, ex-
pressive of their astonishment that the Abbe de Perigord was not made a bishop ; and
it was in consequence of this indication that the King at last gave him the bishopric
of Autun." — Memoirs of Lafayette. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 121
fixed : the question now was, the division of the territory of the king-
dom. It had always been divided into provinces, successively united
with ancient France. These provinces, dift'ering from one another
in laws, privileges, and manners, formed a most heterogeneous whole.
Sieyes* conceived the idea of blending them together by a new divi-
sion, which should annihilate the ancient demarcations, and introduce
the same laws and the same spirit into all parts of the kingdom. This
was accomplished by the division into departments. These were
divided into districts, and the districts into municipalities. In all these
degrees, the principle of representation was admitted. The depart-
mental administration, that of the district, and that of the communes,
were assigned to a deliberative council and to an executive council ;
both were elective. These various authorities depended the one on
the other, and they had the same powers, throughout their respective
jurisdictions. The department made the assessments of the taxes
upon the districts, the district upon the communes, and tlie commune
upon individuals.
The Assembly then fixed the quality of a citizen enjoying political
rights. It required the age of twenty-five years, and the payment of
contributions to the amount of one silver mark. Every man who
combined these conditions had the title of active citizen, and those
who did not, styled themselves passive citizens. These exti'emely
simple denominations were turned into ridicule ; for it is names
that people lay hold of when they want to depreciate things ; but
they were natural, and aptly expressed their object. The active
citizen concurred in elections, either for the formation of the admi-
nistrations, or for that of the Assembly. The elections of the deputies
had two degrees. No specific condition was required to constitute
eligibility ; for, as it was observed in the Assembly, a man is an elec-
tor by his existence in society, and he must be eligible from the mere
confidence of tlie electors.
These operations, interrupted by a thousand incidental discussions,
were nevertheless prosecuted with great ardour. The right side (the
party of the nobility and clergy) only contributed by its obstinacy to
* " Sieyes was one of those men, who, in ages of enthusiasm, found a sect, and, in
an age ofintelUgence, exercise theascendant ofa powerful understanding. Solitude
and philosophic speculation had ripened it for a happy moment; his ideas were now,
vigorous, various, hut little systematic. Society had in particular heen the object
of his examination; ho had followed its progress and decomposed its machinery.
The nature of government appeared to him less a question of right than a question
of epoch, .'\ltiiough cool and deliberate, Sieyes had tlie ardour which inspires the
investigation of truth, and the fearlessness to insist on its promulgation; thus he was
absolute in his notions, despising the ideas of others because he found them incom-
plete, and only, in his eyes, only the half truth, which was error. Contradiction irri-
tated him; he was little communicative; he would have wished to make himself
thoroughly understood, but he could not succeed with all the world. His disciples
transmitted his systems to others — a circumstance which gave him a certain air of
mysteriousness, and rendered him the object of a sort of adoration, lie had the
authority which complete pohtical science bestows, and the constitution could have
sprung from his heac(( all armed like the Minerva of Jupiter, or the legislation of the
ancients, if in our times every one had not wished to assist in it, or to judge of it.
Nevertheless, with some modifications, his plans were generally adopted, and he had
in the committees more disciples llian fellow-labourers. " — Mignet. E.
VOL. I. 16.
122 HISTORY OF THE
impede them, the moment opportunity oifered to contest any portion
of influence with the nation. The popular deputies, on the contrary,
thougli forming several parties, acted in concert, or differed without
animosity, agreeably to their private opinions. It was easy to per-
ceive that among them conviction predominated over party consider-
ations. Thouret, Mirabeau, Duport, Sieyes, Camus, Chapelier, were
seen alternately uniting and dividing, according to their opinion, in
each discussion. As for the members of the nobility and clergy, they
never appeared but in party discussions. If the parliaments had
issued decrees against the Assembly, if deputies or writers had insulted
it, they then came forward, ready to support them. They supported
also the military commandants against the people, the slave-traders
against the negro slaves ; they were against the admission of Jews
and Protestants to the enjoyment of the common rights. Lastly,
when Genoa declared against France, on account of the enfranchise-
ment of Corsica, and the union of that island with the kingdom, they
were in favour of Genoa against France. In short, aliens, indifferent
to all beneficial discussions, not listening to them, but conversing
among themselves, they never rose but when there were rights or
liberty to be refused.*
* It will not be uninteresting to sliow the opinion of Ferrierea concerning the
manner in which the deputies of his own party liehaved in the Assembly.
" In the National Assembly," says Ferrieres, " there were not more than abont three
hundred really upright men, exempt from party-spirit, not belonging to any club,
wishing what was right, wishing it for its own sake, independent of the interest ofor-
ders or of bodies, always ready to embrace tiie most just and the most beneficial pro-
posal, no matter from wliat quarter it came, or by w'iiom it was supported. These
were the men worthy of the honourable function to which they had been called, who
made the few good laws thatproceeded fromthe Constituent Assembly ; it was they who
prevented all the mischief which was not done by it. Invariably adopting what was
good, as invariably opposing what was bad, they have frequently produced a ma-
jority in favour of resolutions which, but for them, would have been rejected from a
spirit of faction; and they have often defeated motions which, but for them, would
have been adopted from a spirit of interest.
" While on this subject, 1 cannot abstain from remarking on theimpolitic conduct
of the nobles and the bishops. As they aimed only to dissolve the Assembly, to
throw discredit on its operations, instead of opposing mischievous measures, they
manifested an indifference on this point which is inconceivable. When the presi-
dent stated the question they quitted the hall, inviting the deputies of their party to
follow them ; or, if they stayed, they called out to them to take no part in the delibe-
ration. The Clubbists, forming through this dereliction of duty a majority of the
Assembly, carried every resolution they pleased. The bishops and the nobles, firmly
believing tiiat the new order of things would not last, hastened, with a sort of impa-
tience, as if determined to accelerate the downfall, both the ruin of the monarchy and
their own ruin. With this senseless conduct they combined an insulting disdain
both of the Assembly and of the people who attended the sittings. Instead of listen-
ing, they laughed and talked aloud, thus confirming the people in the unfavourable
opinion which it had conceived of them ; and, instead of striving to recover its con-
fidence and its esteem, they strove only to gain its hatred and its contempt. All
these follies arose solely from the mistaken notion of the bishops and the nobles, who
could not persuade themselves that the Revolution had long been effected in the
opinion and in the heart of every frenchman. They hoped, by means of these
dykes, to set bounds to a torrent which was daily swelling. All they did served only
to produce a greater accumulation of its waters, to occasion greater ravages; obsti-
nately clinging to the old system, the basis of all their actions, of all their opposition,
but which was repudiated by all. By this impolitic obstinacy they forced the Revo-
lutionists to e.\tend the Jievolution beyond the goal which they had set up for them-
FRENCH REVOLUTION 123
As we have already observed, it was no longer possible to attempt
nny great conspiracy in favour of the King, since the aristocracy was
put to flight, and the court was encompassed by the Assein1)ly, tlie
people, and the national militia. Partial movements were, tlicrcfore,
all that the malcontents could attempt. They fomented the discon-
tent of the officers who adhered to the former order of things ; while
the soldiers, having every thing to gain, inclined to the new. A'iolent
quarrels look place between the army and the populace: the soldiers
frequently gave their officers to the mob, who murdered them ; at other
times, these mutual jealousies were happily appeased, and all again
became quiet, when the commandants of towns could conduct them-
selves with any address, and had taken the oath of fidelity to the new
constitution. The cleriry had inundated Britanny Avith protestations
against the alienation of its property. Attempts were made to excite
a remnant of religious fanaticism in the provinces, where the ancient
superstition still prevailed. The parliaments were also employed,
and a last trial was made of their authority. Their vacation had been
prorogued by the Assembly, because it did not wish to have any discus-
sion with them during the interval that should elapse before it could
dissolve them. The chambers of vacation administered justice in
their absence. At Rouen, at Nantes, at Rennes, they passed resolu-
tions, in which they deplored the ruin of the ancient monarchy and
the violation of its laws ; and, whhout mentioning the Assembly, they
seemed to point to it as the cause of all the prevailing evils. They
were called to the bar, and delicately reprimanded. That of Rennes,
as the most culpable, was declared incapable of fulfilling its functions.
That of IMetz had insinuated that the King was not free. Such, as
we have already observed, was the policy of the discontented : as
they could not make use of the King, they sought to represent him
as in a state of restraint, and for this reason they were desirous of
annulling all the laws to which he appeared to assent. He seemed
himself to second this policy. He would not recal his life-guards,
who were dismissed on the 5th and 6th of October, and caused the
duty about his person to be performed by the national militia, among
whom he knew that he was safe. His intention was to appear to be
u captive. The commune of Paris foiled this too petty artifice, by
soliciting the King to recal his guards, which he refused to do upon
frivolous pretexts, and through the medium of the Queen.*
selves. TliR nobles and the bishops then exclaimed airainst injustice, tyranny. They
talked of the antiquity and the legitimacy of their rights to men who had sapped the
foiuidation of all rijrhts." — Ferriercs, tome ii., p. 12'^.
* The question of the recal of the Kinij's <rnards furnished occasion for an anec-
dote which deserves to be recorded. Tlie Queen complained to M. de Lafayette
that the Kinrr was not free, and in proof of this, she alleged that the dnty of the
])alace was done by the national guard and not by the life-guards. 3L de Lafayette
immediately asked her if she should be gratifieil by the recal of the latter. The
(iueen at first hesitated to answer; but she durst not refuse the otVer made by the
general to bring abouf their recall. lie instantly repaired to the munici])alily. which,
at his instigation, presented a formal petition to the King to recal his liti^-guards,
otVering to share with them the duty of the palace. The King and Queen were not
displeased with this solicitation ; but they were soon rendered sensible of its conse-
quences, and those who were desirous that they should not appear to be free, induced
124 HISTORY OF THE
The year 1790 had just commenced, and a general agitation began
to be perceptible. Three tolerably quiet months had passed since
the 5tli and 6tli of October, and the commotiou seemed to be break-
ing out anew. Violent storms are always followed by calms, and
these cahns by petty gusts, which gradually become more and more
vehement. These disturbances were laid to the charge of the clergy,
the nobility, the court, and even of England, who directed her ambas-
sador to justif}' her conduct. The paid companies of the national
guard were themselves infected with this general discontent. Some
soldiers assembled in the Champ Elysees, and demanded an increase
of pay. Lafayette, present every where, hastened to the spot, dis-
persed and punished them, and restored quiet among his troops,
who were still faithful, notwithstanding these slight interruptions of
discipline.
There were great rumours of a plot against the Assembly and the
municipality, the supposed ringleader of which was the Marquis de
Favras.* He was apprehended, witli circumstances of pubhc noto-
riety, and sent to the Chatelet. It was immediately reported that
Bailly and Lafayette were to have been assassinated ; that twelve
them to refuse their compliance. It was, nevertheless, embarrassing to assign a
motive for tiieir refusal; and the Q,ueen, to whom difficult commissions were fre-
quently allotted, was directed to tell M. de Lafayette that the proposal cf the munici-
pality was not acceded to. The motive which she alleged was, that the King would
not expose the life-guards to the risk of being murdered. M. de Lafliyette had just
met one of them walking in uniform in the Palais Royal. He mentioned this fact to
the Ciueen, who was still more embarrassed, but persisted in the determination whicli
she was charged to express.
* " Tiie ]\Iarquis de Favras, formerly lieutenant of Monsieur's Swiss guards, was
condennied by the Chatelet of Paris, on the ]8th of February, 1790, for having en-
deavoured to excite a counter-revolutionary project, and for having intended to at-
tempt the life of Lafayette, Bailly, and Necker, and to carry off the King and the
royal family. He was born at Blois; devoted himself from his earliest youth to tlie
service, and went into the musketeers in 1755. Li 1761 he obtained a company of
dragoons in the regiment of Belsunce ; and served with distinction in the campaigns
of 1762 and 1763, after which he was appointed adjutant. In 1772 he acquired the
office of first lieutenant of JMonsieur's Swiss, which conferred the rank of colonel.
In 1786 he went to Vienna to get his wife legitimatized, as only daughter of the
Prince of Anhalt-Schaumberg. In 1787 he commanded a legion in Holland, at the
time of the insurrection agaiast the Stadtholder. In 17!.»0 he was accused of having
plotted, at Paris, against the Revolution ; of having wanted to introduce armed nien
into Paris by night, in order to destroy the three principal heads of the administration;
of attacking the King's guard; of taking away the seals of the state; and even of car-
rying off the King and his family to Voronne. He was summoned before the Cha-
telet, and repelled all the accusations brought against him; but his denials did not
prevent the judges from condemning him. The announcement of his sentence did
not shake his fortitude ; he dictated his will with calmness, and paid great attention
to the style of it. Favras was executed on the 11th of February, 1790. On mount-
ing the scaffold he desired to be heard, and, addressing himself to the people, said,
' Citizens, I am about to appear before God; I cannot be suspected of lying at this
dreadful moment; well, then, I swear to you before Heaven, that I am not guilty.
Do your office,' added he, addressing the executioner. The people showed the great-
est fury against this victim, who was sacrificed to the policy of the moment. During
the trial, groups of furious persons made the environs of the Chatelet echo with cries
of Favras to the lamp-post!' Monsieur was so talked of among the populace as the
principal person in this affair, that he thougiit proper to go the town-hall and publicly
disavow the plots ascribed to him. The Assembly seemed persuaded of the truth of
these denials." — Biographic Modcrne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 125
hundred horse were ready at Versailles to carry off the King ; that
an army, composed of Swiss and Picdmontese, was to receive him,
and to march to Paris. The alarm spread. It was added that
Favras was the secret agent of the highest personages. Suspicion
was directed to Monsieur, the King's brother. Favras had been in
his guards, and moreover had negotiated a loan in his behalf. INIon-
sieur, alarmed at the agitation which prevailed, repaired to the Hotel
de Ville, protested against the insinuations thrown out against him,
explained his connexion with Favras, appealed to his popular senti-
ments formerly manifested in the Assembly of the Notables, and
desired that he might be judged, not from public rumours, but from
his known and unswerving patriotism.* His speech was received
with shouts of applause, and the crowd escorted him back to his
residence.
The trial of Favras was continued. This Favras had run all over
Europe, married a foreign princess, and been devising plans for
retrieving his fortunes. He had been engaged in them on the 14th
of July, on the 5th and 6th October, and in the last months of 1769.
The witnesses who accused him furnished precise particulars of his
last scheme. The murder of i3ailly and Ijafayette, and the abduction
of the King, appeared to form part of this scheme ; but there was no
proof that the twelve hundred horse were in readiness, or that the
Swiss and Piedmontese army was in motion. Circumstances were far
from favourable to Favras. The Chatelet had just liberated Besenval
and the other persons implicated in the plot of the 14th of July :
public opinion was dissatisfied. Lafayette nevertheless encouraged
the gentlemen of the Chatelet, exhorted them to be just, and assured
them that their sentence, be it what it might, sliould be executed.
This trial revived the suspicions against the court. These new
schemes caused it to be deemed incorrigible ; for, even in the midst ot
Paris, it was still seen conspiring. The King was therefore advised
to take a decisive step, which should satisfy public opinion.
On the 4th of February, 1790, the Assembly was surprised to per-
ceive some alterations in the arrangement of the hall. The steps of
the bureau were covered with a carpet sprinklud with the fleurs-de-lis.
The arm-chair of the Secretaries was lowered; the president was
* The speech of Monsieur at the Hotel de Ville contains a passage too important
not to be quoted here.
" As to my [iriv.ite opinions," said this august personage, " I shall speak of them
with confidence to my ieliow-citizens. Ever since the day that, in the second As-
seni!)ly of Notables, 1 declared my sentiments respecting the fundamental quostion
which divided people's minds, I have not ceased to believe that a great revolution was
at hand : that the King, by his intentions, his virtues, and his supreme rank, ought to
be the head of it, since it could not bo benelicial to the nation without being equally
so to the monarch ; in short, that the royal authority ought to be the rampart of the na-
tional liberty, and the national liberty the basis of the royal authority. I challenge
vou to produce a single one of my actions, a single one of my expressions, which
has contradicted these principles, which has shown that, in what circumstances soever
[ have been placed, jhe happiness of the King and that of the people have ceased to
be the sole object of my thoughts and ray views. 1 have therefore a right to be be-
lieved on my word. I never have changed my sentiments and principles, and 1
never will change them."
126 HISTORY OF THE
standing beside the seat whicJi lie usually occupied. " Here is the
King!" suddenly exclaimed the door-keepers; and Louis XVI. in-
stantly entered the hall. The Assembly rose at his appearance, and
he was received with applause. A concourse of spectators, quickly
collected, filled the tribunes, tln'onged all parts of the hall, and awaited
the royal speech with the utmost impatience. Louis XVI., standing,
addressed the seated Assembly : he began by referring to the troubles
to which France had fallen a prey, the efforts which he had made
to allay them, and to supply the wants of the people ; he reca-
pitulated the proceedings of the representatives, observing that he
had attempted the same things in tlie provincial assemblies ; lastly,
he showed that he had himself formerly the very same wishes which
had just been realized. He added, that he deemed it his duty to unite
more particularly with the representatives of the nation at a moment
when decrees destined to establish a new organization in the kino-dom
had been submitted to him. He would promote, he said, Avith ail his
power, the success of that vast organization ; every attempt hostile to
it should be held culpable, and opposed with all his means. At these
words, the hall rang with plaudits. The King continued ; and, re-
ferring to his own sacrifices, he exhorted all those who had been losers
to take example from his resignation, and to indemnify themselves for
their losses by the blessings which the new constitution promised to
France. But when, after vowing to defend that constitution, he added,
that he would do so still more, and that, in concert with the Queen, he
would early predispose the mind and heart of his son in favour of the
new order of things, and accustom him to seek happiness in the hap-
piness of the French, cries of attachment burst forth from all quar-
ters — all hands were outstretched towards the monarch, all eyes looked
for the mother and her son, all voices asked for them : the transport was
universal. At length the King concluded his speech, by recommend-
ing peace and concord to his good people, hij whom he is assured that
he is loved when those around him loish to cheer him up under his trou-
bles* At these last words all present burst forth into exclamations of
* The speech of the King on this occasion is too remarkable not to be quoted,
with some remarks. That excellent and too unfortunate prince was in a continual
hesitation, and^ at certain times, he perceived very clearly his own duties and the
faults of the court. The tone which pervades the speech delivered by him on the 4th
orFebruary proves siitiiciently that in this instance his words were not {jrompted,
and tliat he expressed himself with a due sense of his actual situation.
•■ Gentlemen, the critical circumstances in which France is placed, bring me among
you. The progressive relaxation of all the bonds of order and subordination, thesus-
pension or the inactivity of justice, the discontents arising from individual privations,
the unfortunate oppositions and animosities which are the inevitable consequences of
long dissensions, the critical state of the tinances. and the uncertainty respecting the
public fortune ; in short, the general agitation of minds, all seem to concur in exciting
uneasiness in the true friends to the prosperity and happiness of the kingdom.
•• A grand goal is presented to your view, but it is requisite that it be attained
williout any increase of agitation and without new convulsions. It was, I mustsay,
in a more agreeable and a nmre quiet niatmer that I hoped to lead you to it when I
formed the design of assembling you, and of bringing together for the public wel-
fare the talents and the opinions of the representatives of the nation; but my happi-
ness and my elory are not the less closely connected with the success of your labours.
•' I have protected them by incessant vigilance from the baneful influence which the
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 127
jrrutiiude. Tlu; president made a sliort reply, in which he adverted
to tlie disturbed fcehiigs which prevailed in all hearts. The prince
was conducted back to the Tuilleries by the multitude. The Assem-
bly voted thanks to hiin and to the Queen. A new idea was started ;
disastrous circumstances amidst which you are placed might have upon you. The
disorder wiiich the former state of the finances, the discredit, the extreme scaicit) of
specie, and tiie gradual decrease of the revenue, must naturally produce: tliis disor-
der, at least in its vehemence and its excessess, has hitherto been prevented. I have
every where mitigated, and particularly in Uie capital, the dangerous cousequtMices
of the want of employment, and, notwithstanding the decay of the means of autho-
rity, I have maintained the kingdom, not in tlie (|uiet which I coidd have wishi'd —
very far from it — but in a state of tranquillity sutlicient to receive the blessing of a
wise and well-regulated liberty. Lastly, notwithstanding our generally known situa-
tion at home, and notwithstanding tiie political storms which are agitating other na-
tions, I have preserved peace abroad, and kept up with all the powers of Europe the
relations of good-will and amity, which are capable of rendering that peace more
durable.
" After having thus preserved you from great calamities, which might so easily
have thwarted your efforts and your labours, 1 thiidc the time is come wlien it is of
importance to the interests of the state ihut I should associate myself, in a more ex-
press and manifest manner, in the execution and success of all that you have planned
for the benefit of France. I cannot seize a more signal occasion than that when you
submit to my acceptance decrees destined to establish a new organization in the king-
dom, which must have so important and so propitious an influence on the happiness
of my subjects, and on the prosperity of this em[)ire.
" You know, gendemen, it is more than ten years ago that, at a time when the
wishes of the nation relative to provincial assemblies had not yet be(>n expressed, I
began to substitute that kind of adnunistration for the one, whicfi ancient and long
habit had sanctioned. Experience having taught me that I have not erred in the
opinion which I had formed of the utility of these establishments, I strove to extend
the same benefit to all die provinces of my kingdom; and, in order to insure gen-
eral confidence to the new administrations, I determined that the members who were
to compose them should be freely elected by all the citizens. You have improved
upon these views in several ways; and the most essential, no doubt, is ilial equal
and wisely-calculated subdivision, which, by breaking down the ancient i)arlitions
between province and province, and establishing a general and complete system of
equilibrium, more intimately unites all the parts of the kingdom in one and the
same spirit, and one and the same interest. This grand idea, this salutarv design,
are entirely your own . it required nothing less than a union of opinions on the part
of the representatives of the nation ; it required nothing less than their just ascen-
dency over the general sentiments, to undertake with confidence a clianjie of such
vast importance, and to vanquish in the name of reason the opposition of habit and
of private interests."
AH that the King here says is perfectly just and sincere. It is true that he had
formerly attempted all the improvemeiUs of his own accord, and that he had set a rare
example among princes — that of anticipatnig the wants of their subjects. The com-
mendations which he bestows on the new territorial division bear also the character
of entire sincerity, for it was certainly beneficial to the government, by destroving the
opposition which particular localities had frequently made to it. Every thing induces
us therefore to believe that the King here speaks vvitii perf(;ct sincerity. He proceeds :
" I will promote, I will second, by all the means in my power, the success of that
vast organization, on which depends die welfare of France ; and I think it necessary
to observe, that I am too attentive to the internal condition of the kingdom, my eyes
are too open to the dangers of all kiiuls by which we are encompassed, not to be
deeply sensible that, in the present disposition of minds, and considering the actual
state of public affairs, it is requisite that a new order of things should be established
quietly and peaceably, or the kingdom may be exposed to all the calamities of
anarchy.
" Let well-disposed citizens reflect on this, as I have done, fixing their attention ex-
clusively on the welfare of the state, and they will perceive, even in spite of the in-
ference of opinion, t^at a paramount interest must this day unite them all. Time
128 HISTORY OF THE
Louis XVI. had enj^aged to uphold the constitution ; it was fitting that
the deputies should bind themselves to do the same. The civic oath
was therefore proposed, and every deputy came forward to swear to be
faithful to the nation, to the law, and to the King ; and to uphold with
will remudy what may yet remain defective in the collection of the laws which shall
have heeii the work of this Assembly."
This indirect and delicate censure proves that the King had no intention to flatter,
but to speak the truth, observing at the same time the necessary measure.
" But every enterprise that should tend to shake the principles of the constitution
itself all concert tliat should aim at overthrowing them or diminishing their beneficial
influence, would serve only to introduce among us the frightful evils of discord;
and, supposing such an attempt against my people and myself to be successful, the
result would deprive us of the various blessings of which a new order of things
holds out a prospect to us, without supplying any substitute.
" Let US then confidently indulge the hopes which we are justified in conceiving,
and let us think of realizitig them only by unanimity. Let it be known every where
that the monarch and the representativesof the nation are united in the same interest
and in the same wish ; in order that this opinion, this firm belief, may diffuse through
the provinces a spirit of peace and good will, and that all citizens distinguished for
their honesty, all those who are capable of rendering the state essential service by
their zeal and their talents, may be solicitous to take part in the different subdivisions
of the general administration, the unanimity of which must efficaciously concur in the
re-establishment of order, and in the» prosperity of the kingdom
" We must not disguise it from ourselves ; there is much to be done to reach that
goal. A persevering determination, a general and common effort, are absolutely ne-
cessary to obtain real success. Continue your labours, then, without any other pas-
sion than that of doing good; keep your chief attention constantly fixed on the con-
dition of the people, and on the public liberty; but direct it also to the means of
soothing, of tranquillizing, ail jealousies, and put an end as speedily as possible to the
dilierent alarms which keep so many of her citizens aloof from France, and the effect
of which is in such contrast with the laws of safety and liberty that you are desirous
of establishing: prosperity will not return without the general consent. Weperceive
on every side hopes; be impatient to see also on every side happiness,
" Some day, I fondly believe, every Frenchman without exception will acknow-
ledge the benefit of the total suppression of the differences of order and condition;
when they have to labour in connnon for the public welfare, for the prosperity of
the country which equally interests all the citizens; and every one must see without
difficulty that, in order to be called henceforward to serve the state in any manner,
it will be sufficient for a man to have rendered himself remarkable by his talents
and by his virtues,
" At the same time, however, all that reminds a nation of the antiquity and the
continuity of the services of an honoured race is a distinction that nothing can de-
stroy ; and, as it is united with the duties of gratitude, those who in all classes of so-
ciety aspire to serve their country efficaciously, and those who have already had
the happiness to do so, have an interest in respecting this transmission of titles or of
recollections, the fairest of all the inheritances that can be bequeathed to one's
children,
" Neither must the respect due to the ministers of religion be allowed to be swept
away ; and when their consideration shall be principally united to the sacred truths
which are under the safeguard of order atid morality, all honest and enlightened
citizens will have an equal interest in upholding and defending it,
" No doubt those who have rdinquished their prcuniarij privileges, those who tmll no
Icmger form, as of old, an order in the state, find themselves subjected to sacrifices, the im-
portance of xchich I fully appreciate; hut I am persuaded that they will have generosity
enough to seek an indemnification in all the public advantages of which the establishment
of national assemblies holds out a hope."
The Kins continues, as the reader perceives, to impress upon all parties the advan-
tages of the new laws, and at the same time the necessity of retaining something of
the ancient. What he says to the privileged classes proves his real opinion respect-
ing the necessity and justice of the sacrifices that had been required of them, and
their resistance will be everlastingly condemned by the words contained in this
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 129
all his poioer the constitution decreed by the National Assembly^ and
accepted by the King. The supplementary members, the deputies of
commerce, desired to take the oath in their turn ; the tribunes and the
a^alleries followed their example, and on all sides nothing was to be
heard but the words, / swear it.
speech. It would be v<aiu to urge that the King was not free : the care whicli he here
tiikes to balance the concessions, counsels, and even reproaches, proves that lie s[)oke
sincerely. He expressed himself very differently when, some time afterwards, he
wished to give notoriety to the state of restraint in which he conceived himself to be.
His letter to the ambassadors, quoted hereafter, will sufficiently prove tiiis. The
thoroughly popular exaggeration which pervades it demonstrates the intention to
appear to be no longer free. But the moderation of what he says here leavi-s no
room for doubt, and what follows is so touching, so delicate, that it is impossible not
to have been felt by him, who had made up his mind to write and to deliver it.
" I too shoidd have losses to enumerate, if, amidst the most important interests of
the state, I could dwell upon personal calculations; but I find a compensation, that
satisties me, a full and entire compensation, in the increase of the national liappiness;.
and this sentiment comes from the very bottom of my heart.
•' I will defend, tiierefore, I will uphold, constitutional liberty, the principles of
wliich the public wish, in accordance with mine, has sanctioned. Itcill do more: and
i\ concert icith the (juccn, who sluires all my sentiments, I icill e.arly adapt the -.niwl ami
h^art of my son to tlie nfw order of things which cireumstances have brought nhonl. /"
will (ircustom him, from his very first years, to seek happiness in the happiness ofthr
French, and ever to acknowledge tliat, in spite of the language of flatterers, a wis'^
constitution will preserve him from the dangers of inexperience, and that a ju.st liberty
adds a tiew value to the sentiments of affection and loyalty, of which the nation has
for 90 many ages given such touching proofs to its kings.
" I dare not doubt that, in completing your work, yon will provide with wisdom
and candour for the firm establishment of the executive power, that condition without
wliich there cannot exist any durable order at home, or any consideration abroad. No
distrust can reasonably be left you : it is therefore your duty, as citizens and as faith-
ful representatives of the nation, to ensure to the welfare of the state, and to the
public liberty, that stability whicli can proceed only from an active and tutelary
authority. You will surely bear in mind that, without such an authority, all the
parts of your constitution will remain at ouce without bond and without correspond-
ence : and, in turning your attention to liberty, which you love, and which 1 love
also, you will not lose sight of this truth, that disorder in administration, by prodii-
cuig a confusion of powers, frequently degenerates, through blind violence, into tli«
most dangerous and the most alarming of all tyrannies.
•' Thus, not for my sake, gentlmnen, who weigh not what is personal to mvself
against the laws and institutions which are to regulate the destiny of the empire! but
for the very happiness of our country, for its prosperity, for its power, I exhort vou
to rid yourselves of all the impressions of the moment, which could divert you from
considering in its totality what such a kingdom as France requires, both on account
of its great extent, its immense population, and its inevitable relations with forei"n
countries.
" Neither will you neglect to turn your attention to what is required of legislators
by the manners, the character, and the habits, of a nation that has become too^'famous
in Hiiropy. from the nature of its understanding and genius, for it to appear matter of
indifference whethejr you ni)lH)ld or undermine in it those sentiments of kindness,
confidence, and generosity, which have gained it so much renown.
" Set it also an example of that spirit of justice which serves as a safeguard to pro-
perty, to that right respected by all nations, which is not the work of chance, which
springs not from the privileges of opinion, but which is closely connected with the
most essential relations of public order, and with the first conditions of social har-
mony.
"By what fatality is it that, when tranquillity began to be restored, fresh distur-
bances have spread over the provinces ? By what fatality is it that fresh outrages are
there perpetrated ? Join with ine in putting a stop to them, and let us exert "^ill our
efforts to prevent criminal excesses from sullying these days in which the felicity of
the nation is preparii^. You who possess so many means of iniluencing public
VOL. I. 17
130 HISTORY OF THE
The oath was repeated at the H8tel de Ville, and by commune after
comiiuine throughout France. Rejoicings ere ordered, which ap-
peared to be general and sincere. This was certainly a fair occasion
for the court to commence a new Hue of conduct, instead of frustrating
this, as all previous advances towards a reconciliation on the part of
the people ; but, the very same evening, while Paris was in a blaze
with bonfires kindled to celebrate the happy event, the court had be-
taken itself again to its ill-humour, and the popular deputies experi-
enced from it a reception wholly different from that which was reserv-
ed for the noble deputies. In vain did Lafayette, whose advice was
replete with good sense and zeal, repeat to the court, that the King-
could no longer waver, and that he ought to attach himself altogether
to the popular party, and strive to win its confidence ; that for this
purpose it was requisite that his intentions should not only be pro-
claimed to the Assembly, but that they should be manifested by his
minutest actions ; that he ought to show displeasure at every expres-
sion in the least degree equivocal, used in his presence, and reprove the
slightest doubt thrown out as to his real sentiments ; that he ought to
show neither restraint nor dissatisfaction, nor to leave any secret hope
to the aristocrats ; and lastly, that the ministers ought to be united,
instead of entering into rivalship with the Assembly, and obliging it to
have recourse incessantly to the public opinion. In vain did Lafay-
ette repeat these prudent counsels with respectful earnestness : the
King received his letters and thought him an honest man ; the Queen
repulsed them with petulance, and even seemed to be irritated by the
respect paid by the general. She gave a much better reception to Mi-
cojifiileiice, ctilii'ltlcn, in regard to its true interests, that people which pains arc taken to
mislead ; that good people tchich is so dear to me, and by tchich I am assured that I am
hived tchcn those around me wish to cheer me up under my troubles. All ! if it but knew
how unhappy I feel at the news of an attack upon property, or an act of violence
against persons, perhaps it would spare nietliis severe iniiiction.
" I caiuiot address you on the great interests of tlie state without urging yon to
bestow your attention, in a serious and definitive maimer, on all that relates to the
re-estabiislnnent of order in the finances, and to the tranquillity of the iniuunorable
uiultilude of citizens who are connected by some tie with the public fortune.
"It is time to allay all apprehensions; it is time to confer on this kingdom the
strength of credit which it has a right to claim. You cannot undertake every thin^
at once ; accordingly, I invite you to reserve for other times part of the benefits
which the assemblage of your talents pictures to your view ; but when you shall have
added to what you have already accomplished a wise and rational plan for the exer-
cise of justice; when you sliall have firmly laid the foundations of a perfect eqtiili-
brium between the revenue and the expenditure of the state; lastly, when you
shall have completed the work of the constitution, you will have acquired strong
claims to public gratitude; and, in the successive continuation of the national as-
semblies, a continuation founded henceforward on that very constitution, there
will be nothing more to do than to add, from year to y.'^ar, new means of prosperit>-.
May this day, on which your Sovereign comes to unite with you in the most frnnk
and cordial maimer, be a memorable epoch in the history of this empire ! It will be
so, I hope, if my ardent wishes, if my earnest exhortations can be a signal of peace
and of reconciliation between you. Let those who irouldstill keep aloof from a spirit
of concord that is become so necessary, make a sacrifice to me ofallt/te recollections which
afflict tliem ; I will repay them with my gratitude and my affection.
" Profess, all of you, from this day forward ; profess, all of you — and I will set the
example — but one opinion, -but one interest, but one will, attachment to the new con-
atitution, and an ardent desire for the peace, the happiness and the prosperity of
France."
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 131
rabeaii, who possessed more influence, but was certainly a man of less
irreproiicliahle character, than Lafayette.
The communications of Mirabeau with the court still continued.
He had even kept up an intercourse with Monsieur, whose o])inions
rendered him more accessible to the popular party, and he had re-
peated to him Avhat he never ceased to tell the Queen and M. dj
Montmorin, that the monarchy could not be saved unless by liberty.
Mirabeau at length came to terms with the court by means of an iii-
termediate agent. He declared his principles in a kind of profession
of faith ; he engaged not to swerve from them, and to support the
court so long as it should follow the same line. A considerable sala-
ry was giv(;n to him in return. Morality indeed condemns sucli trea-
ties, and insists that a man ought to do his duty for the sake of duty
alone. But was this selhng himself? A weak man would no doubt
have sold himself by sacrificing his principles; but the mighty Mira-
beau, so far from sacrificing his, brought power over to the court, and
received from it that aid which his urgent necessities and his licentious
passions rendered indispensable to him. Unlike those who give up
for a high price mean talents and a cowardly conscience, Mirabeau,
inflexible in his principles, combated by turns his own party and the
court, as if he had not expected popularity from the former, or the
means of existence from the latter. To such a point was this o]ipo-
sition carried, that historians, tmable to believe him an ally of the
court which he combated, have not fixed the date of his treaty earlier
than the year 1791, though it was concluded in the very first moutlis
of 1790. Mirabeau saw the Queen, charmed her by his superiority,
and experienced from her a reception that flattered him exceedingly.*
* Previously to this interview, the Qneen, though she dreaded his power. licKl
Mirabeau in the utmost detestation, as appears from the followinij anecdote whicii
the Duchess d' Abrantes has rehxted in her Moiwirs : " On the 7th of 3Iay, 1769, tlu-
(iueen was informed of Mirabeau's hostile intentions. M. Necker was coiisiiltt'd
about the expediency of entering into a negociation with him ; and his opinion was,
that Mirabeau was possessed of extraordinary talent, but wanted judgment ; and .M.
Necker considered him not very formidable. He therefore declined to have any
thing to do with the matter, and merely yielded 16 the Queen's wish to place at lier
disposrd a sum of money to assist the execution of her designs. Furnisiied with his
instructions and a well-stocked purse, the Count de Reb — went one morning to Mi-
rabeau, plied him with much art, and finally made him ofTors which he felt conti(l(!iit
lie woidd not hesitate to accept. But fate ordained that the man who had ;ilways
been needy and tormented by creditors, should be at that moment well supplied with
money. What was the result ? He rejected the Count de Rch — 's olFer, and asketl
him for whom he took him. He thus dismissed tlie count with all the dignity of
an ancient Greek, telling him that oilers of money could not be listened to by liim.
The count, though chagrined, did not lose hope. He knew Mirabeau well enough,
and was sure he would not remain long in his present frame of mind. Shortly
afterwards, a certain M. Jouvelet called on the Count de Reb — , and announced
to him that Jlirabeau consented to place all his influence at the disposal of the court,
but required an honourable treaty and not a paltry bargain; that he did not wish to
supersede M. Necker, but that any other department of the ministry would suit him.
On these term? he would devote himself to the court. The count, on hearing this,
went to Mirabeau, was well received, and heard all the reasons he gave for his readi-
ness to sncrificc himself by entering the ministry at such a moment. The same day,
the count saw the individual who was to speak to the Q,ueen ; and he, on the first
intelligence of the capitulation of Mirabeau — for he was really a tower of strength — ran
immediately to acquaiht herniajesty with the news. The Count de Reb — followed,
132 HISTORY OF THE
That extraordinary man had a koen rehsh for all pleasures, for those
of vanity as well as for those of the passions. It was necessary to
take him with his strength and his foibles, and to employ him for tiie
benefit of the common cause. Besides Lafayette and Mirabeau, the
court relied on Bouille, whom it is time to introduce to the reader.*
Bouille, full of courage, integrity, and talent, had all the prejudices
of the aristocracy, and was distinguished from it only by less infatua-
tion and more experience in business. Having retired to Metz, where
he commanded a vast extent of frontier and a great part of the army,
he strove to foment jealousies between his troops and the national
guard, in order that he might keep his soldiers steady to the court.t
Placed there on the watch, he scared the popular party ; he seemed
the general of the monarchy, as Lafayette was the general of the con-
stitution. The aristocracy nevertheless displeased him, the weakness
of the King disgusted him with the service, and he would have quitted
it had he not been pressed by Louis XVL to continue in it. Bouille
and when he entered the royal cabinet, the Queen advanced towards him, her coun-
tenance beaming with pleasure. • The King will be gratified by your zeal, Monsieur,
said she to the plenipotentiary : ' well, had you a good bargain of this man ? How
much has he cost?' He replied that Mirabeau, with true magnanimity, had rejected
ail propositions of a pecuniary nature. He then mentioned the appointment to the min-
istry. At this the Queen reddened, and then turned deadly pale. She closed her eyes,
and striking her forehead with her hand, exclaimed, 'A minister! Make Riquetli Mira-
beau a minister! Never, never will I allow the threshold of the King's council to be
sullied by the footsteps of such a man !' She trembled with rage. ' Let him have money
— grant him all he asks for; but to make him a minister! Is it possible that my friends
can give me this advice?' She then paced the room with every mark of agitation, re-
peating the words, 'A minister, forsooth! a minister!' The negotiation was conse-
quently broken off for a season ; for Mirabeau would not accept money, and the
Queen would not, till long afterwards, consent to grant him an interview." E.
* "The Marquis de Bouille was a gentleman of Auvergne, and a relative of La-
fayette's. After having served in the dragoons, he became colonel of the regiment
of Vexin infantry. Having attained the rank of major-general, the King appointed
him Governor-general of the Windward Islands. In 1778 he took Dominica, St.
Eustatia, and soon after St. Christopher's, Nevis, and Montserrat. On his return ho
was made lieutenant-general. In 1789 he brought back to its duty the revolted gar-
rison of Metz. On the 5th of September, in the same year, Grcgoire complained
to the Assembly, that M. de Bouille had not administered the civic oath individually,
and obtained a decree that he should be obliged to do it. In 1790 he was coiinms-
sioned to bring under subjection the garrison of Nancy, which had risen against its
chiefs; he advanced upon the town with four thousand men, and succeeded in this
enterprise, in which he showed much bravery, and which at first gained him great
praises from the National Assembly, and afterwards as many reproaches. Being
chosen by the King to facilitate his escape from Paris in June, 1791, Bouille marched
at the head of a body of troops to protect the passage of the royal family; but, by
false advices or ill-executed orders, this enterprise failed, and M. de Bouille had great
difficulty in leaving France. From Luxemburg he wrote to the Assembly a letter
full of threats, and concluded by saying, that if a hair of Louis XVI. 's head was
touched, he would not leave one stone on another in Paris. On the 13th of July
the Assembly decreed that he should be tried for contumacy, and that the papers rel-
ative to the ICing'sescapeshouldbesent to the high court of the nation. From Vienna,
whither he had first gone, Bouille passed to the court of Sweden, which gave him em-
ployment, and in the name of which he promised powerful assistance to the I-'reu'^h
princes. After the death of Gustavus III. M. de Bouille went to England, where Ik;
published some valuable papers on the Revolution. He died in London in 180:'.'
Biogriiphie Modcrne. E.
t This he admits himself in his Memoirs.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 133
was full of honour. After taking his oath, he thought of nothing but
how to serve the King and the constitution. The court, therefore,
needed I)ut to unite Lafayette, Mirabeau, and Bouille ; and through
tlieni it would have had tlie national guards, the Assembly, and the
army, that is to say, the three powers of the day. Some motives, it is
true, divided these three personages. Lafayette, full of good nature,
was ready to unite with all who were desirous of serving the King and
the constitution ; but Mirabeau was jealous of Lafayette's power,
dreaded his purity, which was so highly extolled, and seemed to re-
gard it as a reproach. Bouille hated in Lafayette his enthusiastic cha-
racter, and perhaps viewed in him an irreproachable enemy ; he pre-
ferred Mirabeau, whom he deemed more manageable and less rigo-
rous in his political creed. It was for the court to unite these three
men by removing their particular motives for keeping aloof from each
other. But there was only one bond of union, a free monarchy.
The court ought therefore to have frankly resigned itself to this only
course, :ind to have followed it up with all its might. But the court,
ever unsteady, received Lafayette coldly, without repulsing him ; paid
Mirabeau, who lectured it from time to time ; kept up Bouille's dis-
like of the Revolution ; looked to Austria with hope ; and suftered the
emifrants at Turin to take active measures. Such is the way Avith
weakness. It strives to delude itself with hopes rather than to ensure
success, and in this manner it ultimately ruins itself by exciting sus-
picions which irritate parties as much as decided opposition. It is
much better to strike than to threaten them.
In vain Lafayette, who would fain have done what the court ne-
glected to do, wrote to Bouille, his kinsman, exhorting him to serve
the throne jointly with himself, and by the only possibh; means, those
of frankness and liberty. Bouille, at the evil instigation of the court,
replied coldly and evasively, and, without attempting any thing against
the constitution, he continued to rend(;r himself formidable by the
secrecy of his intentions and the strength of his army.
The reconciliation of the 4th of February, which might have led to
such important results, was therefore useless. The trial of Favras
was concluded, and, whether from fear or from a conviction of his
guilt, the Chatelet sentenced him to be hanged. Favras displayed in
his last moments a firmness more worthy of a martyr than of an intri-
guer. He protested his innocence, and demanded permission to make
a declaration before he died. The scaffold was erected in the Place
de Greve. He was conveyed to the H6tel de V^ille, where he remain-
ed till night. The populace, eager to see a marquis hanged, impa-
tiently awaited this example of equality in punishments. Favras re-
lated that he had held communications with a high dignitary of the
state, who had engaged him to dispose the public mind favourably to-
wards the King. As this would have put him to considerable ex[)ense,
the personage in question had given him one hundred louis, which he
had accepted. He affirnied that this was the whole extent of his
crime ; and he mentioned no names. He asked, however, if the con-
fession of name^ could save him. Not satisfied with the answer that
was returned, " In that case," said he, " I will take my secret with
134 HISTORY OF THE
)iio ;" and he walked with great firmness, towards the place of execu-
tion. It was night : the Place and the gibbet itself were lighted up.
The populace enjoyed the sight, delighted to find equality even on the
scaffold. It was to them a subject for cruel jests ; and they parodied
in various ways the execution of this unfortunate man. The body of
Favras was delivered to his family, and fresh events soon caused his
death to be forgotten alike by those who had punished and those who
had employed him.
The exasperated clergy continued to excite petty disturbances
throughout France. The nobility relied much upon its influence among
tiie people. So long as die Assembly had proceeded no further than
by a decree to place ecclesiastical property at the disposal of the na-
tion, the clergy had hoped that the decree would not be carried into
execution ; and, in order to render it useless, it proposed a variety of
plans for supplying the wants of the exchequer. The Abbe Maury*
luid proposed a tax on luxury, and the Abb6 Salside had replied, by
* "Jean Siffrein Maury, prior of Lyons, abbot of La Frenade, and King's preach-
er, was born at Vabreas, in tlie county of Avignon, on the 26th of June, 1746, of a
lainily engaged in conimerco, and in the law. He came very young to Paris, where
liis talent for preacliing gained him several benefices, and he acquired reputation and
a seat in tiie Academy, by his sermons and panegyrics previous to the Revolution : at
which period he employed all his eloquence in defence of the monarchy. It has been
observed that he is almost the only person whom this line of conduct has not led to
indigence or death. In 1789 the clergy of Peronne deputed him to the States-Gene-
ral, where he displayed eloquence, erudition, and a talent for extempore speaking,
which rendered liiiii formidable to the opposite party. In the chamber ofthe clergy
he strongly objected to the union ofthe orders, and when it was etfected, he for some
time abandoned Versailles, and was arrested at Peronne, but soon released by order
ofthe Assembly, in which he again appeared. On the 13th of October, the Abbe
Maury spoke eloquently in defence of the property ofthe clergy, which it was pro-
posed to declare national. On the 9th of November, he occasioned a tremendous
connnntion by accusing the president of exclusive partiality to the left side. On the
19th of December, ho, supported by a great part of his order, protested against the
measure for making assignats payable from the property ofthe clergy. On the 23d,
lie spoke with energy against tlie admission of Jews, executioners, and players, to the
rii'^hts of citizens, representing the two latter professions as infamous. On the 24th
of February, 1791, Maury made a vigorous attack on the motion for compelling the
King and the presumptive heir to the crown to reside near the legislative body, and
ended liis speech by a shout of ' God save the King!' which was repeated by the
light side. On the 13th of May, he discussed the great question concerning the ad-
mission of people of colour to the rights of citizens, which produced considerable
effect on the Assembly, and gained him the applause of all parties. Leaving France
after the Assembly closed, Maury went to Rome, where the Pope conferred on him
the title of Bishop, and sent him to Friiiddbrt in 1792 to assist as apostolic nuncio at
the corouation ofthe emperor. In 1792, after the 10th of August, tiie Legislative
Assembly passed a decree of accusation against Maury; but it is worthy of remark
that, though one ofthe most zealous defenders of the monarchy and the clergy, he
was never an object of personal hatred to the populace. ' At least he does not seek
to betray us, but openly supports the cause be has embraced,' said the people ofthe
capital. Maury's presence of mind was remarkable. On one occasion when a Pa-
risian mol) pursued him. with the fatid cry of ' 'I'o the lamp-post!' he coolly turned
round and said, ' And when you have put me in the place ofthe lamp, do you ima-
ifine you will see the bettor?" A general laugh fullowed this remark, and Maury was
left unmolested. In 1793 he was appointed Archbishop of Nice, and the next year
he received the cardinal's hat. In the beginning of 1^05, Manry addressed a letter
to Napoleon, in which he recognised the new government. Although he himself
"scaped the scaffold by (putting France before the reign ofthe Jacobins, yet almost
the whole of Maury's family perished in one year." — Biographit Moderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 135
moving that no ecclesiastic should possess an income exceeding one
thousand crowns. The weaUhy abbe was silenced by such a proposal
On another occasion, in discussing tlie debt of the state, Cazalcs had
proposed to investigate, not the titles of each credit, but the credit itself
its origin, and its motive ; which would have been renewing bankrupt-
cv by the odious and worn-out expedient of chambres ardcntcs. 'I'he
clergy, inimical to the creditors of the state, to whom it deemed itself
sacrificed, had supported the proposal, notwithstanding the strictness
of its principles in regard to jiroperty. Maury had spoken with great
warmth, and had even violated the respect due to tlie Assembly, by
saying to some of its members that they had only the cotirage of shame.
The Assembly had taken offence at this expression, and thought of
expelling him. But Mirabeau, who had reason to suppose that the
attack was aimed at him, represented to his colleagues that each depu-
ty belonged to his constituents, and that they had uo right to exclude
any individual. This moderation befitted real superiority. It was
successful, and Maury was more severely punished by a reprimand, than
he would have been by expulsion. All these expedients for putting
the creditors of the state in the same condition as themselves, were
useless to the clergy; and the Assendjly decreed the sale of property
belonirinjj: to the crown and the church to the amount of four hundred
millions.
The clergy, rendered desperate, then circulated writings among the
people, and declared that the plan of the revolutionists was to attack
the Catholic religion. It was in the southern provinces that it hoped
to be most successful. We have seen that the first emigration liad
directed its course towards Turin. It was with Provence and Lan-
guedoc that its principal communications were kept up. Calonne,
so celebrated at the time of the Notables,* was the minister of the
* " M. Calonne was the third who had succeeded to the office of comptroller of the
flnance^^ from the dismissal of M. Necker. He was confessedly a man of ability, and
had tilled successively the otlice of intendant of Metz, and of the province of Flanders
and Artois. The public, however, saw with disftust and apjirehension the wealth of
the nation fall into the hands of a man who had dilapidated his own patrimony ; who,
inconsiderate in character, and immoral upon system, had dishonoured his talents hy
his vices, and his dignities by the baseness of his conduct; and who, while he exer-
cised the oilice of procurenr-general of the parliament of Douay, had deirraded him-
self so far as to act the spy of the minister with respect to the procureur-general of
the parliament of Bretagne, and had the insolence to sit as the judge of that respecta-
ble niagi.-itrate, whom he had calumniated; anil who, grown gray in the intrigues of
gallantry and of the court, came with a flock of needy sycophants to dexonr the reve-
nues of the nation under the pretence of administeiing them. The first ])art of the
career of M. Calonne was, notwithstanding, brilli;'.nt, but it was only a lirilliant de-
ception. One of his first measures was to estai)lish a sinking fund, which, by a kind
of niiniste'rial juggle, was, inacertaiu course ofyears, to discharge the whole national
debt. It was even reported by his agents that he had discovered the miraculous se-
cret of paying off the debts of the nation by — borrowing!" — Itiijjaiiial History uf th.c
French Rv.volutiun. V..
In the memoirs ascribed to the unfortunate' Princess <le Lamballe. it is asserted that
ftj. de Calonne took an active part in the pufiliration of .Madame de la .Motte's work
against the (iiit'en, relative to the celebrated affair of the necklace. It is there said
also, that Sheridan, having accidentally seen at a London bookeller's a cojiy of the
first edition corrected byapersonin Paris, supposed to be one of the King's minister.*
wrote to the Princess de Lamballe to inform her of the circumstance. A confidential
136 HISTORY OF THE
fugitive court. That court was split into two parties. The high
nobility was solicitous to maintain its empire, and dreaded the inter-
ference of the provincial noblesse, and still more that of the bour-
geoisie. In consequence, it would have recourse to none but foreign
aid to re-establish the throne. Besides, to employ religion, as the
emissaries of the provinces proposed to do, appeared ridiculous to
men who had diverted themselves for a century with the pleasantries
of Voltaire.
The other party, composed of petty nobles and expatriated citizens,
proposed to combat the passion for liberty by a still stronger passion,
fanaticism, — and to conquer single-handed, without laying itself
under obligation to foreigners. The former alleged the vindictive
nature of civil war as an excuse for foreisrn interference. The latter
maintained that the eifusion of blood was inseparable from such war,
but that it ought not to be sullied by a treason. These men, more
courageous, more patriotic, but more ferocious than the others, could
not possibly succeed in a court where Calonne ruled. As, however,
this court had need of every body, the communications between
Turin and the southern provinces were continued. It was determined
to attack the revolution by foreign as well as by civil war, and to this
end an attempt was made to awaken the ancient fanaticism of those
countries.*
agent was sent to London to piircliase this copy, which was transmitted to the Giueen
and the additions and corrections were instantly recognised as the handwriting of
M. de Calonne. His dismissal from office was the immediate consequence. E.
* In order to convey a correct idea of the emigration, and the opinions which divi-
ded it, I cainiot do betterthan quote the Memoirs of M. Fromont himself. In a vo-
lume entitled Rcciieil de divers Ecrils rclatifs a Li Rtvoluiion, 31. Fromont thus expres-
ses himself (p. 4, et scq.) :
" I repaired secretly to Turin (January, 1790^ to the French princes, to solicittheir
approbation and their support. In a council which was held on my arrival, I de-
monstrated to them that, ifihcy icoidd arm the partisans of the altar and the throne, and
make the interests of religion go hand in hand icith those of royalty, it would he easy to save
both. Though strongly attached to the faith of my forefathers, it was not upon the
non-catholics that I proposed to make war, but upon the declared foes of Catholi-
cism and royalty, upon those who loudly asserted that Jesus Christ and the Bourbons
had been talked of too long, upon those who wished to strangle the last of kings with
the intestines of the last of priests. The non-catholics icho continued faithful to the
monarchy have always found in me the most affectionate fellow-citizen, the rebel
Catholics the most implacable enemy.
" My plan tended solely to raise a party, and to give it all the e.xtensionand consis-
tency I could. The real argument of the revolutionists being force, I felt that the
real answer was force. T/ten, as at present, I was convinced of this great truth, that
II strong passion can be only stifled by a still stronger; and that religious zeal alone can
stifle the repMican mania.. The miracles which zeal for religion has since wrought
in La Vendee and in Spain prove that the philosophers and the revolutionists of all
parties would not have succeeded in establishing their anti-religious and anti-social
.system for a few years over the greater part of Europe, had the ministers of Louis
XVI. conceived such a plan as mine, or had it been sincerely adopted and supported
by the advisers of the emigrant princes.
"But, unluckily, most of the persons who directed Louis XVI. and the princes of
his house reasoned and acted only on philosophic principles, though the philosophers
and their disciples were the cause and the agents of the Revolution. They would
have fancied that they were ridiculous and dishonoured if they had uttered the single
word religion, or had employed the powerful means which it furnishes, and of which
the greatest politicians of all ages have successfully availed themselves. While the
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 137
The clersfy neglected no means of seconding this plan. The Pro-
testants in tliose parts excited the envy of the Catholics. The clergy
took advantage of these dissensions, especially during the solemni-
National Assembly strove to mislead the people, and to secure their confidence by
the suppression of feinlnl rights, of tithes, ot'the gabeUc, &c., the monarchists proposed
to bring them back to submission by an exposition of the incoherence of the new laws,
by a picture of the misfortunes of the King, and by writings above their comprehen-
sion. By these means they hoped to revive in the hearts of all the French a pure
and disinterested love for their sovereign; they imagined that the clamours of the dis-
contented would stop the enterprises of the factions, and enable the King to proceed
direct to the goal lohkh he was desirous of attaining. The worth of my advice wag
probably rated according to my station in life, and the value placed by the grandees
of the court upon their titles and their wealth."
M. Fromont continues his narrative and in another place characterizes the parties
into which the fugitive court was divided, in the following manner (p. 33):
" These honourable titles, and the attentions generally paid to me at Turin, would
have made me forget the past, and conceive the most flattering hopes for the future,
if I liad discovered prudence in the advisers of the princes, and perfect harmony
among those who had most influence on our atiairs ; but I observed with grief that
the emigration was split into two parties, one of which would not attempt a counter-
revolution hut bij the aid of foreign powers, and the other but by the royalists of the
interior.
" The first party promised that, on the cession of certain provinces to the powers,
they would furnish the French princes with armies sufficiently immerous to reduce
the factions ; that in time it would be easy to withdraw the concessions which they
had been forced to make; and that the court, by contracting no obligation to any of
the bodies of the state, would be able to dictate laws to all the French The cour-
tiers trembled lest the nobility of the provinces and the royalists of the tiers-^tat should
have the honour of setting the tottering monarchy upon its legs again. They were
aware that they would no longer be the dispensers of bounties and favours, and that
their reign wotdd be at an end as soon as the nobility of the provinces should have
re-established the royal authority at the expense of its blood, and thereby earned the
irratitude and confidence of its sovereign. Dread of this new order of things caused
tiiei.i to unite, if not to dissuade the princes from employing in any way tiie royalists of
tiie interior, at least to persuade them to fix their attention principally on the cabinets of
Europe, and to induce them to found their greatest hopes on foreign assistance. In
consequence of this dread they secretly set at work the most efficacious means for ruin-
ing the internal resources, and for thwarting the proposed plans, several of whicii were
calculated to efTect the re-establishment of order, if they had been wisely directed and
supported. This is what I myself witnessed: this is what I will some day prove by
atitlientic facts and testimonies; but the time is not yet come. In a conference held
aliout this very time on the subject of the advantage to be derived from the fa-
vourable disposition of the people of Lyons and Franche Comtc, I stated without
reserve the means which ought to be employed, at tlic sajne time, to ensure the tri-
umpiiof the royalists of the Gevaudan, the Cevennes, the Vivarais, the Comtat-Ve-
iiaissin, Languedoc, and Provence. In the heattof the discussion, the Marquis
d'Autichamp, marechal-de-canip, the great champion of the powers, said to me, ' 13ut
will not the oppressed, and the relatives of the victims, seek to revenge themselves?'
— ' What signifies that,' said I, 'provided we attain our aim?' — ' See,' he exclaimed,
' how I have made him admit that private revenge would be wreaked !' With some-
thing more than astonishnieut at this observation. I said to the Marquis de Rouziere,
who sat next to me, '1 did not imagine that a civil war ought to resemble a mission
of Capuchins.' Thus it was, that, by filling princeswith the fear of rendering them-
selves odious to their bitterest enemies, the courtiers induced them to adopt half-
measures, sufficient, no doubt, to provoke the zeal of tiie royalists of the interior, but
iimst inadequate, after compromising them, to protect them from the fury of the
factions. Since that time I recollect that, while the army of the princes was in
Champagne, M. de la Porte, aide-de-camp to the Marquis d'Autichamp. having taken
prisoner a republican, fancied, agreeably to the system of his general, that he should
bring him back to his duty by a pathetic exhortation, and by restoring to him his arms
and his liberty; but noBooner had the republican got to the distance of a few paces,
VOL. I. — 18
133 HISTORY OF THE
ties of Easter. At Montpellicr, at Nimes, at Montauban, the old
fanaticism was roused in all possible ways.
Charles Lumcth complained in the tribune that the festival of
Easter had been abused for the purpose of misleading the people,
and exciting them against the new laws. At these words the clergy
rose, and would have quitted the Assembly. The Bishop of Clermont
threatened to do so, and a great number of ecclesiastics were already
on their legs, and about to retire, when Charles Lameth was called
to order, and the tumult subsided. Meanwhile the sale of the posses-
sions of the clergy was carried into execution. This was waruily
resented by them, and they omitted no occasion of manifesting their
indignation.
Dom Gerle, a Carthusian, a man perfectly sincere in his religious
and patriotic sentiments, one day desired permission to speak, and
proposed that the Catholic religion should be declared the only reli-
gion of the state. A great number of deputies instantly rose, and
were ready to vote the motion by acclamation, saying that the Assem-
bly had now an opportunity to clear itself from the charge preferred
against it of attacking the Catholic religion. Still, what was the ten-
dency of such a motion 1 It either aimed at giving a privilege to the
Catholic religion, and no religion ought to have any ; or it was the
declaration of a fact, namely, that the majority of the French were
Catholics — a fact Avhich need not have been declared. Such a motion,
tl'.erefore, could not be entertained. Accordingly, in spite of the efforts
of the nobility and clergy, the debate was adjourned to the following
day. An immense crowd collected. Lafayette, apprized that evil-dis-
posed persons intended to excite disturbance, had doubled the guard.
'I'he discussion commenced. An ecclesiastic threatened the Assem-
t!i in he levelled his conqueror with the ground. The Marquis d'Aiitichanip, nn-
iiiiiidnii of the moderation which he had displayed at Turin, burned several viihigt's
to ^isenge the death of his imprudent missionary.
*' The secoiid party maintained that, since the powers had several times taken up
arms to hundale the Bourbons, and in particular to prevent Louis XIV. from secu-
ring the crown of Spain for his grandson, so far from calling them to our aid, we
ought, on the contrary, to rekindle the zeal of the clergy, the devotion of the nobility,
the love of the people, for the King, and lose no time in quelling a family quarrel, of
which foreigners might, perhaps, be tempted to take advantage It was to this
fatal division among the leaders of the emigration, and to the unskilfulness or the
treachery of the ministers of Ljjuis XVI., that the revolutionists owed their tirst suc-
cesses. I will go still farther, and assert that it was not the National Assembly which
effected the Revolution, but those who were about the King and the princes. I
maintain that the ministers delivered up Louis XVI. to the enemies of royalty, as
certain dabblers have delivered up the princes and Louis XVIII. to the enemies of
France. I maintain that the majority of the courtiers about Louis XVI. and Louis
XVIII., and the princes of their house, were and are charlatans, real political eunuchs ;
that to their listlessness, their cowardice, or their treason, are to be imputed all the
oalainilics which France has suffered, and those which still threaten the world. If I
had borne a great name, and had belonged to the council of the Bourbons, I should
not have outlived the idea that a horde of base and cowardly brigands, none of whom
have displayed any kind of genius or superior talent, should have contrived to
overthrow the throne, to establish their domination over several powerful .-states of
Europe, and to make the world tremble. When this idea haunts me, I bury myself
in the obscinity of my station, that it may screen me from censure, as it has withheld
from me the power to arrest tlie progress of the Revolution."
FIIENCH REVOLUTION. 139
bly with malediction. Maiiiy uttered his usual cries. Menou calmly
replied to all the repruaclies brouiiht ai^ainst the Assembly, and said
that it could not reasonably be accused of an intention to al)olish the
Catholic religion, at the very moment when it was making the cost of
its worship an item in the public expenditure. He proposed, there-
fore, to pass to the order of the day. Dom Gerle was persuaded to
Avithdraw his motion, and excused himself for having excited such a
tumult. M. de la Rochefoucault submitted a motion differently
worded, which succeeded that of Menou. All at once a member of
the right side complained that the Assembly was not free. He called
upon Lafayette, and inquired why he had doubled the guard. The
motive was not suspected, and it was not the left side that could be
afraid of the people, for it was not his own friends that Lafayette sought
to protect. This appeal increased the tumult ; the discussion never-
theless continued, in the course of the debate Louis XIV. was men-
tioned. " I am not surprised," exclaimed Mirabeau, " that reference
should be made to the reign in which the edict of Nantes was revoked ;
but consider that, from this tribune whence I address you, I see that
fatal window, where a king, the murderer of his subjects, mingling
wordly interests with those of reli<rion, gave the signal for the massacre
of St. Bartholomew!" This terrible apostrophe did not put an end to
the discussion. It lasted some time longer, and the motion of the
Duke de la Rochefoucault was finally adopted. The Assembly
declared that its sentiments were known, but that, out of regard for
the liberty of conscience, it neither could nor ought to deliberate on
the motion submitted to it.
Scarcely had a few days elapsed before a new expedient was em-
ployed to threaten and to dissolve the Assembly. The new organi-
zation of the kingdom was completed ; the people were about to be
convoked to elect their magistrates, and it was conceived that they
might as well choose at the same time new deputies instead of those
who composed the Assembly then sitting. This plan, proposed and
discussed before, had already been rejected. It was again brought
forward in April, 1790. Some of the instructions limited the powers
to one year; and the deputies had actually been nearly a year assem-
bli'd. They had met in May, 1789, and it was now near the month
of A])ril, 1790. Though the instructions had been annulled, and they
had bound themselves not to separate before the comi)letion of the
constitution, these men, for whom there was neither decree passed
nor oath taken, proposed to have other deputies elected, and to give
Uj) tlieir places to them.
Maury, charged to propose this measure, played his part with more
assurance than ever, but with more address than usual. He apjxialed
to the sovereignty of the people, and said that they could no longer
put themselves in the place of the nation, and prolong powers which
wt'Tc but temporary. He asked by what right they had invested
•themselves with sovereign attributes ; he insisted that this distinction
between the legislative and constituent power was a chimerical dis-
tinction ; that a sovereign convention could not exist unless in the
absence of all government ; and that, if the Assembly were that con-
140 HISTORY OF THE
vention, it had only to depose the King, and to declare the throne
vacant. Loud cries interrupted these words, and expressed the gene-
ral indignation. Mirabeau then rose with dignity. " We are asked,"
said he, " since what time the deputies of the people have become a
National Convention. I answer, from the day when, finding the
entry to their seats encompassed by soldiers, they went and met in
the first place where they could assemble, to swear to perish rather
than to betray and abandon the rights of the nation. On that day,
the nature of our powers, whatever they were, was changed. Be
the powers that we have exercised what they may, our eftbrts, our
labours, have legitimated them. The adhesion of the whole nation
has sanctified them. All of you recollect the expression of that great
man of antiquity, who had neglected the legal forms for saving the
country. Called upon by a factious tribune to say if he had observed
the laws, he replied, ' I swear that I have saved the country.' Gen-
tlemen," added Mirabeau, addressing the deputies of the commons,
" I swear that you have saved France !"
At this magnificent oath, says Ferri^res, the whole Assembly, as if
under the influence of a sudden inspiration, closed the discussion,
and resolved that the electoral bodies should not proceed to the elec-
tion of new deputies.
Thus was this new scheme frustrated, and the Assembly enabled
to proceed with its labours. Disturbances nevertheless continued
throughout France. The commandant De Voisin was murdered by
the people. The forts of Marseilles were seized by the national
guard. Commotions originating in a different spirit took place at
Nimes and Montauban. Emissaries from Turin had excited the
Catholics ; they had delivered addresses, in which they declared the
monarchy in danger, and insisted that the Catholic religion should
be declared the religion of the state. A royal proclamation had in
vain replied. They liad rejoined. The Protestants had come to
blows with the Catholics on the subject ; and the latter, waiting in
vain for the promised aid from Turin, had been at length repulsed.
Several of the national guards had set themselves in motion to assist
the patriots against the insurgents ; the combat had thus commenced,
and the Count de Mirabeau, the declared adversary of his illustrious
brother, announcing the civil war from the tribune, seemed by his
motions, his gestures, and his words, to excite it amidst the Assembly.
Thus, while the more moderate deputies strove to allay the revo-
lutionary ardour, an indiscreet opposition excited a fever, which
repose might have reduced, and furnished the most vehement popu-
lar orators with pretexts. The violence of the clubs increased in
consequence. That of the Jacobins, the offspring of the Breton
club, at first established at Versailles, afterwards at Paris, surpassed
the others in numbers, talents, and violence. Its sittings were fre-
quented like those of the Assembly itself. Here met the principal
popular deputies, and here the most obstinate of them fonnd excite-
ments. Lafayette, with a view to counteract this terrible influence,
had combined with Bailly and the most enlightened men to form
another club, called the club of 1789, and subsequently that of the
FRENCH REVOLUTION 141
Fouillaus. But the remedy was powerless. An assemblage of a
ImndrLd cool, well-informed persons, could not attract tht multitude,
like the club of the Jacobins, where all the popular passions were
allowed full scope. To shut up the clubs would have been the only
course ; but the court had too little frankness, and excited too little
mistrust, for the popular party to think of resorting to such an expe-
dient. The Lameths were at the head of the club of the Jacobins.
Mirabeau was as often at the one as at the other; and it was evident
to every one that his place was between all the parties. An occasion
soon occurred, on which he assumed a more decided character, and
gained a memorable advantage for monarchy.
The French revolution beijan to attract the attention of foreig-n
sovereigns ; its language was so lofty, so firm, and it had a character
of such generality, that foreign princes could not but be alarmed at
it. Up to this time it might have been taken for a temporary agita-
tion ; but the success of the Assembly, its firmness, its unexpected
constancy, and, above all, the prospect which it held forth to France,
and to all nations, could not fail to draw upon it both respect and
hatred, and to engage the notice of cabinets. Europe was then di-
vided between two great hostile leagues ; the Anglo-Prussian league
on the one hand, and the imperial courts on the other,
Frederick William had succeeded the great Frederick to the throne
of Prussia. This prince, fickle and weak, renouncing the politics of
liis illustrious predecessor, had forsaken the alliance of France for
thdt of England. United with the latter power, he had formed that
famous Anglo-Prussian league, which attempted such great things,
and executed none of them ; which excited Sweden, Poland, and the
Po"t(;, against Russia and Austria, then abandoned all those whom it
had so excited, and even assisted in despoiling them by the partition
of Poland.
The plan of England and Prussia united, had been to ruin Russia
and Austria, by raising against them Sweden, where reigned the chi-
valrous Gustavus, Poland groaning under a former partition, and the
Porte smarting from Russian invasions. The particular intention
of England, in this league, was, without declariuir war against France,
to revenge herself for the assistance afforded to the American colonies.
She had found the means of doing so in setting the Turks and the
Russians at variance. France could not remain neuter between these
two nations, without alienating the Turks, who reckoned upon her,
and without losing her commercial preponderance in the Levant. On
the other hand, by taking part in the war, she should lose the alliance
of Russia, with which she had just concluded a most advantageous
treaty, which ensured her supplies of timber, and of all the articles
that the North furnishes in abundance for the navy. Thus in either
case France must sustain injury. Meanwhile England was equipping
her forces, and preparing to employ them according to circunistances.
Moreover, observing the derangement of the finances iinder the No-
tables, and the popular excesses under the Constituent Assembly,
she conceived that she should have no occasion for war ; and it has
been thought that 'ihe would have been better pleased to destroy
142 HISTORY OF THE
Frnnce by means of internal disturbances than by arms. Hence she
lias always been charged with encoura<ring our dissensions.
Tills Anglo-Prussian league had occasioned some battles to b*;
fought, with doubtful success. Gustavus had extricated himself hke
a hero from a position into which he had broughthimself like an adven-
turer. Holland, which had risen against the stadtholder, had been again
subjected to him by English intrigues and Prussian armies. England
had thus skilfully deprived France of a powerful maritime alliaiicf: ;
and the Prussian monarch, who sought triumphs of vanity only, had
revenged an outrage committed by the states of Holland against tlie
wife of the stadtholder, who was his own sister. Poland completed
her constitution, and was about to take up arms. Turkey had been
beaten by Russia. Meanwhile the death of Joseph H., Emperor of
Austria, which happened in January, 1790, had changed the aspect of
thinirs. He had been succeeded by Leopold, that enlightened and
pacific prince, whose happy reign had blessed Tuscany. Leopold,
clever as he Avas wise, wished to put an end to the war ; and in order
to succeed the better, he employed the resources of seduction, which
had such power over the fickle imagination of Frederick "William.
Representations were made to that prince, picturing the blessings of
peace, the evils of war which had so long pressed heavily upon his
people, and, lastly, the dangers of the French revolution, which pro-
claimed such mischievous principles. Ideas of absolute power were
awakened within him ; he was even led to conceive hopes of chas-
tising the French revolutionists, as he had chastised those of Holland.
He suftered himself to be persuaded at the moment he was about to
reap the advantages of that league, so boldly planned by his minister
Hertzberg.
It was in July, 1790, that peace was signed at Reichenbach. In
August Russia made her's with Sweden, and then had to cope only
with Poland, which was far from formidable, and the Turks, who
were beaten at all points. We shall notice hereafter these various
events. Thus then the attention of the powers was almost exclusively
directed to the French revolution. Some time before the conclusion
of peace between Prussia and Leopold, when the Anglo-Prussian
league threatened the two imperial courts, and secretly injured France,
as well as Spain, our constant and faithful ally, some English vessels
were seized by the Spaniards in Nootka Sound. Warm remon-
strances were made, and followed up by a general armament in the
English ports. Spain, appealing to treaties, immediately applied to
France for assistance, and Louis XVI. ordered the equipment of fif-
teen sail. England was accused of wishing, on this occasion, to
increase our embarrassments. The clubs of London, it is true, had
several times complimented the National Assembly, but the cabinet
left a few philanthropists to indulge in these philosophic effusions, and
was meanwhile paying, it is said, those astonishing agitators who ap-
peared every where, and gave so much trouble to the national guards
of the kingdom.
The disturbances were still greater at the moment of the general
FRENCH REVOLUTION. ^43
armament, and people could not help perceivino^ a connexion be-
tween the threats of England and a renewal of the commotions.
Lafayette, in particular, who never spoke in the Assembly but on
subjects which concerned the public tranquillity, denounced from the
tribune a secret influence. " I cannot forbear directing the attention
of the Assembly," said he, " to that new fermentation which mani-
fests itself from Strasburg to Nimes, and from Brest to Toulon, and
which the enemies of the people would in vain attribute to them,
since it bears all the characteristics of a secret influence. If we talk
of establishing departments, the country is laid waste. If neigh-
bouring powers begin to arm, disturbances immediately break out
in our ports and in our arsenals." Several commandants had in fact
been murdered, and either through accident or design, the best officers
in our navy had been sacrificed. The English ambassador had been
directed by his court to repel these imputations. But every one
knows what confidence is due to such messages. Calonne, too, had
written to the King,* to justify England ; butCalonne's testimony in
fjivour of a foreign countiy was liable to suspicion. He urged to no
purpose that every expense is known in a representative government,
that even secret expenses are at least acknowledged as such, and tiiat
there was no item of that kind in the English budgets. Experience
has proved that even responsible ministers are never without iiionev.
The most that can be said is, that time, which reveals every thing, has
revealed nothing on this head, and that Necker, whose situation
(jualified him to judge, never believed in this secret influence.t
The Ring, as we have just seen, had notified to the Assembly the
equipment of fifteen sail of the line, thinking that it would approve of
that measure and vote the necessary supplies. The Assembly ofave the
most f ivQurable reception to the message, but perceived that it involved
a constitutional question, which it behooved it to resolve, before it re-
plied to the King. " The measures are taken," said Alexandre La-
meth ; " our discussion cannot delay them ; we must therefore first de-
cide whether the King or the Assembly shall be invested with the ri'dit
of making peace or war." it was, in fact, almost the last important pre-
rogative to be determined, and one of those which could not but excite
the strongest interest. The imaginations of men were filled with the
blunders of courts; and they were against leaving to the throne the power
of plunging the nation into dangerous wars, or dishonouring it by base
compromises. Nevertheless, among all the duties of government, the
making of war and peace is that which involves the most action, and
over which the executive power ought to exercise the most influence ;
it is that in which it must be left most liberty, that it may act freely
and properly. The opinion of IMirabeau, who was said to have been
gained by the court, was known beforehand. The opportunity was
favourable for wresting from the orator his much-envied popularity.
* See L' Armoire dc Fer, No. 25. Letter from Calonne to the Kiii<r, (?;.tod \DriI
9, 1790. " ^
* See what Madame de Stael says in her ConsicUratums stir la Revolution Fran-
caise. >
144 HISTORY OF THE
The Lametlis were aware of this, and liad charged Barnave to crush
Mirabeau. The right side drew back, as it were, and left the field
clear for those two rivals.
The discussion was awaited with impatience : it commenced.
After several speakers had thrown out merely preliminary ideas, Mi-
rabeau addressed the Assembly, and placed the question in a new
light. War, according to him, is almost always unforeseen. Hostil-
ities commence before threats. The King, charged with the public
safety, ought to repel them, and thus war is begun before the Assembly
has time to interfere. The same is the case with treaties. The King
alone can seize the proper moment for negotiating, for conferring, for
disputing with other powers ; the Assembly can but ratify the condi-
tions obtained. In either predicament, the King alone can act, and the
Assembly approve or disapprove. Rlirabeau therefore thought that the
executive power should be held bound to prosecute the hostilities
commenced, and that the legislative power should, as the case might
be, allow the war to continue, or demand peace.
This opinion was applauded, because Mirabeau's opinion always
was. Barnave nevertheless rose, and, without noticing the other
speakers, merely answered Mirabeau. He admitted that tlie sword
is frequently drawn before the jiation can be consulted, but he main-
tained that hostilities are not war; that the King ought to repel them,
and, as speedily as possible, to apprize the Assembly, which then, as
sovereign, declares its own intentions. Thus the whole difterence lay
in the words, for Mirabeau gave to the Assembly the right of disapprov-
ing the war, and requiring peace, Barnave that of alike declaring both ;
but in either case the decision of the Assembly was to be obligatory,
and Barnave allowed it no more right than Mirabeau. Barnave was
nevertheless applauded and carried in triumph by the populace, and
it was alleged that his adversary was sold. A pamphlet, entitled
" Great Treason of the (-ount de Mirabeau," was hawked about the
streets with loud cries. The occasion was decisive ; every one ex-
pected an effort from the terrible champion. He demanded permis-
sion to reply, obtained it, ascended the tribune in the presence of an
immense multitude assembled to hear him, and declared, as he went
up to it, that he would come down again either dead or victorious.
" I too," he began, " have been borne in triumph, and yet they are
crying to-day, the great ti'eason of the Count de Mirabeau. I needed
not this example to learn that it is but a step from the Capitol to the
Tarpeian rock. Yet these strokes from below shall not stop me in
my career." After this impressive exordium, he intimated that he
should reply to Barnave only, and he thus proceeded : " Explain your-
self," said he to him ; " you have in your opinion limited the King to
the notification of hostilities, and you have given to the Assembly
alone the right of declaring the national will on that point. There I
stop you, and recal you to our principles, which share the expression
of the national Avill between the Assembly and the King In
attributing it to the Assembly alone, you have transgressed against
the constitution. I call you to order . . . You answer not I
shall continue."
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 145
No answer could in fact be given. Throughout a long reply, Bar-
nave remained exposed to these thundering apostrophes. Mirabeau
answered him article by article, and demonstrated that Baniave had
not given to the Assembly any thing more than he had himself given
to it ; but that, by limiting the King to a mere notification, he had de-
prived him of his necessary concurrence in the expression of the na-
tional will. He concluded by reproaching Barnave with those ciili)a-
ble rivalries between men, who, he said, ought to live like true com-
rades in arms. Barnave had enumerated the partisans of his opinion,
Mirabeau in his turn mentioned his. He pointed out among them
those moderate men, the first founders of the constitution, and who
tfilked to the French of liberty, while his base calumniators were
sucking the milk of courts, (alluding to the Lameths, who had received
favours from the Queen,) " men," added he, " who will boast while
they live of their friends and of their enemies."
Mirabeau's speech gained unanimous applause. There was in the
Assembly a considerable number of deputies who belonged neither
to the right nor to the left side, but who, without espousing any par-
ty, decided upon the impression of the moment. It was they whO'
gave the victory to genius and reason, because they created a majori-
ty on which side soever they voted. Barnave would have i-eplied ;:
the Assembly opposed his intention, and insisted that the question
should be put to the vote. The decree of Mirabeau, ably amended by
Chapelier, had the preference, and was finally adopted to the general
satisfaction ; for these rivalries did not extend beyond tiie circle in
whicii they originated, and the popular party conceived that it con-
quered just as well with INIirabeau as with tiie Lameths.
The decree conferred on the King and the nation the right of
making peace and war. To the Ring was assigned the disposal of
the forces. He was to notify the commencement of hostilities ; to c;ill
together the Assembly if it was not sitting, and to propose the de-
cree of peace or war. The Assembly was to deliberate an his ex-
press proposition, and the King was afterwards to sanction its deliber-
ation. It v/as Chapelier, who, by a very judicious amendment, liatl
required the express proposition and the definitive sanction. This
decree, conformable with reason, and with the principles already es-
tablished, excited sincere joy among the constitutionalists, and foolish
hopes among the counter-revolutionists, who imagined that the pub-
lic mind was about to change, and that this victory of INIirabeau was
to become their own. Lafayette, who, on this occasion, had joined
Mirabeau, wrote on the subject to Bouill6, held out to him hopes of
tranquillity and moderation, and strove, as he always did, to reconcile
him to the new order of things.
The Assembly continued its financial labours. They consisted
in disposing to the best advantage of the property of the clergy, the
sale of which, long decreed, coidd not be prevented, either by pro-
tests, or by pastoral charges, or by intrigues. To dispossess a too
powerful body of a great portion of the territory of the kingdom —
to divide it in the best possible manner, so as to fertilize it by division ;
to nuike landed proprietors of a considerable portion of the people
VOL. I. 19
146 HISTORY OF THE
who were not such ; lastly, to extinguish by the same operation the
debts of the state and to restore order in the finances — such were the
objects of the Assembly, and it was too sensible of their utility to be
deterred by obstacles. The Assembly had already ordered the sale
of crown and church property to the amount of four hundred mdlions,
but it was necessary to find means to dispose of these possessions
without lowering their value by putting them up to sale all at once.
Bailly proposed, in the name of the municipality of Paris, a plan
that was ably conceived, namely, to transfer these possessions to the
municipalities, which should purchase them in a mass, for the pur-
pose of selling them again by degrees, so that the sales of the whole
might not take place at once. The municipalities not having funds
to pay immediately, should give bills at a certain date, and the cre-
ditors of the state were to be paid with bans on communes, which
they were required to pay off in succession. These bons, which in
the discussion were called municipal paper, furnished the first idea of
the assignats.
In following up Bailly's plan, the Church property was invaded ;
it was to be divided among the communes, and the creditors were to
be brought nearer to their pledge by acquiring a claim upon the mu-
nicipalities, instead of having a claim upon the state. The guaran-
tees would therefore be augmented, since the payment was to be
brought nearer ; it would even depend upon the creditors to effect
it themselves, since with these bons or assignats they could acquire a
proportionable value in property put up to sale. Thus a great deal
would have been done for them. But this is not all. They might
not choose to convert their bons into land, either from scruples or
from any other motive. They would then be obliged to keep their
bons, which, as they could not circulate like money, would be mere
unpaid obligations. There remained but one more measure to be
taken, which was, to give to these bons or obligations the faculty of
circulation. They would then become really and truly money, and
the creditors, being enabled to pay with them, would be actually re-
imbursed. Another consideration was decisive. There was a scar-
city of specie. This was attributed to the emigration which carried
away a great deal of ready money, to the payments that had to be
made to foreigners, and lastly to malevolence. The real cause was
the want of confidence occasioned by the disturbances. Specie is
apparent by the circulation. When confidence prevails, the activity
of the exchange is extreme ; money moves about rapidly, is seen
every where, and is believed to be more considerable because it is
more serviceable ; but when political commotions create alarm, capi-
tal languishes, specie moves slowly ; it is frequently hoarded, and
complaints are unjustly made of its absence.
The desire to provide a substitute for metallic specie, which the
Assembly considered scarce, by putting into the hands of the credit-
ors, something better than a dead obligation, and the necessity of
supplying a multitude of other urgent wants, caused the forced curren-
cy of money to be given to these bo7is or assignats. The creditor was
thereby paid, since he could oblige others to take the paper which he
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 147
liad received, and thus supply all his wants. If he did not choose to
purchase lands, those who had taken the circulating paper of him
would eventually buy them. The assignats which should come in
by this method were to be burned ; thus the lands of the clergy
would soon be distributed, and the paper suppressed. The assignat.-?
bore interest at so much per day, and acquired value by remaining
in the hands of those who held them.
The clergy, viewing this measure as an instrument of execution
against its possessions, strongly opposed it. Its noble and other allies,
adverse to every thing that facilitated the progress of the revolution,
ojiposed it also and cried out against paper-money. The name of
Law was brought forward, and the memory of his bankruptcy re-
vived. The comparison, however, was not just, because the value
of Law's paper-money depended on the profits to be gained by the
India Company, while that of the assignats was founded on a territo-
rial capital, real and easily convertible. Law had committed coiisid-
eral)le frauds on the court, and had greatly exceeded the presumed
amount of the Company's capital. The Assembly, on the contrary,
could not believe that, with the Jievv forms which it had just establish-
ed, such errors could take place. Lastly, the amount of the assig-
nats created, formed but a very small portion of the capital allotted
to them. But it is true enough that paper, however safe, is not like
money, a reality, or according to Bailly's expression, " a physical ac-
tuality." Specie carries its own value along with it. Paper, on the
contrary, requires one more operation, a purchase of land, a realiza-
tion. It must therefore be below specie, and as soon as it is below
it, money, which nobody will give for paper, is hoarded, and at length
disappears. If, moreover, abuses in the administration of the pro-
perty, and in moderate issues of paper, destroy the proportion be-
tween the circulating medium and the capital, confidence vanishes ;
the nominal value is retained, but the real value ceases ; he who gives
this conventional money robs him who receives it, and a great crises
ensues. All this was possible enough, and with more experience
would have appeared certain. As a financial measure, the issue of
assignats was therefore highly censurable ; but it was necessary as a
political measure ; for it supplied urgent wants, and divided property
without the aid of an agrarian law. The Assembly, therefore, had
no reason to hesitate ; and, in sjjite of Maury and his partisans, it
decreed four hundred millions of forced assignats with interest.
Necker had long since lost the confidence of the King, the former
deference of his colleagues, and the enthusiasm of the nation.*
* " In passing through Geneva, the First Consul had an interview with 51. Neck-
er. I know not how it happened, but at the time he did not speak to nie of this in-
terview. However, I was curious to know what he thouglit of a man who had ac-
quired so much celebrity in France. One evening, when we were talking, first of
one thing, and then of another, I managed to turn the conversation on that subject.
" M. Necker," said ho. " appears to me very far below his reputation. He did not
equal the idea I had formed of him. I tried all I could to get him to talk, but he
said nothing remarkable. He is an ideologist — a banker. It is impossible that such
a man, can have any l^U narrow views; and besides, all celebrated people lose on a
close view."— Bourrienne's Memoirs of Napoleon. E.
1 IS HISTORY OF THE
Engrossed by his calculations lie sometimes entered into discussion
with the Assembly. His reserve for extraordinary expenses occasion-
ed a demand for the production of the red book, the famous register,
containing, it was said, a list of all the secret disbursements. Louis
XVI. complied with pain, and caused seals to be put upon the leaves
in which were entered the expenses of his predecessor, Louis XV.
The Assembly respected his delicacy, and confined itself to the ex-
penditure of the current reign. Nothing personally concerning the
King was found. Every prodigality had been for the benefit of cour-
tiers. The Lameths were found down for a gratuity of sixty thou-
sand francs, granted by the Queen for their education. They sent
back that sum to the public exchequer. The pensions were reduced
according to the twofold proportion of services and the former con-
dition of the persons. The Assembly showed in every point the great-
est moderation. It petitioned the King to fix the civil list himself,
and it voted by acclamation the twenty-five millions which he de-
manded.
The Assembly, strong in its number, in its intelligence, in its pow-
er, in its resolutions, had conceived the immense plan of regenerating
all the departments of the state, and it had just framed the new ju-
dicial system. It had distributed the courts in the same manner as
the local administrations, by districts and departments. The judges
were left to the popular election. This last measure had been strong-
ly opposed. Political metaphysics had been again enlisted on this
occasion to prove that the judicial power was dependent on the execu-
tive, and that the King ought to appoint the judges. Reasons had
been found on both sides ; but the only one that should have been
given to the Assembly, which was on the point of making a mon-
archy, was that royalty, successively stripped of its prerogatives, be-
comes a mere magistracy, and the state a republic. But to say what
monarchy was would have been too bold, requiring concessions which
a nation never consents to make in the first moment of its awaking.
The fault of nations is to demand either too much or nothing. The
Assembly sincerely wished well to the King ; it was full of deference
for him, and manifested it on every occasion ; but it was attached to
the person, and, without being aware of it, destroyed the thing.
After introducing this uniformity into the law, and the administra-
tion, the Assembly had still to regulate the service of religion, and to
organize it like all the other systems. Thus, when it had established
a court of appeal and a superior administration in every department,
it was natural to place there a bishopric also. How, indeed, could
certain episcopal sees be suffered to comprehend fifteen hundred
square leagues, whilst others embraced but twenty ; — certain livings
to be ten leagues in circumference, whilst others numbered scarcely
fifteen houses ; and certain cures to have at the utmost but seven hun
drcd livres, whilst there were beneficed ecclesiastics, who possessed
incomes often and fifteen thousand livres "?
The Assembly, in reforming abuses, was interfering neither with
the doctrines of the Church, nor with the papal authority, since the
circumscriptions had always belonged to the temporal power. It de-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 149
lermined, therefore, to form a new division, and to subject, as of old,
both curts and bishops to the popular election. Here it was encroach-
ing on the temporal power alone, since it was the King who chose,
and the Pope who instituted the ecclesiastical dignitaries. This plan,
which was called the civil constitution of the clergy, and which drew
upon the Assembly more calumny than any thing it had yet done,
was nevertheless the work of the most pious deputies. It was Camus,
and other Jansenists, who, desirous of invigorating religion in the
state, strove to bring it into harmony with the new laws. It is cer-
taiji that, justice being every where else re-established, it would have
been strange had it not also been introduced into the ecclesiastical
administration. With the exception of Camus, and some others of
liis stamp, the members of the Assembly, educated in the school of
the philosophers, would have treated Christianity like all other reli-
gions admitted into the state, and would not have bestowed a thought
upon it. They entertained sentiments which in our present social
state it is usual not to combat, even when we do not share them.
They supported therefore the religious and sincerely Christian plan
of Camus. The clergy opposed it, alleging that it encroached on
the spiritual authority of the Pope, and appealed to Rome. The
principal basds of the plan were nevertheless adopted, and inunedi-
ately presented to the King, who asked for time that he miglit refer
to the high Pontiff. Tiie King, whose enlightened religion recog-
nised the wisdom of this plan, wrote to the Pope, with a sincere de-
sire of obtaining his assent, and thus overthrowing all the objections
of the clergy. We shall presently see what intrigues prevented the
success of his wishes.
The month of July approached. It was nearly a year since the
Bastile was taken, since the nation had seized all power, since it had
announced its intentions by the Assembly, and executed them itself,
or caused them to be executed under its superintendence. Tiie 1 4th
of July was considered as the day which had commenced a new era,
and it was resolved that its anniversary should be celebrated with
great festivity. The provinces and the towns had already set the ex-
ample of confederating, to resist with united strength the enemies of
the Revolution. The municipality of Paris proposed for the 14th of
fuly a general federation of all France, which should be celebrated in
the heart of the capital by the deputies of all the national guards and
of all the corps of the army. This plan was hailed with enthusiasm,
and immense preparations were made to render the festival worthy
of its object.
Other nations, as we have seen, had long turned their eyes upon
France. The sovereigns began to hate and fear, the people to es-
teem us. A party of foreign enthusiasts appeared before the Assem-
bly in the costume of their respective nations. Their spokesman,
Anacharsis Clootz, by birth a Prussian, a man of wayward ima-
gination, demanded, in tlu! name of tin; human race, to be admitted
into the Federation.* These scenes, which appear ridiculous to
* "J. B. De Cloot^, a Prussian baron, known since the Revolution by the name
loO HISTORY OF THE
those who are not eye-witnesses of them, make a deep impression
upon all who are. The Assembly C()ini)lie(i with the demand, and the
l*resident replied to these Ibreigners tliat they should he admitted, in
order tiiat they mi^ht be able to relate to their countrymen what they
had seen, and to make them acquainted with the joys and the bless-
ing's of liberty.
The emotion caused by this scene produced another. An eques-
trian statue of Louis XIV. represented him trampling upon the image
of several conquered provinces. " In the days of liberty," exclaim-
ed one of the Lameths, " these monuments of slavery ought not to
be endured. It is not fit that the people of Franche-Comte, when
they come to Paris, should see their image thus enchained." Maury
opposed a measure in itself unimportant, but which it was necessary
to concede to the public enthusiasm. At the same moment a mem-
ber proposed to abolish the titles of count, marquis, baron, «fcc. ; to
prohibit liveries ; in short, to suppress all hereditary titles. Young
Montmorenci seconded the motion. A noble asked what they would
substitute for the words, " Such a one was created count for services
nf Aiiachar.sis Clootz, was born at Cleves on the 24th of June, 175"), and became
tlie possessor of a considerable fortune, which he dissipated by his misconduct. He
was not destitute of abihty, but was half-crazed by his fanatical love of liberty, and
his constant habit of poring over the works of German metaphysicians. As he was
the nephew of Cornelius Parr, author of several works, he thought he nuist also be
a writer. He travelled in ditferent parts of Europe, and particularly cultivated the
society of Burke, who was then a member of the opposition in the English parlia-
ment. During the French Revolution, Clootz made himself notorious by the ab-
surd e.xtravagance of his conduct. The masquerade, known by the name of the
• Rmbassy of the Human Race,' was the first scene in which he attracted attention.
He appeared on the 19th of June, 1790, at the bar of the National Assembly, follow-
ed bv a considerable body of Parisian porters in foreign dresses, whom he presented
as deputies from all nations. He styled himself the ' Orator of the human race,' and
requested to be admitted to the Federation, which was agreed to. On t!ie 2'2d of Jan-
uary, 1792, he wrote a letter to the Legislative Assembly, beginning thus : ' The ora-
tor of the human race to the legislature of the human race sends greeting.' On the
2lst of April he delivered a ridiculous tirade at the bar relative to the declaration of
war against the King of Hungary and Hohemia ; proposed to the Assembly to adhere
for a year to a strict regimen ; and ended by olTering, what he called, a patriotic gift
of twelve thousand livres. He in consequence obt;tined the honour of a seat among
the members. On the r2t!i of .\ugust he came to congratulate the A.ssembly on
the events of the 10th, and otiered to raise a Prussian legion. On the 27th, he beg-
ged t!ie Assembly to seta price on the heads of the King of Prussia and the Duke
(if Brunswick, and delivered a long speech, in which the following expressions oc-
■Mirred : ' Charles IX. had a successor ; Louis will have none,' — ■ You know how
to value the heads of philosophers; a price yet remains to be set on those of ty-
rants.'— 'My heart is French, and ray soul sans-culotte.' The hatred of this fanatic
against the Christian religion was as fervent as that which he entertained against the
monarchy. In September, 1792, he was deputed from the Oise to the Convention,
where lie voted for the death of Louis XVI. in the name of the hiunan race ! In the
-ame year he published a work entitled ' The Universal Republic,' wherein he laid
it down as a principle ' that the people was the sovereign of the world — nay,
that it was Cod!' — • that fools alone believed in a Supreme Being!' &.C. He soon
afterwards fell under the suspicion of Robespierre, was arrested as a Hebertist, and
(ondemned to death on the 24th of March. 1794. He died with great tirmness, and,
on his way to execution, lectured Hebert on materialism, ' to prevent him,' as he
said, 'from yielding to religious feelings in his last moments.' He even asked to
be executed after all his accomplices, in order that he might have time ' to establish
certain principles during the fall of their heads.' " — Biograpliie 3lo<!erne. E,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 151
renden.d to tlie state?" — "Let it merely be said," replied Lafayette,
" that on such a day such a person saved the state." The motion
was carried, notwithstanding tiie extraordinary irritation ot" the no-
bility, whicli was more galled by the abolition of its titles than by the
more substantial losses which it had sustained since the connnence-
ment of the llevolution. The more moderate portion of the Assem-
bly had proposed that, in abolishing titles, those who chose to retain
them, should be at liberty to do so. Lafayette lost no time in appri-
sing the court before the decree was sanctioned, and advised that it
should be sent back to the xVssembly, which would consent to amend
it ; but the King instantly gave his sanction, in which some thought
they could discover the disingenuous intention of driving tilings to
extreinities.
The object of the Federation was the civic oath. It was discussed
whether the federalists and the Assembly should take the oath to the
Ring, or whether the King, considered as the highest public function-
ary should swear with all the others at the altar of the country. The
latter course was preferred. Thus did the Assembly put etiquette in
complete harmony with the laws, and the Kinff would be no more in
the ceremony than he was in the constitution. The court, which was
constantly conceiving distrust of Lafayette, was alarmed at a rumour
that was circulated, purporting that he was about to be appointed
commandant of all the national ijuards of the kinjjdom. It was but
natural that those who did not know Lafayette sliould feel this dis-
trust ; and his enemies, of all parties, strove to augment it. How, in
fact, could it be supposed, that a man possessing such popularity, at
the head of a considerable force, would not abuse it 1 jVothinji, how-
ever, was farther from his intention ; he had resolved to be nothing
but a citizen, and, whether from virtue or well-judged ambition, the
merit is the same. Human pride must be placed somewhere — it is
virtue to place it in doing what is right.
Lafayette, in order to remove the alarm of the court, proposed that
one and the same person should not command more than the guard
of one department. The motion was carried by acclamation, and
the disinterestedness of the general was warmly apj)landed. La-
fayette was nevertheless charged with the whole arrangement of the
festival, and appointed chief of the Federation, in his quality of com-
maiulant of the Parisian guard.
Tlie day approached, and the preparations were carried on with
great activity. The ceremony was to take place in the Champ de
Mars, a spacious area, extending from the Military School to the
bank of the Seine. It had been planned to remove the earth from tlie
centre to the sides, so as to form an amphitheatre capable of coiitain-
itig the mass of spectators. Twelve thousand labourers were kept at
work without intermission, and yet it was a])preliended that the oper-
ations could not be finished by the 14tli. The inhabitants tlicn pro-
posed to assist the workmen. In an instant the whole population
were transformed into labourers. Churchmen, soldiers, persons oi
all classes, took up the spade and the pickaxe. Eleirant females
themselves lenp a hand. The enthusiasm soon became general.
152 HISTORY OF THE
The people repaired to the spot by sections, with banners of different
colours, and to tlie sound of drums. On arriving, tliey niin<rled and
worked together. At nightfall, on a given signal, each rejoined his
company, and returned to his home. This fraternal harmony pre-
vailed till the work was finished. Meanwhile, the federalists kept
arriving, and they were received with the greatest kindness and hos-
[)itality. The enthusiasm was general, in spite of the alarm which the
very small number of persons who remained inaccessible to emotions
strove to excite. It was said that the brigands meant to take ad-
vantage of the moment when the people should be at the Federation
to plunder the city. It was insinuated that the Duke of Orleans, who
had i"eturned from London, entertained sinister designs. The na-
tional gayety was nevertheless undiminished, and no faith was put in
any of these evil forebodings.
The 14tli at length arrived. All the federate deputies of the pro-
vinces and the army, ranged under their chiefs and their banners, set
out from the Place of the Bastille and proceeded to the Tuileries.
The deputies of Beam, in passing the Place de la Feronnerie, where
Henry IV. was assassinated, paid him a tribute of respect, which, in
this moment of emotion, was expressed by teai's. The federalists, on
tneir arrival in the garden of the Tuileries, received into their ranks the
ninuicipality and the Assembly. A battalion of boys, armed like their
tatliers, preceded the Assembly. A body of old men followed it, and
tlius revived the memory of ancient Sparta. The procession moved
forward amidst the shouts and applause of the people. The quays
were lined with spectators. The houses were covered with them. A
bridge thrown in a few days across the Seine, and strewed with flowers,
led from one bank to the other, facing the scene of the Federa1;ion.
I'lie procession crossed it, and each took his place. A magnificent
amphitheatre, formed at the farther extremity, was destined for the
national authorities. The King and the president sat beside one an-
other on similar seats, sprinkled with golden fleurs-de-lis. Behind the
King there was an elevated balcony for the Queen and the court.
The ministers were at some distance from the King, and the deputies
ranged on either side. Four hundred thousand spectators occupied
the lateral amphitheatres. Sixty thousand armed federalists performed
their evolutions in the intermediate space ; and in the centre, upon a
base twenty-five feet high, stood the altar of the country. Three
hundred priests, in white surplices and tricoloured scarfs, covered
the steps, and were to ofticiate in the mass.
It was three hours before all the federalists had arrived. During
this intei-val the sky was overcast with clouds, and the rain fell in
torrents. That sky, whose brightness harmonizes so well with human
joys, refused at this moment serenity and light. One of the batta-
lions, as it came up, grounded arms, and conceived the idea of form-
ing a dance. Its example was instantly followed by all the others,
and in a moment the intermediate space was filled by sixty thou-
sand men, soldiers and citizens opposing gaiety of heart to the un-
favourable weather. At length the ceremony commenced. The sky
happily cleared, and threw its brilliancy over this solemn scene. The
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 153
Bishop of Autun* began the mass. The choristers accompanied
the voice of the prelate ; the cannon mingled with it their solemn
peals. Divine service over, Lafayette alighted from his horse, as-
cended the steps of the throne, and received the orders of tlie King,
who handed to him the form of the oath. Lafayette carried it to the
altar. At that moment all the banners waved, every sabre glistened.
The general, the army, the president, the deputies, cried, " I swear
it." The King, standing, with his hand outstretched towards the
altar, said : " \, King of the French, swear to employ the power dele-
gated to me by the constitutional act of the state, in maintaining the
constitution decreed by the National Assembly, and accepted by me."
At this moment, the Queen, moved by the general emotion, clasped
in her arms the august child, the heir to tlie throne, and from the bal-
cony, where she was stationed, showed him to the assembled nation.
At this movement shouts of joy, attachment, enthusiasm, were ad-
dressed to the mother and the child, and all hearts were hers. At
* "Charles Maurice Talleyrand-Perigord, minister for foreign aflFairs, ci-devant
bishop of AiUiin, Abbe of Ceiles and St. Denis, was born at Paris in 1754, and as
deputy from tlie clergy of the bailiwick of Autun, joined the meeting of the connnons
on the opening of th»i States-General. He combined with natural ability a great fa-
cihty of labour and application. His name, his dignities, and his example, operated
on a groat number of deputies, who were wholly guided by his counsels. On the
20lh of August, 17.-1), Talleyrand procured the adoption of an article concerning the
admission of all citizens, without distinction, to all offices. Three days afterwards,
he opposed the mention of divine worship in the declaration of the rigliLs of man,
and maintained that it was in the constitutional act that the holy name of the Catholic
religion ought to be pronounced. In August, October, and November, he made
speeches on the finances, in one of which he recommended the sale of Church property.
In February, 17!)0, he composed the famous address to the French, to remind them of
what the National Assembly had already done for them, and still intended to do ; and
on the 14th of July he celebrated the mass of the Federation. On the '2;tth of De-
cember, he published an address to the clergy, giving an account of the motives
which had induced him to take the constitutional oath, and exhorting them to fol-
low his example. In March and November, 1791, he joined the Abbe Sieyes in de-
fending the non-juring priests. Having been very intimate with Mirabeau, he. in the
tribune in March, 1791, read a long discourse on Inheritances, which that great
statesman had intrusted to him on his deathbed, in order that he sh(ntld connnuni-
cate it to the Assembly. Assisted by the Bishops of Lydia and Babylon, Talleyrand
consecrated the first bishops who were called constitutional, an act which drew upon
him the displeasure of the court of Rome. After the session he was sent to Kiigland
as private negotiator, in order to conclude a treaty of peace between the two nations,
but failed in his negotiation. Terrified at the blood which was so lavishly poured
forth in France, and informed also that after the 10th of August, 179'J, papers had
been found at the Tuileries which might compromise him, he retired to the United
Stvatcs. After the 9th Thermidor, 1794, he returned to Paris, became a member of
the National Institute, and in 1797 he entered on the adminstration of foreign affairs.
From that time he began to acquire great influence in the government, and was one
of those who contrived the events of the Idth Brinnaire. In Ir^O'i, after the re-
establishment of Catholic worship in France, the First Consul obtained lor Talley-
rand a brief from the Pope, which restored him to a secidar and lay life, and autho-
rized his marriage with Sirs. Grant." — Biograpliie Modcrnc.
Talleyrand remained in the administration of foreign afiairs, up to the period of
the disastrous Russian campaign, when he began to make secret overtures — at least
so it is reported of him liy Napoleon's biographers — to the Bourbons. On the F.m-
pcror's downfall, he held office for a time under Louis XVIIL, and on the expulsion
of Charles X., was appointed ambassador to England by Louis-Philippe. Within
the last two years he resigned this appointment, and now lives in comparative re-
tirement at his chateau. E.
VOL. I. — 20.
154 HISTORY OF THE
lliis very same inoinent, all France, assembled in tlie eighty-three
chief tonus of the departments, took tlie same oath to love the King
who would love them. In such moments, hatred itself is softened,
pride gives way, all are happy in the general happiness, and proud
of the dignity of all. Why, alas ! are these pleasures of concord so
soon forgotten !
This august ceremony over, the procession returned, and the peo-
ple gave themselves up to rejoicings.* These rejoicings lasted several
days. A general review of the federalists was held. Sixty thousand
men were under arms, and exhibited a magnificent sight, at once
military and national. At night Paris was the scene of a charming
jctc. The principal places of assemblage were the Champs de Ely-
sees and the Bastille. On the site of this ancient prison, now con-
* ■' In spite of plotting aristocrats, lazy, hired spademen, and almostof destiny it-
self, (lor there has been much rain), the Champ de Mars on the 13th of the month
is fairly ready. — The morning comes, cold for a July one, but such a festivity would
make Greenland smile. Through every inlet of that national amphitlieatre, (for it
is a league in circuit, cut with openings at due intervals), floods in tlie living throng;
covers without tuinnlt space after space. Two hundred thousand patriotic men,
and, twice as good, one hundred thousand patriotic women, all decked and glorified
as one can fancy, sit waiting in this Champ de Mars. What a picture, that circle
of hriglu-died life, spread up there on its thirty-seated slope; leaning, one would
say, on the thick umbrage of those avenue trees, for the stems of them are hidden
by the height; and all beyond it mere greenness of summer earth, with the gleam of
waters, or white sparklings of stone edifices. On remotest steeple and invisible village-
belfry, stand men with spy-glasses. On the heights of Chaillot are many-coloured,
undulating groups; round, and far on, over all the circling heights that imbosom
Paris, it is as one more or less peopled amphitheatre, which tiie eye grows dim witli
measuring. Nay, heights have cannon, and a floating battery of cannon is on the
Seine. When eye fails, ear shall serve; and all France properly is but one amphi-
theatre, for in paved town, and unpaved hamlet, men walk listening, till the niuliled
thunder sounds audible on their horizon, that they too may begin swearing and firing.
But now, to streams of music, come i'ederates enough — for they have assembled on
the Boulevard St. Antoijie, and come marching through the city, with their eighty-
three department banners, and blessings not loud but deep ; conies National Assem-
bly and takes seat under its canopy ; comes Royalty, and takes seat on a throne be-
side it. And Lafayette, on a white charger is here, aixl all the civic functionaries:
and the federates form dances till their strictly military evolutions and manoeuvres
can begin. Task not the pen of mortal to describe them; truant imagination droops
— declares that it is not worth while. There is wheeling and sweeping to slow, to
(piick, and double-quick time. Sieur Motier, or Generalissimo Lafayette — for they
are one and the same, and he is General of France in the King's stead for four-and-
twenly hours — must step forth with that sublime, chivalrous gait of his ; solemnly
ascend the steps of the Fatherland's altar, in sight of Heaven and of scarcely-breath-
ing earth ; and pronounce the oath, ' To King, to law, and nation,' in his own name,
and that of armed France. Whereat fliere is waving of banners, and acclaim suf-
ficient. The National Assembly must swear, standing in its place ; the King him-
self audibly. The King swears ; and now be the welkin split with vivals ; let citizens
enfranchised embrace ; armed federates clang their arms ; above all, that floating
battery speak I It has spoken — to the four corners of France ! From eminence to
eminence bursts the thunder, faint heard, loud repeated. From Arras to Avignon —
from iMetz to Bayonne ! Over Orleans and Blois it rolls, in cannon recitative ; Pay
bellows of it amid his granite mountains; Pan, where is the shell-cradle of great
Henri. .At far Marseilles, one can think, the ruddy evening witnesses it ; over the
deep blue Mediterranean waters, the castli; of If, ruddy -tinted', darts forth from every
cannon's mouth its tongue of fire; and all the people shout — Yes, France is free!
Glorious France, that has burst outso, into universal sound and smoke; and attained
— the Phrygian cap of liberty !" — Cailyk's " French Revolutmi.^' E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 1
<JO
verted into ;ui open srjiiare, was ?c't up tliis inscription : " Place
for dancing." nrilliant lani])s arraiiued in festoons, made amends
for the daylight. Opulence liad been forbidden to annoy this quiet
fete by the movement of carriages. Each was expected to make
himself one of thi; peo[)le, and to feel haj)py in being so. The
Champs Filvsees exhibited a touching scene. There every one walk-
ed about without noise, without tuumlt, witlnnit rivalry, without ani-
mosity. All classes intermingled, enjoyed themselves beneath the inild
lamp-light, and seemed delighted to be together, 'i'hus, even in the
bosom of ancient civilization, men seemed to have found anew the
times of primitive fraternity.
The federalists after attending the imposing discussions of the Na-
tional Assemblv, after witnessin<r the pomp of the court, and the
magnificence of Paris, al'ier experieiu^ing the kindness of the King,
whom they all visited, and by whom they were received with touch-
ing expressions of benevolence, returiird home in transports of in-
toxication, full of ^'ood feelings and illusions. After so many pain-
ful events, and while preparing to describe others still more terrible,
the historian dwells with ])leasure on these too transient scenes, where
all hearts had but one sejitiment, love for the public weal.*
* I liave nli-e:i(!y quoted soiivj piijes of tlio 3Iemoirs ofFerriores relative to the
first sittiiit^ of tlie States-General. As notliiiiir is more important lliaii to ascertain
the real sentiments which the Revohitioii excited. I think it right to give the descrip-
tion of the Federation by the same Ferrieres. We shall see if this enthusiasm was
genuine, if it was connimnicative, and if that Revolution was so hideous as some
have wished to make it appear.
" Meanwhile the federalists were arriving from all parts of tlie empire. They
were lodged in the liouses of private individuals, who cheerfully supplied beds, lin-
en, wooil, and all that could contribute to render their stay in the capital agreeable
and comfortable. 'J'lie uninicipalitv look precautions that so great an intlnx of stran-
gers might not disturb tlie public tranijiiillity. Twelve thousand laboiu-ers worked
incessantly at preparing the Champ de IVIar.s. Notwithstanding the activity with
which the operations was prosecuted, they advanced but slowly. It was teared that
they could not be comph^ted by the 14th of July, the day irrevocably fi.\ed for the
ceromonv, because it was the famous epoch of the insurrection of Paris, and of the
faking of the IJaslille. In this perplexity, thi.> districts, in the name of the country,
invited the good citizens to assist the workmiju. Tins civic invitation electrilied all
heads; the women shared and ])r()pagatfd the enthusiasm; scminan^sts, scholars,
nuns of the order called Sumrs da Put, Carthusians grown old in solitude, were seen
quitting their cloisters, hurrying to the Champ de Mars, with .shovels upon their
shoidders, bearing banners adorned with patriotic emblems. There all the citizens
collected, blended together, formed an immense and incessantly moving mass of la-
.bonrers, every point of which presented a varied group : the dishevelled courtesan
is plac(!d beside the modest matron, tin,' Capuchin draws the truck with the chevalier
of St. Louis ; the \)orU\r ■.indthapctU-mnitre oC l\\c Palais lioyal ; the sturdy lishwoman
drives tli(; wheelbarrow filled by the hands of the delicate and nervous lady ; wealthy
people, indigent people, well-dressed j)eoj)le, ragged people, old men. boys, come-
dians, C''«i-S'Miss«s, clerks, working ami restin:;, actors and spectators, exhibited to the
astonished eye a scene full of life and bustle; moving taverns, portable shops, in-
creased the charm and gayety of this vast and exhilarating picture; songs, shouts of
joy, the soinid of drums and military instruments, that of spades and wheelbarrows,
the voic(;s of the labourers calling to and encouraging one another 'I'he
mind lelt sinking luider the weight of a delicious intoxication at the sight of a whole
people who had descended again to the sweet sentimentsot" a primitive fraternity. . .
As soon as th<! clock struck nine, the grou[)s separated. Each citizen repaired to
the station of his section, roturiie'd to his fiinily. to his accpiainlance. Tlie bauds
marched off to the sound of druru:^, returned to Paris, preceded by torches, indul-
156 HISTORY OF THE
This toucliing festival of the federation was but a fugitive emotion.
On the morrow, all hearts still wished what they had wished the day
before, and the war had recommenced. Petty quarrels with the min-
istry again began. Complaints were made that a passage had been
ging from time to time in sallies against the aristocrats, and singing the celebrated air,
Ca ira.
At length the 14th of July the day of the Federation, arrived, amidst the hopes of some,
and the alarms and terrors of others. If this grand ceremony had not the serious and
august character of a festival at once national and religious, a character almost incom-
patible with the French spirit, it displayed that lively and delightful image of joy and
enthusiasm a thousand times more touching. The federalists, ranged by departments
under eighty-three banners, set out from the site of the Bastille; the deputies of the
troops of the line and of the navy, the Parisian national guard, drums, bands of mu-
sic, the colours of the sections, opened and closed the procession.
" The federalists passed through the rues St. Martin, St. Denis, and St. Honore,
and proceeded by the Cours la Reine to a bridge of boats constructed across the
river. They were greeted by the way with the acclamations of an immense con-
course, which filled the streets, the windows of the houses, and the quays. The
heavy rain which was falling neither deranged nor slackened the march. Dripping
with wet and perspiration, the federalists danced farandoles, shouting, "Long live
our brethren, the Parisians!" Wine, ham, fruit, sausages, were let down from the
windows for them ; they were loaded with blessings. The National Assembly joined
the procession at the Place Louis XV., and walked between the battalion of the vet-
erans and that of the young pupils of the country — an expressive image, which
seemed to concentrate in itself alone all ages and all interests.
" The road leading to the Champ de Mars was covered with people, who clapped
their hands and sang Ca ira. The Q,uai de Chaillot and the heights of Passy pre-
sejited a long aniphilheatro, where the elegant dresses, the charms, the graces, of the
women, enchanted the eye, without allowing it the faculty of dwelling upon any por-
tion of the scene in preference. The rain continued to fall ; nobody seemed to per-
ceive it ; French gayety triumphed both over the bad weather, the bad roads, and the
length of the march.
"M. de Lafayette, mounted on a superb horse, and surrounded by his aides-de-
camp, gave orders and received the homage of the people and the federalists. The
perspiration trickled from his face. A man, whom nobody knew, pushed through
the crowd, and advanced, holding a bottle in one hand and a glass in tiie other.
" General," said he, " you are hot ; take a alass." Raising his bottle, he filled a large
glass and handed it to M. de Lafayette. The general took the glass, eyed the stran-
ger for a moment, and drank off the wine at a draught. Tiie people applauded.
Lafayette, with a smile of complaisance, cast a benevolent and confiding look upon
the multitude, and that look seemed to say, ' I shall never conceive any suspicion, I
shall never feel any uneasiness, so long as I am in the midst of you.'
" Meanwhile, more than three hundred thousand persons, of both sexes, from
Paris and the environs, assembled ever since six in the morning in the Champ de
Mars, sitting on the turf-seats, which formed an immense circus, drenched, draggled,
sheltering themselves with parasols from the torrents of rain which descended upon
them, at the least ray of sunshine adjusting their dresses, waited, laughing, and chat-
ting, for the federalists and the National Assembly. A spacious amphitheatre
had been erected for the King, the royal family, the ambassadors and the deputies.
The federalists, who first arrived, began to dance farandoles ; those who followed
joined them, forming a round which soon embraced partof the Champ de Mars. A
sight worthy of the philosophic observer was that exhibited by this host of men,
who had come from the most opposite parts of France, hurried away by the impulse
of the national character, banishing all remembrance of the past, all idea of the pre-
sent, 111! fear of tlie future, mdulging in a delicious thoughtlessness, and three hun-
<'rp(l thousand spectators, of all ages, of both sexes, following their motions, beating
I'Mio with their hands, forgetting the rain, hunger, and the weariness of long waiting.
At length, the. whole procession having entered the Champ de Mars, the dance ceas-
<'i| each federalist repaired to his banner. The Bishop of Autun prepared to per-
<«irMi ma-s :ir an ;iltar in the antique style, erected in the centre of the Champ de Mars,
'i liree hundred [ riests, in white surplices, girt with broad tricoloured scarfs, ranged
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 157
jjranled to tlie Austrian troops into tlic country of Lioire. St. Priopt
was charged with having favoured the escape of several accused ])er-
s»us, wh« were suspected of counter-revohitionary macliinatious.
Thw court, out of reveng^e, again placed in the order of the day, the
themselves :it the four corners of the altar. The Bi^linp of Aiitnn blessed the on-
flammn and tlie eiirlity-three banners: he strnrlc np the Te Dcum. Twelve hnndred
nmsicians played that hvmn. Lafayette, at the head of the st;itf of the Parisian mi-
litia, and of the deputies of the army and navy, went up to the altar, and swore, in
the name of the troops and the federalists, to be faithful to the nation, to the law,
and to the King. A discharjre of four jiieces of cannon prnrlaimed to France this
solemn oath. The twelve hundred musicians rent the air with military tunes : the
colours, the banners, waved ; the drawn sabres irlistened. The president of the Na-
tional Assemblv repeated the same oath. The people and the deputies answered
with shouts of / siccar it. The King then rose, and in a loud Yoice. said. ' f.
Kinrr of the French, swrar to employ the power ddnratrd to me hy the constitutional act
of the state, in maintaining the constitittion decreed hy the National AssemhUj, and accept-
ed Inj me.' The Queen, taking the dauphin in her arms, held him up to the peojfle,
and said. ' Here is my son; he joins as well as myself in those sentiments.' Tliis uti-
e.xpected movement was repaid bv a thousand shouts of T/rr It Eoil rire la Heine'
vice M. le Dauphin ! The cannon continued to mingle their majestic voices with
the warlike sounds of militarv inslrunicnts. and the acclamations of the people.
The weather had cleared up ; the sun burst forth in all its splendour; it seemed as
if it had pleased God iiimself to witness this nmtual contract, and to ratify it by
his presence Yes, he did both see and- hear it. and the terrible calamities
which, ever since that day. have not ceased to desolate FraTice. — O Providence,
ever active and ever faithful ! — are the just punishment of perjury. Thou hast
stricken both the monarch ruid the subjects who violated their oath!
" The enthusiasm and the festivities were not coiilnied to the day of the Federa-
tion. During the stay ofthe federalists at Paris, there w;is onecontinued series of en-
tertainment^, of dances, and of rejoiciuirs. Peojile again we!)t to the Champ de Mars,
where they drank, sang, and danced. M. de Lafayette reviewed part of the national
guard ofthe departments and the army of the line. The King, the Queen, and the
dauphin, were present at thi'* review. They were greeted with acclamations. The
Queen, vvitii a gracious look, gave the federalists her hand to kiss, and showed them the
dauphin. The federalists, before they quitted tlu^ capital, went to pay their homage to
the King: all of them testified the most profounri respect, the warmest attachment.
The chief of the Bretons dropped on his knee, and presented his sword to Louis X\'I,
' Sire, 'said he, ' I deliver to vou purt? and sacred, the sword ofthe faithful Bretons: it
shall never be stained but with tiie blooil of your enemies.' — ' T'hat sword cannot be in
better hands than those of my dear Bretons,' replied Louis XVI , raising the chief
of the Rrptous, and returning to him his sword. ' 1 Iiave never doubted their affec-
tion and fidelity. Assure them, that I am the father, the brolher, the Iriend, of all
the French.' The King, deeply nu)\ed, pressed the hand of t!ie chief of the Bre-
tons, and embraced him. .\ mutual emotion prolonged for some mometits this
touching scene. The cliief of the Bretons was the first to speak. ' Sire.' said he,
' all the French, if I may judge from our hearts, love and will love you, because you
are a citizen king.'
"The municipality of Paris resolved also to give an entert.iinment to the federal-
i>;t<. There were a regatta on the river, fireworks, illumin.'ition, ball and refresh-
ments iu the Flalle an Ble. arid a ball on the site of tlu; Bastille. At the entrance of
the enclosure was an inscription, in large letters, Ici i.'ov davse ( Dancing here).
Hapnv assemblage, which formed ;i stiiking coiurast with the antique image ofhorror
and desnaiv called forth by tht* recollection of that odi(ms prison! 'I'he people went
to aiul from one of these places to the other withoiU any impediment. The police,
by jirotiibititig the circulation of carriages, prevented the accidents so common
in public festivities, as well as the tumultuous noise of horses, and wheels, and shouts of
Gave (Take care) — a noise which wearies and stuns the citizens, makes theiu every
moment afraid of being run over, and gives to the most splendid and best-regulated
fete the appearance of a flight. Public festivities are essentially for the people. It
is they alone who ot^ght to be considered. If the rich are desirous of sharing their
pleasures, let them put themselves on a level with the peoph- for that day ; so hy
158 HISTORY OF THE
proceeilings commenced at the Cliattelet against the authors of the
disturbances of the oth and 6th of October. The Duke of Orleans
and Mirabeau were impUcatcd in them. Tliese singular proceedings,
several times rehnquished and resumed, betrayed the different infiu-
enct^s under which they had been carried on. They were full of con-
tradictions, and present no sufficient charge against the two principal
persons accused. Tlie court, in conciliating Mirabeau, had never-
theless no settled plan in regard to him. It approached and with-
drew from him by turns, and sought rather to appease him than to
follow his advice.
In renewing the proceedings of the 5th and 6th of October, it was
not at him that it aimed, but at the Duke of Orleans, who had
been mucli applauded on his return from London, and whom it had
harsiilv repulsed, when he begged to be again taken into favour by the
Ring. Chabroud was to report to the Assembly, that it might judge
whetiier there was ground or not for the accusation. The court was
desirous that Mirabeau should keep silence, and that he siiouid aban-
don the Dnke of Orleans, against whom alone it bore a grudge. He
nevertheless spoke, and showed how ridiculous were the imputations
thrown out against him. He was accused, in fact, of having apprized
Mounier that Paris was marching upon Versailles, and of having
added tbis expression : " We want a king, but no matter whetiier it
be Louis XVL or Louis XVII. ; of having gone through the Flanders
regiment, sword in hand, and exclaimed at the moment of the
departure of the Duke of Orleans : ' this j . . . / is not
worth the trouble tiiat is taken about him.' " IVothing could be
more frivolous than such allegations. Mirabeau showed their weak-
ness and absurdity, said but a few words respecting the Duke of
Orleans, and exclaimed, when concluding; " Yes, the secret of these
infernal proceedings is at length laid bare ; it is yonder whole and
entire (pointiuir to the right side) ; it is to be found in the interest of
those whose evidence and whose calumnies have formed their tissue ;
it is in the resources-which they have furnished to the enemies of the
doing they will gain sensations to which tliey are strangers, and will not disturb the
joy of their fellow-uitizonH.
" It WHS in the Champs F.Iysees that persons of feeling enjoyed more satisfactorily
this charming popular festival. Columns of lights hung from every tree, and fes-
toons of lamps connected them together; pyramids of fire, placed at intervals, dif-
fused a pure light, which the enormous mass of surrounding darkness rendered
still more i)rill!nut hy its contrast. The people covered the alleys and the greensward.
The citizen, seated with his ^vife, amidst his children, ate, chatted, walked about, and
enjoyed him--eir. Here, young lads and lasses danced to the sound of several bands
of iimsic. stationed in the open spaces which had been formed. Farther on, sailors,
injacket and trousers, surrounded by numerous groups who looked on with inter-
est, strove to climb up tall masts rubbed with soap, to gain a prize reserved for him
who should reach and bring down a tricoloured flag fastened to the snnnnit. You
should have seen the bursts of laughter wliich greeted those who were forced to ro-
lin(|nish the attempt, and the encoiirageuijuts given to those, who, more lufkv or
more adroit, appeared likely to reach the top. .\ soothing sentimental joy, ditiused
over every face, b-iaming in every eye, reminded you of the peaceful pleasures of
the happy shades in the Elysian fields of the ancients. The white dresses of a multi-
tude of females, strolling imder the trees of those beautiful alleys, served to heighten
the illusion." — Fcrricrcs, toni. ii., p. 89.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 159
Revolution ; it is — it is in the hearts of the judges sucli as it will soon
be graven in history by the most just and the most implacable
vengeance."
Plaudits accompanied Mirabeau to his seat ; the Assembly resolved
that there was no ground of accusation against the persons inculpated,
and the court incurred the disgrace of a useless attempt.
The Revolution was destined to run its course every where, in the
army as well as among the people. The army, the last instrument of
pf)\ver, was also the last fear of the popular party. All the military
chiefs were enemies of the Revolution, because, being exclusive pos-
sessors of promotion and favours, they saw merit admitted to equal
privileges with themselves. From the contrary motive, the sohlicrs
inclined to the new order of thinors; and no doubt the dislike of dis-
cipline, and the desire of higher pay, acted as powerfully upon them
as the spirit of liberty. A dangerous insubordination manifested itself
throughout almost the whole army. The infantry, in particular, per-
haps because it mingles more with the people, was in a state of
absolute insurrection. Bouille, who was mortified to see his army
slipping out of his hands, employed all possible means to ])revent this
contagion of the revolutionary spirit. He had received the most ex-
tensive powers from Latour du Pin, minister at war; he availed him-
self of them to keep shifting his troops about continually, and thus to
prevent them from contracting a familiarity with the people by staying
in the same place. He forbade them, above all things, to frequent
the clubs, and in short he neglected no means of maintaining military
subordination. Bouille, after a long resistance, had at length tiiken
the oath to the constitution. He was a man of honour, and from
that moment he seemed to have formed the resolution to be faithful
to the constitution and to the King. His dislike of Lafayette, whose
disinterestedness he could not but acknowledge, was overcome, and
he was more disposed to be on good terms with him. The national
guards of the extensive country under his command, had proj)osed
to appoint him their general. He had refused the offer in his first
fit of pique, i)ut was sorry for having done so afterwards, when he
thought of all the good that he should have had it in his power to do.
Nevertheless, in spite of some denunciations of the clubs, he still
maintained himself in the popular favour.
Revolt first broke out at Metz. The soldiers confined their offi-
cers, seized the colours and the military chests, and wished even to
make the municipality contribute. Bouille exposed himself to the
greatest danger, and succeeded in his efiorls to suppress the sedition.
Soon afterwards, a similar mutiny took place at Nancy. Some Swiss
reiriments were im[)licated in it, and there was reason to nppnhend
that, if this example were followed, the whole kingdom would soon
be a prey to the united excesses of the soldiery and the populace.
The Assembly itself trembled at the prospect. An officer was
charged to carry tin; decree passed against the rebels. He could nut
put it into execution, and Bouille was ordered to march to Nancy,
that the law mig^it have the assistance of force. He had but few
soldiers on whonvlie could rely. Luckily the troops which had lately
160 HISTORY OF THE
mutinied at Metz, humbled because he durst not trust them, offered to march
against the rebels : the national guards made a similar offer, and he advanced
upon Nancy with these united forces and a tolerably numerous body of ca-
valry. His situation was perplexing, for he could not employ his cavalry,
and his infantry was not strong enougli to attack the rebel? seconded by the
populace. Nevertheless he addressed Avith the greatest firmness and con-
trived to overawe them. They were even about to yield and to leave the
city agreeably to his orders, when some musket-shots were fired from some
unknown quarter. An action now became inevitable. Bouille's troops,
under the idea of treachery, fought with the greatest ardour; but the engage-
ment was obstinate, and they penetrated only step by step through a de-
structive fire. Being at lengtli master of the principal squares, Bouille
gained the submission of the revolted regiments, and compelled them to leave
the city; he liberated the imprisoned officers and the authorities, and caused
the principal ringleaders to be picked out, and delivered them up to the Na-
tional Assembly.
This victory diffused general joy, and allayed the fears which had been
excited for the tranquillity of the kingdom. Bouille received congratulations
and commendations from the King and the Assembly. He was subsequently
calumniated, and his conduct charged with cruelty. It Avas nevertheless ir-
reproachable, and at tbe moment it was applauded as such. The King aug-
mented his command, which became very considerable, extending from
Switzerland to the Sanibre, and comprehending the greatest part of the fron-
tiers. Bouille, having more reliance on the cavalry than on the infantry,
chose the Iianks of the Seille, which falls into the Moselle, for his canton-
ments. He there had plains for manoeuvring his cavalry, forage for its sup-
port, places of considerable strength for intrenching it, and above all, a thin
population. Bouille had determined to take no step against the constitution,
but he distrusted the patriots, and he took precautions with a view to suc-
cour the King, if circumstances should render it necessary.
The Assembly had abolished the parliaments, instituted juries, suppressed
JKrandes, and was about to order a fresh issue of assignats. The property
of the clergy offering an immense capital, and the assignats rendering it con-
tinually disposable, it was natural that the Assembly should employ it. All
the objections already urged were renewed with still greater violence. The
Bishop of Autun himself declared against this new issue, and had the sagacity
to foresee all the financial results of that measure.* Mirabeau, looking
chiefly at the political results, obstinately persisted, and with success. Eight
* M. de Talleyrand had predicted, in a very remarkable manner, the financial results of
paper-money. In his speech he first showed the nature of that money, characterized it with
the greatest justice, and explained the reasons of its speedy inferiority.
" Will the National Assembly," said he, " order an issue of two thousand millions of
money in assignats .' People judge of this second issue by the success of the first ; but they
will not perceive that the wants of commerce, checked by the Revolution, naturally caused
our first conventional issue to be received with avidity ; and these wants were such, that, in
my opinion, this currency would have been adopted, had it even not been forced : to make an
attack on this first success, which moreover, has not been complete, since the assignats are
below par, in favour of a second and more ample issue, is to expose ourselves to great
dangers ; for the empire of the law has its measure, and this measure is the interest which
men have to respect or to infringe it.
" The assignats will undoubtedly have characters of security which no paper-money ever
had ; none was ever created upon so valuable a pledge, clothed with so solid a security : that
I am far from denying. The assignat, considered as a title of credit, has a positive and ma-
terial value ; this value of the assignat is precisely the same as that of the land which it re-
presents ; but still it must be admitted above all, that never will any national paper be upon
FRENCH REVOLUTION. Ifil
hundred millions ill assignats were decreed; and this time it was deeided
that they should not hear interest. It would have been useless in fact to add
interest to a circulatinir medium. Let this be done for a paper which can-
not circulate but remains idle in the haiuls of the holder — nothing is more
just: but fur a value Avhich becomes actual by its forced currency, it is an
error wliich the Assembly did not commit a second time.
Necker opposed this new issue, and sent in a memorial which was not
listened to. Times were materially changed for him, and he was no loigger
the minister whose continuance in office was deemed by the people essential
a par with the raotals; never will the supplementary sign of the first representative sign of
wealth have the exact value of its model ; the very title proves want, and want spreads alarm
and distrust around it.
" Why will assignat-money he always helow specie ? In the first place, hecause there will
always Ik; doubts of the exact application of its proportions between the mass of the assignats
and that of the national property ; because there will long be uncertainty respecting the con-
summation of the sales; because no concei)tion can be formed by what time two thousand
millions of assignats, representing nearly the value of the d.miains, will be extinguished; be-
cause, money being put in competition with paper, both become a marketable commodity ;
and the more abundant any commodity is, the lower must be its price; because with money
one will always be able to do without assignats, whilst it is impossible witli assignats to do
without money : and fortunately the absolute want of money will keep some specie in circu-
lation, for it would be the greatest of all evils to be absolutely destitute of it."
Farther on the speaker added : " To create an assignat currency is not assuredly represent-
ing a metallic commodity, it is merely representing a metallic currency : now a metal that is
merely money, whatever idea may be attached to it, cannot represent that which is at the
same time money and merchandise. Assignat-money, however safe, however .solid, it may
be, is therefore an abstraction of paper-money ; it is consequently but the free or forced sign,
not of wealth but merely of credit. It thence follows that to give to paper the functions of
monev by making it like other money, the medium between all exchangeable ol)jects, is
changing the quaiuity recognised as unit, otherwise called in this matter the mint standard ;
it is operating in a moment what centuries scarcely operate in a state that is advancing in
wealth ; and if, to borrow the exprossion of a foreign writer, money performs in regard to the
price of things the same function as degrees, minutes, and seconds, in regard to angles, or
scales in regard to geographit'al maps and plans of all kinds, I ask what must be the result
from this alteration in the common measure 1"
After showing what the new money was, M. de Talleyrand predicted with singular preci-
sion the confusion which would result from it in private transactions.
" I3ut, let us at length follow the assignats in their progress, and see what course they will
have to take. The reimbursed creditor then must either jiurchase lands with the assignats,
or he must keep them, or employ them for other acquisitions. If he purchases lands, then
your object will be fulfilled: I shall applaud with you the creation of assignats, because they
will not be thrown into circulation ; because, in short, they will only have made that which
I propose to you to give to public credits, the faculty of being exchanged for public domains.
But if this distrustful creditor prefers losing the interest by keeping an inactive title ; if ho
converts assignats into metals for the purpose of hoarding them, or into bills on foreigners to
carry them abroad ; if these latter classes are much more numerous than the first ; if, in short,
the assignats remain a long time in circulation before they come to be extinguished in the
chest of the sinking fund; if they are forced into currency and stoj) in the hands of persons
who are obliged to take them at par, and who, owing nothing, cannot employ them but with
loss ; if they are the occasion of a great injustice done by all debtors to all creditors anterior
to the })assing of assignats at the par of money, whilst it will be contradicted in the security
which it orders, since it will be impossible to oblige the sellers to take them at the par of
specie, that is to say without raising the price of their commodities in {)roportion to the loss
upon the assignats: how sorely then will this ingenious o[)eration have disappointed the pa-
triotism of those whose sagacity has devised, and whose integrity defends it ! and to what in-
consolable regret should we not be doomed !"
It cannot then be asserted that the National Assembly was wholly unaware of the possible
'■'•suit of its determination; but to these forebodings might be opposed one of those answers
which one never dare give at the moment, but which would be peremptory and which be-
come so in the sequel — the necessity of replenishing the exchequer and of dividing property
Vol. I. — 21 o2
162 HISTORY OF THE
to their welfare a year before. Deprived of tlie confidence of the King-, em-
broiled with his coUeaffues, excepting Montmorin, he was neglected by the
Assembly, and not treated by it with that attention which he had a right to
expect. Necker's error consisted in believing that reason is sufficient for
all thinirs, and that, combined with a medley of sentiment and logic, it covdd
not fail to triumph over the infatuation of the aristocrats and the irritation of
the patriots. Necker possessed that somewhat vain-glorious reason, Avhich
sits in judgment on the vagaries of the passions, and condemns them ; but he
lacked that other sort of reason, more lofty but less proud, wliich does not
confine itself to condemning, but knows how to govern them also. Thus,
placed in the midst of parties, he only irritated all, without being a bridle
upon any. Left without friends, since the secession of Mounicr and Lally,
he had retained none but the useless Mallouet. He had offended the As-
sembly by reminding it continually and with reproaches of the most difiicult
of all duties — that of attending to the finances. He had moreover incurred
ridicule by the manner in which he spoke of himself. His resignation was
accepted with pleasure by all parties. His carriage was stopped as it was
quitting the kingdom by the same populace which had before drawn him in
triumph; and it was necessary to apply to the Assembly for an order direct-
ing that he should be allowed to ijo to Switzerland. He soon obtained this
permission, and retired to Coppet, there to contemplate at a distance a Revo-
kuion which he was no longer qualified to observe closely or to guide.
The ministry was now reduced to as complete a cipher as the King, and
chiefly busied itself with intrigues, which were eitlier futile or culpable. St.
Priest communicated witli the emigrants ; Latour du Pin lent himself to all
the schemes of the military chiefs ; INIontmorin* possessed the esteem of the
* "Armaml Marc Count ile Montmorin St. Hercm, minister of finance, and secretary of
state, was one of the Assembly of Notables held at Versailles, and had the administration of
foreign aflairs at the time when the States-general opened. He was dismissed in 1789 with
Necker, but was immediately recalled by order of the National Assembly, In September,
17n0, when all his colleagues were dismissed, he retained his place, and even the portfolio
of the interior was for a time confided to him. In April, 1791, he sent a circular letter to all
the ministers at foreign courts, assuring their sovereigns that the King was wholly unre-
strained, and sincerely attached to the new constitution. In the beginning of June, he was
struck from the list of Jacobins, and was afterwards summoned to the bar for giving the
King's passport when he fled to Varennes; but he easily cleared himself from this charge by
proving that the passport had been taken out under a supposititious name. M. de Montmo-
rin soon after this, tendered his resignation; yet though withdrawn from public life, he con-
tinued near the King, and, together with Bertrand de Molleville, Mallouet, and a few others,
formed a kind of privy council, which suggested and prepared various plans for strengthen-
ing the monarchy. This conduct drew on him the inveterate hatred of the Jacobins, who
attacked him and Bertrand as members of the Austrian committee. M. de Montmorin was
one of the first victims who fell in the massacres of September." — Biographie Maderne. E.
" The unfortunate M. de Montmorin had taken refuge on the 10th of August at the house
of a washerwoman in the fauxbourg St. Antoine. He was discovered in the early part of
September by the imprudence of his hostess, who bought the finest fowls and the best fruit
she could find, and carried them to her house, without taking any precautions to elude the
observation of her neighbours. They soon suspected her of harbouring an aristocrat. This
conjecture spread among the populace of the fauxbourg, who were almost all of them spies
and agents of the Jacobins. M. de Montmorin was in consequence arrested, and conducted
to the bar of the National Assembly. He answered the questions put to him in the most
satisfactory manner; but his having concealed himself, and a bottle of laudanum having
been found in his pocket, formed, said his enemies, a strong presumption that he was con-
scious of some crime. After being detained two days in the committee, he was sent a prisoner
to the Abbaye; and a few days afterwards was murdered in a manner too shocking to men-
tion ; and his mangled body carried in triumph to the National Assembly." — Private Memoirs
of Bertrand de Molleville. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 163
court but not its confidence, and he was employed in intrigues with the
popular leaders witli whom his moderation made him aciiuaintcd. The
ministers Avere all denounced on the plea of new plots. " I too," exclaimed
Cazales, "I too would denounce them, if it were generous to attack such
weak men ; I would charge the minister of the finances witli having kept the
Assembly in the dark respecting the real resources of the state, and with not
having directed a Revolution which he had provoked ; I would charge the
minister at war with having suffered the army to be disorganized ; the mi-
nister of the interior with not having enforced the observance of the King's
orders; all, in short, with their nullity and the cowardly advice given to their
master." Inactivity is a crime in the eyes of parties desirous of proceed-
ing- to their soal. Accordinfflv, the risrht side condemned the ministers not
for what they had done, but for what they had not done. Cazales and his
supporters, though they condemned them, were nevertheless averse to ap-
plying to the King for their dismissal, because they regarded such an appli-
cation as an infrinsrement of the royal prerogative. The motion was not
pressed ; but the ministers successively resigned, excepting ^lontmorin, who
alone was retained. Duport-du-Tertre, who was merely an advocate, was
appointed keeper of the seals, Duportail, recommended to the Kinuf l)y La-
fayette, succeeded Latour du Pin in the war department, and showed him-
self more favourably disposed towards the popular party. One of the mea-
sures taken by him Mas to deprive I'ouille of all the liberty which he as-
sumed in his command, and especially of the power of displacing the troops
at his pleasure; — a power which Bouille employed, as we have seen, to pre-
vent his soldiers from fraternizing with the people.
The King had stutlicd the history of the English revolution with particu-
lar attention. He hail always iieen powerfully struck by the fate of Charles
I., and he could not help feeling sinister forebodinsfs. lie had particularly
remarked the motive of Charles's condemnation. The motive was civil war.
He had thence contracted an invincible horror of every measure that could
produce bloodshed, and invariably opposed all the schemes of flight proposed
by the Queen and the court.
During the summer which he passed at St. Cloud in 1790, he had oppor-
tunities enough for lliirht, but he never would listen to the mention of it. The
friends of the constitution dreaded like him such a step, which seemed likely
to lead to a civd war. The aristocrats alone desired it, because, in becoming
masters of the King by withdrawing him from the Assembly, they llattered
themselves with the prospect of governing in his name, and returning with
him at the head of foreigners ; not yet knowing that in such cases one can
never go anywhere but in the rear, AVitli the aristocrats were perhaps
united some precocious imaginations, wliich already began to dream of a re-
public, which no one else yet thought of, and the name of which had never
yet been mentioned, unless bv the Queen in her fits of passion against La-
fayette and the Assembly, whom she accused of urging it on with all their
might, Lafayette, chief of the constitutional army and of all the sincere
friends of liberty, kept incessant watch over the person of the monarch.
Those two ideas, the departure of the King and civil war, were so strongly
associated in all minds ever since the commencement of the Revolution, that
such an event was .considered as the greatest calamity that could be appre-
hended. '
Meanwhile the expulsion of the ministry, which, if it had not the confi-
dence of Louis XVI. was at least his choice, indisposed him towards the
Assembly, and excited his fears for the total loss of the executive power
164 HISTORY OF THE
The new religious debates, to which the bad faith of the clergy gave rise on
occasion of the civil constitution, affrighted his timid conscience, and thence-
forward he thought of departure.* It was towards the end of 1790 that he
wrote on the subject to Bouille, who at tirst opposed the scheme, but after-
wards gave way, lest he should cause the luifortunate monarch to doul)t liis
zeal. Mirabcau, on his part, had formed a plan for upholding the monarchy.
In continual communication with Montmorin, he had hitherto undertaken
nothing of consequence ; because the court, hesitating between emigration
and the national party, was not cordially disposed towards anything, and
dreaded, above all other schemes, that which would suijject it to a master
so sincerely constitutional as Mirabeau. Nevertheless, at this period it
cordially agreed with him. Everything was promised him if he succeeded.
All possible resources were placed at his disposal. Talon, civil lieutenant
to tlie Chiitelet, and Laporte, recently summoned by the King to manage
the civil list, had orders to see him and to aid in the execution of his plans.
Mirabeau condemned the new constitution. For a monarchy it was, accord-
ing to him, too democratic, and for a republic, there was a king too much.
Observing, above all, the popular violence, which kept continually increas-
ing, he resolved to set bounds to it. At Paris, under the rule of tlie mob
and of an all-powerful Assembly, any attempt of this sort was impossible.
He felt that there was but one alternative, to remove the King from Paris,
and place him at Lyons. There the King could have explained himself:
be could have energetically stated the reasons which caused him to condemn
the new constitution, and have given another, which was ready prepared.
At the same instant a first session would have been convoked. Mirabeau,
in conferring in writing with the most popular members, had had the art to
draw from all of them the acknowledgment of their disapprobation of an
article in the existing constitution. On comparing these ditl'erent opinions,
it was found that the constitution was altogether condemned by its framers
themselves.t He proposed to annex them to the manifesto of the King, to
* "About this time MaJame de Staul invented a plan for his Majesty's escape, which she
communicated to M. de Montmorin in a letter that he showed me. The plan was as follows: —
The estate of Lamotte, on the coast of Normandy, belonging to the Duke of Orleans, was to
be sold. Madame de StacI proposed, that she should publicly give out that she had an
intention to purchase it ; and on this pretext, that she should make frequent journeys to that
])lace, always in the same carriage, and accompanied in the same maiinesr — namely, by a man
of the same size and shape as the King, dressed in a gray coat, and a round })eriwig; by a
waiting-woman resembling the Queen ; by a child of the age and figure of the Dauphin ; and
by a footman on horseback. When these repeated journeys had accustomed the masters
of the post-houses, and the postilions on the road, to the appearance of Madame de Stael and
her travelling companions, she proposed that their places should be occupied by the King,
Queen, and Dauphin, in the hope that they would arrive safely at the castle of Lamotte,
where a fishing- vessel would be in readiness to transport them whither they pleased. This
plan appeared to M. de Montmorin equally dangerous, romantic, and inconsistent with pro-
priety ; he therefore never mentioned it to the King, in the fear that his majesty, who regarded
Madame de StacM as an enthusiast, would reject every future plan of escape as wild and
extravagant, merely because a similar measure had been proposed liy her." — Private Memoirs
of Bcrlrand de Molkvil/e. E.
j It is not possible that there should not be diversity of opinions in regard to a work com-
posed collectively, and by a great number of persons. Unanimity having never taken place,
excepting on certain very rare points, of course every part was disapproved by those who
voted against it. Thus every article of the constitution of 1 79 1 must have met with some
disa[)piovers among the very authors of that constitution ; the whole was nevertheless their
real and incontestalile work. What luqipened in this instance would have been inevitable in
■any deliberative body, and the expedient of Mirabeau was but a trick. It may even be said,
that his procedure was far from delicate, but great allowance must be made for a man of mighty
FRENXII REVOLUTION. 165
insure its efTect and to cause the necessity for a new constitution to be the
more stroni^ly f<'lt. We are not acquainted with all his means of execution:
hut we know that, through tlie j)olicy of 'J'alon, civil lieutenant, he had
secured pamphleteers, and club and mob orators ; and that by his immense
correspondence he could have made sure of thirty-six departments of the
south. No doubt he meant to gain the aid of IJouille, but he would not
place himself at the mercy of that general. While Bouille should be
encamped at Montmedv, he wished the King to stay at Lyons; and he
himself was to be at liVons or Paris, according to circumstances. A foreign
prince, a friend of IMirai)eau, saw Ijouille on behalf of the King, and com-
municated to him this plan, but unknown to Mirabeau,* who had no thought
of jMontmodv, for which place the King subsequently set out, Bouille,
struck by the genius of Mirabeau, declared that everything ought to be done
to win such a man, and that for his own part he was ready to second him
with all his means.
M. de Lafayette was unacquainted with this plan. Though sincerely
attached to tiie person of the King, he had not the confidence of the court,
and besides he excited the envy of Mirabeau, who was not desirous of hav-
insr such a companion. M. de Lafayette, moreover, was known to pursue
only the direct road ; and this plan was too bold, it deviated too much from
the legal course, to suit him. IJe this as it may, Mirabeau wished to be the
sole executer of his plan, and in fact he carried it on quite alone duriiiir the
winter of 1790-1791. It is impossible to tell whether it would have suc-
ceeded, but this much is certain, that without stemming the revolutionary
torrent, it would at least have influenced its direction ; and that, though it
would undoubtedly not have changed the inevitalde result of the revolution,
it would have modified events by its powerful opposition. It is still a ques-
tion, however, whether, had he even succeeded in quelling the popular party,
he could have made himself master of the aristocracy and of the court. One
of his friends mentioned to him this last oitjection. "They have promised
me everything," said Mirabeau. "And if they should not keep their
word ?" — " If they do not keep their word, I will soon turn them into a
republic."
'i'he principal articles of the civil constitution, such as the new circum-
scription of the bishoprics and the election of all the ecclesiastical function-
aries, had been decreed. The King had referred to the Pope, who, after
answering him in a tone half severe and half paternal, had appealed iu his
turn to the clergy of France. The cler<ry, availing itself of this occasion,
alleged (hat spiritual interests were compromised by the measures of the
Asseml)ly. At the same lime it circulated pastoral charges, declared that
the displaced bishops would not quit their sees but by compulsion and force ;
that they woidd hire houses and continue their ecclesiastical functions; and
that all who adhered faithfully to their religion ought to have recourse to
mind and dissolute manners, whom the morality of the aim rendered not over srrujmlous in
regard to that of the means. I say the nioraUty of the aim, for Mirabeau sinrerelv believed
in the necessity of a modified constitution ; and, tlioULzli his ambition and liis petty persona!
rivalries contributed to keep him aloof from the popular [inrty, he was sincere in bis fear of
anarchy. Others besides him dreaded the court and the aristocracy mere than the people.
Thus there were everywhere, accor<ling to the positions of parties, different fears, and every-
where true ones. O^nviction changes with the points of view ; and morality, that is to say,
sincerity, is to be found alike on the most ojiposite sides.
* Bouille, in his Memoirs, seems to believe that it was on the part of Mirabeau and the
Kin^ that overtures were made to him. This is a mistake. Mirabeau was ignorant of this
double-dealing, and had no intention of putting himself into Buuille's power.
166 HISTORY OF THE
them alone. The clergy intrigued particularly in lia Vendee and in some
of the southern departments, where it acted in concert with the emigrants.
A federative camp had been formed at Jallez, where, under the apparent pre-
text of federation, the pretended federalists purposed to establish a centre of
opposition to the measures of the Assembly. The popular party was exas-
perated at these proceedings ; and, strong in its power, weary of moderation,
it resolved to resort to a decisive expedient. We have already seen what
were the motives that had influenced the adoption of the civil constitution.
The framers of that constitution were the most sincere Christians in the
Assembly; and these, irritated by an unjust resistance, resolved to over-
come it.
The reader knows that a decree obliged all the public functionaries to take
an oath to the new constitution. When this civic oath was discussed, the
clergy endeavoured to make a distinction between the political constitution
and the ecclesiastical constitution : but the Assembly had gone still farther.
On this occasion it resolved to require of the ecclesiastics a rigorous oath,
which should impose on them the necessity of retiring if they refused to
take it,, or of faithfully performing their duties if they did take it. It had the
precaution to declare, that it meant not to do violence to consciences ; that
it should respect the refusal of those who, considering religion as compro-
mised by the new laws, would not take the oath ; but that it was desirous
of knowing them that it might not consign the new l^ishoprics to their charge.
In this course its motives were just and frank. It added to its decree, that
those who should refuse to take the oath should be deprived of their func-
tions and salary. Moreover, by way of setting the example, all the ecclesi-
astics who were deputies were required to take the oath in the Assembly
itself, eight days after the sanction of the new decree.
The right side opposed this. Maury gave vent to all his violence, and
did all that lay in his power to provoke interruption, that he might have
ground for complaint. Alexandre Lameth, who filled the president's chair,
maintained order while he spoke, and deprived him of the pleasure of being
driven from the tribune. Mirabeau, more eloquent than ever, defended the
Assemlily. "You," he exclaimed, "the persecutors of religion ! you, who
have paid it so noble and so touching an homage in the most admirable of
your decrees ! — you, who devote to its worship part of the public revenue,
of which your prudence and your justice have rendered you so economical!
— you, who have summoned religion to assist in the division of the king-
dom, and have planted the sign of the cross on all the boundaries of the
departments! — you, in short, who know that God is as necessary to man as
liberty !"
The Assembly decreed the oath. The King referred immediately to
Rome. The Bishop of Aix, who liad at first opposed the civil constitution,
feeling the necessity of a paeiticalion, joined the King and some of the more
moderate of his colleagues in soliciting the assent of tlie Pope. The emi-
grants at Turin and the opposing Bishops of France, wrote also to Rome,
but in a directly contrary spirit, and the Pope, upon various pretexts, post-
poned his answer. The Assembly, irritated at these delays, insisted ou
having the sanction erf the King, who, having made up his mind to comply,
raeouted to the usual stratagems of weakness. He wislied to olilige the
Assembly to use constraint towards him, that he might seem not to act freely.
Pn fact, he expected a commotion, and then he hastened to give his sanction.
As sooa as the decree was sanctioned, the Assembly determined to put it in
execution, and required its ecclesiastical members to take the oath in their
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 167
places. Men and women who had until then sliown very little attachment
to religion, all at once made themselves extremely busy in provoking- the
refusal of the ecclesiastics.* Some of the bishops and some of the cures
took, the oath. The majority refused, with a feigned moderation and an
apparent attachment to its principles. The Assemlily nevertheless persisted
in the nomination of new bishops and cures, and was cheerfully seconded
by the administrations. The former ecclesiastical functionaries were at
liberty to perform divine service apart, and those who were recognised bv
the state took their places in the churches. The dissenters at Paris hired
the church of the Theatines for their place of worship. The Assembly
permitted this, and the national guard protected them as much as possible
from the fury of the populace, which did not always allow them to perform
their devotions in quiet.
The Assembly has been condemned for having occasioned tliis schism,
and for having added a new cause of division to those which before existed.
In the first place, as to its riglits, it must be evident to every just mind that
the Assembly did not exceed them in directing its attention to the tempo-
ralities of the Church. As for considerations of prudence, we may alhrm
that it added little to the difficulties of its position. It is evident that tlie
court, the nobility, and the clergy, had lost enough, and the people had
gained enough to be irreconcilable enemies, and to impel the revolution to
its inevitable issue, even without the effects of the new scliism. And be-
sides when the Assembly was abolishing all abuses, could it suffer those of
the ancient ecclesiastical organization to remain? Could it sufier idle per-
sons to live in abundance; while pastors, tlie only useful members of the
profession, had scarcely the necessaries of existence ?
This last struggle completed the work of universal division, ^^'hile the
cleriry excited the provinces of the west and south, the refugees at Turin
made several attempts, which were frustrated by their weakness and their
anarchy. A conspiracy was set on foot at Lyons. The arrival of the princes,
and an abundant distribution of favours were there announced. Lyons
was even pi'omised to be made the capital of the kingdom, instead of Paris,
which had incurred the displeasure of the court. The King was apprized
• Ferrieres, an eye-witness of the intrigues of that period, mentions those which were
employed to prevent the oath of the priests. This page appears to me too characteristic not
to t)e quoted:
" The Itishops and the revolutionists intrigued and were extremely busy, the one to cause
the oath to he taken, the other to prevent it. Both parties were sensil/lc of the influence which
the line of conduct pursued by the ecclesiastics of the Assembly would have in the provinces.
The bishops visited their ciirt's ,- devotees of both sexes set themselves in motion. Nothing
was talked of in every company but the oath of the clergy. One would have supposed that
the destiny of France and the fate of every Frenchman depended on its being taken or not
taken. Men the most free in their religious opinions, and the most notoriously immoral
women, were suddenly transformed into rigid theologians, into ardent missionaries of the
purity and integrity of the Romish faith.
" T/te Juurnul dc Fonteney, tAini du Roi, and la Gazette de Durosoir, employed their
usual weapons — exaggeration, falsehood, calumny. Numberless tracts were distributed, in
which the civil constitution of the clergy was treated as schismatic, heretical, and destructive
of religion. The devotees hawked about pamphlets from house to house ; they entreated, con-
jured, threatened, according to particular dispositions and characters. To some they represented
the clergy triumphant, the Assembly div^ftlved, the prevaricating ecclesiastics stripped of their
benefices, confined ii^their houses of correction ; the faithful ones covered with glory and
loaded with wealth. The Pope was about to launch his anathemas at a sacrilegious .'\sscmbly
and at the apostate priests. The peoi)le deprived of the sacraments would lise; the foreign
powers would enter France, and that structure of iniquity and villany would crumble to pieces
upon its own foundations." — Fgrricres, torn. iL, p. 196.
168 HISTORY OF THE
of these schemes, and, not expecting success from them, perhaps not even
desiring it, for he despaired of governing the victorious aristocracy, he
did all that lay in his power to prevent it. This conspiracy was disco-
vered about the end of 1790, and its principal agents were delivered up to
justice.
'I'his last reverse determined the emigrants to remove from Turin to Co-
blentz, where they settled in the territory of the Elector of Treves, and at
the expense of his authority, which they almost entirely usurped. We have
already seen tliat these nobles, who had fled from France, were divided in-
to two parties. The one, consisting of old servants, pampered with favours,
and composing what was called the court, would not, while supported by
the provincial nobility, consent to share influence with the latter, and for
this reason they meant to have recourse to foreigners alone. The others,
men relying more upon their swords, proposed to raise the provinces of the
south by rousing their fanaticism. The former carried their point, and re-
paired to Coblentz, on the nortliern frontier, to wait there for the foreign
aid. In vain did those who wished to light in the south insist that ^id ought
to be sought from Piedmont, Switzerland, and Spain, faithful and disinter-
ested allies, and that a distinguished leader should be left in their vicinity.
The aristocracy, directed by Calonne, was adverse to this. That aristo-
cracy had not changed since leaving France. Frivolous, haughty, incapable,
and prodigal, at Coblentz as at Versailles, it displayed its vices still more
conspicuously amidst the difhculties of exile and of civil war. "You must
have citizens in your commission," it said to those gallant men who offered
to fight in the south, and who asked under what title they were to serve.*
Some subordinate agents only were left at Turin; these, actuated by mutual
jealousy, tliwarted each other's etlbrts, and prevented the success of every
attempt. The Prince of Conde,t who seemed to have retained all tlie
* M. Fromont relates the following circumstance in his work already quoted :
"In this state of things, the princes conceived the plan of forming in the interior of the
Kingdom, as soon as possible, legions of all the loyal subjects of the King, to be employed
till the troo[)S of the line should be completely reorganized. Desirous of being at the head of
the royalists whom I had directed and commanded in 1789 and 1790, I wrote to Monsieur
the Count d'Artois, begging his royal highness to grant me the commission of colonel-com-
mandant, worded in such a manner that every royalist who, like myself, should raise a sulFi-
cient number of good citizens to form a legion, might have reason to flatter himself that he
should ol)tain the like favour. Monsieur the (Jount d'Artois applauded the idea, and listened
favouralily to my application ; but the members of the council were not of his opinion ; they
thought it so strange that a commoner should aspire to a military commission, that one of
them angrily said to me, 'Why did you not ask for a bishopric ]' The only answer I gave to
the questioner was a loud burst of laughter, which somewhat disconcerted his gravity. Mean-
while, the quesiion was discussed at the house of M. de Flaschlauden ; the persons engaged
in this deliberation were of opinion that these new corps ought to be called civic legions
(k<j;-ions boitru^eoises.) I remarked to them, that under this denomination they would
merely supply the place of the national guards; that the princes could not make them march
to any quarter where they might be needed, because they would allege that they were bound
only to defend their own hearths ; that it was to be feared that the factions would find means
to set them at loggerheads with the troops of the line; that with empty words they had
armed the people against the depositories of the public authority ; that it would therefore' be
more politic to follow their example, and to give to these new corps the denomination of
royal mi lit ia,- that 'No, no, sir,' said the Bishop of Arras, suddenly interrupting
me, ' the word bottrgcois must be inserted in your commission ;' and the Baron de F'lasch-
laiiilen, who drew it up, inserted the word buurgeois accordingly." — Kecueil dc divers Ecrifs
relatifs a la Revolution, p. 62.
j""IjOuis Joseph de Bourbon, Prince of Conde, was born at Chantilly in 173fi. Hf was
the only son of the Duke of Bourbon and the Princess of Hesse-Rheinfels. In 1753 he mar-
ried the Princess of Kohan-Soubise, who in 1756 bore him the Prince of Bourbon-Conde.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 169
eners-y of his branch of the royal family* was not in favour with part of the
noljili'ty ; he took post near the Kliine, with all those wlio, like himself, were
not disposed to intrigue but to i'l^ht.
The emigration became daily more considcral)le, and the roads Avere
covered with nobles, who imagined that they performed a sacred duty by
hastening to take arms against their country. Even women deemed it in-
cumbent on them to attest their horror of the Kevolulion by forsaking the
soil of France. Among a nation which is so easily led away by example
it became the fashion to emigrate. People hardly gave themselves the
trouble to take leave, so short did they consider the journey, and so speedy
their return.* The revolutionists of Holland, betrayed by their general,
a[)andoned by their allies, had yielded in a few days ; those of Brabant had
not held out'much longer: so too, according to these imprudent emigrants,
would the French Ke volution be quelled in one short campaign, and abso-
lute power would once more Ibnirish in subjugated France.
The Assembly, irritated rather than alarmed at such presumption, had
proposed measures, but tliey had always been deferred. 'I'lie King's aunts
finding their consciences compromised at Paris, thought to insure their sal-
vation by repairing to the Pope. They set out for Rome, and were stopped
on the way by the municipality of Arnai-le-Duc. The people immediately
thronged to the residence of Monsieur, who also was said to be preparing
to depart. Monsieur appeared, and promised not to forsake the Kinij. The
people were pacified, and the Assembly took into consideration the departure
of Mesdames. The delil)eration had lasted a considerable time, when
Menou put an end to it by this sahy : "All Europe," said he, "will be
astonished to learn that a great Assembly has spent several days in deciding
whether two old women shall hear mass at Paris or at Pome." The com-
mittee of constitution was nevertheless directed to present a law on the
residence of the pu!)lic functionaries and on eminTation. 'I'his decree,
adopted after warm discussions, nindcred it obligatory on public function-
aries to reside in the place of their functions. The King, as the highast
of all, was required not to withdraw himself from the IcLnslative ]>ody
duriuf the session, and at other times not to leave the kingdom. The
In the spveii years' war hi' distinguished himself hy his skill and coiiriipe, and in 1762 gained
a vi<!f()ry at Johannisberaf over the heredilary Prince of Brunswick. In the revolution he
ciiitc!;raled in 17S9, to Brussels, and thence to Turin. He iiflerwards formed a liule corps of
emigrant noliiiity, which joined the .'\ustrian army under Wurmser. In 1795 he entered
with his corps into the Enelish service. In 1797 he entered the Russian service, and
marched with his corps to Russia, where he was ho.«pitalily received hy Paul I. In 1800,
after the separation of Russia from the coalition, he re-entered the Ensjlish service. He re-
turned to Paris in 1814; and the tiext year Hid with the King to Cihent. He died at Paris
in 1818. His grandson was the unfortunate Duke d'Enghien." — Cyc/o/iirfliu Amen'cfnm. E.
* " Many of the emigrants had joined the army in a state of complete destitution. Othere
were spending improvidently the last relics of their fortunes. Several corps, composed
wholly of olTicers, served as private soldiers. The naval oH'icers were mounted ; the country
gentlemen formed themselves into companies, distinguished by the names of their native
provinces. All were in good spirits, for the camp life was free and j<\vous. Some bpcan)e
drawers of water, others hewers of wood; others provided and dressed tiie provisions, and
everywhere the inspiring note of the trumpet resounded. The camp, in fact, was a jierfect
kingdom. There were princes dwelling in wagons; magistrates on horseback; missionaries
preaching the Bible ancl administering justice. The ]>oor nobles conformed with careless
philosophy to this alti^ed state of things, choetfully enduring present privations in the san-
guine expectation of speedily regaining all that they had lost. 'J'hey conlidently believed
that the enil of autumn would lind them restored to their sj)len(lid homes, to their groves,
to iheir forests, and to their old dove-cotes." — Chateaubriand's Memoirs of the Duke dt
Bcrri. E.
VOL. I.— 22 P
ITO HISTORY OF THE
penalty for all the functionaries, in case of their violating this law, was dis-
missal from office. Another decree relative to emigration was demanded
from the committee.
Meanwhile the King, unable to endure the constraint imposed upon him,
and the reductions of power to which he was subjected by the Assembly,
enjoying moreover no peace of mind since the new decrees relative to
priests, had resolved upon flight. The whole winter had been devoted to
preparations for it: the zeal of Mirabeau was urged, and great promises
were held out to him if he should succeed in setting the royal family at
liberty. Mirabeau prosecuted his plan with tlie utmost activity. Lafayette
had just l)roken with the Lameths. The latter thought him too much
attached to the court ; and liis integrity being, unlilve that of JNIirabeau,
above suspicion, they found fault with his understanding, and alleged that
he suffered himself to be duped. The enemies of the Lameths accused
them of being jealous of the military power of Lafayette, as they had
envied the rhetorical power of Mirabeau. They joined, or seemed to join,
the friends of the Duke of Orleans,* and it was asserted that they Avished
to secure for one of them the command of the national guard. It was
Charles Lameth who was said to be ambitious of obtaining tliis appoint-
ment. To this motive were attributed the incessantly recurring difliculties
that were subsequently thrown in the way of Lafayette.
On the 28th of February, the populace, instigated it is said by the Duke
of Orleans, repaired to the castle of Vincennes, which the municipality had
appropriated for the reception of prisoners, with whom the prisons of Paris
were too much crowded. The castle was attacked as a new Bastille. La-
fayette hastened to the spot in time, and dispersed the populace of the faux-
bourg St. Antoine, who were led upon this expedition by Santerre.t While
he was restoring order in this quarter, other difficulties were preparing for
him at the Tuileries. On the rumour of a commotion, the dependents of
the palace, to the number of several hundred had repaired thither. They
carried concealed weapons, such as hunting-knives and daggers. The na-
tional guard, astonished at this concourse, took alarm, and disarmed and
maltreated some of them. Lafayette having arrived, caused the palace to
be cleared, and seized the weapons. The circumstance was immediately
* The three brothers, Theodore, Charles, and Alexandre Lameth, were peculiarly called
on to defend the cause of monarchy, for they had been loaded with benefits by the court,
and educated under the special patronage of the Queen, to whom they had been recom-
mended by their mother, who was the sister of Marshal Broglio. — Biographie Moilcrne. E.
f Santerre, a brewer in the fauxbourg St. Antoine, at Paris, possessed a boldness and
energy which gave him great weight in his own neighbourhood. Though ignorant, he knew
well how to address a mob, which made him courted by the Orleanists. On the taking of
the Bastille, he distinguished himself at the head of the forces of his fauxbourg, and when
the national guard was formed, he was appointed commander of a battalion. In 1792 he
began to obtain decided influence with the people, and on the 10th of August, becoming
commander of the national guard, he conducted the King to the Temple. Yet, notwith-
standing his democratic zeal, he was not considered fit to direct the massacres in the prisons.
Marat said of him, that he was a man without any decided character. On the II th of De-
cember he conducted the King to the bar of the National Convention, on the occasion of
his trial; and in January, 1793, commanded the troops who superintended his execution.
It was Santerre who interrupted the unfortunate monarch when he attempted to addiwss the
people, liy ordering the drums to be beat. Wishing to figure as a warrior, Santerre de-
parted, with 14,000 men, to tight the royalists in La Vendee; he was, however, continually
unsuccessful ; and on one occasion, it having been reported that he was killed, this epitaph
was made on him : " Here lies General Santerre, who had nothing of Mars but his beer."
Santerre survived the troubles of the Revolution, and died in ohscauty.—Biog^rapkie Mo-
{dsrne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 171
rumoured abroad. It was said that daggers had been found upon them,
Mheuce they -were afterwards called knights of the dagger. They asserted
that they had only come to defend the person of the King, which was
threatened. In reply, they were accused of an intention to carry off the
King ; and the afiair ended, as usual, in reciprocal calumnies. This scene
determined the real position of Lafayette. It was clearly shown on this
occasion, that, placed between the most opposite parties, he was there to
protect both the person of the King and the constitution. Ilis double vic-
tory increased his popularity, his power, and the hatred of his enemies.
Miral)eau, who wrongfully encouraged the distrust of the court towards
him, represented his conduct as profoundly hypocritical. Under the ap-
pearance of moderation and hostility to all parties, it tended, according to
him, to usurpation. In his spleen, he described the Lameths as wicked
and senseless men, associated wnth the Duke of Orleans, and having no
more than aI)out thirtv ])artisans in the Assembly, As for the right side,
he declared that he could make nothing of it, but that he relied on tlie three
or four hundred members who were bound by no engagements, but decided
from the impression of reason and eloquence which he produced at the
moment.
'i'here was nothing true in this representation but his estimate of the re-
spective force of the parties, and his opinions concerning the means of
directing the Assembly. He virtually governed it, by influencing all who
had not bound themselves by engagements. On this same day, the 28th of
February, he exercised his sway almost for the last time, displayed his
hatred to the Lameths, and brought his formidable power to bear against
thorn.
The law relative to emigration was about to be discussed. Chapelier
presented it in tlie name of the committee, which, he said, participated in
the general indignation against those Frenchmen who were forsaking their
country ; but he declared that, after several days' consideration, the com-
mittee had satisfied itself that it was impossible to make any law concerning
emigration. It was in reality a difllcidt thing to do. It was necessary in
the first place to inquire if they had a right to attach men to the soil. Thev
certainly had a riu^ht to do so, if the welfare of the country demand it.
Kut it was requisite to make a distinction between the motives of travellers,
which became inquisitorial. It was requisite to make a distiuction between
their quality as Frenchmen or foreigners, emigrants or mere mercantile
men. Such a law then was extremely difficult, if not impossible. Chape-
lier added that the committee, in comjjliance with the directions of the
Asseml)ly, had neverth('less drawn up one, which he would read, if permit-
ted, but which lie had no hesitation in declaring violated all principles.
From all quarters issued cries of "Read!" "Don't read!" A great
number of deputies asked leave to speak. Mirabeau demanded it in his
turn, obtained permission, and, what is still more, commanded silence. He
read a very eloquent letter, addressed some time before to Frederick Wil-
liam, in which he advocated the liberty of emigration as one of the most
sacred rights of man, who, not beiiiir attached by roots to the soiil, ought
not to be attached to it by any thing hut by happiness. Mirabeau, perhaps
to gratify the court, but still more from conviction, repelled as tyrannical
every measure a;^ainst tlie liberty of entcrinir, or withdrawing from, the
country. A bad use was no doulit made of this liberty at the moment; but
the Assembly, confident in its strenirth, had winked at so many abuses of
the p?ess committed against itself, had encountered so many vain attempts,
172 HISTORY OF THE
and so victoriously overthrown tliem, that one might safely advise it to per-
sist in the same system.
]\Iirubeau's opinion was applauded, but the members continued to insist
on the reading of tlie proposed law. CMiapclier at length read it. It sug-
gested, in case of disturbances, the appointment of a commission of three
members, which should appoint by name, and at their pleasure, those who
were to be at liberty to leave the kinn-doin. At this cuttintr ironv, which
denounced the impossibility of a law, murmurs arose. " Your murmurs
have soothed me," exclaimed Mirabeau ; " your hearts respond to mine, and
oppose this absurd tyranny. As for me, I hold myself released from every
oath towards those wdio shall be infamous enough to admit of a dictatorial
commission." — Cries were raised on the left side. " Yes," he repeated,
"I swear...." He was again interrupted. "That popularity," he
resumed in a voice of thunder, " to wliich I have aspired, and which I have
enjoyed as well as others, is not a feeble reed ; I will thrust it deep into the
earth, and I will make it shoot up in the soil of justice and reason." Ap-
plauses burst forth from all quarters. "I swear," added the orator, "if a
law against emigration is voted, I swear to disobey you."
He descended from tlie tribune, after astounding the Assembly, and over-
awing his enemies. The discussion nevertheless continued. Some were
for adjournment, that they might have time for making a better law ; others
insisted that they should forthwith declare that none should be made, in
order to pacify the people, and to put an end to the ferment. Murmurs,
shouts, applauses, succeeded. Mirabeau asked, and seemed to require, to
be heard. " What right of dictatorship is it," cried M. Goupil, " that
M. de Mirabeau exercises here ?" — Mirabeau, without heeding him, hur-
ried to the tribune. " I have not given you permission to speak," said the
president. " Let the Assembly decide." But the Assembly listened with-
out deciding. "I beg my interrupters," said Mirabeau, "to remember
that I have all my life combated tyranny, aiul that I will combat it wherever
I tind it." As he uttered these words he cast his eyes from the right to
the left. Loud applause followed his words. He resumed. "I beg M.
Goupil to recollect that he was under a mistake some time since in regard
to a Cataline, whose dictatorship he this day attacks ;* I beg the Assembly
to remark that the question of adjournment, though apparently simple,
involves others : for example, it presupposes that a law is to be made."
Fresh murmurs arose on the left. " Silence ! ye thirty voices !" exclaimed
the speaker, fixing his eyes on the place of Barnav^e and the Lameths.
" However," added he, " if it is wished, I too will vote for the adjourn-
ment, on condition that it be decreed that, from this time until the expiration
of the adjournment, there shall be no sedition." Unanimous acclamations
folio v/ed the concluding words. The adjournment was nevertheless carried,
but by so small a majority that the result was disputed, and a second trial
demanded.
Mirabeau, on this occasion, was particidarly striking by his boldness.
Never, perhaps, had he more imperiously overruled the Assembly. But
these were his last triumphs. His end approached. Presentiments of
death minified witli his vast projects, and sometimes subdued his flights of
fancy. His conscience, however, was satisfied; the public esteem was
joined with his own, and assured him that, if he had not yet done enough
• M. Goupil, when attacking Mirabeau upon a former occasion, had exclaimed with the
right side, " Cataline is at our doors !"
FRENCH REVOLUTION, 1"3
for the welfare of the state, he had at least done enough for his own glory.
Philosopliy and gaiety divided his last moments between them. Pale, and
with his eyes deeply sunk in their orbils, he appeared quite different in ihc
tribune. Moreover, he was subject to frequent and sudden fainting fits.
Excess in pleasure and in business, together with tlie excitement of the
tribune, had in a short time undenuined his vigorous constitution. Baths,
containing a solution of sublimate, had produced tliat greenish tint which
was attributed to poison.* The court was alarmed ; all parlies were asto-
nished, and, before his death, people intpiired the cause of it. On his last
public appearance he spoke five ditlercnt times, left the Assembly exhausted,
and never afterwards went abroad. Tlie bed of death received him, and he
left it only for the Pantheon. He had enjoined Cabanis not to call in any
physicians ; he was, nevertheless, disobeyed, and they found that death
was approaching, and that it had already seized his lower extremities.
His head was last attacked, as if nature had decreed that his genius should
continue to «hine till the very last moment. An immense crowd collected
around his abode, and filled all the avenues in the deepest silence. The
court sent messenger after messenger ; the bulletins of his health were trans-
milted from mouth to mouth, and each progressive stage of his disorder
excited fresh grief. He himself, surrounded by his friends, expressed some
regret at the interruption of his labours, and some pride at what he had
accomplished, " Support," said he to his servant, " support this head, the
greatest in France." He was aflecled by the sympathy of the people ; and
the visit of his enemy, Barnave, who called upon him in tlie name of the
Jacobins, excited in him a soothing emotion. He bestowed some more
thoughts on public affairs. The Assembly Avas about to direct its attention
to the right of making wills. He sent for M. de Talleyrand, and put into
his hands a speech which he had just written. "It will be curious," said
he, " to hear a man speaking against wills who is no more, and who has
just made his own." The court liad, in fact, requested him to do so, pro-
mising to pay all the legacies. Extending his vicAvs over Europe, and
foreseeing the plans of England, " That Pitt," said he, " is the minister of
• The author of the M^moirex (Tim Pair de France positively asserts that Mirabeau was
poisoned. He say?, that iti 1 793, Roliespierre, at a moment when he was off his guard,
ventured to boast of the share which he had taken in that crime. " Two parties," he adds,
"were then labouring to accomplish the ruin of the King; a third wished it without de-
claring itself: all of them Vv'ere concerned to sec that Louis XVI. inclined to a cordial
reconciliation with the constitution, and all dreaded the sound advice which Mirabeau had it
in his power to give him. It was well known that t!'.is man was the only person capable of
directing affairs in such a manner as to keep the factions within the limits which they hoped
to pass. As the issue of any attempt to strip him of ^lis popularity was uncertain, it was
thought better to despatch him ; but as no assassin was to lie found, it was necessary to
have recourse to poison. Marat furnished the receij)! for it; it was prepared under his super-
itUendence, and he answered for its eiVect. How to a<lminister it was the next question. At
length it was resolved to choose the oj)portunity of a dinner, at which the poisonous ingre-
dients should he introduced into the bread, or wine, or certain dishes of which Mirabeau
was known to be fond. Robespierre and I'etion undertook to see to the execution of thi.s
atrocious scheme, and were assisted by Fabre d'Eglantine, and two or three other subordi-
nate Orleanists. Mirabeau had no suspicion of this perfidy ; but its effects were manifested
itnmediatply alter a party of pleasure, at which he had indulged in great intemperance. He
was soon aware that he was poisoned, and told his intimate friends so, and especially f'abanis,
to whom he said ; ' Yd^ seek the cause of my death in my physical excesses; you will find
it rather in the hatred borne me by those who wish for the overthrow of France, or those
who are afraid of mv ascendancy over the minds of the King and t^ueen.' It was impossi-
ble to drive it out of his head that his death was not natural, but great pains were taken to
prevent this opinion from getting abroad." E.
p2
174 HISTORY OF THE
preparations ; he governs with threats ; I wouhl give him some trouble if 1
should live." 'Die priest of his parish came to olfer his attendance, which
he politely declined, saying, with a smile, that he should gladly have ac-
cepted it, if he had not in his house his ecclesiastical superior, the Bishop
of Autun. He desired the windows to be opened. " My friend," said he
to Cabanis, " I shall die to-day. All that can now be done is to envelop
oneself in perfumes, to crown oneself with flowers, to surround oneself
with music, that one may sink quietly into everlasting sleep." Acute pains
from time to time interrupted these calm and dignified observations. " You
have promised," said he to his friends, " to spare me needless suffering."
So saying, he earnestly begged for opium. As it was refused, he demanded
it with his accustomed violence. To quiet him, they resorted to deception,
and Iianded him a cup which they said contained opium. He took it with
composure, swallowed the draiiirht which he believed to be mortal, and
appeared satisfied. In a mometit afterwards he expired.* This was on
the 20th of April, 1791. The tidings soon reached the court, the city, and
the Assembly. All parties had hope in him, and all, excepting the envious,
were filled with grief. The Assembly suspended its proceedings ; a gene-
ral mourning was ordered, and a magnificent funeral prepared. A certain
number of deputies was asked for. " We will all go !" they exclaimed.
The church of St. Genevieve was converted into a Pantheon, with this
inscription, Avhich at the moment that I record these facts, no longer
exists.
AuX GRANDS H0>niES LA PATRIE RECONXAISSANTE.i
Mirabeau was the first admitted into it, and placed by the side of Des-
cartes. His funeral took place on the following day. AH the authorities,
the department, the municipalities, the popular societies, the Assembly, and
the army, accompanied the procession. This mere orator obtained more
honours than had ever been paid to the pompous colli ns formerly conveyed
to 8t. Denis. Such was the end of tliat extraordinary man, who, after
boldly attacking and vanquishing the ancient race, dared to direct his efforts
against the new, which had assisted him to conquer ; who checked them
with his voice, and made them respect him even Avhde he employed his
energies against them ; that man, in short, who did his duty from reason,
and from the promptings of genius, but not for the sake of a handful of
gold ; and who had the singular honour, when the popularity of all other
statesmen terminated in the disgust of the people, to see his yield to death
alone. But would he have infused resignation into the heart of the court,
moderation into the hearts of the amlntious ? — would he have said to the
popular triliunes, who sought to shine in their turn, " Remain in these ob-
scure fauxbourgs ?" — would he have said to Danton, that second Mirabean
of the populace,! " Stop in this section, and ascend no higher?" We can-
• " Mirabeau bore much of his character imprinted on his person and features. ' Figure
to your mind,' he said, describinu; his own countenance to a lady who knew him not, ' a tiger
who has had the small-pox.' \V'heii he talked of confronting his opponents in the Assem-
bly, his favourite phrase was, 'I will show them La Hure,' that is, the boar's head, meaning
his own tusked and shag?y countenance." — Scutfs Life af Napuleon. E.
■\ " To great men the grateful country."
t " Georges Jacques Danton, an advocate by profession, was born at Arcissur-Arbe, Oc-
tober 2G, 1759, and beheaded April .'5, 1794. His external appearance was striking. His
stature was colossal; his frame athletic; his features harsh, large, and disagreeable; his
voice shook the Assembly ; his eloquence was vehement ; and his imagination as gigantic
as his person, which made every one recoil, and at which, says St. Just, ' Freedom herself
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 175
not tell : but in that case all wavering interests would have placed them-
selves in his hands and have relied upon him. Long was the want of his
presence felt. In the confusion of the disputes which followed, the eye
trembled.' He was one of the founders of the club of the Cordeliers. His importance
increased in 1792, when he became one of the instigators of the events of the 20th of June,
and a leader on the 10th of .August. After the fall of Louis XVI. Danton was made
minister of justice, and usurjjcd the aj)[)oiiitnients of oificers in the army and departments.
He thus raised up a great number of creatures wholly devoted to his views. Money flowed
from all sides into his hands, and was profusely squandered on his partisans. His violent
measures led to the 8e])toniber massacres. The invasion of Champagne by the Pruseians
spread consternation through Paris; and Danton alone preserved his courage. He assumed
tho administration of the state; prepared measures of defence; called on all Frenchmen
capable of bearing arms to march against the enemy ; and prevented the removal of the
Assembly beyond the Loire. From this time forward he was hated by Robespierre, who
could never pardon the superiority which Danton had shown on this occasion. On the oc-
casion of the Festival of Reason, in which the Hebertists acted a conspicuous part, Danton
declared himself against the attack on the ministers of religion, and subsequently united
with Robes|)ierre to bring Hebert and his partisans to the scullold. But their connexion
was not of long duration. Danton wished to overthrow the despotism of Robespierre, who,
in his turn, was anxious to get rid of a dangerous rival. Danton was accordingly denounced
to the committee of safety by St. Just, and imjirisoned with his adherents in the Luxem-
bourg. When he was transferred thence to the Concicrgerie, he appeared dee[ilv mortified
at having been dufied by Robespierre. On his trial, he said, composedly, ' I am Danton,
sulTlcicnlly well known in the Revolution; I shall soon pass to nothingness; but my name
will live in the Pantheon of history.' He was condemned to death by the revolutionary
tribunal as an accom[)lice in a conspiracy for the restoration of monarchy, and his large pro-
perty was confiscated. He mounted the car with courage ; his head was elevated, his look,
commanding and full of pride. On ascending the scafl'old, he was for a moment softened.
'Oh, my wife, my dear wife, shall I never .see you again?' he said, but checked himself
hastily, and exclaimed, 'Courage, Danton ! no weakness.' He was thirty-five years old at
the time of his death.'' — Encyclupaed'ta Aiuericaiut.
" During the short period that elapsed before his execution, Danton's mind, in a distracted
state, reverted to the innocence of his earlier years. He spoke incessantlv about trees,
flowers, and the country. Then giving Way to unavailing regret, he exclaimed, 'It was just
a year ago that I was the means of instituting the revolutionary tribunal; may God and
inan forgive me for what I then did; but it was not that it might become the scourge of
humanity.' When his sentence was read to him in his cell, 'We are sacrificed,' said
Danton, 'to a few dastardly brigands, but I drag Robespierre after me in my fall.'" —
Alison. E.
"Danton had sold himself to the court, on conditiim that they would purchase from him,
for lOO.OOO livres, his place of advocate, which, after the suppression, was ordv worth
10,000 livres. Lafayette met Danton at M. de Montmorin's the same evening that the
bargain was concluded. He was a man ready to sell himself to all parties. V\'hile he was
making incendiary motions in the Jacobins, he was their s|)y at court, where he regularly
reported whatever occurred. On the Friday previous to the 10th of .August, 50,000 crowns
were given him, and Madame Elizabeth exclaimed, ' We are tranquil, for we may depend
on Danton.' Lafayette was apprized of the first payment, but not of the ensuing ones.
Danton spoke of it himself at the Hotel de \'ille, and, endeavouring to justify himself, said,
' General, I am a greater monarchist than you are yourself.' He was, nevertheless, one of
the leaders of the 10th of August." — Lafdi/tttc'n Mcniuirs. E.
" Danton was sometimes denominated the Mirabeau, sometimes the Alcibiades of the
rabble. He may be said to have resembled both (with the differences only of the patrician
order and the j)opulace) in his tempestuous jiassions, popular clociuence, dissipation, and
debts, like the one; his ambition, his dariiic; ami inventive genius, like the other. He ex-
erted his faculties, and indulged his voluptuary indolence aUernately, and by starts. His
conceptions were isolated, but complete in themselves, and of terrific efficacy as practical
agents in revolutions.> Danton's ambition was not personal. He would freely sacrifice
him.self for the republic or his party. He was inhuman, not so much from instinctive cru-
elty, as from a careless prodigality of blood. He viewed the Revolution as a great game, in
which men played for their lives. He took those he won as freely as he would have paid
those he lost." — British and Foreign Review. E.
176 HISTORY OF THE
would turn to the place which he had occupied, and seemed to seek him
who had been accustomed to terminate them with a victorious word. " Mi-
rabeau is no longer here," exclaimed Maury one day, in ascending the tri-
bune ; " I shall not be prevented from speaking."
The death of Mirabeau deprived the court of all courage. Fresh events
occurred to accelerate the flight of the royal family which it had resolved
upon. On the 18th of April the King intended to go to St. Cloud. A re-
port was spread, that, as he did not choose to employ a priest who had
taken the oath for the duties of Easter, he had resolved to keep away
during the Passion week. Others alleged that his intention was flight. The
populace immediately collected and stopped the horses. Lahiyetle hastened
to the spot, besought the King to remain in his carriage, assuring him that
he would have a passage cleared for him. The King, nevertheless, alighted,
and A\ould not permit any attempt to be made. It was his old policy not to
appear to be free. By the advice of his ministers, he repaired to the
Assembly to complain of the insult which he had just received. The
Assembly greeted him with its ordinary warmth, promising to do every-
thing that depended on it to insure his liberty. Louis XVI. withdrew,
applauded by all sides excepting the right side.
On the 2'.i(\ of April, agreealily to the advice given to him, he ordered a let-
ter to be written to the foreign ambassadors by M. de Montmorin, in which
he contradicted the intentions imputed to him of leaving the country, de-
claring to the powers that he had taken an oatli to the constitution which he
was determined to keep, and proclaiming as his enemies all M-ho shotdd in-
sinuate the contrary. The expressions of this letter were voluntarily exao-
gerated, that it might appear to have been extorted by violence. This the
King himself ackuowlcilged to the envoy of the Emperor Leopold. That
prince was then travelling in Italy, and was at this moment in IMantua.
Calonne was in negotiation Avilh him. An envoy, M. Alexandre de Durfort,
came from Mantua to the King and Queen to learn their real disposition.
He first questioned them concerning the letter addressed to the ambassadors,
and they replied that he might see from the language that it was wrunrr
from them. He then inquired wliat were their hopes, and they answered
that they had none since the death of Mirabeau ; lastly, he wished to know
their disposition towards the Count d'Artois, and they assured him that it
could not be more favourable.
In order to comprehend the motive of these questions, it should be knoAvn
that the Baron de Breteuil was the declared enemy of Calonne: that his
enmity had not ceased at the time of the emigration ; and that, charged with
the fall powers of Louis XVI.* to the court of Vienna, he crossed all the
proceedings of the princes. He assured Leopold that the King would not
consent to be saved by the emigrants, because he dreaded their rapacity, and
that the Queen personally had quarrelled with Count d'Artois. lie always
proposed for the welfare of the throne the very contrary to wliat Calonne
proposed, and he neglected nothing to destroy the effect of this new nego-
tiation. The Count de Durfort returned to Mantua, and on the 20th of
May, 1791, Leopold promised to set in motion thirty-five thousand men in
Flanders, and fifteen thousand in Alsace. He declared that a like n\iml)er
of Swiss shotild march upon Lyons, as many Piedmontese upon Dauphine.
and that Spain should assemble twenty tliou-and men. The Emperor pro-
mised the co-operation of the King of Prussia and the neutrality of England.
* See Bertrand de Molleville on this subject.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 177
A protest was to be drawn up in the name of the house of Bourbon, and
signed by the King of Naples, the King of Spain, the Infant of Parma, and
tiie expatriated princes. Until then the utmost secrecy was to be observed.
It was recommended to Louis XVI. not to think, of withdrawing, though he
had expressed a desire to do so. Breteuil, on the contrary, advised tlie
King to set out. It is possible that this advice was well meant on both
sides. Still it must be remarked that it was given with an eye to the inte-
rest of each. Breteuil, with a view to counteract Calonne's negotiation at
Mantua, recommended departure; and Calonne, whose rule would have been
at an end if Louis XVI. had removed beyond the frontiers, caused it to be
intimated to him that he ought to remain. Be this as it may, the King
resolved to set out, and he frequendy said with displeasure, " It is Breteuil
who insists on it."* Accordingly he wrote to Bouille that he was deter-
mined to wait no longer. It was not his intention to leave the kingdom,
but to retire to Montmedy, where he might, in case of need, be supported
by Luxemburg, and receive foreign aid. The Chalons road, by Clermont
and Varennes, was preferred, contrary to the advice of Bouille. All the
preparations were made for starting on the 20tli of June. The general as-
sembled ihe troops on which he c<iuld place most reliance, prepared a camp
at Montmedy, collected forage, and alleged movements which he perceived
on the frontiers as a pretext for all these dispositions. The Queen took
upon herself all the preparations from Paris to Chalons, and Bouille from
Chahms to Montmedy. Small detachments of cavalry, upon pretext of es-
corting money, were to proceed to different points and receive the King on
his passage. Bouille himself purposed to advance to some distance from
Montmedy. The Queen had secured a private door for quittinsr the palace.
The roval family was to travel by a foreign name, and wiUi a tictitious pass-
port. Every thing was arranged for the 20th, but some alarm caused the
journey to be deferred until the 2Lst, a delay which proved fatal to this un-
fortunate family. M. de Lafayette knew nothing whatever of the plan, nay,,
even M. de Montmorin, though possessing the confidence of the court, was
entirely ignorant of it: the secret was entrusted to those persons only who
were indispensable for its execution. Rumours of llight had been circu-
lated, either because the scheme had transpired, or because it was one of those
alarms which are so frequently raised. At any rate, the committee of re-
search had been apprized of it, and the vigilance of the national guard had
been in consequence increased.
In the evening of the 21st of June, the King, the Queen, Madame Eliza-
beth,! and Madame de Tourzel, governess of the royal duldren, disguised
themselves, and successively quitted the palace. Madame De Tourzel pro-
ceeded with the children to the Petit Carrousel, and got into a carriage
driven by M. de Fersen, a young foreign sfentleman disguised as a coachman.
The King soon joined them. But the Queen, who had gone away with a life-
guardsman, occasioned them all the utmost anxiety. Neither herself nor
her guide was acquainted with the streets of Paris ; she lost her way, and
it was an hour before she found the Petit Carrousel. On her way ihidier
she met the carriage of M. de Lafayette, whose attendants walked by it
with torches. She concealed herself beneath the wickets of the Louvre, and,
* See Bertrand de ^ollcvillc.
•{■"Madame Elizabeth was an angel of goodness. How often have I witnessed her kind-
ness to those in distress! Her heart was the abode of all the virtues. She was indulgent,
modest, sensible, devout, and during the Revolution displayed heroic courage." — Madame
LebrtDi's Mernnirs. E.
VOL. I. — 23
178 HISTORY OF THE
having escaped this danger, reached the carriage where she was awaited with
extreme impatience. The whole family, being now together, lost no time
in setting out. They arrived, after a long ride, at the Porte 8t. Martin, and
mounted a berline with six horses stationed there to wait for them. Madame
de Tourzel, by the name of Madame de Korff, was to pass for a mother
travelling with her children; and the King for her valet de cliambre. Three
of the life-guards, in disguise, were to precede the carriage as couriers or to
follow it as servants. At length they started, attended by the good wishes
of M. de Fersen, Avho returned to Paris, with the intention of setting out for
Brussels. Meanwhile Monsieur proceeded with his consort towards Flan-
ders, travelling a different road to prevent suspicions, and lest there should
be a want of horses at the different stations.
They travelled all night, during which Paris knew nothing of the matter.
M. de Fersen hastened to the municipality to ascertain what was known
there. At eight o'clock people were still unacquainted with the circum-
stance. But the report soon got abroad and spread with rapidity.* Lafay-
ette sent for his aides-de-camp and ordered them to set out immediately,
saying that though there was little hope of their overtaking the fugitives,
still they must try what they could do. He issued this order on his own
responsibility, and in drawing it up he expressed his presumption that the
royal family had been carried off by enemies of the public welfare. This
respectful supposition was admitted by the Assembly, and invariably adopted
by all the authorities. At this moment the people, in commotion, re-
proaclied Lafayette with having favoured the King's escape. The aristo-
cratic party, on the contrary, has since accused him of having winked at his
flight, with the intention of stopping liim afterwards, and thus ruining him
by this vain attempt. If, however, Lafayette had chosen to wink at the
King's flight, would he have sent two aides-de-camp in pursuit of him, be-
fore any order was issued by the Assembly ? And if, as the aristocrats have
surmised, he had permitted his flight merely with a view to retake him,
would he have allowed the carriage a whole night's start? The populace
was soon convinced of its mistake, and Lafayette reinstated in its good
opinion.
The Assembly met at nine in the morning. Its attitude was as majestic
as it had been in the first days of the Revolution. The supposition adopted
was that Louis XVI. had been carried off. The utmost calmness and har-
mony prevailed during the whole of this sitting. The measures spontane-
ously taken by Lafayette were approved of. The people had stopped his
* " A group in the Palais Royal were discussing, in great alarm, the consequence of the
King's flight, when a man dressed in a threadbare great coat leaped on a chair and addressed
them thus : ' Citizens, listen to a tale which shall not be a long one. A certain well mean-
ing Neapolitan was once on a time startled in his evening walk hy the astounding intelli-
gence that the pope was dead. He had not recovered his astonishment, when, behold ! he
was informed of a new disaster — the King of Naples was also no more. Surely, said the
worthy Neapolitan, the sun must vanish from heaven at such a combination of fatalities!
But they did not cease here. The Archbishop of Palermo, he was informed, had also died
suddenly. Overcome by this last shock, he retired to bed, hut not to sleep. In the morning
he was disturbed in his melancholy reverie by a rumbling noise, which he recognised at once
to be the motion of the wooden instrument which makes maccaroni. Aha! says the good
man, starting up, can I trust my ears? 'The Pope is dead — the King of Naples is dead — the
Bishop of Palermo is dead — yet my neighbour the baker still makes maccaroni. Come, the
lives of these great men are not then so indispensable to the world after all.' The man in
the greatcoat jumped down and disappeared. 'I have caught his meaning,' said a woman
among the listeners. ' He has told us a tale, and it begins like all tales — There was once a
King and a Queen.' " — Scott's Life nf Napoleon. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 179
aides-de-camp at the barriers. The Assembly, universally obeyed, ordered
the gates to be opened to them. One of them, young Romeuf, was the
bearer of the decree confirmino; the orders already issued by the general, and
enjoining the public functionaries to slop, by all the means in their power,
tlic progress of the said abduction, and to prevent the continuanre of the
journey. At the suggestion of the people, and upon the information fur-
nished by them, Romeuf took the road to Chalons, which Avas the riglit one,
as the appearance upon it of a carriage and six sufficiently indicated. Tlie
Assembly then summoned the ministers, and passed a decree that they
should receive orders from it alone. At his departure Louis XVI. had
commanded the minister of justice to send him the seal of state. The
Assembly directed that the seal should be retained for the purpose of being
aflixetl to its decrees : it decided at tlie same time that the frontiers should
be put in a state of defence, and that the ministers for foreign affairs should
be charged to assure the powers that die dispositions of the French nation
in regard to them remained unchanged.
M. de la I'orle, intendant of the civil list, was then heard. Tie had
received several messages from the Kin^ : among others, a note, whicli he
begged the Assembly not to open, and a memorial stating the reasons for
departure. The Assembly, ready to pay due regard to all rights, returned,
unopened, the note which AI. de la Porte was unwilling to make public, and
ordered the memorial to be read. It was listened to with the utmost calm-
ness. It produced scarcely any impression. The King complained of his
loss of power without sufficient dignity, and he seemed as much mortified
at the reduction of the civil list to thirty millions as at the loss of all his
other prerogatives. The Assembly listened to the complaints of the
monarch, pitied his weakness, and proceeded to the consideration of other
matters.
At this moment very few persons wished for the apprehension of Louis
XVI. The aristocrats beheld in his flio-ht the realization of the oldest of
their wishes, and flattered themselves Avith the prospect of a speedy civil
war. The most veliement members of the popular party, who already began
to be tired of the King, found in his absence an occasion to dispense with
him, and indulged the idea and the liope of a republic, 'i^he Avhole moderate
party, which at this moment governed tlie Assembly, wished that the King
might arrive safely at Montmedy; and, relying upon his equity, it flattered
itself that an accommodation l)etween the throne and the nation would be
thereby facilitated. Few persons, at this time, were apprehensive, as
formerly, of seeing the monarch threatening tlie constitution from amidst an
army. The populace alone, into whom this apprehension had been studi-
ously instilled, continued to retain it when it was no longer felt by the
Assembly, and ardently wished for the recapture of the royal family. Such
was the state of things at Paris.*
The can-iage which set out in the night between the 21st and 22d, had
* " The National Assembly never committed so great an error as in bringing back the
King from Varennes. A fugitive and po\vcrlesi5, he was hastoning to tlio frontier, and in a
few hours would have been out of the French territory. What should they have done in
these circumstances 1 Clearly have facilitated his escape, and declared the throne vacant by
his desertion. 'J'hey ^S^ould thus have avoided the infamy of a regicide govrrnment, and
attained their great object of rejiublican institutions. Instead of which, by bringing hira
back, tiiey encumbered themselves with a sovereign whom they had no just reason for
destroying, and lost the inestimaliie advantage of getting quit of the royal family without aa
act of cruelty." — Napuleori's Memtnrs. E.
ISO HISTORY OF THE
performed great part of tlie journey, and arrived witliout impediment al
Chalons about five o'clock, the next afternoon. There the King, wlio had
been imprudent enough to put his head frequently out at the window, was
recognised. Tlie person who made this discovery would at once have
divulged the secret, but he was prevented by the mayor, who was a stanch
royalist. On reaching Pont de Sommeville, the royal family did not find
the detachments which ought to have received it there ; those detachments
had been waiting for several hours ; but the excitement of the people,
alarmed at this movement of troops, had obliged them to retire.
The King, meanwhile, arrived at St. Menehould. There, still showing
himself at the window, he was perceived by Drouet, the postmaster's son,
a violent revolutionist. This voung man, not having time to cause the car-
^iage to be detained at St Menehould, posted off to Varennes. A worthy
quartermaster, who had observed his haste, and suspected his motives, flew
after to stop him, but could not overtake him. Drouet used such speed that
he arrived at Varennes before the unfortunate family. He immediately gave
information to the municipality, and caused all the necessary measures for
apprehending the fugitives to be taken forthwith. Varennes is situated on
the bank of a narrow but deep river. A detachment of hussars was on the
watch there, but the officer not seeing the treasure arrive which he had been
directed to wait for, had left his men in their quarters. The carriage at
length drove up and crossed the bridge. No sooner was it beneath an arch-
way through which it was obliged to pass, than Drouet, assisted by another
person, stopped the horses. "Your passport!" he exclaimed, and with a
musket he threatened the travellers if they persisted in proceeding. The
order was complied with, and the passport handed to him. Drouet took it,
and said that it must be examined by the solicitor of the commune. The
royal family was then conducted to the house of this solicitor, named Sausse.
The latter, after examining the passport, and pretending to find it quite right,
very politely begged the King to wait ; he accordingly waited a considerable
time. When Sausse had at length ascertained that a sufficient number of
the national guards had assembled, he threw off all disguise, and informed
the prince that he was recognised and apprehended. An altercation ensued.
Louis declared that he was not what he was taken to be, and the dispute
growing too warm, "Since vou acknowledge him to be your King,"
exclaimed the Queen, angrily, " speak to him with the respect that you owe
him."
The Kinff, seeing that further denial was useless, took no more trouble to
disguise himself. The little room was full of people. He spoke and
expressed hiinself with a warmth that was unusual with him. He protested
his good intentions, asserted that he was SToing to Montmedv, merely that
he might listen more freely to the wishes of his people, by withdrawing from
the tyranny of Paris; lastly, he insisted on continuing his journey, and
being conducted to the end of it. The unfortunate prince, with deep emo-
tion, embraced Sausse, and implored him to save his wife and his children.
The Queen joined him, and, taking the dauphin in her arms, besought
Sausse to release them. Sausse was affected, but withstood their entreaties,
and advised them to return to Paris, to prevent a civil war. The King, on
the contrary, having a dread of returning, persisted in proceeding to
Montmedy.
At this moment Messrs. de Damas and de Goquelas arrived with the
detachments which had been stationed at different points. The royal family
considered itself as saved ; but the hussars were not to be relied on. The
FRE^XPI REVOLUTION. 18k
officers assembled them, informed them that the King^ and his familv were
apprehended, and that they must release them. The men replied that they
w re for t le nation. At the same instant the national g-uards, called together
from all the environs, arrived and filled Varennes. The whole nij/ht was
passed in this state. At six in the morning, young Romeuf arrived with the
decree of the Assembly. He found the carriage with six horses harnessed
to it, and turned towards Paris. He went up stairs and delivered the decree
with pain. A general outcry l)urst from the whole family against M. de
Lafayette, who caused them to be apprehended. The Queen even expressed
her astonishment that he had not been put to death by tlie people. Romeuf
replied that his general and himself had only done their dutv in pursuing
them, but that they had hoped not to overtake them. The Queen took up
the decree, threw it on the bed of her children, then snatched it up again,
saying that it would pollute them. " Madame," said Romeuf, Avho was
attached to her, " would you rather have any one but me to witness these
passions ?" The Queen then came to herself, and resumed all her dignity.
At the same moment the arrival of difierent corps, stationed in the environs
by Bouille, was announced. The municipality then gave orders for starling.
The royal family was of course obliged to enter the carriage, and to take
the road to Paris, that fatal and deeply dreaded course !
Bouille, roused in the middle of the nigiit, had mounted a regiment of
horse, and set out with shouts of ''Long live the Kins;!'''' This brave
general, urged by anxiety, marched with all speed, and proceeded nine
leagues in four hours. He arrived at Varennes, where he found several
corps already collected. But the King had been gone an hour and a half;
Varennes was barricaded, and judicious arrangements had been made for
its defence ; the bridge was broken down, and the river was not fordable.
Thus, after a first combat to carry the barricades, it would have been neces-
sary to seek the means of crossing the river, and, after such a loss of time,
to overtake the carriage, which had got the start by an hour and a half.
These obstacles rendered any attempt at rescue impossible ; and it required
nothing short of such an impossibility to deter a man so loj'al and so enter-
prising as Bouille. He retired, therefore, overwhelmed with grief and
mortification.
When news of the King's apprehension arrived in Paris, he was believed
to be beyond reach. The people manifested extraordinary joy. The
Assembly deputed three coinmissioners, selected from the three sections of
the left side, to accompany the monarch, and to condiict him back to Paris.
These commissioners were Barnave, liatour-Mauhourg, and Petion. They
repaired to Chalons, and, from the moment that they joined the court, all
orders emanated from thein alone. Madame de Tourzel removed into a
second carriage with Latour-Mnubourg ; Barnave and Petion entered that
of the royal family. Latour-Maubourg, a person of distinction, was a
friend of Tiafnyette, and, like him, was as strongly attached to the King as
to the constitution. In yieldino; to his two coUcairues the honour of bcins:
•111/"
with the royal famdy, it was his intention to interest them in behalf of
fallen greatness. Barnave sat at the back, between the King and Queen ;
Petion in front, between Madame Elizabeth and Madame Royale ; the
young dauphin onihe lap, first of one and then of another. Such had been
the rapid course of events ! A young advocate of some twenty years,
remarkable only for his abilities, and another, distinguished by his talents,
but, above all, by the sternness of his principles, were seated beside a
prince lately the most absolute in Europe, and commanded all his move-
Q
182 HISTORY OF THE
merits. The journey was slow, because tlie carriage followed the pace of
the national guards. It took eight days to return from Varennes to Paris.
The heat was excessive ; and a scorching dust, raised by the multitude,
half sufibcated the travellers. At first a deep silence prevailed. Tiie Queen
could not conceal her vexation. The King at length entered into conversa-
tion with Barnave. It turned upon all sorts of subjects, and lastly upon the
fliglit to Montmedy. Both were surprised to find the others what they
were. The Queen was astonished at the superior understanding and the
delicate politeness of young Barnave.* She soon threw up her veil and
took part in the conversation. Barnave was touched by the good-nature of
the King and the graceful dignity of the Queen. Petion displayed more
rudeness ; he showed and received less respect. By the time they reached
Paris, Barnave was strongly attaclied to tlie unfortunate family, and the
Queen, charmed with the merits and the good sense of the young tril)une,
had granted him all her esteem. Hence it was tliat, in all the intercourse
wluch she afterwards had with tlie constitutional deputies, it was in liim
that she placed the greatest confidence. Parties would forgive, if they
could see and hear one another.!
* "Ant. Pierre Jos. Marie Barnave was a barrister, and deputy to the States-general. The
son of a very rich attorney of Grenoble, he warmly espoused the revolutionary party, and
was named by the tiers-etat deputy of that town to the States-general. He there showed
himself from the beginning one of the most implacable enemies of the court. He warmly
supported the Tennis-court oath, and declared loudly in favour of the assertion of the rights
of man. In 1790 he voted the abolition of religious orders. At the meeting of the 22d
of May he was one of those who were decidedly of opinion that the King should be de-
prived of the right of making war and peace, and opposed Mirabeau on many great ques-
tions of policy. At the sitting of the 19th of June he demanded that the Assembly should,
before it rose, decree the suppression of all feudal titles and rights. In August he fought a
d\in\ with M. de Cazales, and wounded him with a pistol-shot. Barnave had before lought
with the Viscount de Noailles; he had fired first, and missed his adversary, who discharged
his pistol in the air; the difference was then adjusted by their friends. At the time of Louis
XVI.'s flight, Barnave showed great presence of mind in the midst of the stupefaction of
the greatest part of the Assembly. On the news arriving of the King's arrest, Barnave was
appointed, together with Petion and Jjatour-Maubourg, to bring the royal family back to
Paris. He returned in the same carriage with them ; showed them great respect, and, by so
doing, lost much of his popularity. In giving an account of his mission, he spoke about
the inviolability of the King's person, for which he was hooted by the Assembly. At the
end of the session Barnave was appointed mayor of Grenoble, where he married the only
daughter of a lawyer, who brought him a fortune of 700,000 livres. After the events of
the 10th of August, 1792, certain documents having established the connivance of Barnave
with the court, he was brought before the revolutionary tribunal of Paris, and condemned
to death on the 29th of November, 1793. Barnave was a small, but well-looking man, and
professed protestantism. Few orators of his day possessed so much grace of diction and
sagacity of analysis. Mirabeau himself was astonished that a young man should speak so
long, so rapidly, and so eloquently, and said of Barnave, ' It is a young tree, which, how-
ever, will tnount high, if it be let to grow." — Biogmphie Moderne. E.
I The following particulars of the return from Varennes were communicated to Madame
Campan by the Queen herself:
" On the very day of my arrival, the Queen took me into her cabinet, to tell me that she
had great need of my assistance for a correspondence which she had established with Messrs.
Barnave, Duport, and Alexandre Lameth. She informed me that M. deJ*** was her
agent with these relics of the constitutional party, who had good intentions, but unfor-
tunately too late; and she added that Barnave was a man worthy to inspire esteem. I was
surprised to hear the name of Barnave uttered with such kindness. VVhen I had (juitted
Paris, a great number of persons never mentioned it but with horror. I made this remark
to her; she was not astonished at it, but told me that he was very much changed : that this
young man, full of intelligence and noble sentiments, was of the class who are distinguished
by education, and merely mislead by the ambition arising from real merit. 'A feeling of
pride, which I cannot blame too much in a young man of the tiers-etat,' said the Queen
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 183
In Paris, the reception to be given to the royal family had been decided
upon. A public notice was distributed and posted everywhere : Jflio-
ever appluwh the King shall be Jlugged : whoever insults him shall be
hanged. The order was punctually obeyed. Neither applauses nor insults
with reference to Barnave, 'has caused him to applaud all that tends to smooth the way to
honours and glory for the class in which he was born. If power should ever fall again into
our hands, the pardon of Barnave is written beforehand in our hearts.' The Queen added
that the same sentiments were not felt for the nobles who had thrown themselves into the
revolutionary party, they who obtained all favours, and frequently to the detriment of per-
sons of an inferior order, among whom were to be found the most splendid talents; lastly,
that the nobles, born to be the rampart of the monarchy, were too culpable in having lie-
traycd its cause to deserve pardon. The Queen astonished me more and more by the warmth
with which she justified the favourable opinion that she had formed of Barnave. She then
told me that his conduct during the journey had been excellent, whilst the republican rude-
ness of Pftion had been insulting ; that he ate and drank in the King's carriage with little
regard to delicacy, throwing fowls' bones out at the window, at the risk of hitting the King
in the face, lifting up his glass, when Madame Elizabeth was helping him to wine, without
saying a word to signify that he had had enough ; that this offensive tone was wilfully
assumed, since he was a man of education ; and that Barnave had been shocked at it.
Being pressed by the Queen to take something ; ' Madame,' replied Barnave, ' the deputies
of the National Assembly, under circumstances so solemn, ought to trouble your majesty
solely with their mission and by no means with their wants.' In short, his respectful
behaviour, his delicate attentions, and all that he said, had won not only her good-will, but
also that of Madame Elizabeth.
" The King had begun to speak to Petion on the situation of France and on the motives
of his conduct, which were grounded on the necessity of giving to the executive power a
force requisite for its action for the welfare of the constitutional act itself, since France
could not be a republic . . . 'Not yet, to be sure,' replied Petion, 'because the French are
not yet ripe enough for that.' This audacious and cruel reply imposed silence on the King,
who maintained it till his arrival at Paris. Petion had the liule dauphin on his knees; he
amused himself with rolling the fair hair of the interesting boy upon his fingers; and, iu
the warnilli of talking, he pulled his locks with such force as to make him cry .... 'Give
me mv cbiKI,' said the Queen, 'he is accustomed to kindness, to respect, which unfit him
for such familiarities.'
" The Chevalier de Dampierre had been killed near the King's carriage, as it left Varennes.
A poor village cure, a few leagues from the place where this crime was committed, had the
im])ru(!eiice to approach for the purpose of speaking to the King: the savages who sur-
rounded the carriage rushed upon him. ' Tigers,' cried Barnave, ' have you ceased to be
French] From a nation of brave men, are you changed into a nation of murderers 1'
Nothing but these words saved the cure, who was already struck to the ground, from certain
death. Barnave, as he uttered them, had almost thrown himself out at the door, and
Madame P^lizabeth, touched by this noble warmth, held him back by his coat. In speaking
of this circumstance, the Queen said that in the most critical moments she was always
struck by odd contrasts ; and that, on this occasion, the pious Elizabeth, holding Barnave
by the skirt of his coat, had appeared to her a most surprising thing. That deputy had
experienced a dill'erent kind of astonishment. The remarks of Madame Elizabeth on the
slate of France, her mild and persuasive eloiiuencc, the noble simplicity with which she
conversed with Barnave, without abating an iota of her dignity, all appeared to him celestial
in that divine princess, and his heart, disposed undoubtedly to noble senlimenls. if he had
not pursued the way of error, was subdued by the most touching admiration. The conduct
of the two deputies showed the Queen the total separation between the republican party and
the constitutional party. At the inns where she alighted, she had some private conversations
with Barnave. The latter talked much of the blunders of the royalists in the Kevoiution,
and said that he had found the interests of the (tourt so feebly, so injudiciously, defended,
that he had several times been tempted to make it an offer of a bold champion, acquainted
with the spirit of the age and that of the nation. The Queen asked what were tlie means
that he should have'y advised resorting to. ' Popularity, madam.' — 'And how could I have
any?' replied her majesty. 'It had been taken from me.' — '.\h, madam! it was much
easier for you to conquer it than for me to olitain it.' This assertion would furnish matter
for comment : my task is merely to record this curious conversation.'' — Jlcmuircs de Ma-
dame de Campan, tome ii., p. 150, et seq. E.
1 84 HISTORY OF THE
were heard. The carriage made a circuit, that it might not be obliged to
traverse Paris. It entered by the Champs Elysees, which led directly to
the palace. An immense crowd received it in silence, and with hats on.
Lafayette, folipwed by a numerous guard, had taken all possible precau-
tions. The three life-guardsmen who had assisted the King's flight were
on the box, exposed to the gaze and the wrath of the people ; they never-
theless experienced no violence,* The moment the carriage arrived at the
palace, it was surrounded. The royal family hastily alighted, and passed
between a double file of national guards, di-awn up for its protection. The
Queen, who was the last to alight, was almost borne along in the arms of
Messrs. de Noadles and d'Aiguillon, enemies of the court, but generous
friends of misfortune. On observing them approach, she had at first some
doubts respecting their intentions ; but she resigned herself to them, and
arrived safe and unharmed at the palace.
Such was that journey, the fatal issue of which cannot be fairly attributed
to any of those by whom it was planned. An accident thwarted it. An
accident might have crowned it with success. If, for instance, Drouet had
been overtaken and stopped by his pursuer, the carriage would have escaped.
Perhaps too, the King was deficient in energy when he was recognised.
Be that as it may, this journey cannot be matter of reproach to any one,
either to those who advised, or to those who executed it. It was the result
of that fatality which pursues weakness amidst revolutionary crises.
The journey to Varennes had the effect of destroying all respect for the
King, of habituating men's minds to do without him, and of exciting a wish
for a republic. On the very morning of his arrival, the Assembly had pro-
vided for everything by a decree. Louis XVI. was suspended from his
functions ; a guard was placed over his person, and that of the Queen and
the dauphin. That guard was made responsible for their safe custody.
Three deputies, d'Andre, Tronchet, and Duport, were commissioned to
take the declarations of tlie King and Queen. The utmost delicacy was
observed in the expressions ; for never was this Assembly deficient in deco-
rum ; but the result was evident, and the King was for the time being
dethroned.
The responsibility imposed on the national guard rendered it strict and
frequently annoying in its duty about the royal persons. Sentinels were
constantly stationed at their door, and never lost sight of them. The King,
wishing one day to ascertain if he was really a prisoner, went up to a door ;
* " Lafjiyette went forward to meet the procession. During his absence an immense
crowd had been allowed to approach the Tuilories ; and endeavoured, as the royal family
we:e alighting, to maltreat the two gardes-du-corps who had served as couriers during the
escape, and were then seated on the box of the King's carriage. The Queen, anxious for
their safety, no sooner saw the commander-in-chief, than she exclaimed, ' Save the gardes-
du-corps ;' on which Lafayette placed them himself in security in one of the halls of the
palace. The royal family alighted without having experienced any insults. The King
was apparently calm ; Lafayette then, with a feeling of mingled respect and emotion, pre-
sented himself at the thing's a])artment, and said to him, ' Has your majesty any orders to
give me V — ' It appears to me,' replied the King, with a smile, ' that I am more under your
orders than you are under mine.' Lafayette then respectfully announced to him the decree
of the Assembly, at which the King testified no displeasure. The Queen, however, betrayed
some irritability, and wished to force Lafayette to receive the keys of the desks, which had
remained in the carriage. He replied, that no person thought, or would think, of opening
those desks. The Queen then placed the keys on his hat. Lafayette requested her to par-
don the trouble he gave her of taking back those keys, and declared that he would not
touch them. — ' Well,' said the Queen, impatiently, ' I shall find persons less scrupulous than
you are.' " — Lafayettts Memoirs. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 1S5
the sentinel opposed his passage. " Do you know me ?" said Louis XVI.
*' Yes, sire," replied the sentinel. All the liberty the King had left to him
was to walk in the TuUeries in the morning, before the garden was opened
to tlie public.
Barnave and the Lameths then did what they had so severely reproached
Mirabeau for doing — they lent their aid to the throne and reconciled them-
selves with the court. It is true that they received no money: but it was
not so much the price of the alliance, as the alliance itself, that they had
flung in the teeth of Mirabeau ; and, after having formerly been so severe,
they now followed the custom of all popular chiefs, which is, to aUy them-
selves successively with power, as soon as they arrive at it. However,
nothing could be more praisewortliy in the state of affairs at that moment,
than the service rendered to the King hy Barnave and the Lameths ; and
never did they display more address, energy, and talent. Barnave dictated
the answer of the Kiiig to the commissioners appointed hy the Assembly.
In tills answer, Louis XVI. assigned as the motive for his flight a desire to
make himself better acquainted with the state of public opinion ; he de-
clared that he had learned nnich on that head during his journey, and
proved Iiy a variety of facts that it had not been his intention to leave France.
As for the protestations contained in his memorial transmitted to the Assem-
bly, he justly alleged that they bore not upon the fundamental principles of
the constitution, but upon the means of execution that were left liim.
Now, he added, that the general will was clearly manifested to him, he did
not hesitate to submit to it, and to make all the sacrifices requisite for the
public welfare. "^
•
Here is the answer itself, the composition of Barnave, and a model of reasoning, ad-
dress, and dignity :
" I see, gentlemr-n," said Louis XVL to the commissioners, " I sec by the olijert of the
mission which is given to you, that here is no question of an examination ; I will thercfire
answer the inquiries of the Assembly. I shall never be afraid of making public the motives
of my conduct. It was the insults and menaces offered to my family and myself on the I8lh
of April, that were the cause of my departure from Paris. Several publications have endea-
voured to provoke acts of violence against my person and against my famdy. I deemed that
there would not be safety, or even decency, for me to remain longer in this city. Never was
it my intention to leave the kingdom; I had had no concert on this subject, either with
foreign powers or with my relatives, or with any of the French emigrants. I can slate in
proof of my intentions, that ajiartments were provided at Montmedy for my reception. I
had selected this place, because, being fortified, my family would be safer there; because,
being near the frontiers, I should have been better al)le to oppose every kind of invasion of
France, had a disposition been shown to attempt any. One of the princijial motives for
quiuing Paris was to set at rest the argument of my non-freedom, which was likely to furnish
occasion for disturbances. If I had harboured an intention of leaving the kingdom, I shoidJ
not have published mv memorial on the very day of my departure ; I should have waited
till I was beyond the frontiers ; but I always entertained the wish to return to Paris. It is
in this. sense that the last sentence in my memorial must be taken, where it is said, ' French-
men, and, above all, Parisians, what pleasure shall I feel in linding myself again in your
midst !' I had in my carriage but three thousand louis in gold, and fifty-six thou-
sand livres in assii;nats. I did not warn Monsieur of my departure till a very short time
before. Monsieur has gone info another country only because he had ncreed with me that
we should not both take the same route ; he was to come back into France to me. 'J'he
passport was requisite to facilitate my journey ; it purported to be for a foreign country
merely because the ofllcc for foreign affairs gives none for the interior of the kingdom. The
road to Frankfi)rl was not even taken. I have made no protest but in the memorial which I
left before my departure. That protest does not bear, as the tenor of it attests, upon the
groundwork of the principles of the ccmstifution, but on the form of sanctions : that is to
say, on the little liberty that I appeared to enjoy, and on the circumstance that, as the de-
crees had not been laid before me en masse, I could not judge of the constitution as a whole.
VOL. I. 2t Q 2
186 HISTORY OF THE
Bouille, in order to draw upon himself the indignation of the Assembly,
addressed to it a letter, which might be called mad, but lor the generous
motive which dictated it. He avowed liimself the sole author of the King's
journey, though, on the contrary, he had opposed it. lie declared, in the
name of the sovereigns, that Paris sliould be responsible for the safety of tlie
royal family, and that the sliglitest injury offered to them should be signally
avenged. He added, what he knew to be otherwise, tiiat the military means
of France were nearly null; that he was well acquainted with the points
where an invading force miglit enter, and that he would himself lead the
hostile armies into the heart of the country. Tlie Assembly winked at this
generous bravado, and threw the whole blame on Bouille, who had nothing
to fear, for he was already abroad.
The court of Spain, apprehending that the slightest movement might pro-
duce irritation and expose the royal family to still greater dangers, prevented
an attempt that was about to be made on the southern frontier, in which the
Knights of Malta were to assist with two frigates. It then declared to the
French government that its good disposition towards it remained unchanged.
The north behaved witli much less moderation. On that side, tlie powers,
instigated by the emigrants, began to tlireaten. Envoys were despatclied
by the King to Brussels and Cohlentz, to come to an understanding witli
the emigrants in those places, to acquaint them with the favourable disposi-
tion of the Assembly, and the hopes entertained of an advantageous arrange-
ment. But, no sooner liad they arrived than they were treated with
indignity, and immediately returned to Paris. The emigrants raised troops
in tlie name of the King, and thus obliged him to give them a formal contra-
diction. They pretended that Monsieur, who had by tliis time joined them,
was regent of the kingdom ; that the King, being a prisoner, had im will of
his own, and that which he expressed was only the will of his oppressors.
The peace concluded by Catherine witii the Turks in the month of August
heightened their senseless joy, and they fancied that they liad all the powers
of Europe at their disposal. Considering tlie disarming of tlie fortresses,
and the disorganization of the army, which all the officers were leaving,
they could not suppose the result of the invasion to be doubtful or the fitting
time for it far distant. They had nevertheless been out of France nearly
two years, and, though daily flattering themselves with the prospect, they
had not yet returned victorious. The powers seemed to promise much, but
Pitt hung back; Leopold, exhausted by the war, and displeased with the
emigrants, wished for peace; the King of Prussia promised a great deal,
but had no interest in keeping his word ; Gustavus was anxious to command
an expedition against France, but he was at a great distance ; and Catherine,
Avho was to second him, had scarcely got rid of the Turks, and still had
Poland to reduce. Besides, in order to effect this coalition, it would be
necessary to reconcile so many conflicting interests, that it was scarcely
possible to entertain any hope of success.
The chief reproach contained in the memorial relates to the difficulties in the means of
administration and execution. I have ascertained during my journey that public opinion
was decided in favour of the constitution ; I did not coMceive that I could judi^e fully of this
pul)lic opinion in Paris; but, from the observations which I have personally made during
my journey, I am convinced how necessary it is for the support of the constitution to give
strength to the powers established for the maintenance of public order. As soon as I had
ascertained the general will, I hesitated not, as I never have hesitated, to make a sacrifice of
everything that is personal to me. The hap[)iness of the people has always been the object
of my wishes. I will gladly forget all the crosses that I have experienced, if I can bat insure
the peace and felicity of the nation."
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 187
Tlie declaration of Pilnitz ought more especially to liave enlightened the
emigrants respecting the zeal ol" the sovereigns. This declaration, issued
jointly by the King of Prussia and tlie Emperor Leopold, purported that the
situation of tlie King of France was a suhject of general interest to all the
sovereigns, and that they would imdoubledly unite to furnish Louis XVL
w'hh tiie means of establishing a government suitable to tlic interests of the
throne and of the people ; that, in this case, the King of Prussia and the
emperor would join the other princes, to attain the same end. Meanwhile
their troops sho\dd be put into a condition for active service. It was after-
wards known that this declaration contained secret articles. 'J'hey jiur-
ported that Austria would not oppose any obstacle to the claims of Pnissia
to part of Poland. It required this concession to induce Prussia to neglect
lier more ancient interests bv connecting herself with Austria against France.
What could be expected from a zeal that it was necessary to excite by such
means ? And if it was so reserved in its expressions, what was it likely to
be in its acts ? France, it is true, was in a disarmed state ; but a whole
nation aroused is soon armed ; and, as the celebrated Carnoi observed at a
later period, what is impossible to twenty-five millions of men ? It is true
that tlie officers were retiring, but, being generally young and owing their
appointment to favour, tliey were inexperienced and disliked by the army.
Besidi'S, the impetus given to all the resources of war was on the point of
speedily producing officers and generals. Still, it must be confessed that,
even without the presumption of ('ol)lentz, one might fairly have doubted
llie resistance which France opposed somewhat later to her invaders.
Meanwhile, the Assembly sent commissioners to the frontiers and ordered
great preparations. All the national guards offered to march. Several
generals tendered their services, and among others Dumouriez,* who sub-
sequently saved France in the defiles of Argonne.
The Assembly, while attending to the external safety of the state, hastened
to complete its constitutional labours, to restore to the King his functions,
and if possible some of his [)rerogatives.
All the subdivisions of the left side, excepting the men who had just
assumed the new name of republicans, had rallied around one and the same
system of moderation, liarnave and Malouet went hand in hand and
lal)Oured in concert. Petion, Robespierre, Bnzot, and some others had
adopted the republic ; but tlieir number was small. The right side persisted
in its imprudent conduct, and protested, instead of joining die moderate
majority. This majority, liowever, uoverned the Asseniltly. Its enemies,
who would have accused it, if it had dethroned the King, nevertheless
• " Dumouriez, born at Camliray, and descenilcJ from a Provencal n»mily engaged in the
law, wii-; forty-seven years of age at the comineneement of the Kcvolution. V\) to that time
he hail lived amidst intrigues, which ho was. but too fond of engaging in. 'J'he first part of
his polilieal life was spent in discovering those by whose help he might rise; and the second,
in discovering those who were able to support his elevation. A courtier before 1789 ; a con-
stitutional under the first Assembly ; a Girondiii under the second ; and a Jacobin under the
repuiilic, he was eminently the creature of the time. But he had all the resources of great
men ; an enterprising disposition, iinlefati^able activity, and prompt, accurate, and extended
views; extraordinary impetuosity in action, and unbounded confidence in success. He
was, besides, frank, ingenious, clever, bold, equ:dly fitted for the council and the field ; full
of expedients, and knowing how to submit to the misfortune of a difficult position until he
could change it. It must be admitted, however, that these fine qualities were injured by
several delects. Dumouriez was rash, thoughtless, and extremely capricious, in consequence
of his ontinual thirst for action. But his great fault was, want of ail political principle." —
Minuet. E.
188 HISTORY OF THE
reproached it for having brought him back to Paris and replaced him on a
tottering throne. Bat what could it do ? To supersede the King by a
republic would have been too hazardous. To change the dynasty would
have been useless ; for ^f they meant to give tliemselves a King, they might
as well keep the one they had. Besides, the Duke of Orleans did not
deserve to be preferred to Louis XVI. In either ease, to dispossess the
reigning King would have been to infringe acknowledged rights, and to send
to the emigrants a chief of inestimable value to them, since he would have
brought them titles which diey did not possess. On the contrary, to give
bt¥;k to Louis XVI. his authority, to restore to him as many of his preroga-
tives as they could, would be fullilling their constitutional task, and taking
away all pretext for civil war. In a word, it would be doing their duty ;
for the duty of the Assembly, according to all the engagements by which
it had bound itself, was to establish a free, but a monarciiical, govern-
ment.
The Assembly did not hesitate, but it had great obstacles to surmount. The
new term republic had piqued minds already somewhat tired of those of
monarchy and constitution. The absence and the suspension of the King
had, as we have seen, taught them to do without him. The journals and
the clubs instantly threw otf tlie respect which had hidierto been paid to his
person. His departure, which, according to the terms of the decree rela-
tive to the residence of public functionaries, rendered deposition imminent,
caused it to be asserted tliat he was deposed. Nevertheless, according to
the same decree, before he could incur the penalty of dethronement, he must
have left the kinsfdom and resisted die summons of the legislative bodv.
But these conditions were of litde consequence to overheated minds, and
they declared the King guilty and dethroned. The Jacobins and the Cor-
deliers were violently agitated, and could not conceive how it was that,
after people had got rid of the King, they could burden themselves witlihim
again, and that of their own accord. If the Duke of Orleans had ever enter-
tained hopes, it was now that they might have been awakened. But he
must have seen how litde influence his name possessed, and above all how
ill a new sovereign, however popular he might be, would harmonize widi the
state of people's minds. Some pamphleteers devoted to his interests, endea-
voured, perhaps without his knowledge, to place the crown on his head, as
Antony did by Caesar: they proposed to give him the regency, but he found
himself obliged to decline the olTer in a declaration, which was thougflit as
lightly of, as himself. "iVo KingP'' was the general cry at the Jacobins,
at the Cordeliers, in the streets, and in the public papers.
Numl)erless addresses were published. One of these was posted on all
the walls of Paris, and even on those of the Assembly. It was signed with
the name of Achille Duchatelet, a young colonel. He addressed himself to
the French: he reminded them of die tranquillity which had prevailed
during Uie journey of the king, and thence concluded Uiat his absence was
more beneficial than his presence: he added that his flight was an abdica-
tion; that the nation and Louis XVL were released from all engan-ements
towards one another; finally, that history was full of the crimes of Kings,
and diat the people ought to renounce all intention of giving themselves
another.
This address, attributed to young Duchatelet, was written by Thomas
Paine, an Englishman, and a principal actor in the American Revolution.*
* Thomas Paine was born in 1737, at ThetforJ, in Norfolk, where his father, a QuaUfr,
was a staymaker. He received his education at a grammar-school in his native place. In
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 189
It was denounced to the Assembly, which, after a warm debate, deemed it
right to pass to the order of the day, and to reply by indifference to advice
and to abuse, as it had hitherto invarial)ly done.
At length, the commissioners cliarged to make their report on the affair
of Varenncs presented it on the 16lh of July. In the journey, they said,
there was nothing culpable; and even if there were, the King Avas invio-
lable. Dethronement could not result from it, since the King had not staid
away long enough, and had not resisted the summons of the legislative
body.
Roliespicrre, T>uzot, and Petion, repeated all the well known argimients
against the inviolability. Duport, Barnavc, and ISalles, answered them, and
it was at length resolved that the King could not be brought to trial on
account of his flight. Two articles were merely added to the decree of
inviolal)ility. No sooner was this resolution passed than Robespierre rose,
and protested strongly against it, in tlienaine of humanity.
On the evening preceding this decision, a great tumult had taken place at
the .Tacobins. A petition to the Assembly was there drawn up, pravino" it
to declare that the King was deposed as a perfidious traitor to his oaths, and
that it would seek to supply his place by all the constitutional means. It
was resolved that this petition should he carried on the following day to the
Champ de ^lars, where every one might sign it on the altar of the country.
Next day, it was accordingly carried to the place agreed upon, and the
crowd of the seditious was reinforced by that of the curious, who wished to
be spectators of the event. At this moment the decree was passed, so that
it was now too late to petition. Lafayette arrived, broke down the barri-
cades already erected, was threatened and even fired at. but, tliouirh almost
close to the muzzle of the weapon, he escaped Mitlujut injury. The muni-
cipal officers having joined him, at length prevailed on the populace to retire.
National guards were posted to watch their retreat, and for a moment it
was hoped they would disperse. But the tumult was soon renewed. Two
invalids, who happened to be, nobody knows for what purpose, under the
•altar of the country, were murdered, and then the uproar became unbounded.
The Assembly sent for the municipality, and charged it to preserve public
order. Bailly repaired to the Cliamp de Mars, ordered the red flag to be
unfurled, and, by virtue of martial law, summoned the seditious to retire.
early life he followed his father's business, and afterwards herame a f^rorer and eyri«eman at
Lf'vvos, but was dismissed forkeopin;^ a tobarconist's shop, which was incompatible with his
duties. In 1774 he went to America, and became editor of the Pennsylvania Magazine.
Hostilities having commenced between Enfjland and the United States, he eom|)osed his
celebrated [)amphlet, • Common Sense,' which was written with great vii^our, and for which
the legislature of IVnnsylvania voted him five hundred pounds. He was soon afterwards
a[)[iointed clerk to the committee for foreign affairs; when he published a series of jiolitical
appeals, which he entitled the 'Crisis.' In 1787 he embarked for France, and, after visiting
Paris, went to England. On the appearance of ' Burke's Reflections on the French Kevolu-
tion,' he wrote his well known 'Rights of Man,' for which he was prosecuted.- but. while
the trial was pending, he was chosen mendier of the National Convention for the depart-
ment of Calais, and, making his escape, he set out for France. On the trial of Louis XVI.
he voted against the sentence of death, which oiVended the .Tacobins, who in 17!'3 ordered
him to be committed to the Luxembourg. Just previous to his confinement he had linished his
'Age of Reason;' whidi, when published, lost him the greater part of his American con-
nexions. On the fall of'Ixobespierre he was released, and remained in France till 1S02, when
he endiarked again for America. His subsequent life was by no means happy; for, though
j)ossessed of a decent competence, yet his attacks on religion, and his habitual intemperance,
had greatly narrowed the circle of his friends. He died in 1S09, in his sevcnty-thiril year."
Encyclopscdia Americana, E.
190 HISTORY OF THE
This summons, whatever has been said of it, was just. People eitlier
agreed or did not agree to the new laws. If ihey agreed to them, it was
requisite that they should be executed, that there should he something lixed,
that insurrection should not be perpetual, and that the will of the Assembly
should not be modified by the decisions of the mob. It was Bailly's duty,
therefore, to carry the law into execution. He advanced, with that unslirink-
ing courage which he had always displayed, was fired at several times with-
out being hit, and at lengtli read the customary summons. Lafayette at first
ordered a few shots to be fired in the air : the crowd quitted the altar of the
country, but soon rallied. Thus driven to extremity, he gave the word,
Fire! The first discharge killed some of ihe rioters. Their number has
been exaggerated. Some have reduced it to thirty, others have raised it to
four hundred, and others to several thousand. The last statement was
believed at the moment, and the consternation became general. This severe
example quieted the agitators for a short time. As usual all the parties
were accused of having excited the commotion, and it is probable that seve-
ral of them had a hand in it, for to several tumult was desirable. The King,
the majority of the Assembly, the national guac^the municipal and depart-
mental authorities, Avere then unanimous for the establishment of constitu-
tional order; but thev had to combat the democracy at home, and the
aristocracy abroad. The Assembly and the national guard composed that
middle class, wealthy, intelligent, and prudent, which wished well to order
and the laws; and they could not at the moment but naturally ally them-
selves with the King, who, for his part, seemed to resign himself to a limited
power. But, if it suited them to stop at the point at which they had arrived,
it did not suit either the aristocracy, which desired a convulsion, or the
people, who sought to gain and to raise themselves still more. Barnave
was, as Mirabean had been before him, the mouthpiece of this wise and
moderate middle class; and Lafayette was its military chief. Danton and
Camille Desmonlins* were the spokesmen, and Santerre the general, of the
rabble, that wished to reign in its turn. A few ardent or fanatic spirits
represented this rabble either in the Assembly or in the new administrations,
and hastened its rule by their declamations.
* "B. Camille Desmoulins. a lawyer, born at Guise, in Picardy, in 1762, was the son of
the lieutcnant-c^eneral of the bailiwick of Guise. His appearance was vulfrar, his complexion
swarthy, and his looks unprepossessing. He made his first appearance at the bar to plead
against his own father, whom he wanted to make him a greater allowance than he could
afford. At the very commencement of the Revolution he formed an intimate acquaintance
with Robespierre. In July, 1789, he harangued a large mob in the Palais Royal with a
brace of pistols in his hand, and assumed the appellation of attorney-general of the lamp-post.
In 1792 he was appointed secretary to Danton, and organized with him the Septemlier mas-
sacres. He asserted frequently that society consisted of two classes of men — gentlemen and
sans-culottes ; and that, in order to save the republic, it was necessary to take the purses of
the one, and put arms into the hands of the other. His connexion with Danton was his
ruin ; and his sentence of death, the word 'clemency,' which he recommended in his journal
of the ' Old Cordelier.' He was arrested in 1794, and, during his imprisonment he gave
himself up alternately to rage and despair. His favourite studies were the works of Young
and Hervey. When led to execution, at the age of tiiirty-three, he made the most violent
efforts to avoid getting into the cart. His shirt was in talters, and his shoulders bare; his
eyes glared, and he foamed at the month, crying out while he ascended the scaffold, 'This,
then, is the reward reserved for the first apostle of lilierty ! The monsters who assassinate
me will not survive me long.' His wife, whom he adored, and by whom he was as warmly
beloved, beautiful, courageous, and sensiltle, begged to share his fate, and ten days afterwards,
Robespierre sent her to the scaffold, where she exhibited much more firmness than her hus-
band." Biographic Moderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTIOX. 191
Lafayette and Bailly were vehemently reproached for the proceedings in
tlie Champ de Mars; but both of tlicm, considering it tlieir duty to oltserve
the law, and to risk popularity and life in its execution, felt neitlier regret,
nor fear, for Avhat they had done.* The Mictions were overawed by the
energy which they displayed. Tiie most conspicuous began already to think
of recoiling from the blows Aviiich they conceived to be aimed at them.
RoI)espierre, whom we have hitherto seen suppordng the most extravagant
propositions, trembled in his obscure habitation; and, notwithstanding his
inviolability as a deputy, applied to all his friends for an asylum. Thus the
example had the desired etlect, and for a moment all the turbulent spirits
were quieted by fear.
About this time the Assemlily came to a determination which has since
been censured, but the result of whic;h did not prove so mischievous as it
has been supposed. It decreed that none of its members should be re-elected.
Robespierre was the proposer of this resolution, and it was attributed to the
envy which he felt against his colleagues, among whom he had not shone.
It was at least natural that he should b(>ar them a grudge, having always
been opposed by them : and in his sentiments there might have been at once
conviction, envy, and hatred. The Assemldy, which was accvised of a de-
sign to perpetuate its powers, and which, moreover, displeased the rabble by
its moderation, was anxious to reply to all censures by a disinterestedness
that was perhaps exaggerated ; and it decreed tliat its members should be
excluded from the next legislature. Tlie new Assembly was thus deprived
of men whose enthusiasm was somewhat abated, and whose legislative
science was matured by an experience of three years. However, when we
see by and by the cause of tlie subsequent revolutions, we shall be able to
judge wliat was the importance of that measure which has been so frequently
condemned.
This was the moment for completing the constitutional labours of the
Assembly, and for bringing its stormy career to a calm conclusion. The
members of the left side intended, by means of an agreement among them-
selves, to amend certain parts of the constitution. It had been resolved that
it should be read throughout, in order to judge of the whole together, and to
have an opportunity of making its different parts harmonize. This was
called the revision, which Avas afterwards, in the days of the republican fer-
vour, considered as most calamitous. IJarnave and the Lametlis had agreed
with Malouet to modify certain articles, which trenched upon the royal pre-
rogative and what was termed the stability of the throne. It was even said
that the plan was to re-establish the two chambers. It was arranged that,
the moment the readini was finished, Malouet should make his attack; that
Carnave sjioidd then reply with vehemence, in order the better to disguise
his intentions ; but that, in defending most of the articles, he should give up
some as evidently dangerous, and condemned by known experience.
Such were the conditions agreed upon wlien the ridiculous and dangerous
protests of the right side, which had resolved to vote no more, transpired.
Accommodation then became impossible. The left side would bear no
more, and, when the concerted attempt was made, the cries which burst from
• " Bailly did i#it spok the Rcvplulion, l>ut it soui^ht liim, liy making him play a political
part ajTairist liis will ; ¥ul from the niomctit tiiat he coiiccivcd lie might he useful to his
country, he would not refuse to serve it. He devoted to it momenta most valuahle lor science ;
and when we deplored the suspension of his labours, he said to us, ' I am a Frenchman, and
if I can co-operate in the enactment of a good law, that is preferable to a hundrrd astrono-
mical calculations.' " — Memoirs of a Peer of France, E.
192 HISTORY OF THE
all quarters, prevented Malouet and his partisans from proceeding.* The
constitution was therefore completed witli some haste, and submitted to the
Kino; for his acceptance. From that moment his freedom was restored to
him; or, if that expression be objected to, the strict watch kept over the
* Bouille had an intimate friend in Count de Gouvernet ; and, though they differed widely
in their opinions, each entertained a hi^h esteem for the other. Bouille, who does not spare
the constitutionahste, expresses himself in the most honourable manner towards M. de (iou-
vernet, and seems to place the utmost confidence in him. To give in his Memoirs an idea
of what was passing in the Assembly at this period, he quotes the following letter, addressed
to him by Count de Gouvernet on the 26th of Aui,'ust, 1791 :
" I have held out hopes to you which I no longer entertain. That fatal constitution, which
was to be revised and amended, will not be touched. It will remain what it is — a code of
anarchy, a source of calamities ; and, owing to our unlucky staf, at the moment when the
democrats themselves begin to be sensible of some of their errors, it is the aristocrats, who, by
refusing their support, oppose their reparation. In order to enlighten you and to justity
myself for having perhaps imparted to you a fdse hope, I must go back a little in my account
of things, and tell you all that has passed, since I have to-day a safe opportunity of writing
to you.
" On the day of the King's departure, and the following day, the two sides of the Assembly
were closely watching each other's movements. The po|)ular party was in great consterna-
tion ; the royalist parly extremely uneasy. The least indiscretion would have been liable to
awaken the fury of the people. All the members of the right side were silent, and those of
the other left their leaders to propose measures, which they called measures oi safety, and
which were not opposed by any one. On the second day after the King's departure, the
Jacobins became menacing, and the constitutionalists moderate. They were then and they
still are much more numerous than the Jacobins. They talked of accommodation, of a depu-
tation to the King. Two of them proposed to M. Malouet conferences which were to be
opened the following day ; hut news arrived of the King's apprehension, and then no further
mention was made of them. Their opinions, however, having been manifested, they found
themselves, from that very circumstance, separated more than ever from the furious. The
return of Barnave, the respect which he had paid to the King and Queen, while the ferocious
Petion insulted their misfirtunes, and the gratitude which their majesties testified to Barnave,
have irt some measure changed the heart of that young man, which till then knew no pity.
He is, as you know, the ablest and one of the most influential of his party. He had, there-
fore, rallied around him four-fifths of the left side, not only to save the King from the fury of
the Jacobins, but to restore to him part of his authority, and to furnish him also with the
means of defending himself in future, by keeping in the constitutional line. In regard to the
latLi^r part of Barnave's plan, noliody was in the secret but Lamelh and Duport ; for the
constitutional crowd still gave them so much uneasiness that they could not reckon upon a
majority of the Assembly, without including the right side; and they conceive that they
might rely upon it, when, in revising their constitution, they should give greater latitude to
the royal authority.
"Such was the state of things when I wrote to you. But convinced as I was of the
awkwardness of the aristocrats and their continual blunders, I was not aware how far they
could go.
" When the news of the King's apprehension at Varennes arrived, the right side, in the
secret committees, determined to vote no more, and to take no further part in the deliberations
or the discussions of the Assembly. Malouet disapproved this course. He represented to
them that, whilst the session lasted and they attended it, they were bound to make an active
opposition to measures injurious to public order and to the fundamental principles of the
monarchy. All his remonstrances were useless; they persisted in their resolution, and
secretly drew up a protest against all that was doing. Malouet declared that he would con-
tinue to protest in the tribune, and to make ostensibly all possible efforts to prevent the evil.
He told me that he had not been able to bring over to his opinion more than thirty-five or
forty members of the right side, and that he much feared that this false step of the most zeal-
ous royalists would be productive of mischievous consequences.
"The general dispositions of the Assembly were then so favourable '^o the King, that,
while be was coming back to Paris, Thouret, having ascended the tribune to determine the
manner in which the King should be guarded (I was at the sitting), the utmost silence pre-
vailed in the hall and in the g:dleri.»s. Almost all the deputies, even of the left side, looked
confounded, during the reading of that fatal decree, but no one spoke. The president was
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 193
palace ceased, and he liad liberty to retire whithersoever he pleased, to ex-
amine the constitutional act and to accept it freely. What was Louis XVI.
to do in this case ? To reject the constitution would have been to abdicate
in favour of a republic. The safest way, even according to his own system,
was to accept it, and to expect from time those restitutions of power which
he considered as due to him. Accordingly, after a certain number of days,
he declared that he accepted the constitution. An extraordinary jov burst
forth at this intelligence, as if in fact some obstacle had been anticipated on
the part of the King, and his assent had been an unhoped-for concession.
He repaired to the Assembly, where he was received as in the most brilliant
times. Lafayette, who never forgot to repair the inevitable evils of political
troubles, proposed a general amnesty for all acts connected with the Revolu-
tion, wliif'h was proclaimed amidst shouts of joy, and the prisons were
instantly thrown open. At length, on tlie 3()th of September, Thouret, the
last president, declared that the Constituent Assembly had terminated its
sittings.
going to put it to the vote, when Malouet abruptly rose, and with indignant look, exclaimed.
* Whiit are you about, gentlemen ] After apprehemling the King, it is |)ro|)o.scd that you
should constitute him prisoner by a decree. Whither will this step lead you 1 Have you
considered that 1 Would you order the King to be imprisoned V — ' No ! No !' cried several
members oF tlie left side, rising tuinultuously ; ' we mean not that the King should be a pri-
soner ;' and the decree was on the point of being rejected almost unanimously, when Thouret
hastily added ; — 'The last speaker has not justly comprehended the terms and the object of
the decree. We have no intention, any more than he, to imprison the King; it is for his
safety and that of the royal family that we propose these measures.' And it was not till after
this explan;ilion that the decree [lassed, though the imprisonment became an absolute reality,
and is continued to this day without shame.
" At the end of July, the constitutionalists, who suspected the protest of the right side,
without having any certainty of it, proceeded leisurely with their plan of revision. 'J'hey
dreaded the Jacobins and the aristocrats more than ever. Malouet went to their committee
of revision. He at first addressed them as men who had nothing to learn respecting the
dangers and the faults of their constitution ; but he found them less disposed in favour of
great reforms. Tliey weie afraid of losing their popularity. Target and Duport opposed hia
arguments, and defended their work. Ne t day he met Chapelier and Barnave, who at first
disdainfully refused to answer his provocations, and at length agreed to the plan of attack, all
the risks of which he was ready to incur. He proposed to discuss, in the silting of the 8th,
all the principal points of the constitutional act and to point out all its vices. ' You, gentle-
men,' said he, ' answer me. Overwhelm mo unanimously with your indignation. l>pfend
your work with advantage on the least dangerous articles, even on the plurality of the pointj!,
against which my censure will be levelled ; and as for those which I shall characterize as
anti-monarchical, as preventing the action of the government, say that neither the Assembly
nor the committee needed my remarks on that head ; that you intend to propose their reform ;
and forthwith pro|)ose it. Be assured that it is our only resource for ui)liolding the monarchy,
and for returning in time to give all the support that is necessary for it.' This was accord-
ingly agreed u[)on : but, the protest of the right side having become known, and its persever-
ance in not voting hav||g deprived the constitutionalists of all hope of succeeding in their
plan of revision, which the Jacobins o|iposed with all their might, they gave it up. Malouet,
who had no regular communications with them, nevertheless made his attack. He solemidy
rejected the constitutional act as anti-monarchical, and as impracticable of execution in
several points. The development of his motives had begun to produce a considerable im-
pression, when Chapelier, who had no further hope from the execution of the as^reemcnt,
broke it, crying blasphemy, interrupting the sjieaker, and requiring that he should be ordered
to leave the tribune: which was accordingly done. Next day he acknowledged that he was
in the wrong ; hut he said that he and his partisans had lost all hope, from the moment when
they had no further aid to expect from the right side.
'• I was obliged to relate to you this long history lest you should lose all confidence in my
prognostics. 'J'hey are gloomy, now : the evil is extreme ; and to repair it, I perceive, either
within or without, but one remedy, which is the union of force with reason." — Memoires de
Botiille, J). 288, et seq.
VOL. I. — 25 R
194 HISTORY OF THE
THE NATIONAL LEGISLATIVE ASSEMBLY.
The Constituent Assembly had now terminated its long- and laborious
career ; and, notwithstanding its noble courage, its perfect equity, and its
immense toils, it was hated as revolutionary at Coblentz, and as aristocratic
at Paris. In order to form a proper judgment of this memorable Assembly,
which combined talents so great and so diversified, the resolutions of Avhich
were so bold and so persevering, and in which were seen, perhaps for the
first time, all the enlightened men of a nation assembled witli the will and
the power to realize the wishes of philosophy, we must consider the state
in which it had found France, and that in which it left her.
In 1789 the French nation knew and felt all the evils it suffered under,
but it did not conceive the possibility of curing them. All at once, on the
unforeseen demand of the parliaments, the States-general were convoked,
the Constituent Assembly was formed and came into the presence of the
throne, proud of its ancient power, and disposed at most to put up with a
few complaints. Thoroughly impressed with its rights, it then declared
itself to i)e the nation, and dared to declare this to the astonished govern-
ment. Threatened by the aristocracy, by the court, and by an army, not
yet foreseeing the popular commotions, it declared itself inviolable, and
forbade power to touch it. Convinced of its rights, it addressed itself to
enemies who were not convinced of theirs, and, by the mere expression
of its determination, gained the ascendancy over a power of several centu-
ries, and an army of thirty thousand men. Such was the Revolution. Such
was its first and noblest act. It was just — it was heroic ; for never did
nation act with greater propriety, or amid greater dangers.
Power being vanquished, it became necessary to reconstitute it in a just
and suitable manner. But, at the sight of that social ladder, on the summit
of which there is a superabundance of everything — power, honours, wealth ;
whilst at the bottom everything is wanting, even to the bread that is indis-
pensable for life — the Constituent Assembly experienced a violent reaction
in its ideas, and was for reducing all to one level. It decided, therefore,
that the mass of the citizens, placed on a complete equality, should express
their will, and that the King should be charged only with its execution.
Its error here consists, not in having reduced royalty to a mere magis-
tracy, for the King had still sufficient power to uphold the laws, and more
than magistrates possess in republics, but in having imagined that a King,
with the recollection of what he had been, could resign himself to be what
he was ; and that a nation, scarcely awakened, which had recovered part
of the popular power, would not determine to conquer it entirely.
History proves, in fact, that it is necessary to divide magistracies to
infinity, or that, if a single chief be appointed, he must be so Avell endowed
as to have no temptation to usurp.
When nations, engrossed by their private interests, find it necessary to
transfer the cares of government to a chief, thev do riffht to give them-
selves one ; but, in this case, that chief must, like the kings of England,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 195
u
possess in reality the greatest part of the sovereignty, and the power of
convoking and dissolving the national assemblies, without being compelled
to obey their mandates, sanctioning them only when he thinks lit, and being
prevented only from doing what is mischievous. The dignity of man can
still be preserved under such a government, when the law is stricdy ob-
served, when every citizen feels his own value, and knows that powers so
extensive left to the prince have only been granted as a concession to human
weakness.
But it is not at the moment when a nation suddenly bethinks itself of its
rights that it can renounce all its prerogatives, submit to take a secondary
part, and yield the supreme power to a chief, lest he should feel an inclina-
tion to usurp it. The Constituent Assembly was equally incapable with
the nation itself of consenting to such an abdication. It reduced the King,
therefore, to a mere hereditary magistrate, hoping that the nation would
leave him that, and that he would himi-elf be content with this magistracy,
still resplendent with honours, wealth, and power.
But, whether the Assembly hoped this or not, could it in such a state of
uncertainty, evade the question ? Could it abolish royalty, or could it con-
fer on it all the power that England grants to her monarchs ?
It could not, on the one hand, depose Louis XVI.; for, if it is always
necessary to introduce a spirit of justice into a government, it is not so to
change its form, when that spirit exists in it, and suddenly to convert a mo-
narchy into a republic. Moreover, possession carries with it authority, and
if the Assembly had despoiled the reigning dynasty, what would not its
enemies have said, who accused it of violating property because it attacked
feudal rights ?
On the other hand, it could not confer on the King the absolute veto, the
appointment of the judges, and other similar prerogatives, because public
opinion was adverse to such concessions ; and, as this opinion constituted
its only strength, the Assembly was obliged to defer to it.
With regard to the establishment of a single chamlier, its error was, per-
haps, more real, but just as inevitable. If it was dangerous to leave nothing
but the remembrance of power to a king who had possessed it entire, while
legislating for a people desirous of Avresting from him the last remnant of
it; much more false was it in principle not to recognise social inequalities
and gradations, when they are admitted by republics themselves, and when
in all of them there is a senate eidier hereditary or elective. But we must
not require of men and minds more than they are capable of at the time.
How can the necessity of ranks be recognised at the moment of a revolt
against their injustice? How is it possible to constitute an aristocracy at
the moment when war is proclaimed against aristocracy ? To constitute
royalty would have been an easier task, because, placed apart from tlie peo-
ple, it would have been less oppressive, and because it moreover performs
functions which seetn more necessary.
But, I repeat it, if these errors had not existed in the Assembly, they ex-
isted in the nation ; and the course of events will prove that, if the Assem-
bly had left the King and the aristocracy all the powers which it did not
leave them, the Revolution would, nevertheless, have taken place, even to
its greatest excesses.
To be convince(^of this, we must make a distinction between the revolu-
tions which have taken place among nations Ion? in a state of subjection,
and those which have taken place amonff free people, that is to say, people
in possession of a certain political activity. At Rome, at Athens, and else-
196 HISTORY OF THE
where, we see the people and their chiefs disputing for the greater or less
share of authority. Among modern nations entirely stripped of it, the
course is different. Completely subjected, their slumber is long. The
more enliglitened classes are the first to awake. Tlrese rouse themselves
and recover a portion of poAver. The awakening is progressive. Ambition
is progressive too, and keeps spreading to the lowest classes, till the whole
mass is in motion. Presently, satisfied with what they have obtained, the
eniighted classes wish to stop ; but they can no longer do so, and are inces-
santly pushed forward by tliose behind them. Those who stop, were they
in the very last rank but one, if they pretend to oppose the last, are to it an
aristocracy, and are stigmatized with the name. The mere tradesman is
called aristocrat by the artisan, and hated as such.
The Constituent Assembly represented that class which first awakes and
cries out against power while yet all-powerful. Sagacious enough to per-
ceive what was due to those who had everything and to those who had no-
thing, it wished to leave the former part of wb.at they possessed, because
they had always possessed it, and to procure for the latter, above all things,
knowledge, and the rights which it confers. But regret sways the one, am-
bition the other. Regret wishes to recover all, ambition to conquer all, and
a war of extermination commences. The constituents then, are those first
good men, who, shaking off slavery, attempt to establish a just system, try it
without apprehension, nay, accomplish this immense task, but fail in endea-
vouring to persuade the one to yield something, the other not to grasp at
everything.
The Constituent Assembly, in its equitable allotments, had shown for-
bearance towards the former possessors of power. Louis XVI., with the
title of King of the French, an income of thirty millions, the command of
the armies, and the right of suspending tlie national decrees, still possessed
extensive prerogatives. The recollection of absolute power alone can
excuse him for not having been content with so brilliant a remnant of abso-
lute power.
The clergy, stripped of the immense possessions which had formerly
been given to it, on condition of relieving the poor whom it did not relieve,
and of performing that divine worship which it left to be performed by poor
curates, was no longer a political order. But its ecclesiastical dignities
were preserved, its dogmas respected, its scandalous wealth changed into a
sufficient, nay, we may say, an abundant revenue, for it still possessed con-
siderable episcopal luxury. The nobility was no longer an order ; it no
longer possessed the exclusive right of killing game and the like ; it was no
longer exempt from taxes ; but could it make these things a subject of rea-
sonable regret? Its immense possessions were left to it. Instead of the
favour of the court, it had a certainty of the distinctions conferred on merit.
It had the privilege of being elected by the people, and of representing it
in the state, if it could but show the slightest good-will and resignation.
The robe and the sword were insured to its talents : why then was it not
all at once inspired with a generous emulation ? What an avowal of inca-
pacity did it not make in regretting the favours of former times !
The old pensioners had been spared ; the ecclesiastics had received in-
demnities ; every one had been treated with indulgence : was then the lot
which the Constituent Assembly had assigned to all so intolerable ?
The constitution being completed, the King had no hope left of recover-
ing, by means of the legislation, the prerogatives which he regretted. He
had but one course to pursue, to be resigned and to uphold the constitution,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 197
unless he reckoned upon the foreign powers. But he hoped very little from
their zeal, and distrusted the emigrants. He decided, therefore, in favour
of the former line of conduct, and what proves his sincerity is, that he
meant frankly to point out to the Assembly the defects which he found in the
constitution. But he was dissuaded from doing so, and he resolved to trust
to time for those restitutions of power wliich he deemed his due. The
Queen was not less resigned. " Courage !" said she to Bertrand, the minis-
ter, who waited upon her, " all is not yet lost. The King is determined
to adhere to the constitution : that course is certainly the best." And
there is every reason to believe that, if she had had other thoughts to utter,
she would not have hesitated to express them before BertrSnd de MoUe-
ville.*
The old Assembly had broken up. Its members had returned to the
• This minister has given such an account of the dispositions of the King and Queen, at
the comrnencenient of the first legislature, as leaves but little doubt of their sincent}'. He
relates the first interview with these august personages as follows :
" After replying to some general observations whiih I had made on the difficulty of cir-
cumstances and on the numberless faults which I was liable to commit in a department with
which I was unacquainted, the King said to me, ' Well, have you still any objcclion !' — 'No,
sire ; the wish to please and to obey your majesty is the only sentiment that I feel ; but, to
know if I can flatter myself with the prospect of serving you usefully, it would be necessary
that you should let me know what is your plan relative to the constitution, and what the line
of conduct which you wish your ministers to pursue.' — ' Very true,' replied the King, ' I
consider that constitution as by no means a masterpiece ; in my opinion it has very great
defects, and if I had been at liberty to address some observations to the Assembly, very
beneficial reforms might have resulted from them ; but now it is too late, and I have accepted
it such as it is. I have sworn to cause it to be executed, and I ought and will be strictly faith-
ful to my oath ; and the more so, as I believe the most rigorous execution of the constitution
to be the surest means of making the nation acquainted with it, and rendering it sensible of
the changes that it would be well to introduce in it. I have not, neither can I have, any other
plan than this ; I will assuredly not deviate from it, and it is my wish that the ministers
should conform to it.' — ' This plan, sire, appears to me infinitely prudent: I feel myself capa-
ble of following it, and I engage to do so. I have not sufficiently studied the new constitu-
tion either as a whole, or in its details, to have a decided opinion u|)on it, and I will abstain
from adopting one, be it what it may, before its execution has enabled the nation to appre-
ciate it by its efi'ects. But, may I be permitted to ask your majesty if the Queen's opinion
on this point agrees with the King's]' — ' Yes, precisely ; she will tell you so herself.'
" I went down stairs to the Queen, who, after declaring with extreme kindness that she
felt under as much obligation to me as the King, for having accepted the ministry under
such critical circumstances, added these words : 'The King has acquainted you with his
intentions relative to the constitution ; do you think that the only plan he has to follow is
to adhere to his oath V — ' Most certainly, madam.' — ' Well, be assured that nothing shall
induce us to change. Come, M. Bertrand. courage ! I hope that with patience, firmness,
and perseverance, all is not yet lost.' " — Bertrand (Je MoUeville, tome vi., p. 2'2.
The testimony of M. Bertrand is corroborated by that of Madame Campan, which, though
sometimes suspicious, has on this occasion very much the air of truth.
" The constitution had been, as I have said, [iresented to the King on the 3d of September;
I recur to this presentation because it furnished a very imjiortant subject of deliberation. All
the ministers, except M. de Montmorin, insinted on the necessity of accepting the constitu-
tional act in its entire state. Such, too, was the* opinion of the Prince de Kaunitz. Malouet
wished that the King would frankly point out the vices and dangers which he discovered in
the constitution. But Duport and Barnave, alarmed at the sj)irit which prevailed in the
association of the Jacobins, and even in the Assembly, where Robespie.re had already de-
nounced them as traitors to the country, and apprehensive of great calamities, agreed in
opinion with the maj<^rity of the ministers and M. de Kaunitz. ^J'hose who sincerely wished
to uphold the constitution, advised that it should not be accepted purely and simply : of this
number were, as I have mentioned, Messrs. Montmorin and Malouet. The King appeared
to like their advice ; and this is one of the strongest proofs of the sincerity of the unfortu
nate monarch." — Memoires de Madame Campan, tome iL, p. 161.
k2
198 HISTORY OF THE
bosom of their families, or were scattered througliout Paris, Some of tlie
most conspicuous, such as Lametli, Duport, Barnave, communicated with
the court, and gave it their advice. But the King, resolved as he was to
observe the constitution, could not make up his mind to follow the advice
that he received ; for not only was it recommended to him not to violate
that constitution, but by all his acts to induce the belief that he was sin-
cerely attached to it. These members of the late Assembly, joined by
Lafayette since the revision, were the chiefs of that first revolutionary
generation, which had laid down the first rules of liberty, and desired that
they should be adhered to. They were supported by the national guard,
whom long service under Lafayette had strongly attached to him and to his
principles. The constituents then fell into an error — that of disdaining the
new Assembly, and frequently irritating it by their contempt. A sort of
aristocratic vanity had already seized these first legislators ; and it seemed
as though all legislative science had disappeared along with them.
The new Assembly was composed of dilTerent classes of men. It in-
cluded enlightened partisans of the first Revolution : Ramond, Girardin,
Vaublanc, Dumas, and others, who called themselves constitutionalists, and
occupied tlie right side, where not one of the late privileged class was to
be found. Thus, by the natural and progressive march of the Revolution,
the left side of the first Assembly was destined to become the right of the
second. Next to the constitutionalists came many distinguished men, whose
heads were heated, and whose expectations were exaggerated by the Re-
volution. Witnesses of the labours of the Constituent Assembly, and im-
patient as lookers-on, they were of opinion that enough had not yet been
done. They durst not avow themselves republicans, because, on all sides,
people mutually exhorted one another to be faithful to the constitution ; but
the experiment of a republic which had been made during the journey of
Louis XVL, and the suspicious intentions of the court, were incessantly
leading their minds back to that idea ; and they could not but attach them-
selves to it more and more from their continual hostilities with the govern-
ment.
Among this new generation of talents, the most remarkable were the
deputies of La Gironde, from whom the whole party, though composed of
men from all the departments, derived the name of Girondins. Condorcet,*
* " Marie Jean Nicholas Caritat, Marquis de Condorcet, was born in 1743. His was one
of the oldest families in Dauphine. He was educated in the coileffe of Navarre, at Paris,
and from early youth devoted himself to the study of the exact sciences. The Duke of
Eochefoucault was his patron; and introduced him into the world at the age of nineteen.
With astonishing facility Condorcet treated the most difficult problems in mathematics, and
gained such celebrity as a man of science, that, in 1777, he was made secretary to the Aca-
demy of Sciences. He contributed several articles to the ' Encyclopedia,' and was intimate
with most of the writers of that great work. Under a cold exterior, Condorcet concealed
the most violent passions. D'Alembert compared him to a volcano covered with snow. On
the intelligence of the King's flight, he defined the royal dignity as an anti-social insti-
tution. In 1792 he was appointed President of the Assembly, and composed the proclama-
tion addressed to the French and to Europe, which announced the abolition of royalty. On
the trial of Louis he voted for the severest sentence not capital : at the same time he voted
for the abolition of capital punishments, except in crimes against the state. In 1793 he was
accused of being an accomiilice with Brissot, and, to save his life, concealed himself in the
house of Madame Verney, where he remained eight months, during which period, though
in constant fear of discovery, he wrote one of his best philosophical treatises. Having"at
length learned that death was denounced against all who harboured a proscribed imiividual,
he left his generous hostess, and fled in disguise from Paris. He wandered about for some
time, until, driven by hunger, he entered a small inn at Clamar, where he was arrested as a
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 199
a writer celebrated for tlie comprehensiveness of his ideas, and for an ex-
treme austerity of mind and eiuiracler, was its writer; and Vergniaud,* a
pure and persuasive extempore speaker, was its orator. Tiiis party, in-
creased continually by all who despaired of the court, did not want such a
republic as fell to it in 1793. It dreamt of one with all its fascinations^
with its severe virtues and manners. Enthusiasm and vehemence were of
course its principal characteristics.
Such a party could not but have its extremes. There were Bazire, iNIerlin
de Thionville, and others ; who, though its inferiors in talent, were its
superiors in bohhiess. They became the party of the Mountain, when,
after the overtlirow of tlie throne, they separated from the Girondins. This
second Assembly had also, like the first, a middle mass, which, without
being bound to any party, voted first with the one and then with the other.
Under the Constituent Assemlily, when real liberty still prevailed, this mass
liad remained independent ; but, as it was not so from energy but from in-
dill'frence, in the sul)sequent Assemblies, and during the reign of violence,
it became cowardly and contemptible, and received the trivial and igno-
minious name of bclhi [ventre).
The clubs gained at tliis period a very difi'erent kind of importance.
Agitators under the Constituent, they became rulers under the Legislative,
Assembly. The National Assembly could not contain all tlie ambitious;
they l)elook themselves therefore to the clul)s, where they found a theatre
for their declamation and passions. Thither resorted all who longed to
speak, to take an active part, to agitate themselves, that is to say, almost
the whole nation. The people ran to this new sight : they filled the tribunes
of all the Assemblies, and there found, iVom this time forward, a lucrative
employment, for they began to be paid for their applause. Bertrand, the
minister, confesses that he paid them himself.
'J'lie oldest of the clubs, that of the Jacobins, had acquired extraordinary
importance. A church was scarcely sufficient to hold the crowd of its
members and auditors. An immense amphitheatre rose in the form of a
circus and occupied the whole great nave of the church of the Jacobins. A
desk was placed in the centre, at which sat the president and the secretaries.
Here the votes were collected, and here reports of the deliberations were
entered in a register. An active corresj)ondcnce kept up the zeal of the
societies whicli were scattered over the entire surface of France, and were
called afiiliated societies. This club, from its seniority and persevering
violence, had constantly maintained an ascendancy over all those that liad
su.>i)ic'ious person, and thrown into prison. On the following morning. March 28, 1704, he
was found dead on the floor of iiis room, having afiparcntly swallowed poison, which he
always carried about hiin, an<i which nothing but his love for his wife and daughter pre-
vented him using before." — Enci/cfopfvdia Americmui. E.
* " Vergniaud was the most elo(}uent speaker of the (Jironde, but he had not the vigour
requisite for the leader of a party in tmuhlcd times. Passion, in general, had little influence
over his mind. He was humane, gentle, and benevolent; difficult to rouse to exertion, and
still more to be convinced of the wickedness, either of his adversaries or a large jiart of his
supporters. But when great occasions arose, he poured forth his generous thoughts in
streams of eloquence which never have been ecjualled in the French Assembly. It was not
like that of Mirabeau, broken and emphatic, but uniformly elegant, sonorous, and flowing,
swelling at times into the highest strains of impassioned oratory, (iaudet was more ani-
mated than Vergniaud ; but Gensonne, with inferior talents for speaking, was nevertheless
looked up to as a leader of his parly, from his firmness and resolution of character. Barba-
roux, a native of the south of France, brought to the^trife of tactii)n the ardent tenipera-
ment of his sunny climate. He was rcsoliUe, sagacious, and daring, and early divined the
bloody designs of the Jacobins." — Alison. E.
200 HISTORY OF THE
desired to show themselves more moderate or even more vehement. After
the journey to Varennes, the Lameths, with all its most distinguished mem-
bers, left it and joined the Feuillans. In this latter were blended all the
attempts at moderate clubs, attempts which had never succeeded, because
they ran counter to tlie feeling which caused people to frequent the clubs—
the desire of agitation. It was at the Feuillans that tlie constitutionalists,
or partisans of the first Revolution, now met. Hence the name of Feuillant
became a ground of proscription, when thai, of moderate was unpopular.
Another club, that of the Cordeliers, endeavoured to rival in violence
that of the Jacobins. Camille Desmoulins was its secretary, and Dantcn
its president. The latter, who had not been successful at the bar, had
gained the adoration of the multitude, which he powerfully excited, by his
athletic figure, his sonorous voice, and his popular passions. The Cordeliers
however were not able, even with the aid of exaggeration, to eclipse their
rivals, to whom habit brought a concourse of auditors. But almost all of
them belonged to the Jacobin club, and wlien occasion required, they re-
paired thither in the train of Danton, to swell the majority in his favour.
Robespierre, whom we have seen, in the time of the Constituent Assem-
bly, distinguishing himself by the severity of his principles, was excluded
from the Legislative Assembly by the decree of non-re-election, to the pass-
ing of which he had himself contributed. He had intrenched himself at
the Jacobins, where he ruled without partner, by the dogmatism of his
opinions and by a reputation for integrity wliich had gained him the epithet
of incorruptible. Panic struck, as we have seen, at the moment of the
revision, he had since taken courage, and continued the work of his popu-
larity. Robespierre had found two rivals whom he began to hate — Brissot*
and Louvet.f Brissot, mixed up with all the men of the first Assembly, a
* "The principal leader of the Gironde was Brissot, who had been a member of the mu-
nicipality of Paris during the preceding session, and now belonged to the Assembly. The
opinions of Brissot, who wished for a complete reform ; his great activity of mind, which
exerted itself by turns in the journal called the ' Patriot,' in the rostrum of the Assembly,
and at the club of the Jacobins ; and his accurate and extensive acquaintance with the
situations of foreign powers, combined to give him great influence at a moment when
France was distracted with the strife of parties." — Mignef.
"Brissot de Warville was born in 1754, at a village near Chartres. His father kept a
cook's shop, which occasioned the saying that the son had all the heat of his father's
stoves. After passing four years in an attorney's oflice, he turned author, and, at twenty
years of age, had already published several works, one of which occasioned his imprison-
ment in the Bastille in 1784. He married a person attached to the household of Madame
d'Orleans, and afterwards went to England. He lived there on pay as a spy from the lieu-
tenant of police at Paris. At the same time he employed himself in literature, and en-
deavoured to form an academy in London ; but, this speculation proving unsuccessful, he
returned to France, and distinguished himself greatly during the Revolution. At the time
of the trial of Louis XVI. he strove to bring the subject of his condemnation before the
people, and afterwards voted fi)r his death, though he was anxious to obtain a reprieve.
Being denounced, together with the rest of the Girondins, by the Jacobins, he was guillo-
tined in 1793. Brissot was thirty-nine years of age, of middle stature, slightly formed, and
pale. He was so passionate an admirer of the Americans, that he adofjted the appearance
of a Quaker, and was pleased to be mistaken for one." — Biographic Muderne. E.
j- " Jean Baptiste Louvet de Convray was an advocate, and distinguished actor in the
Revolution. He attached himself to the Girondins, and was included in an order of arrest
issued in 1794 against that party. He, however, managed to escape, and lay concealed in
Paris until after the fall of Robespierre. He subsequently published an account of his
adventures during the time of his proscription — a work written in a romantic style, and
which has been translated into mSny languages. Louvet died at Paris in 1797. He is
chiefly known in literature as the author of that licentious novel, Tke Chevalier Fattblus."
— Encyclopaedia Americana. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 201
friend of Mirabenu and Lafayette, l<nown to be a republican, and one of the
most dislini^uislied members of the le<rislature, was tickle in character, but
remarkable for certain qualities of mind. Louvet, with an ardent spirit, an
excellent understanding, and great boldness, was one of those, who, having
outstripped the Constituent Assembly, dreamt of a republic. Hence they
naturally approximated to the Girondins. His contests with Robespierre
soon attached him still more to them. This party of the Gironde, formed
by degrees, without design, by men possessing too much merit to ally
themselves to the populace, and di.-^tinclion enough to be envied by it and
its leaders, and who were united rather by their situation than by any con-
cert, was destined to be brilliant but weak, and to fall before the more
resolute factions which sprang up around it.
Such then was the state of France. The lately privileged persons had
retired beyond the Rhine. The partisans of the constitution comprehended
the right of the Assembly, the national guard, and the club of the Feuillans.
The Girondins had the majority in the Assembly, but not in the clubs,
where low violence had greater sway. Lastly, the hot-headed democrats
of this new epoch, seated on the highest benches of the Assembly, and
thence denominated the Muuntuin, were all-powerful in the clubs and
among the populace.
Lafayette had resigned all military rank and had been accompanied to his
countrv-seat by the homage and regret of his companions in arms. The
command had not been conferred on a new general, hut six chiefs of legions
commanded by turns the whole national guard. Bailly, the faithful ally of
Lafayette during those three arduous years, likewise resio-ned the mayoralty.
The voices of the electors were divided between Lafayette and Fetion ;
but the court, which would not at any rate have Lafayette, who was never-
theless favourably disposed towards it, preferred Petion, though a repub-
lican. It hoped more from his coldness, which it mistook for stupidity, but
which was quite the reverse, and it incurred considerable expense in order
to secure him a majority. He was accordingly appointed mayor. Petion,
with an enlightened miderstanding, a cold but settled conviction, and con-
sidi'r:il)le address, constantly served the republicans against the court, and
found himself allied to the Gironde by conformity -of views, and by the
envv which his new dignity excited among the .Jacobins.
If, however, notwithst;inding these dispositions of the parties, the Kmg
could have been relied upon, it is possible that the distrust of the Girondins
might have worn off, and that, the pretext for disturbances no longer exist-
ing, the agitators would thenceforward have found no pretext for urging the
populace to commotion.
Tlie intentions of the King were formed ; but he was so weak that they
were lu-ver irrevocable. It was requisite that he should prove them before
they could gain belief; and till he could afioril proof, ho was liable to more
than one outrage. His disposition, though good, was not without a certain
tendency to ill-humour. His resolutions were in consequence easily shaken
by the first faults of the Assembly. This Assembly having been consti-
tuted, took the oath with pomp on the book of the constitution. Its first
decree relative to the ceremonial, abolished the titles of nre and majesty,
usually given to the King. It ordered moreover that, whenever he ap-
peared in the As!V;mbly, he should sit in an arm-chair exactly similar to
that of the president.
Such were the first results of the republican spirit, aiul the pride of Louis
XVL was cruelly wounded by them. To spare himself what he regarded
VOL. I. — 26
202 HISTORY OF THE
«
as an humiliation, lie resolved not to attend the Assembly, but to send his
ministers to open the legislative session. The Assembly, repenting this
first hostility, revoked its decree on the following day, and thus gave a rare
example of recantation. The King then Avent and was warmly received.
Unluckily, it had been decreed that, if the King continued sitting, the mem-
bers should likewise keep tlieir seats. They did so, and Louis XVI. con-
sidered this as a fresh insult. The applause with which he was greeted
could not heal the wound. He returned home pale and with agitated looks.
No sooner was he alone with the Queen than he threw himself into a chair,
sobbing. "Ah! madam," he exclaimed, "you witnessed this humdiation !
What! come to France to see . . . ." — The Queen strove to comfort him ;
but his heart was too deeply lacerated, and his good intentions must have
been shaken by this treatment.*
If, however, he henceforth thought only of having recourse to foreigners,
the dispositions of the powers were not such as to give him much hope.
The declaration of Pilnitz had remained inoperative, either from want of
zeal on the part of the sovereigns, or perhaps on account of the danger
which Louis XVI. would have incurred, having been ever since his return
from Varennes the prisoner of the Constituent Assembly. The acceptance
of the constitution was an additional motive for the sovereigns to await the
results of experience before they proceeded to action. This was the opinion
of Leopold and of Kaunitz the minister. Accordingly, Avhen Louis XVI.
had notified to all the courts that he had accepted the constitution, and that
it was his intention to observe it fiiithfuUy, Austria returned a most pacific
answer. Prussia and England did the same, and protested their amicable
intentions. It is to be observed that the neighbouring powers acted with
more reserve than the remote powers, such as Sweden and Russia, because
they were more immediately compromised by a war. Gustavus, who
dreamt of some brilliant expedition against France, replied to the notification
that he did not consider the King as free. Russia deferred the explanation
of her sentiments. Holland, the Italian principalities, and Switzerland in
particular, gave satisfactory answers. The electors of Treves and Mentz,
in whose territories the emigrants resided, used evasive expressions. Spain
also, importuned by the emigrants of Coblentz, abstained from speaking out;
alleging that she wished for time to insure the liberty of the King. She
nevertheless declared that she had no intention of disturbing the tranquillity
of the kingdom.
Such answers, not one of which was hostile, the assured neutrality of
England, the hesitation of Frederick William, the pacific and well known
disposition of Leopold, all seemed to promise peace. It is impossible to
tell what passed in the vacillating mind of Louis XVI. ; but his evident in-
terest, and the very fears with which the war subsequently filled him, must
induce a belief tliat he too was desirous of the maintenance of peace. Amidst
this general concert, the emigrants alone continued to be obstinately bent on
war, and to prepare for it.
Thev still kept thronging to Coblentz ; where, with great activity, they
armed themselves, prepared magazines, contracted for accoutrements, and
formed skeletons of regiments, which however were not filled up, for none
of them would .become soldiers. Moreover, they instituted ranks which
were sold ; and, if they attempted nothing really dangerous, they neverthe-
less made great preparations, which they themselves deemed formidable,
^ See Madame Campari, tome ii., p. 129.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 203
and by which they expected to strike terror into the imagination of the
French people.*
Tlie grand point was to ascertain whether Louis XVI. were favourable to
them or not ; and it was ditlicult to suppose that he could be otherwise than
well-disposed towards kinsmen and servants who were takin(( up arms to
restore to him his former powers. It would have required nothing less than
the utmost sincerity and continual demonstrations to produce a contrary con-
viction. The letters of the King to the emigrants contained invitations, nay,
even orders, to return ; but he kept up, it was said,t a secret correspondence,
wdiich contradicted liis public correspondence, and destroyed its elTcct.
That secret communications took place with Coblentz cannot indeed be
denied, but I cannot believe that Louis XVI. made use of them to contradict
the injunctions which he had publicly addressed to the emigrants. Hig
most evident interest was that they should return. Their presence at Co-
blentz could not be serviceable so long as they entertained the design of
fiffhtinir : and Louis XVI. dreaded civil war abov-e all things.
Not desiring then that the emigrants should employ their sw'ords on the
Rhine, it was better that he should have them about him, that he might em-
ploy them as occasion required, and comliine their eflbrts with those of the
consdtutionalists for the protection of his person and his throne. jMoreover,
their presence at Coblentz provoked severe laws, which he would not sanc-
tion — a refusal which compromised him with the Assembly ; and we shall
see that it was the use which he now made of the veAo that completely strip-
ped him of popularity, and caused him to be considered as an accomplice of
the emigrants. It would be strange if he had not perceived the cogency of
these rcjasons, which Avas felt by all his ministers, who were unanimously
of opinion that tlie emigrants ought to return and to keep near the person of
the king, in order to defend him, to put an end to alarms, and to deprive
agitators of every pretext. This was the opinion of Bertrand de Molleville
" The continued and increasing emigration of the landholders contributed in the greatest
degree to uiihinee the puhiic mind, and proved, prrha[)s, in the end, the greatest cause of the
sulisequent miseries of the Kevolution. 'i'heir number was by this time, witii their families,
nearly one hundred thousand of the most wealthy and influential body in France. Coltlentz
became the centre of this anti-revolutit)iiary party. In thus deserting their country at the
most critical period of its history, the French nobility betrayed equal baseness and impru-
dence." — Alison. E.
-j- It is Madame Campan, who takes it upon her to inform us that the King kept up a
secret correspondence with Coblentz.
" While the courtiers were conveying the confidential letters of the King to the princes, his
brothers, and to the foreign princes, the Asseml>ly rcijuested the King to write to the princes
and to exhort them to rolurn to France. The King directed the Abtie de .Montesquieu to
draw up for hitn the letter which he purposed sending. This letter, admirably written, in a
touching and simple style, suitable to the character of Louis XVI., and full of very strong
arguments on the advantage of rallying around the principles of the constitution, was put
into my hands by the King for the puri)Ose of making a copy of it.
" At this period, M. Mor .... one of the intcndants of Monsieur's household, obtained
from the Assembly a passport to go to the ))rince, on account of some work that was abso-
lutely necessary to be done to his house. The tjnecn selected him to carry this letter; she
determined to deliver it to him herself, and acquainted him with her motive for doing so.
The choice of this courier surprised me: the t^ueen assured me that there could not be a
filter, that she even reckoned upon his indiscretion, and that it was merely essential that the
public should know o^ the King's letter to his brothers. Tlie princes were no doubt fore-
ivamed hij the privatk correspondence. Monsieur, nevertheless, showed some surprise, and
the messenger returned more afflicted than pleased by such a mark of confidence, which had
well-nigh cost him his life during the years of terror." — Meinoires de Madame Campan,
tome ii., p. 172.
204 HISTORY OF THE
himself, whose principles were anything but constitutional. " It was neces-
saiy," says he, " to use all possible means to increase the popularity of the
King. The most efficacious and the most useful of all, at this moment, was
to recall the emigrants. Their return, generally desired, would have revived
in France the royalist party, Avhich the emigration had completely disor-
ganized. This party, strengthened by the luipopularity of the Assembly,
and recruited by numerous deserters from the constitutional party, and by
all the discontented, would soon have become powerful enough to render
decisive in favour of the King the explosion, more or less speedy, which
there was every reason to expect."*
Louis XVI., conformably with this advice of his ministers, addressed ex-
hortations to the principal officers of the army and navy, to recall them to
their duty, and to keep them at their posts. Ilis exhortations, however,
were useless, and the desertion continued without intermission. The minis-
ter at war reported that nineteen hundred officers had deserted. The As-
sembly could not moderate its wrath, and resolved to take vigorous measures.
Tiie Constituent Assembly had gone no further than to decree that public
functionaries who were out of the kingdom should be superseded, and that
the property of emigrants should be burdened with a triple contribution, to
indemnify the state for the services of which they deprived it by their
absence. The new Assembly proposed more severe penalties.
Several plans were presented. Brissot distinguished three classes of
emigrants: the leaders of the desertion, the public functionaries who aban-
doned their duties, and lastly, those who out of fear had fled from their
country. They ought, he said, to deal severely with the former, to despise
and pity the others.
It is certain that the liberty of man does not allow him to be chained down
to the soil, but when a certainty is obtained, from a multitude of circum-
stances, that the citizens who forsake it are going to assemble abroad for the
purpose of declaring war against it, then, indeed, it is justifiable to take pre-
cautions against such dangerous projects.
The debate was long and warm. The constitutionalists condemned all
the measures proposed, and asserted that they ought to despise useless
attempts, as their predecessors had invariably done. The opposite party
however, carried their point; and a first*decree was passed, enjoining Mon-
sieur, llie King's brother, to return within two months, in default of which
he should lose his eventual right to the regency. A second and more severe
decree was levelled against the emigrants in general : it declared that the
French assembled beyond the frontiers of the kingdom were suspected of
conspiring against France; that, if on the 1st of January next they still con-
tinued assembled, they should be declared guilty of conspiracy, prosecuted
as such, and punished widi death ; and that the revenues of those who
refused to comply shoidd be levied during tlieir lives for the benefit of
the nation, without prejudice to the rights of wives, children and lawful
creditors.
The act of emigration not being in itself reprehensible, it is difficult to
characterize the case in which it becomes so. All that the law could do
was to apprize people tliat they would become culpable in such and such
cases ; and all who wished not to be so, had only to obey. Those who,
when apprized of the term lieyond which al)sence from the kingdom became
a crime, should not return, would consent by this very circumstance to pass
• Tome vi., p. 42.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 205
for criminals. It was incunil)ent on those who, w ithout any hostile or
political motive, were out of the kingdom, to hasten their return : in fact it
is a very trifling sacrifice to tlie safety of a state to abridge a journey of
pleasure or profit.
Louis XVL, in order to satisfy the Assembly and public opinion, assented
to the decree requiring Monsieur to return upon pain of losing his right to
the regency; but he ailixed his veto to tiie law against the emigrants. The
ministers were directed to go in a body to the Assembly, for the purpose of
communicating the pleasure of the King, They first read several decrees
to which the sanction was mven. AVhcn they came to that relative to the
emigrants, profound silence pervaded the Assembly ; and when the keeper
of tlie s(!al.s pronounced the official formula, Tlit Kiua; will examine it,
great discontent was expressed on all sides. He would have entered into a
deveiopomentof the forms of the veto, but a great number of voices were
raised, and told the minister that tlie constitutidu granted to the King the
right of opposing, but not that of assigning motives for opposition. The
minister was therefore obliged towitlidraw, leaving behind him a deep irrita-
tion. This first resistance of the King to tlie Assembly was a definitive
rupture ; and though he had sanctioned the decree which deprived his brother
of the regency, yet people could not help discovering in his rejection of the
second decree an affection for the insurgents atCoblentz. They considered
that he was their kinsman, their friend, and in some degree their co-partner;
and thence concluded that it was impossible for him not to make common
cause with them against the nation.
The very next day, Louis XVL published a proclamation to the emigrants,
and two separate letters to his two brothers. The reasons which he stated
to both were excellent, and a.ppeared to be sincerely urged. He exhorted
them to put an end by tlieir return to the distrust which evil disposed
persons took delight in spreading. He besought them not to compel him to
employ severe measures against them; and, as to his want of liberty, which
was made a pretext for not obeying him, he adduced as an evidence of the
contrary the veto which he had just afiixed in their favour. •• Be this as it
• Letter from the King to Louts Stanislas Xavier, French Prince, the King's Brother.
Paris, Niivcmber 11, 1791,
I wrote to you, my brother, on the IGth of October last, an J you ought not to have had
any doubt of my real sentiments. I am surprised that my letter has not produced the effect
which I had a ri^ht to expect from it. In order to recall you to your duty, I have used all
the argumriits that ought to touch you most. Your absence is a pretext for all the evil dis-
posed, a sort of excuse for all the deluded French, who imacrine that they are servine me by
keeping all France in an alarm and an agitation which are the torment of my life. 'J'he
Revolution is finished; the constitution is completed; France wills it, I will maintain it;
upon its consolidation now depends the welfare of the monarchy. The constitution has con-
ferred rights upon you; it has attached to them one condition which you ought to lose no
time in fulfilling. Believe me, brother, and repel the doubts which pains are taken to excite
in you respecting my liberty. I am going to prove to you by a most solemn act, and in a
circumstance which interests you, that I can act freely. Prove to me that you are my brother
and a Frenchman, by com[)lying with my entreaties. V'our proper place is by my side ;
your interest, your sentiments alike urge you to come and resume it; I invite you, and, if I
may, I order you, to do so, (Signed) Louis.
Answer of Monsieur to the King.
<^ Coblentz, December 3, 1791
Sire, my brother and lord.
The Count de Vergennes has delivered to me in the name of your majesty, a letter, the
address of which, notwithstanding my baptismal names which it contains, is so unlike mine
s
206 HISTORY OF THE
might, those reasons produced neither at Cohlentz nor at Paris the effect
which they were, or appeared to be, intended to produce. The emiorrants
did not return; and in the Assembly tlie tone of the proclamation was
deemed too mild; nay, the power of the executive to issue one was called in
question. That body was in fact too much irritated to be content with a
proclamation, and above all to suffer the King to substitute a useless measure
for the vigorous resolutions which had just been adopted.
A similar trial was at the same moment imposed upon the King, and pro-
duced an equally unfortunate residt. Tlie first religious disturbances had
broken out in the West ; the Constituent Assembly had sent thither two
commissioners, one of whom was Gensonne, afterwards so celebrated in
the party of the Gironde. Tiieir report had been made to the Legislative
Assembly, and, though very moderate, this report had filled it with indigna-
tion. It will be recollected that the Constituent Assembly, in depriving the
that I had some thoughts of returning it unopened. However, upon his positive assertion
that it was for me, I opened it, and the name of brother which I found in it having left me
no further doubt, I read it with the respect which I owe to the handwriting and the signature
of your majesty. The order which it contains to return and resume my place by your
majesty's person is not the free expression of your will ; and my honour, my duty, nay, even
my affection, alike forbid me to obey. If your majesty wishes to be acquainted with all these
motives more in detail, I beg you to refer to my letter of the 10th of September last. I also
entreat you to receive with kindness the homage of the sentiments equally tender and respectful,
with which I am, &c., &c., &c.
Letter from the King to Charles Philippe, French Prince, the King's Brother.
Paris, November 11, 1791.
You must certainly be aware of the decree which the National Assembly has passed relative
to the French who have left their country. I have not thought it right to give my consent
to it, fondly believing that mild means will more ellectually accomplish the end which is
proposed, and which the interest of the state demands. The various communications which
I have made to you cannot leave you in any doubt respecting my intentions or my wishes.
The public tranquillity and my personal peace are interested in your return. You could not
persist in a conduct which disturbs France and which grieves me, without disregarding your
most essential duties. S[)are me the regret of recurring to severe measures against you ;
consult your true interest; sutler yourself to be guided by the aUachment which you owe to
your country, and yield, in short, to the wish of the French, and to that of your King. This
step, on your part, will be a proof of your sentiments for me, and will insure to you the con-
tinuance of those which I always entertained for you. (Signed) Louis.
Answer of the Count d'Artois to the King.
Coblentz, Decembers, 1791.
Sire, my brother and lord,
Count De Vergennes delivered to me yesterday a letter, which, he assured me, had been
addressed to me by your majesty. The superscription which gives me a title that I cannot
admit, led me to suppose that this letter was not destined for me ; however, having recognised
the seal of your majesty, I opened it, and paid respect to the handwriting and the signature
of my King; but the total omission of the name of brother, and, above all, the decisions
referred to in this letter, have furnished me with a fresh proof of the moral and physical cap-
tivity in which our enemies dare to hold your majesty. After this declaration, your majesty
will think it natural that, faithful to my duty, and the laws of honour, I should not "obey
orders evidently wrung from you by violence.
Besides, the letter which 1 had the honour to write to your majesty, conjointly with Mon-
sieur, on the 10th of September last, contains the sentiments, the principles, and the resolu-
tions, from which I shall never swerve; I refer to it, therefore, absolutely ; it shall be
the basis of my conduct, and I here renew my oath to that effect. I entreat your majesty
to receive the homage of the sentiments equally tender and respectful, with which I
am, &c., &c., &c.
>
y
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 207
nonjurin^ priests of their functions, had nevertheless left them a pension,
and liberty to perform relij^ioiis service apart. They had ever since en-
deavoured to excite the people against their colleagues who had taken the
oath, and inveighed against them as impious wretches, whose ministry was
null and dangerous. They drew the peasants after them to great distances
for the purpose of saying mass to tliem. The latter were irritated to see
their churches occupied by a worship which they were taught to consider
as had, and to be obliged to go so far in quest of that which they looked
upon as good. Civil war was imminent.* Fresh information communi-
* The Report of Messrs. Gallois and Gensonne is indisputably the best historical authority
concerning the commencement of the disturbances in La Vendee. The origin of those dis-
turbances is the most interesting part of it, because it makes us acquainted with their causes.
I I have thought it necessary, therefore, to sulijoin this Report. It seems to me to tlirow hght
on one of the most curious portions of that melancholy history.
Report of Messrs. Gallnis and Gensonne, Ciinl Commissioners sent into the Departments
of La Vendee and Deux-Sevres, In/ virtue of Decrees of the Constituent Assembly,
made to the Legia/afive Assembly, October 9, 1791.
Gentlemen, the National Assembly decreed, on the 16th of July last, on the report of its
committee of research, that civil commissioners should be sent to the department of La
Vendee, to collect all the information they could obtain respecting the causes of the recent
disturbances in that country, and to concur with the administrative bodies in the restoratioQ
of the public tranquillity.
On the 23d of July we were charged with this mission, and we set out two days after-
wards for Fontenay-le-Comte, the chief town of that department.
After conferring for some days with the administrators of the directory upon the state of
things and the disposition of people's minds ; after concerting with the three admitjistrative
bodies some preliminary measures for the maintenance of jxiblic order; we determined to
visit the different districts composing this department, in order to examine how much was
true or false, real or exaggerated, in the complaints which had already reached us — to ascer-
tain, in short, with all possible accuracy, the state of this department.
W'c have travelled over almost every part of it, sometimes for the purpose of obtaining
information that we needed, at others, to maintain peace, to obviate public disturbances, or
to prevent the violence with which some of the citizens believed themselves to be threatened.
We have examined in several district directories all the municipalities of which each of
them is composed ; we have listened with the greatest attention to all the citizens who had
either facts to communicate or suggestions to propose to us; we have carefully collected and
compared together all the particulars that have come to our knowledge; but, as these details
are more numerous than diversified, as the facts, complaints, and observations have been
everywhere alike, we shall present to you in one general point of view, a:id in an abridged
but accurate manner, the result of this multitude of particular facts.
We deem it unnecessary to submit to you the information which we obtained concerning
anterior disturbances ; they have not appeared to us to have any very direct influence on the
present state of this department ; besides, the law of amnesty having put a stop to the dif-
ferent pro.secutions to which those disturbances gave occasion, we could present to you only,
vague conjectures and uncertain results concerning those matters.
The epoch of the taking of the ecclesiastical oath was the first epoch of the disturbances
in the department of La Vendee : till then the people there had enjoyed the greatest tran-
quillity. Remote from the common centre of all action and all resistance, disjjoscd by their
natural character to the love of peace, to the sentiment of order, to respect for the law, they
reaped the benefits of the Revolution without experiencing its storms.
In the country, the dilHculty of the communications, the sim[)licily of a purely agricul-
tural life, the lessons of childhood and of the religiou.s emblems destined incessantly to
engage our attention, had opened the soul to a multitude of superstitious impressions, which,
in the present state of things, no kind of instruction can either destroy or moderate.
Their religion, that is to say, religion such as they conceive it, is become to them the
.strongest, and indeed Ve may .say, the only moral habit of their lives; the most essential
object which it holds forth to them is the worship of images ; and the minister of this wor-
ship, he whom the country-people consider as the dis[)enser of the Divine favour, who can,
by the fervour of his prayers, mitigate the inclemency of the seasons, and has at bis
208 HISTORY OF THE
cated to the Assembly proved lliat the danger had become still greater. It
then determined to adopt measures against these new enemies of the con-
peculiar disposal the happiness of a future life, soon secures to himself the softest as well as
the strongest atfections of their souls.
The constancy of the people of this department in the kind of their religious acts, and
the uidnnited confidence possessed by the priests to whom they are accustomed, are one
of the principal elements of the disturbances which have agitated and are still likely to
agitate them.
It is easy to conceive with what assiduity either misguided or factious priests have con-
trived to avail themselves of these dispositions of the people towards them. Nothing has
been neglected to kindle their zeal, to alarm their consciences, to strengthen weak characters,
to encourage decided characters: in some have been awakened uneasiness and remorse, in
others hopes of happiness and salvation : and upon almost all the influence of seduction and
fear has been tried with success.
Many of these ecclesiastics are upright and sincere; they appear to be deeply impressed
both with the ideas which they disseminate and with the sentiments which they inspire:
others are accused of cloaking with zeal for religion interests dearer to their hearts; these
latter have a political activity, which increases or relaxes according to circumstances.
A powerful coalition has been formed between the late Bishop of Lu^nn, and part of the
former clergy of his diocese: they have concerted a plan of opposition to the execution of
the decrees which were to be carried into effect in all the parislies ; pastoral charges and in-
flammatory papers sent from Paris have been addressed to all the cures, to fortify them in
their resolution, or to engage them in a confederation which is presumeii to be general. A
circular letter written by M. Beauregard, grand-vicar of M. de Merci, late Bishop of Lugon,
dei>osited in the office of the tribunal of Fontenay, and which that ecclesiastic avowed at
the time of his examination, will fix your opinion, gentlemen, in an accurate manner, both
resjiecting the secret of that coalition, and the skilfully combined proceedings of those who
have formed it.
It is as follows:
Letter, dated Ltignn, May 31, 1791, under envelope, addressed to the Cure of La Rcorihe.
A decree of the National Assembly, sir, dated 7ih May, grants to the ecclesiastics whom
it has pretended to remove for refusing to take the oath, the use of the parish churches for
saying mass there only. The same decree authorizes the Roman Catholics as well as all
the nonconformists, to meet for the exercise of religious worship in any place which they
shall have chosen for that purpose, on condition that in their public instructions nothing
shall be said against the civil constitution of the clergy.
The liberty granted to the legitimate pastors by the first article of this decree ought to be
considered as a snare so much the more dangerous, because true believers would not find in
the churches of which the intruders have gained possession any other instructions but those
of their false pastors ; because they could not receive the sacraments there but from their
hands; and thus they would have with these schismatic pastors a communication which the
laws of the church interdict. To obviate so great an evil, gentlemen, the cures will feel
the necessity of securing as soon as possible a place where they can, by virtue of the second
article of this decree, exercise their functions and assemble their faithful parishioners, as
soon as their pretended successors have taken possession of their churches. Without this
precaution, the Catholics, fearful of being deprived of the mass and the divine offices, and
'called by the voice of false pastors, might soon be induced to communicate with them, and
be ex|)osed to the risk of an almost inevitable seduction.
In the parishes where there are few wealthy proprietors, it will no doubt be difiicult to
find a suitable building and to procure sacred vessels and ornaments: then a mere barn, a
moveable altar, a surplice of muslin or any other common stuff, and vessels of tin, will
suffice, in this case of necessity, for the celebration of the sacred mysteries and of divine
service.
This simplicity, this poverty, by reminding us of the first ages of the Church and of the
cradle of our holy religion, may he a [lovverfiil means of exciting the zeal of the ministers
and the fervour of the faithful. The first Christians had no other temples but their houses;
there the pastors and their (lock met to celebrate the sacred mysteries, to hear the word of
God, and to sing the praises of the Lord. In the persecutions with which the Church was
alHicled, obliged to forsake their churches, they retired into caverns and even into tombs;
and for the true believers these times of trial wore periods of the greatest fervour. There
are very few parishes where messieurs the cures could not procure a building and ornaments
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 209
stitution, similar to those which it had taken against the armed enemies
beyond the Rhine, and to put tiie disposition of tlie King to a new test.
such as I have just mentioned, and till they can provide themselves with needful things, such
of their neighbours as shall not be displaced will be able to assist them with what they can
epare from their churches. We shall have it in our power immediately to supply with
sacred stones those who want them, and at this moment we can cause the cups, or the
vessels employed as substitutes for them, to be consecrated.
M. the Bishop of Lugon, in the particular instructions which he has transmitted to us, by
way of supplement to those of M. the Bishop of Langres, and which will be circulated in
like manner in the (liferent dioceses, proposes to messieurs the cures,-
1. To keep a double register, in which shall be entered the acts of baptism, marriage, and
burial of the Catholics of the parish: one of these registers shall remain in their hands;
the other shall be by them deposited every year in the hands of a confidential person.
2. Besides this register, messieurs the cures will keep another, likewise double, in which
shall be entered the acts of dispensation concerning marriages, which they shall have granted
by virtue of the powers which shall be given them by Article 18th of the Instructions.
These acts shall be signed by two trusty and faithful witnesses, and, to give them greater
authenticity, the registers destined to contain them shall be approved, numbered, and signed
by M. the Bishop, or in his absence by one of his vicais-general. A duplicate of this register
shall be delivered, as above mentioneii, to a confidential person.
3. Messieurs the cures will wait, if possible, before they retire from their church and their
ministry, till their pretended successor has notified to them the act of his appointment and
institution, and till they protest against all that may be done in consequence.
4. They shall draw up privately a report (proces verbal) of the intrusion of the pre-
tended cure and of the invasion made by him upon the parish church and the living; in this
report, the model of which I annex, they will formally protest against all the acts of jurisdic-
tion which he may choose to exercise as cure of the parish : and to give to this act all pos-
sible authenticity, it shall be signed by the cure, his vicar, if he has one, and a neiglibouring
priest, and even by two or three pious and discreet layman, taking nevertheless the utmost
precaution not to betray the secret.
5. iSuch of messieurs the cures whose parishes shall be declared suppressed without the
intervention of the legitimate bishop, shall adopt the same means ; they shall consider them-
selves as being still the only legitimate pastors of their parishes, and, if it be absolutely im-
possiiile for them to remain there, they shall endeavour to procure a lodging sufficiently near
to be able to supply the s[)iritual wants of their parishioners, and they shall take great care
to forewarn and to instruct them in their duties on that head.
6. If the civil power should o[)pose the faithful Catholics having one general cemetery,
or if the relatives of deceased persons manifest too strong a repugnance to their being inter-
red in a separate place, though specially consecrated, as it is said in Article 19 of the Instruc-
tions, after the legitimate pastor or one of his representatives shall have said at the house
the prayers prescribed by the ritual, and shall have drawn up the certificate of death, which
shall be signed by the relatives, the body of the deceased may he carried to the door of the
church, and the relations shall be at liberty to accom])any it; but they shall be warned to
retire at the moment when the intruding cure and vicars come to have the body lifted up,
that they may not participate in the ceremonies and prayers of these schismatic priests.
7. In the acts, when the displaced cures are denied their title o( cure, they shall sign lliose
acts with their christian and family name, without losing any quality.
I beg you, sir, and such of your colleagues to whom you may think it right to communi-
cate my letter, to have the goodness to inform us of the moment of your removal, if it does
take place, of the installation of your pretended successor, and of its most remarkable circum-
stances, of the dispositions of your j)arishioners on this head, of the means which you
think it right to adopt for the service of your parish, and of your residence, if you are abso-
lutely obliged to leave it. You cannot doubt that all these particulars will deeply interest us ;
your griefs are ours, and our most ardent wish is to be able, by sharing them, to mitigate
tlieir bitterness.
I have the honour to be, with a respectful and inviolable attachment, } our most humble
and most obedient servant.
These manoeuvres were powerfully seconded by missionaries established in the village of
St. Laurent, district of Montaigu ; nay, it is to the activity of their zeal, to their underhand
dealings, to their indefaligable and secret exhortations that, we are of opinion, the disposition
VOL. I. — 27 s 2
210 HISTORY OF THE
The Constituent Assembly had required all priests to take the civic oath.
Those who refused to comply, though they lost the character of ministers
of a very great part of the population in almost the whole of the department of La Vendee
and in the district of Chatiilon, department of the Deux-Sevres, is principally to be attri-
buted. It is of essential importance to fix the attention of the National Assembly on the
conduct of these missionaries and the spirit of their institution.
This establishment was founded, about sixty years ago, for a society of secular priests,
living by alms, and destined as missionaries to the duty of preaching. These missionaries,
who have won the confidence of the people by artfully distributing rosaries, medals, and
indulgences, and by setting up Calvaries of all forms upon the roads of all this part of
France ; these missionaries have since become numerous enough to form new establishments
in other parts of the kingdom. They are to be found in the late provinces of Poitou, Anjou,
Bretagne, and Aunis, labouring with the same activity for the success, and in some measure
for the eternal duration, of this sort of religious practices, which have become, through their
assiduous endeavours, the sole religion of the people. The village of St. Laurent is their
head-quarters ; they have recently built there a spacious and handsome monastic house, and
acquired, it is said, other territorial property.
This congregation is connected by the nature and spirit of its institution with an esta-
blishment of gray nuns, founded in the same place, and known by the name oi fJlcs ds ij.
iagesse (nuns of wisdom). Devoted in this department and in several others to attendance
on the poor, particularly in the hospitals, they are a very active medium of general corros-
j)ondence for these missionaries throughout the kingdom. The house of St. Laurent has
become their place of refuge, when the intolerant fervour of their zeal or other circum-
stances have obliged the managers of the hospitals which they attend to dispense with their
services.
To determine your opinion respecting the conduct of these ardent missionaries and the
religious morality which they profess, it will be sufficient, gentlemen, to lay before you a
brief summary of the maxims contained in various manuscripts found upon them by the
national guard of Angers and Cholet.
These manuscripts, drawn up in the form of instructions for the country-people, lay it
down as a rule that they must not apply to the constitutional priests, stigmatized as intruders,
for the administration of the sacraments; that all those who partake therein, even by their
mere presence, commit a deadly sin, for which nothing but ignorance or defect of understand-
ing can be an excuse ; that those who shall have the audacity to get married by intruders
will not be really married, and that they will draw down the divine malediction upon them-
selves and their children ; that things will be so arranged that the validity of the marriages
performed by the late cures will not be disputed ; but that, meanwhile, they must make up
their minds to the worst ; that if the children do not pass for legitimate, they will neverthe-
less be so ; that, on the contrary, the children of those who shall have been married by the
intruders will be really bastards, because God will not have ratified the union, and because
it is better that a marriage should be invalid in the sight of men than in the sight of God ;
that they ought not to apply to the new cures in cases of burial ; and that, if the former
aire cannot otlrciate without risking his life and liberty, the relatives or friends of the de-
ceased ought privately to perform the duty of interment.
On this subject it is observed that the late cure will take care to keep an accurate register
for the registration of these different acts; that, in fact, it is impossible for the civil tribunal
to pay any attention to this point, but that it is a misfortune to which people must submit ;
that the civil registration is a great advantage, which must nevertheless be dispensed with,
because it is better to be deprived of it than to turn apostate by applying to an intruder.
Lastly, all true believers are exhorted to have no communication with an intruder, and to
take no part in his intrusion ; it is declared that the municipal officers who shall install him
will be apostates like himself, and that the very sextons, singers, and bell-ringers, ought that
very moment to resign their places.
Such, gentlemen, is the absurd and pernicious doctrine which is contained in those manu-
scripts, and of which the public voice accuses the missionaries of St. Laurent of having been
the most zealous propagators.
They were denounced at the time to the committee of research of the National Assembh/^,
and the silence observed in regard to them, has served only to ii.crease the activity of their
•eflbrts and to extend their baneful infiuence.
We have deemed it indispensably necessary to lay before you an abridged analysis of the
principles contained in these writings, as displayed in an arrcle of the department of Maine
FRENCH REVOLUTIOX. 211
of public worship paid by the state, retained their pensions ns mere eccle-
siastics and the liberty of exercising their ministry in private. Nothing
and Loire, of tho 5th June, 1791, because it is sufRcient to compare them with the circular
letter of the grand-vicar of the late Bishop of Lucon to be convinced that they belong to a
general system of opposition to the decrees on the civil organization of the clergy ; and the pre-
sent state of the majority of the parishes of this department exhibits only the development
of this system and the principles of this doctrine, sot almost everywhere in action.
The too tardy removal of the cures has greatly contributed to the success of this coalition:
this delay has been occasioned, in the iirst place, by the refusal of M. Servant, who after
having been appointed to the bishofjric of the department, and accepted that oflice, declared,
on the UJth of April, that he withdrew his acceptance. M. Rodrigue, the present bishop of
the department, whose moderation and firmness arc almost his sole support in a chair sur-
rounded by storms and embarrassments — M. Kodrigue could not be nominated till the
first days in the month of May. At that time the acts of resistance had been calculated and
determined upon agreeably to a uniform plan ; the opposition was commenced and in full
activity; the grand-vicars and the cure's had agreed and bound themselves closely together
by the same bond ; the jealousies, the rivalstiips, the quarrels, of the old ecclesiastical
hierarchy had had time to subside, and all interests had been blended into one general
interest.
The removal could only be in part effected : the very great majority of the old public
ecclesiastical functionaries still remains in the parishes invested with its former functions;
the last appointments have been almost wholly unsuccessful ; and the persons lately elected,
deterred by the prospect of the ntimberless contradictions and disagreements prepared for
tliem by their nomination, reply to it by refusals alotje.
This division of sworn and nonjuring priests has formed an absolute division between the
people of their parishes : families too are divided : wives have been seen, and are daily
seen, parting from their husbands, children leaving their parents : the state of citizens is in
most cases certified only upon loose pieces of paper, and the individual who receives them,
not being clothed with any public character, cannot give any legal authenticity to this kind
of proof.
The municipalities have disorganized themselves, and the greater number of them that
they might not concur in the removal of nonjuring cures.
A great [lortion of the citizens has renounced the service in the national guard, and that
which remains could not be employed without danger in any operations having for their
principle or object acts concerning religion, because the people would then view the national
guards not as the unimpassioned instruments of the law, but as the agents of a party hostile
to its own.
In several parts of the department, an administrator, a judge, a member of the electoral
body, arc objects of aversion to the people, because they concur in the execution of the law
relative to the ecclesiastical functionaries.
This disposition of mind is the more deplorable, as the means of public instruction are
daily becoming more diiricult. The general laws of the state are confounded by the people
with the particular regulations for the civil organization of the clergy, and this renders the
reading and the publication of them useless.
The malcontents, the men who dislike the new system, and those who in the new system
dislike the laws relative to the clergy, studiously keep up this aversion of the people,
strengthen by all the means in their power the inllucnce of the nonjuring i)riests, and weaken
the intluencc of the others; the pauper obtains no relief, the artisan cannot hope to obtain
any employment for his talents and industry, unless he promises not to attend mass said by
a priest who has taken the oath ; and it is by this concurrence of confidence in the former
priests, on the one hand, and of threats and seductive arts on the other, that at this moment
the churches where priests who have taken the oath ofliciate are deserted, and that people
throiig to those where, for want of candidates, the removals have not yet been carried into
eflecl.
Nothing is more common than to see in parishes of five or six hundred persons ten or
twelve only attending mass said by the sworn priest; the proportion is the same in all the
places of the department. On Sundays and holidays may he seen whole villages and ham-
lets whose inhabitantS-leave their hmnes to go to the distance of a league, and sometimes ten
leagues, to hear mass said by a nonjuring jiriest. These habitual desertions have appeared
to us the most powerful cause of the firment, sometimes secret, at others open, which exist
in almost all the parishes served by priests who have taken the oath : it is easy to conceive
212 HISTORY OF THE
could be milder or more moderate tlian such a restriction. The Legislative
Assemljly required the oath to be taken anew, and deprived those who
that a multitude of persons who consider themselves obliged by their conscience to go to a
distance to obtain the spiritual succours which they need, must see with aversion, when they
return home exhausted with fatigue, the five or six individuals who find at hand the priest
of their choice; they view with envy and treat with harshness, nay frequently even with
violence, the men who seem to them to possess an exclusive privilege in matters of religion.
The comparison which they make between the facility which they formerly had to find by
their side priests who enjoyed their confidence, and the trouble, fatigue, and loss of time
occasioned by these repeated journeys, greatly diminishes their attachment to the constitution,
to which they attribute all the discomforts oi' their new situation.
It is to this general cause, more active perhaps at this moment than the secret provocation
of the nonjuring priests, that in our opinion ought to be attributed more especially the state
of internal discord in which we have found the greater number of the parishes of the depart-
ment served by priests who have taken the oath.
Several of them have presented to us, as well as to the administrative bodies, petition9
praying that they may be authorized to hire particular edifices for the use of their religious
worship; but as thr-se petitions, which we knew to be instigated with the greatest activity by
persons who did not sign them, appeared to us to belong to a more general and more secret
system, we have not deemed it right to take any measure tending to a religious separation,
which we conceived at the time, considering the state of this department, to involve all the
characters of a civil breach between the citrzens. We have thought and publicly said that it
was for you, gentlemen, to determine in a precise manner how, and by what concurrence of
moral inlluences, laws, and means of execution, the exercise of the liberty of religious opinions
ought on this point, and in the present circumstances, to ally itself to the maintenance of the
public tranquillity.
It is certainly matter of surprise that the nonjuring priests who reside in their old parishes
do not avail tliemseives of the liberty allowed by the law to say mass in the church where
the new cure officiates, and are not eager to make use of that faculty, in order to spare their
old parishioners, and those who have remained attached to them the loss of time and the
inconveniences of these numerous and compulsory journeys. To explain this conduct, appa-
rently so extraordinary, it is of importance to recollect that one of the things which had been
most strongly recommended to the nonjuring priests, by the able men who have directed this
grand religious enterprise, is to abstain from all communication with the priests whom they
call intruders and usurpers, lest the people, who are struck only by sensible signs, should at
length become accustomed to see no difference between the priests who should perform in the
same church the exercises of the same worship.
Unfortunately, this religious division has produced a political breach between the citizens,
and this breach is further widened by the appellation given to each of the two parties : the
small number of persons who go to the church of the priests who have taken the oath call
themselves and are called pa^7o/s ; those who attend the church of the nonjuring priest are
called and call themselves aristocrats. Thus, with the poor country-peojile, love or hatred
of their country consists now-a-days not in obeying the laws, and in respecting the legitimate
authorities, but in going or not going to mass said by a sworn priest. On this point igno-
rance and prejudice have struck such deep root, that we have had great difiiculty to make
them comprehend that the political constitution of the state was not the civil constitution of
the clergy ; that the law did not tyrannize over consciences ; that every one was at perfect
liberty to go to the mass that he liked best and to the priest in whom he had most confidence ;
that they were all equal in the sight of the law, and that on this point it imposed on them no
other obligation than to live in peace, and to bear mutually with the difference of each others'
religious opinions. We have done all in our power to banish this absurd denomination from
the minds and from the language of the country-people, and we have endeavoured to do so
the more assiduously, because it was easy for us to calculate at that period all the conse-
quences of such a demarcation, in a department where these pretended aristocrats formed
more than two-thirds of the population.
Such, gentlemen, is the result of the facts that have come to our knowledge in the depart-
ment of La Vendee, and such are the reflections to which these facts have given rise.
We have taken on this subject all the measures that were in our power, both to maintain
the general tranquillity, and to prevent or suppress the violations of public order: organs of
the law, we have everywhere spoken its language. At the same time that we established
means of order and security, we took pains to explain or to elucidate, before the adiuinistra-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 213
refused of nny salary whatever. As they ahused their liberty by excitin"^
civil war, it ordered that, according to their conduct, they should be removed
tive bodies, the tribunals, or individuals, the difficulties incident either to the right under-
standing of the decrees or to their mode of execution ; we exhorted the administrative bodies
and the tribunals to redouble their vigilance and zeal in the execution of the laws which pro-
tect the safety of persons and property, to use, in short, with firmness, the authority which
the law has conferred on them; we distributed part of the public force which was at our
disposal ill places where the danger was described to us as being more serious or niori' immi-
nent: we repaired to every place on the first tidings of disturbance ; we ascertained the state
of things with more calmness and reflection ; and after having either by the language of peace
and consolation, or by the firm and just expression of the law, pacified this momentary tumult
of individual passions, we were of opinion that the mere presence of the public force would
be sufiicient. It is to you, gentlemen, and to you alone, that it belongs to take truly effica-
cious measures respecting a matter which, from the relation into which it has been brought
\yith the constitution of the state, exercises at this moment a much greater influence upon
that constitution than the first and most simple notions of reason, apart from the experience
of facts, could lead one to imagine.
In all our operations relative to the distribution of the public force, we have been seconded
in the most active manner by a general officer well known for his patriotism arid his intelli-
gence. No sooner was M. Dumouriez apprized of our arrival in the department than he
came to associate himself with us in our labours, and to concur with us in the maintenance
of the public peace: we were on the point of being totally deprived of troops of the line at a
moment when we had reason to believe that they were more necessary for us than ever; it
was to the zeal and to the activity of M. Dumouriez that we were indebted for immediate
succour, which, owing to the delay of the organization of the gendarmerie, was in some
me:isure the sole guarantee of the tranquillity of the country.
We had just finished our mission in this department of La Vendee, gentlemen, when the
decree of the National Assembly of the 8th of August, which, on the application of the admi-
nistrators of the department of the Deux-Sevres, authorized us to proceed to the district of
Chatillon, reached us as well as the directory of this department.
We had been informed, on our arrival at Fontenay-le-Comte, that this district was in the
same state of religious agitation as the department of La Vendee. Some days before the
receipt of the decree for our commission, several citizens, electors and public functionaries of
that district, came to make a written complaint to the directory of the department of the
Deux-Sc'vres respecting disturbances which, as they alleged, existed in different parishes;
they declared that an insurrection was on the point of breaking out: the remedy which to
them appeared the most certain and the most prompt, and which they most earnestly pro-
posed, was to compel all the cures, who had not taken the oath and been superseded, and all
vicars who had not taken the oath, to quit the district within three days. The directory, after
having long hesitated to adopt a measure which appeared to it to be contrary to the principles
of strict justice, conceived at length that the public character of the complainants was suffi-
cient to prove both the reality of the evil and the urgent necessity of the remedy. A resolu-
tion (arrcfe) was in consequence passed on the oth of September, and the directory ordered
all ecclesiastics to quit the <listrict in three days, but at the same time invited them to repair
within the same term to Niort, the chief town of the department, assuring them that they
should there Jind protect ion and siifcli/ for their persons.
The resolution was already printinl and about to be carried into execution, when the direc-
tory received a despatch containing the decree of commission which it had solicited : it im-
mediately passed a fresh resolution, by which it suspended the execution of the first, and left
to our prudence the faculty of confirming, modifying, or suppressing.
Two administrators of the directory were by the same resolution appointed commissioners
to communicate to us what had passed, to repair to Chatillon, and there take in concert with
us all the measures that we should deem necessary.
On our arrival at Chatillon we caused the fifty-six municipalities of which that district is
composed to be called together; they were successively summoned into the hall of the direc-
tory. We consulted each of them on the state of its parish: all these municipalities expressed
the same wish; those whose cures had been superseded solicited the restoration of those
priests; those whose Conjuring cure* were still in oflice desired to retain them. There is
another point on which all these country-people agreed : that is the liberty of religious opi-
nions, which, they said, had been granted to them, and which they were anxious to enjoy.
On the same and the following day, the neighbouring country sent numerous deputations of
214 HISTORY OF THE
from one place to another, and even sentenced to imprisonment if they
refused to obey. Lastly, it forbade them tlie free exercise of their private
worship, and directed the administrative bodies to transmit to it a list, with,
notes, relative to the conduct of each of them.
its inhabitants to reiterate the same petition. " We solicit no other favor," said they unani-
mously, " than to have priests in whom we have confiJcnce." Several of them attached so
higii a value to this favour, that they even assured us that they would willingly pay double
tlieir imposts to obtain it.
The very great majority of the public ecclesiastical functionaries of this district have not
taken the oath ; and, whilst their churches are scarcely sufficient to hold the concourse of
citizens, those of the priests who have taken the oath are almost deserted. In this respect,
the state of this district has appeared to us to be the same as that of the department of La
Vendee : there, as in other parts, we have found the denominations of patriot and aristocrat
completely established among the people, in the same signification, and perhaps in a more
general manner. The disposition of people's minds in favour of the noiijuring priests ap-
peared to us more decided than in the department of La Vendee; the attachment felt for
them, the confidence reposed in them, have all the characters of the warmest and deepest
sentiment; in some of these parishes, priests who have taken the oath, or citizens attached
to these priests, had been exposed to threats and insult : and although there, as elsewhere,
these acts of violence have appeared to be sometimes exaggerated, yet we ascertained — and
the mere report of the disposition of minds is sufficient to produce this conviction — that
most of the complaints were founded on undeniable rights.
At the same time that we recommended the utmost vigilance on this point to the judges
and to the administrators, we omitted nothing that could infuse into the people notiims and
feelings more conformable with respect for the law and with the right of individual liberty.
We ought to inform you, gentlemen, that these very men, who had been described to us
as furious, as deaf to every sort of reason, left us with souls filled with peace and happiness,
when we had given them to understand that respect for liberty of conscience was inherent
in the principles of the new constitution; they were deeply penitent and grieved for the
faults which some of them might have committed ; they promised us with emotion to follow
the advice which we gave them, to live in peace, notwithstanding t!ie difference of tlirir
religious opinions, and to respect the public functionary established by the law. 'i'hey were
heard, as they went away, congratulating themselves on having seen us, repeating to one
another all that we had said to them, and mutually encouraging each other in their resolu-
tions of peace and good fellowship.
The same day messengers came to inform us that several of these country-people, on
their return home, had posted up bills declaring that each of them had engaged to denounce
and cause to be apprehended the first person who should injure another, and especially
priests who had taken the oath.
We ought to remark that, in this same district, which has long been agitated by the
difference of religious opinions, the arrears of taxes for 1789 and 1790, amounting to
700,1)00 livres, have been almost entirely paid up; proof of which was furnished us by the
directory of the district.
After we had carefully observed the state of minds and of things, we were of opinion
that the resolution of the directory ought not to be carried into execution, and the com-
missioners of the department, as well as the administrators of the directory of Chatillon,
were of the same opinion.
Setting aside all the motives of determination which we were enabled to draw both from
things and persons, we examined whether the measure adopted by the directory were in the
first place just in its nature, and in the next whether it were efficacious in execution.
We conceived that the priests who have been superseded cannot be considered as in a
state of rebellion against the law, because they continue to reside in the place of their
former functions, es))ecially since among these priests there are some, who, it is matter of
public notoriety, lead charitable ami peaceful lives, far from all (lublic and private discussion.
We conceived that, in the eye of the law, a man cannot be in a state of rebellion, unless
by putting himself in that state by precise, certain, and authenticated acts; we conceived,
lastly, that acts of provocation against the laws relative to the clergy and against all the
laws of the king(3om, ought, like all other misdemeanors, to be punished by legal forms.
Examining afterwards the ethcacy of this measure, we saw that, if faithful Catholics
have no confidence in the priests who have taken the oath, it is not the way to inspire them
with more to remove from them in this manner the priests of their choice. We saw that,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 215
This measure, as well as that Avhich had just been taken ajjainst the
emiffrants, originated in the anxiety which seizes governments that are
threatened to surround themselves with excessive precautions. It is not the
ascertained fact which they punish, but the presumed attack against whicK
they proceed, and their measures become as arbitrary and cruel as they are
suspicious.
'I'he bishops and the priests who had remained in Paris, and who had
kept up a correspondence with tlie King, immediately sent to him a memo-
rial against the decree. The King, who was already full of scruples, and
had always reproached himself for having sanctioned the decree of the
Constituent Assembly, needed no encouragement for this refusal. "As for
this," said he, speaking of the new plan, " they shall take my life before
they shall oblige me to sanction it." The ministers were nearly all of the
same opinion. Barnave and Lameth, whom the King occasionally con-
sulted, advised him to refuse his sanction : but to this counsel they added
other recommendations, which the King could not make up his mind to
follow. These were, that, in opposing the decree, he should not leave any
doubt respecting his disposition, and that for this purpose he should re-
move from about his person all priests who refused to take the oath, and
compose his chapel of none but constitutional ecclesiastics.
But of all the counsels which they gave him, the King adopted only such
as harmonized with his weakness or his devotion. Duport-Dutei'tre, keeper
of the seals, and the organ of the constitutionalists with the ministry,
in the districts where the very great majority of the nonjuring priests continue to exercise
their functions, agreeably to the permission of the law, til! they are £U[)erseclecl, it would
certainly not be, in such a system of rp[)rcssion, diminishing the evil to remove so small a
nuiiibcr of persons, when you would be obliged to leave in the same places a much greater
numi)er whose opinions are the same.
Such, gentlemen, are some of the ideas which have guided our conduct in this circum-
stance, independently of all the reasons of Kicality, which alone would have been strong
enough to oblige us to follow tliis line : such, in fact, was the disposition of minds, that the
execution of this resolution would have infallibly been the signal for a civil war in those parts.
The directory of the de])artment of the Deux-Sevres, apprized at first by il-s commis-
sioners, and afterwards by us, of all that we had done on this head, has been pleased to
present to us the expression of its thanks by a resolution of the 19th of last month.
We shall add, with respect to the measure for removing the nonjuring priests who
have lieen superseded, that it was constantly proposed to us almost unanimously by those
citizens of the department of La Vendee who are attached to the priests that have taken the
oath — citizens who themselves form, as you have seen, the smallest portion of the inha-
bitants : in transmitting to you this petition we merely acquit ourselves of a commission
with which we have been intrusted.
jN'either can we suffer you to remain ignorant that some of the priests who have taken
the oath, that we have seen, have been of a contrary ojiinion. One of them, in a letter
which he aildressed to us on the 12th of September, wliilst assigning to us the same causes
of the disturbances, whilst expatiating on the many vexations to which he is daily exposed,
remarked that the only way of remedying all these evils (these are his own expressions)
"is to be tender towards the opinion of the people, whose prejudices must be cured by gen-
tleness and jirudence ; for," he adds, "all war on account of religion, whose wounds still
bleed, must be prevented .... It is to be feared that the rigorous measures necessary,
under present circumstances, against the disturbers of the public peace, may appear rather
in the light of a persecution than of a [lunishment inflicte<l by the law What
Jirudence is it needful to employ! Mildness, instruction, are the wea])ons of truth."
Such, gentlemen, is the general result of the particulars which we have C(>llectcd, and the
observations which ^e have made, in the course of the mission with which we have been
intrusted. The most pleasing reward of our labours would be to have facilitated for you the
means of establishing, on solid foundations, the tranquillity of these departments, and having
responded by the activity of our zeal to the confidence with which we have been honoured.
216 HISTORY OF THE
procured its aj)probaUon of their advice : and when the council had decided,
to the great satisfaction of Louis XVI., that the veto shoukl be affixed, he
added, as his opinion, that it wouhl be well to surround the person of the
King with priests who were not liable to suspicion. To this proposal Louis
XV'L, usually so flexible, manifested invincible obstinacy, and said that the
freedom of religious worship, decreed for everybody, ought to be allowed
to him as w'ell as to his subjects, and that he ought to have the liberty of
appointing about him such priests as he approved. The ministers did not
insist, and, without as yet communicating the circumstance to the Assembly,
the veto was decided upon.
The constitutional party, to wdiich the King seemed to consign himself
at this moment, broug-ht him a fresh reinforcement. This was the directory
of the department, which was composed of the most esteemed members of
the Constitutional Assembly. Among them were the Duke de Larouche-
foucault, the Bishop of Autun, Baumets, Desmeuniers, Ansons, &c. It
presented a petition to the King, not as an administrative body, but as a
meeting of petitioners, and called for the affixing of the veto to the decree
against the priests.
" The National Assembly," they said, " certainly meant well ; we love
to avenge it here on its guilty detractors ; but so laudable a design has pro-
pelled it towards measures of which neither the constitution, justice, nor
prudence can approve. It makes the payment of the pensions of all eccle-
siastics not in office depend on the taking of the civic oath, whereas the
constitution has expressly and literally classed those pensions with the
public debts. Now, can the refusal to take any oath whatever destroy the
tide of an acknowledged credit ! The Constituent Assembly has done what
it could do on behalf of the nonjuring priests ; they refused to take the pre-
scribed oath, and it has deprived them of their functions ; in dispossessing
them, it has reduced them to a pension. The Legislative Assembly pro-
poses that the ecclesiastics who have not taken the oath, or Avho have
retracted it, may, during religious disturbances, be temporarily removed, and
imprisoned if they fail to obey the order which shall be intimated to them.
Is not this renewing the system of arbitrary orders, since it permits the
punishing with exile, and soon afterwards with imprisonment, one who has
not yet been convicted of having oflended against any law ? The National
Assembly refuses all those who shall not take the civic oath the free exer-
cise of their religious worship. Now, this liberty cannot be wrested from
any person. It is guaranteed forever in the declaration of rights."
These reasons were certainly excellent, but it is impossible to allay with
argum.cnts either the animosities or the fears of parties. How persuade an
Assembly that it ought to permit refractory priests to excite disturbance and
civil war? The directory was abused, and its petition to the King was
combated by a multitude of others addressed to the legislative body. Ca-
mille Desmoulins presented a very bold petition at the head of a section ;
in which misht be already perceived an increasing violence of langiiage,
and a renunciation of all the respect hitherto paid to the authorities and to
the King. Desmoulins told the Assembly that a signal example was re-
qutred ; that the directory ought to be tried ; that it was the leaders who
ouglit to be prosecuted ; that it ought to strike at the head, and launch
thunderbolts at the conspirators ; that the power of the royal veto had a
limit, and that a veto would not prevent the taking of a Bastille.
Louis XVI., though determined to refuse his sanction, hesitated to ac-
quaint the Assembly with his resolution. He wished first, by certain acts,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 217
to conciliate the public opinion, lie selected his ministers from among the
constitutional party. Montniorin,* weary of his laborious career under the
Constituent Assembly, and of his arduous negotiations with all the parties,
could not be induced to encounter tlie storms of a new legislature, and had
retired in spite of the entreaties of the King. Tlie ministry for foreign
affairs, refused by several persons, was accepted by Delessart, who, in order
to assume it, relinquislu-d that of the interior. Delessart, an upright and
enlightened man, was under tlie inlluence of the Constitutionalists, or Feuil-
lans ; but he was too weak to fix the will of the King, and to overawe
foreign powers and domestic factions. Cahier de Gerville, a decided patriot,
but rather rough than persuasive, was appointed to tlie interior, to gratify
public opinion. Narbonne, a young man, full of activity and ardour, a
zealous constitutionalist, and who understood the art of making himself
popular, was placed at the head of the war department by tlie party which
then composed the ministry. He might have had a benelicial influence
upon the council, and reconciled the Assembly with the King, if he had not
had an adversary in Bertrand de MoUeville, a counter-rcvolutiouary minister,
who was preferred by the court to all the others.! Bertrand de MoUeville,
detesting the constitution, artfully wrapped himself up in the letter for the
purpose of attacking its spirit, and sincerely desired that the King woidd
attempt to execute it, "merely," as he said, "to prove that it was not
practicable." The King coidd not make up his mind to dismiss him, and
with this mixed ministry he endeavoured to pursue his course. After he
had endeavoured to gratify public opinion by these appfiintments, he tried
other means for attaching it to him still more ; and he appeared to accede to
all the diplomatic and military measures proposed against the assemblages
formed upon the Rhine.
The last repressive laws had been prevented by the veto, and yet e\ery
day fresh denunciations apprized the Assembly of the preparations and the
threats of the emigrants. The reports [proces-verbecatx) of the munici-
palities and departments on the frontiers, and the accounts given by com-
mercial men coming from beyond the Rhine, attested that the Viscount de
Mirabeau, brother of the celebrated member of the Constituent Assembly,
was at the head of six hundr(>d men in tlie bishopric of Strasliurg ; that, in
the territory of the elector of Mentz, and near Worms, there were numerous
corps of emigrants, under the command of the Prince of Conde ; that the
same was the case at Coblentz and throughout the whole electorate of
Treves ; that outrages and acts of violence had been committed upon
Frenchmen ; and lastly, that a proposal had been made to General \Yiin])fen
to deliver up New Brisach.
These accounts, in addition to many other circumstances that were matter
* "Of all the men who played an important part in the Rovolulion, M. de Montmorin is
perhaps the person who is least iinown, and has been judged with the greatest severity. He
was neither constitutionalist nor democrat, but a real royalist. The extreme weakness of
his charactrr prevented him from l)einn; useful to his majesty in eireuinslaiiees that re(|uired
much euorgy. This moral weakness had its source in a sickly constitution, and can P'^
more be imputed to him as a crime, than his being of a low stature, and slender frame of
boihr—fierlrandde Mo/leville. E.
•j- "Two of the ministers were zealous patriots; two others were moderate, but hooest;
the fifth, IJertrand de MoUeville, minfcler of the navv. was a decided aristocrat ; the sixth,
M. de Narboime, a c^hstitufiorialist, full of ardour and activity, 'i'he latter had cause to be
dissatisfied with I\l. llerirand. Narbonne was disj)leasing to the court, from the frankness
of his disposition, the patriotism of his conduct, and his attachment to Latayctle." — La-
fai/etles Memoirs. E.
VOL. I.— 28 T
218 HISTORY OF THE
of public notoriety, drove the Assembly to the last degree of irritation. A
decree was immediately proposed, to require of the electors the disarming
of the emigrants. The decision was deterred for two days, that it might
not appear to be too much hurried. After this delay the discussion com-
menced.
Isnard* was the first speaker. He insisted upon the necessity of in-
suring the tranquillity of the kingdom, not in a temporary, but in a durable
manner ; of overawing by prompt and vigorous measures, whicii should
attest to all Europe the patriotic resolutions of France. "Fear not," said
he, " to bring upon yourselves a war -with the great powers. Interest has
already decided their intentions. Your measures will not change them, but
will oblige them to explain themselves. The conduct of the Frenchman
ought to correspond with his new destiny. A slave under Louis XVI., he
was nevertheless intrepid and great. Now that he is free, ouglit he to be
weak and timid ? They are mistaken, said Montesquieu, who imaoino that
a people in a state of revolution are disposed to be conquered. They are
ready, on the contrary, to conquer others, {.^pplame.)
" Capitulations are proposed to you. It is proposed to increase the power
of the King — of a man whose will can paralyze that of the whole nation,
of a man who receives thirty millions, while thousands of citizens are
perishing from want ! [Fresh applause.) It is proposed to bring back the
nobility. Were all the nobles on earth to attack us, the French, holding
their gold in one hand and the sword in the other, would combat that
hauffhty race, and force it to endure the punishment of equality.
"Talk to the ministers, to the King, and to Europe, the language befitting
the representatives of France. Tell the ministers that, so far, you are not
satisfied with their conduct, and that by responsibility you mean death.
{Prolonged applause.) Tell Europe that you will respect the constitutions
of all other countries, but that, if a war of kings is raised against France,
you will raise a war of people against kings." The applause was here
renewed. " Say," he added, " that the battles which nations fight at the
command of despots are like the blows which two friends, excited by a per-
fidious instigator, strike at each other in the dark. The moment a light
appears they embrace, and take vengeance on him Avho deluded them. In
like manner, if. at the moment when the hostile armies shall be engaged
with ours, the light of philosophy bursts upon their sight, the nations will
emlirace one another before the face of dethroned tyrants, of consoled earth,
and of deliffhted Heaven !"
The enthusiasm excited by these words was such that the members
thronged around the speaker to embrace him. The decree which he sup-
ported was instantly adopted. M. de Vaublanc w^as directed to carry it to
* " M. Isnard, a wholesale perfumer at Draa^uicrnan. was deputed from Var to the legis-
lature ; and afterwards to the convention. His father, who was rich, had taken great pains
with his education. In 1793 he voted for the King's death, oliservin[;, that 'were the
lightnings of heaven in his hands, he would blast with them all those who should aUack
the sovereignty of the people.' Isnard was outlawed as a Girondin, on the fall of that |)arty,
but succeeded in making his escape, and, after the overtlirow of the Pvlountaineers, resumed
his seat in the Convention. Being then sent to the department of the Bouches du Rhone,
he there declaimed vehemently against the Terrorists, who afterwards accused him of having
encouraged the bloodv reprisals made on them in the South, and of having addressed the
people as follows : ' If you meet any Terrorists, strike them : if you have not arms, you
have sticks; if you have not sticks, dig up your parents, and with their bones knock down
the monsters!' In 1796, Isnard became a member of the Council of Five Hundred. In
1801 he published a work on the Immortality of the Soul." — Biographle Modcrne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 219
the King, at the head of a deputation of twenty-four members-. By this
dscree the Assembly dechu-ed tliat it considered it indispensably necessary
to require the electors of Treves and Mentz, and the other princes of the
empire, to break up die assemblages formed on the frontiers. At the same
time it prayed the King to accelerate the negotiations commenced respecting
the indemnities due to the princes who had possessions in Alsace.
M. de Vaublanc accompanied this decree with a firm and respectful
address, Avhich was hiirhly applauded by the Assembly. "Sire," said he,
" if the French, drivei\ from their country by the revocation of the edict of
Nantes, had assembled in arms on the frontiers, and had been protected by
German princes, we ask you, sire, whai would have been the conduct of
Louis XIV.? Would he have su tiered these assemblages ? What he would
have done for the sake of his authority, your majesty cannot hesitate to do
for the maintenance of the constitution."
Louis XVL, havinir determined, as we have said, to counteract the effect
of the veto by acts which should gratify public opinion, resolved to go to
the Assembly and personally reply to its message in a speech likely to
give it satisfaction.
On the 11th of December, in the evening, the King accordingly went, after
having announced his intention in the morning by a mere note. He said
that the message of the Assembly deserved mature consideration, and that,
in a circum.stance in which French honour was involved, he deemed it right
to come in person ; that, sharing the intentions of the Assembly, but dread-
ing the scourge of war, he had endeavoured to bring back the misled French ;
that friendly remonstrances having proved ineffectual, he had anticipated
the message of the representatives, and signified to the electors, that if,
before the 15th of January, the assemblage of troops should nothave ceased,
they should ])e considered as enemies of France; that he had written to the
emperor to claim his interference as head of the empire ; and that, in case
satisfaction were not obtained, he should propose war. He concluded Avith
saying that it would be vain to attempt to surround the exercise of his
aiithority with disgust ; that he Avould faithfully guard the deposit of the
constitution ; and that he deeply felt how glorious it was to be King of a
free people.
Applause succeeded the silence, and made the King amends for the
reception which he had experienced on entering. The Assembly having
resolved in the morning that he should be answered by a message, could
not immediately express its satisfaction, but gave orders that his speech
should be sent to the eighty-three departments. Narbonne soon allerwards
entered, to communicate the means which liad been adopted to insure the
effect of the intimations addressed to the empire. One hundred thousand
men were to be assembled on the Rhine ; and this, he added, was not
impossil)le. Three generals were appointed to command them, Luckner,
Rochambeau, and Lafayette.* The last name was received with applause.
• " T^urknor hail benn tlie most clisitingni.^hod pnrtisan of the sevpn years' wnr. After the
pence of 1763, tlie Duke of (Jhoii^cul drew him into our service. He was much attached to
the new constitution, hut witliout f)rclendinK to understand it; and when the .Iiicohins
wished to exalt his liberal opinions, he often en)barrasscd them by making the most absurd
blunders. He had not the ])ower of forming great combinations, but he had a quick eye,
the habit of military mctics. and all the activity of youth. Rochambeau, who had made his
fortune by arms, had lieen en^aiied in the war of Khuiders, and distint;uishcd himself also in
tlie seven years' wnr. He never lost si^ht of the points most important to the soldier's trade.
These two raarbhals had one fauU in common — ihey were too distrustful of their new and
220 HISTORY OF THE
»
Narbonne added that he should set out immediately to inspect the frontiers,
to ascertain the state of tlie fortresses, and to give the greatest activity to
defensive operations ; that no doubt the Assembly would grant the necessary
fund-^, and not cheapen liberty. Cries of " No, no," burst from all sides.
Lastly, he asked the Assembly if, though the legal number of marshals was
complete, it would not permit the King to confer that rank on the two gene-
rals, Luckner, and Rochambeau, who were charged to save liberty. Accla-
mations testified the consent of the Assembly and the satisfaction caused by
the activity of the young minister. It was by persevering in such conduct
that Louis XVL might have succeeded in gaining popularity and reconciling
the republicans, who wished for a republic solely because they believed the
King to be incapable of loving and defending liberty.
Advantage was taken of the satisfaction produced by these measures to
notify the veto affixed to the decree against the priests. Care was taken to
pulilish in the journals of the same morning, the dismissal of the former
diplomatic agents accused of aristocracy, and the appointment of new ones.
Owing to these precautions, the message was received without a murmur.
The Assembly, indeed, expected it, and the sensation was not so untavour-
able as might have been apprehended. AVe see how extremely cautious the
King was obliged to be in making use of his prerogative, and what danger
he incurred in employing it. Had the Constituent Assembly, which is
accused of having ruined by stripping him of his authority, conferred on
him the absolute veto, would he have been more powerful on that account?
Had not the suspensive veto in this case all the effect of the absolute veto"?
Was it legal power that the King lacked, or the power of opinion ? We
see, from the effect itself, that it was not the want of sufficient preroffa-
tives which ruined Louis XVL, but the indiscreet use of those which Avere
left him.
The activity promised to the Assembly was not delayed. The proposi-
tions for the expenses of the war and for the nomination of the two mar-
shals, Luckner, and Rochambeau, followed without interruption. Latayette,
forced from the retirement which he had sought, in order to recruit himself
after three years' fatigues, presented himself before flie Assembly, where
he was cordially received. Battalions of the national guard escorted him
on leaving Paris, and every thing proved to him that the name of Lafayette
was not forgotten, but that he was still regarded as one of the founders of
liberty.
Meanwhile Leopold, naturally peaceful, was not desirous of war, for he
knew tliat it was not consistent with his interests ; but he wished for a con-
gress backed by an imposing force, in order to bring about an accommoda-
tion and some modifications in the constitution. The emigrants wished not
to modify but to destroy it.* More prudent and better informed, the empe-
inexperienced troops. LafayeUe did not share this feeling. He augured better of the
enthusiasm for liberty, having been an American general officer at tlie age of nineteen.
With the exception of these three genenals, there was not an officer in the French army who
had ever fought at the head of two thousand men." — Lfifat/effe's Memoirs. E.
* "The emigrants were unanimous in their desire for an invasion, and in their exertions
at all foreign courts. M. de Caloniie, the principal agent of the princes, had publicly said at
Brussels, 'If the powers delay making war, we shall know how to make the French declare
it.' The King and Queen hesitated between various parties The Queen especially, who
would have consented to owe her deliverance to Austrian or even Prussian arms, was with-
held by her reluctance to lay herself under obligations to Monsieur, whom she never liked,
aud the Count d'Artois, whom she no longer liked. ''J'he Count d'Artois will tiien become
a hero !' she exclaimed, in a tone of bitterness," — Lafayeilt's Memoirs. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 221
ror knew that it was necessary to concede a great deal to tlie new opinions,
and tliat the utmost that could be expected was to restore to the King certain
prerogatives, and to modify the composition of the legislative body by the
establishment of two chamljers instead of one.*
* I have already had occasion to refer several times to the sentiments of Leopold, of Louis
XVI., and of the emigrants: I shall now quote some extracts, which will leave no doubt
respecting them. Bouille, who was abroad, and whose reputation and talents had caused
him to he courted by the sovereif^ns, had opportunities of learning better than any other per-
son the sentiments of the ditferent courts, and his testimony is above suspicion. In dillerent
parts of his Memoirs he thus expresses himself:
" It may be inferred from this letter that the King of Sweden was quite uncertain respect-
ing the real plans of the emperor and his allies, which ought then to have been not to inter-
fere any more in the affairs of France. The empress (of Russia) was no doubt informed of
Ihem, but she had not communicated them to him. I knew that at the moment she was
exerting all her influence with the emperor and the King of Prussia to induce them to declare
war against France. She had even written a very strong letter to the former of these sove-
reigns, in which she represented to him that the King of Prussia, for a mere incivility oifered
to his sister, had sent an army into Holland, whilst he (the emperor) patiently sulTered the
insults and afironts heaped upon the Queen of France, the degradation of her rank and dig-
nity, and the overthrow of the throne of a King, who was his brother-in-law and aliv. The
empress acted with the like energy towards Spain, which had adopted pacific (irinciplcs.
Meanwhile the emperor, after the acceptance of the constitution by the King, had received
the new ambassador of France, whom he had previously forbidden to appear at his court.
He was even the first to admit the national flag into his ports. 'J'he courts of Madrid,
Petersburg, and Stockholm, were the only ones which at this period withdrew their ambas-
sadors from Paris. All these circumstances tend to prove that the views of Leopold were
directed towards peace, and that they were the result of the influence of Louis XVI. and of
the Queen." — Menuvres ih Bouille, p. 314.
In another place Bouille says :
" Meanwhile several months elapsed without my perceiving any progress in the plans which
the emperor had entertained for assembling armies on the frontiers, for forming a congress,
and for opening a negotiation with the French government. I presumed that the King had
hoped that his acceptance of the new constitution would restore to him his personal liberty,
and re-establish tranquillity in the nation, which an armed negotiation might have disturbed ;
and that he had consequently prevailed upon the emperor and the other sovereigns, his allies,
not to take any step liable to produce hostilities, which he had constantly studied to avoid. I
was confirmed in this opinion by the unwillingness of the court of Spain to furnish the fifteen
millions of livres, which she had engaged to give him towards the expenses of his expedition.
This prince had prevailed on me to write on his behalf to the Spanish minister, from whom
I received only vague replies. I then advised the King of Sweden to open a loan in Holland,
or in the free maritime cities of the north, under the guarantee of Spain, whose dispositions,
however, in regard to the affairs of France, a[)pearcd to me to be changed.
'• I learned that the anarchy was daily increasing in France, and this was but too plainly
proved by the multitude of emigrants of all classes who sought refuge on the foreign frontiers.
They were armed and formed into regiments on the banks of the Rhine, and they composed
a little army which threatened the provinces of Alsace and Lorraine. These measures awakened
the fury of the people, and aided the destructive projects of the Jacobins and anarchists.
The emigrants had even planned an attem|)t upon Strasburg, where they imagined that they
had supporters who could be relied on, and partisans who would open the gates to them. The
King, who was informed of the scheme, employed commands and even entreaties to stop
them, and to prevent them from committing any act of hostility. To this end he sent to the
princes, his brothers, the Baron de Viomeiiil, and the Chevalier de Cogny, who signified to
them, in his name, his disapprobation of tiie arming of the French nobility, to which the
en)j>eror opposed all possible obstacles, but which was nevertheless continued.'' — Ibid.,
p. 309.
Lastly, Bouille gives, from the lips of Leopold himself, his plan of a congress:
"At length, on the 12ih of September, the Emperor Leopold sent me word to call on him,
and to bring with mtf^the plan of the arrangements for which he had previously asked me.
He desired me to step into his cabinet, and told me that he could not speak to me earlier on
the subject concerning which he wished to see me, because he was wailing for answers from
Russia, Spain, England, and the principal sovereigns of Italy ; that he had received them, and
t2
222 HISTORY OF THE
This last measure was the most dreaded, and it was with tlie plan of it
that the Feuillant or constitulioiial party was most I'requeiUly reproaclied.
It is certain that, if this party had, in tlie early time of the Constituent As-
sembly, opposed the upper chamlier, because it jusdy apprehended that t!ie
nobility would there intrench themselves, it had not now the same fears. On
the contrary, it had just hopes of filling such a chamber almost of itself.
Many constituents, reduced to mere ciphers, would there have found occa-
sion to appear again on the political stage. If then this upper chamber did
not accord v/ilh their views, still less did it accord with tlieir interests. It
is certain that the newspapers frequently adverted to it, and that this report
was universally circulated. How rapid had been the progress of the Revo-
lution ! The right side at this time was composed of members of the former
left side ; and the plan so dreaded and condemned, was not a return to the
old system but the estal)lishment of an upper chamber. AVhat a ditierence
from 1789 ! How swifdy a foolish resistance had hurried on events !
Leopold perceived then no other poss-ible amelioration for Louis XVI.
Meanwhile, his object was to protract the negotiations, and, without break-
ing with France, to awe her by his firmness. But this aim he thwarted by
his answer. This answer consisted in a notification of the resolutions of the
diet of Ratisbon, which refused to accept any indemnity for the princes wlio
had possessions in Alsace. Nothing could be more absurd than such a de-
cision ; for the whole territory subject to one and the same rule ought also
to be subject to the same laws. If princes of the empire had estates in
France, it was right that they sliould be comprehended in the abolition of
feudal rights, and the Constituent Assembly had done a great deal in grant-
ing indemnities for them. Several of those princes having already treated
on this point, the diet annulled tlieir agreements, and forbade them to accept
any composition. The empire thus pretended not to recognise the Revolu-
tion in as far as itself was concerned. AVith regard to the assemblao-cs of
they were conformable with his intentions and his plans; that he was assured of their assist-
ance in the execution, and of their agreement ; exceptinar. however, the cabinet of t^t. .luTnes's,
which had declared its determination to preserve the strictest neutrality. He had taken the
resolution to assemble a congress, to treat with the French government, not only concerning
the redress of the grievances of the Germanic body, whose rights in Alsace and in other parts
of the frontier provinces had been violated, but at the same time concernintr the means of
restoring order in the kingdom of France, the anarchy of which disturbed the tranquillity of
all Europe. He added, that this negotiation should be supported by formidaiile armies, with
which France would be encompassed ; that he hoped this expedient would succeed and pre-
vent a sanguinary war, the very last resource that he would employ. I took the liberty of
asking the emperor if he was informed of the real intentions of the King, He was acijiiainted
with them ; he knew that this prince disliked the employment of violent means. He told
me that he was, moreover, informed that the charter of the new constitution was to be pre-
sented to him in a few days, and that it was his opinion that the King could not avoid
accepting it without restriction, from the risks to which he would subject his life and the lives
of his family, if he made the least dilRculty, and if he hazarded the slightest observation ; but
that his sanction, forced at the time, was of no importance, as it was possible to rescind all
that should have been done, and to give France a good government, which should satisfy the
people, and leave to the royal authority a latitude of powers sufficient to maintain tranquillity
at home and to insure peace abroad. He asked me for the plan of disposition of the armies,
assuring me that he would examine it at leisure. He added, that I might return to Mentz,
where Count de Brown, who was to command his troops, and who was then in the Ni'thcr-
lands, would send word to me, as well as to Prince Kohenlohe, who was going into Franco-
nia, in order that we might confer together, when the time should arrive.
"I judged that the emperor had not adopted this pacific and extremely reasonable plan,
since the conference of Pilnitz, till he had consulted Louis XVI., who had constantly wished
for an arrangement, and to have recourse to negotiation rather than the violent expedient of
arms:'— Ibid., p. 299.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 223
emisrrants, Leopold, without eiilerinjr into explanation on the subject of their
disp^^rsion, answered Louis XV'L that, as tlis Elector of Treves miglit, ac-
cording to the intimations of the French government, be exposed to speedy
hostilities, he had ordered General Bonder to give him prompt assistance.
Nothing- could have been more injudicious than this answer. It obliged
Louis XVL, in order that he might not compromise himself, to adopt vigor-
ous measures and to propose war. Delessart was immediately sent to the
Assembly to communicate this answer, and to express tlie astonishment
which the King iblt at the conduct of Leopold. The minister alleged that
the emperor had probably been deceived, and that he had been falsely per-
suaded that the elector had performed all the duties of a friendly neighbour.
Delessart communicated also the reply returned to Leopold. It was inti-
mated to liim that, notwithstanding his answer and the orders given to Mar-
shal Bender, if the electors had not, by the time prescribed, namely, the 15th
of January, complied with the requisition of France, arms would be employed
against them.
"If," said Louis XVL, in his letter to the Assembly, "this declaradon
fails to produce the effect wliich I have reason to hope from it, if it is the
destiny of France to be obliged to fight her own children, and lier allies, I
will make known to Europe the justice of our cause: the French people
will uphold it by their courage, and the nation will see that I have no other
interest but its interest, and that I shall ever consider the maintenance of its
dignity and safety as the most essential of my duties."
These words, in which the King seemed in the common danger to unite
with the nation, were warmly applauded. The papers were delivered to
the diplomatic committee, with directions to make a speedy report upon
them to the Assembly.
The Queen was once more applauded at the Opera as in the days of her
splendour and her pow-er, and, quite overjoyed, she told her husband on her
return that she had been received as formerly. But this was the last homage
paid to her by a people Avhich had once idolized her royal graces. That
feeling of equality, which remains so long dormant in men, and which is so
capricious when it does awake, began already to manifest itself on all sides.
It was very near the conclusion of the year 1791 ; the Assembly abolished
the ancient ceremonial of new year's day, and decided that the homage paid
to the King on that solemn day should thenceforth cease. Just aljout the
same time, a deputation complained that the folding-doors of the council-
chamber had not been opened for it. The discussion was scandalous, and
the Assembly in writing to tlie Kinjr, suppressed the titles of sire and ma-
jesty. On another occasion, a deputy entered the King's apartment with
his hat on, and in a very unsuitable dress. This conduct was frequently
provoked by the rude reception iriven by the courtiers to the deputies ; and
in these reprisals the pride of both was determined not to be outdone.
Narbonne prosecuted his tour with extraordinary activity. Three armies
were formed on the threatened frontier. I?ochambeau, a veteran general,
who had formerl}'' displayed ability in war, but who was now ailinsr, ill-hu-
moured, and discontented, commanded the army stationed in Flanders, and
called the army of the North. Lafayette had the army of , the centre, and
was encamped near Metz. liuckncr, an old warrior, an ordinary general,
a brave soldier, ai^d very popular in the army for his exclusively military
manners, commanded the corps which occupied Alsace. These were all the
generals that a long peace and a general desertion had left us.
Rochambeau, dissatisfied with the new system, and irritated with the
224 HISTORY OF THE
want of discipline which prevailed in the army, was constantly complaining
and held out no hope to the ministers. Lafayette, young, active, and anx-
ious to distinguish himself forthwith in the defence of the country, re-esta-
l)lished discipline among his troops, and overcame all the difficulties raised
by the ill-will of the officers, who were the aristocrats of the army. He
called them together, and, addressing them in the language of honour, he
told them that they must quit the camp if they would not serve loyally ;
that, if any of them wished to retire, he would undertake to procure them
either pensions in France, or passports for foreign countries ; but that, if
they persisted in serving, he expected from them zeal and fidelity. In this
manner he contrived to introduce into his army better order than that which
prevailed in any of the others. As for Luckner, having no political opinion,
and being consequently indifferent to all systems, he promised the Assem-
bly a great deal, and actually succeeded in gaining the attachment of the
soldiers.
Narbonne travelled with the greatest expedition, and returned to give an
account of his rapid journey to the Assembly. He reported that the repair
of the fortresses was already considerably advanced ; that the army, from
Dunkirk to Besan^on, presented a mass of two hundred and forty battalions,
and one hundred and sixty squadrons, with artillery requisite for two hun-
dred thousand men, and supplies for six months. He bestowed the liighest
encomiums on the patriotism of the volunteer national guards, and declared
that in a short time their equipment would be complete. The young minis-
ter no doubt gave Avay to the illusions of zeal, but his intentions were so
noble, and his operations so prompt, that the Assembly loaded him with
applause, held forth his report to the public gratitude, and sent it to all the
departments — the usual way of expressing esteem for those with whom it
was satisfied.
War then was the great question of the moment. For the Revolution it
was a question of existence itself. Its enemies being now abroad, it was
there that it became necessary to seek and to conquer them. Would the King,
as chief of the armies, act cordially against his relatives and his former cour-
tiers ? Such was the doubt which it was of importance to clear up to the
satisfaction of the nation. This question of war was discussed at the
Jacobins, which suffered none to pass without pronouncing a sovereign de-
cision upon it. What will appear singular is, that the outrageous Jacobins,
and Robespierre, their leader, were in favour of peace, and the moderate
Jacobins, or Girondins, for war.* Brissot and liouvet were at their head.
Brissot advocated war with his talents and influence. He thought witli
Louvet and all the Girondins that it was desirable for the nation, because it
would put an end to a dangerous uncertainty, and unveil the real intentions
of the King. These men, judging of the result by their own enthusiasm,
could not believe that the nation would be contjuered ; and they thought
that if, through the fault of the King, it experienced any transient check,
it would instantly be enlightened and depose an unfaithful chief. How
happened it that Robespierre and the other Jacobins opposed a determina-
tion which must produce so speedy and so decisive a denouement? In
• " The Jacobins attached to Robespierre, were opposed to war, because they feared its
being directed by their political rivals, and also because several of them, from pecuniary inte-
rests, like Danton, or from causes of which they themselves were ignorant, were under the
puidancfi of that small party of the couit who were engaged in secret negotiations. The
Girondins, at that period, wished for war at any price, in the hope that it would facilitate
their vague projects of ambition." — Lafaydtts Memoirs. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 225
answer to this question nothing but conjectures can be offered. Was the
timid Robespierre afraid of war f Or did he oppose it only because Brissot,
his rival at the Jacobins, supported it, and because young Louvet had de-
fended it witli ability ? Be tliis as it may, he fought with extreme obstinacy
for peace. The Cordeliers, who were Jacobins, attended the discussion,
and supported Robespierre. They seemed more especially afraid lest war
should.give too many advantages to ITafayette, and soon procure for him
thfi._military dictatorship. This was the continual fear of Camille Desniou-
lins, who never ceased to figure him to himself at the head of a victorious
army, as in the Champ de Mars, crushing Jacobins and ('ordeliers. Louvet
and tlie Girondins attributed a dillerenl motive to the Cordeliers, and sup-
posed them to be hostile to Lafayette, because he was an enemy of the Duke
of Orleans, with whom they were said to be secretly united.
The Duke of Orleans, now again brought before the public by the suspi-
cions of his enemies rather than by the Revolution, was then nearly eclipsed.
At the commencement, his name miffht have had some weight, and he him-
self misht have conceived some hope of those to whom he lent it ; but
evcrvtliinir had since irrcatlv changed. Feelina- himself how much he was
out of his place in the popular party, he had endeavoured to obtain the par-
don of the court during the latter days of the Constituent Assembly, and had
been repulsed. Under the liCgislative, lie had been retained in tlie list of
admirals, and he had made fresh solicitations to the King. On this occa-
sion he was admitted to his presence, had a long conversation with him, and
was not unfavourably received. He was to return to the palace. lie re-
paired thither. The Queen's dinner was served, and numerous courtiers
were in attendance. No sooner wa^ he perceived than the most insulting
expressions were uttered. " Take care of tlie dislies !" was the general
crv, as though they had been afraid that he would throw poison into them.
They pushed him, trod on his toes, and obliged him to retire. As he went
down stairs, he received fresh insults, and departed in deep indignation,
conceiving tliat the King and Queen had prepared for him this humiliating
scene. They, however, were totally ignorant of it, and were extremely
shocked at the imprudence of the courtiers.* That prince had a right to be
* The following is Bertram] de Mollcville's account of this circumstance :
" I made a report on the same day to the council of the visit paid me by the Duke of Or-
leans and of our conversation. 'J'he King determined to receive him, and on the next day
he had a conversation with him of more than half an hour, with which iiis majesty ajipeareil
to us to bo much i)lcaspd. ' I think, like yon,' said the Kiii}^, ' that he is jx-rfectly sincere,
and that he will do all that lies in his power to repair the mischief which he has done, and
in which it is possible that he may not have taken so large a part as vvc have imagined.'
" On the following Sunday, became to the King's levee, where he met with the most hu-
miliating reception from the courtiers, who were ignorant of what had passed, and from the
royalists, who were in the habit of repairing to the palace in great numbers on that day, to
pay their court to the royal family. 'I'hey crowded around him, making believe to tread
upon his toes and to thrust him towards the door, so as to prevent him from entering. He
went down stairs to the (oiucen, whose table was already laid. The moment he appeared, a
cry was rai^^ed on all sides of Gentlemen, take care of the dishes! as though they had been
sure that his pockets were full of poison.
" The insulting niurmurs which his presence everywhere excited forced him to retire with-
out seeing the royal family. He was pursued to the C^ueen's staircase, where some one spat
on his head and several times u])on his coat. Kage and vexation were depicted in his face ;
and he left the palace convinced that the instigators of the outrages which he had received were
the King and Queen, ^ho knew nothing of the matter, and who indeed were extremely
angry about it. He swbre implacable haired against them, and kept but too faithfully this
horrible oath. I was at the palace that day, and witnessed all the circumstances that I have
here related." — Bcrtrand de MolkviUe, tome vi., p. 290. E.
VOL. I. — 29
226 HISTORY OF THE
more exasperated than ever, but he certainly became neither a more active
nor a more able party -leader than before. His friends at the Jacobins and
in the Assembly, no doubt, thought fit to make a little more noise ; hence it
was supposed that his faction was again raising its head, and it was thought
that his pretensions and his hopes were renewed by the dangers of the
throne.
The Girondins imagined that the extreme Cordeliers and Jacobins advo-
cated peace with no other view than to deprive Lafayette, the rival of the
Duke of Orleans, of the reputation which war might give him. Be this as
it may, war, deprecated by the Jacobins, but supported by the Girondins,
could not fail to be adopted by the Assembly, in which the latter had the
ascendancy. The Assembly began by putting under accusation, from tlie
first of January, Monsieur, the King's brother, the Count d'Artois,* the
Prince of Conde, Calonne, Mirabeau the younger,tand Lequeille, as charged
with the commission of hostilities against France. As a decree of accusa-
tion was not submitted to the King for his sanction, no veto was in this case
to be apprehended. The sequestration of the property of the emigrants,
and the application of their revenues to the benefit of the state, enacted by
the unsanctioned decree, were prescribed anew by another decree, to which
the King made no opposition. The Assembly took possession of the reve-
nues as indemnities for the war. Monsieur was deprived of the regency
by virtue of the resolution previously adopted.
The report of the last despatch of the emperor was at length presented
to the Assembly by Gensonne. He represented that France had always
lavished her treasures and her troops for Austria without ever obtaining any
return; that the treaty of alliance concluded in 1756 had been violated by
the declaration of Pilnitz, and the subsequent declarations, the object of
which was to raise up an armed coalition of sovereigns ; that this had like-
wise been done by the arming of the emigrants, permitted and even seconded
by the princes of the empire. Gensonne, moreover, insisted that, though
orders had recently been given for the dispersion of such assemblages, those
apparent orders had not been executed ; that the white cockade had not
ceased to be worn beyond the Rhine, the national cockade to be insulted,
and French travellers maltreated ; that, in consequence, it behoved the As-
sembly to demand of the emperor a final explanation relative to the treaty
of 1756. The report was ordered to be printed, and the consideration of
it adjourned.
• Monsieur, afterwards Louis the Eighteenth, who died in the year 1824. Count
d'Artois, afterwards Charles the Tenth, who died in exile at Gratz, in Styria, in the year
1836. E.
I " Vicompte de Boniface de Riquetti Mirabeau was brother of the famous Mirabeau, and
served with distinction in America. His celebrated relative said of him one day, ' In any
other family the Vicompte would be a good-for-nothing fellow and a genius : in ours, he is
a blockhead and a worthy man.' In 1789 the younger Mirabeau was deputed to the States-
general, and defended his order with an energy equal to that with which his brother attacked
it. On one occasion, when he had kept possession of the tribune above an hour, the latter,
after the sitting was concluded, went to his house, and gently reproached him with often
drinking to excess, which led him into unpleasant embarrassments. ' What do you com-
plain of!' answered the Viscount, laughing ; ' this is the only one of all the family vices that
you have left me.' In 1790 the younger Mirabeau emigrated, levied a legion, and served
under the Prince of Conde. His singular conformation had gained him the nickname of
' Hogshead ;' and indeed he was almost as big as he was tall, but his countenance was full
of intelligence. In the beginning of the Revolution he wrote a satire entitled the ' Magic
Lantern,' and left behind him a collection of tales the versification of which is sprightly and
igraceful." — Biographic Moderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 227
On the same day, January 14, 1792, Guadet ascended the tribune. " Of
all tlie facts," said he, "communicated to the Assembly, that by which it
has been most struck is the plan of a congress to be assembled for the pur-
pose of obtaining the modification of the French constitution — a plan long
suspected, and at length denounced as possible by the committees and the
ministers. If it be true," added Guadet, " that tliis intrigue is conducted
by men who fancy that tliev discover in it tiie means of emerging from that
political non-entity into wliich tiiey have just sunk; if it be true that some
of the agents of the executive power are seconding with all the influence
of their connexions this abominable plot; if it be true that they think to
bring us by delay and discouragement to accept this ignominious mediation —
ought the National Assembly to shut its eyes to such dangers ? Let us
swear," exclaimed the speaker, " to die all of us on this spot, rather . . . ."
He was not allowed to finish: the wliole Assembly rose, crying, " Yes, yes,
we swear it;" and withenlhusiasin it declared every Frenchman who should
take part in a congress the object of which was to modify the constitution,
infamous and a traitor to his country. It was more especially against the
members of the late Constituent Assembly, and Delessart, the minister, that
this decree was directed. It was Delessart who was accused of protracting
the negotiations. On the 17th, the discussion on Gensonne's report was
resumed, and it was resolved that the King should not treat further, unless
in the name of the French nation, and that he should require of the empe-
ror a definite explanation before the 1st of March ensuing. The King
replied that it was more than a fortnight since he had demanded positive
explanations from Leopold.
During this interval, news arrived that the Elector of Treves, alarmed at
the urgency of the French cabinet, had issued fresh orders for the dispersion
of the assemblages of troops, for the sale of the magazines formed in his domi-
nions, and for prohibiting recruiting and military exercises ; and that these
orders were, in fact, carried into execution. In the then prevailing disposi-
tion, this intelligence was coldly received. The Assembly would not regard
these measures in any other light than as emptv demonstrations without re-
sult : and persisted in demanding the definitive answer of Leopold.
Dissensions existed in the ministry between Bertrand de Molleville and
Narboime. Bertrand was jealous of the popularity of the minister at war,
and found fault with his condescension to the Assembly. Narbonne com-
plained of the conduct of Bertrand de Molleville and of his unconstitutional
sentiments, and wished that the King would dismiss him from the ministry.
Cahier de Gerville held the balance between them, l)ut without success. It
was alleged that the constitutional party were desirous of raising Narbonne
to the dignity of prime minister ; it would even appear that the King was
imposed upon, that the popularity and the ambition of Narbonne were em-
ployed as bugbears to frighten him, and that he was represented to him as
a presumptuous younsf man who wanted to govern the cabinet. The news-
papers were informed of these dissensions, Brissot and the Gironde
warmly defended the minister who was threatened with disgrace, and as
warmly attacked his colleagues and tlie King. A letter, written by the three
generals of the north to Narbonne, in which thcv expressed their apprehen-
sions respecting his dismissal, wiiich was said to be near at hand, was pul>-
lished. The King, irritated at this, immediately dismissed him; but, to
counteract the effect nf this dismissal, he declared his determination to remove
Bertrand de Molleville also. The effect of the first, however, was not
weakened by the latter step. It excited an extraordinary sensation, and the
228 HISTORY OF THE
Assembly resolved to declare, agreeably to tlie form previously adopted in
Necker's case, that Narhonne carried with him the confidence of the nation,
and that the entire ministry had lost it. From that condemnation, however,
it proposed to except Cahier de Gerville, who had always been hostile to
Bertrand de MoUevdle, and who had even just had a violent quarrel with
him. After much agitation, Brissot oHered to prove that Delessart had be-
trayed the confidence of the nation. This minister had communicated to the
diplomatic committee his correspondence with Kaunitz. It was witliout
dignity, and even gave Kaunitz a very unfavourable notion of the state of
France, and seemed to have authorized the conduct and the language of
Leopold. It should be observed that Delessart and his colleague, Duj)ont-
Dutertre, were the two ministers who belonged more particularly to the Feuil-
lans, and wlio were most disliked, because they were accused of favouring
the plan of a congress.
In one of the most stormy sittings of the Assemldy, the unfortunate De-
lessart was accused by Brissot of having compromised the dignity of the
nation, of having neglected to apprize the Assembly of the concert of the
powers and the declaration of Pilnitz ; of having professed unconstitutional
doctrines in liis notes : of having given Kaunitz a false notion of the state
of France ; of having protracted the negotiation, and conducted it in a man-
ner contrary to the interests of the country. Vergniaud joined Brissot, and
added new grievances to those imputed to Delessart. lie reproaclied him
for having, when minister of the interior, kept too long in liis portfolio the
decree which incorporated the Comtatwith France, and thus having caused
the massacres at Avignon.* " From this tribune from which I address you,"
added Vergniaud, "may be seen the palace where perverse advisers mislead
and deceive the Kino- whom the constitution has given us. I see the win-
dows of the palace wliere they are hatching counter-revolution, where they
are combining the means of plunging us back into slavery. In ancient times
terror has often stalked forth in the name of despotism from this famous
palace ; let us now return thither, in the name of the law; let it there seize
every heart ; let all those who dwell in it know that our constitution grants
inviolability to the King alone."
The decree of accusation was immediately put to the vote and carried.
Delessart was sent to the high national court, established at Orleans, whieli
was empowered by the constitution to try crimes against the state. The
King felt the greatest pain at his departure. He had given him his confi-
dence, and been delighted with his moderate and pacific sentiments. Duport-
Dutertre, minister of the constitutional party, was also threatened with an
accusation, but he anticipated it, demanded permission to justify himself,
was absolved by the order of the day, and immediately afterwards resigned.
Cahier de Gerville also gave in his resignation, and thus the King found
himself deprived of the only one of his ministers who had a reputation for
patriotism with the Assembly.
* "On Sunday, the 30th of October, 1791, the gates were closed, the walls guarded so as
to render escape impossible, and a band of assassins, commanded by the barbarous Jourdan,
sought out in their own houses the individuals destined for death. Sixty unhappy wretches
were speedily thrust into prison, where, during the obscurity of the night, the murderers
wreaked their vengeance with impunity. One young man put fourteen to death with his
own hand, and only desisted from excess of fatigue! Twelve women perished, after having
undergone tortures which my pen cannot describe. When vengeance had done its worst,
the remains of the victims were torn and mutilated, and heaped up ifi a ditch, or thrown into
the Rhone." — Lacreklle. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 229
Separated from the ministers whom the FciiiUans had given him, and not
knowing to whom to cling amidst this storm, Louis XVI., who had diMiiissed
NarI)onne because he was too popular, thought of connecting himself with
the Gironde, which was republican. It is true that it was so only from dis-
trust of the King; and it was possible that, when he had once committed
himself to this parly, it might attach Jtself to him. But it would have been
requisite that he should give himself up sincerely ; and that everlasting
question of sincerity arose here as on all other occasions. No doubt liOuis
XVI. was sincere when he consigned himself to a party, but it was not with-
out ill-humour and regret. Thus, when this party imposed upon him a diffi-
cult but necessary condition, he rejected it. Distrust instantly sprang up,
animosity followed, and very soon a rupture was the consequence of those
unhappy alliances between iiearts which were exclusively occupied by two
opposite interests. Thus it was that Louis XVI., after admitting the Feuil-
lanl party to his presence, had, in a fit of ill-humour, dismissed Narbonne,
wlio was its most conspicuous chief, and now found himself reduced to the
necessity of giving himself up to the Gironde, in order to allay the storm.
The example of England, where the King frequently takes his ministers
from the opposition, was one of the motives of Louis XVI. Tiie court then
conceived a hope — for people cannot help forming hopes, even in the most
gloomy conjectures, that Louis XVI., by taking incapable and ridiculous
demagogues, would ruin the reputation of the party from which he should
have selected them. This hope, however, was not realized ; and the new
ministry was not such as the malice of the courtiers would have desired, /
Above a month before this time, Delessart and Narbonne had selected a /
man whose talents they held in high estimation, and placed him near them *
for the purpose of availing themselves of his abiliues. This was Dumouriez,
who, having successfully commanded in Normandy and in La Vendee, had
everywiicre displayed extraordinary firmness and intelligence. He had first
offered himself to the court, and then to the Constituent Assembly, because
all parties were the same to him, provided he had opportunities to exercise
his activity and his superior talents. Dumouriez, kept down by the times
in which he lived, had spent part of his life in diplomatic intrigues. With
his bravery, and his military and political genius, he was still, at the age of
fifty, and at the commencement of the Revolution, only a brilliant military
adventurer.* He had nevertheless retained the fire and tiie hardihood of
youth, and, as soon as there appeared a prospect of war or a revolution, he
formed plans and addressed them to all the parties, ready to act for any,
provided he could but act. He was thus accustomed not to take any account
of the nature of a cause; but though too litde swayed by conviction, he was
generous, sensible, and capable of attachment, if not for principles, at least
for persons. Yet, with such a jrracefid, prompt, and comprehensive mind,
and courage alternately calm an<l impetuous, he was admirable for serving,
but incapable of directing. He had neither the dignity of a profound con-
• "The following expressions paint Dumouriez completely. 'Honour to the patriots
who took the Bastille !' he exclaims in his Memoirs ; yet a few page^ after, we find that
being at Caen, in 1789, when an insurrection was feared in Paris, he composed a memorial
on the best means of maintaining order, and defending the Bastille!' A sister of the famous
emigrant Rivarol was Dumouriez's mistress. The son of a commissary of war, known by the
poem of 'Richardet,' Dumouriez had been wounded during the seven years' war, and was
much engaged in the secret correspondence, a sort of diplomatic system ot e-^pionnase, of
which Louis XVL had given the superintendence to the Count de Broglie." — Lafayette's
Memoirs. E.
u
230 HISTORY OF THE
viction nor the pride of a despotic will, and he could command none but
soldiers. If with his genius, he had possessed the passsions of a Mirabeau,
or the resolution of a Cromwell, or merely the dogmatism of a Robespierre,
he might have directed the course of the Revolution, and France.
No sooner was Dumouriez connected with Narbonne, than he formed a
vast military plan. He was at once for offensive and defensive war.
Wherever France extended to her natural limits, the Rhine, the Alps, the
Pyrenees, and the sea, he proposed that she should confine herself to the
defensive. But in the Netherlands, where our territory did not extend to
the Rhine, and in Savoy, where it did not extend to the Alps, he proposed
that we should attack immediately, and that, on reaching the natural limits,
Ave should resume the defensive. This would have been reconciling at
once our interests with our principles, as it would have been profiting by a
war which we had not provoked, to return on the score of boundaries to
the genuine laws of nature. Dumouriez proposed a fourth army, destined
to occupy the South, and applied for the command of it, which was pro-
mised him.
Dumouriez had gained the good-will of Gensonne, one of the civil com-
missioners sent into La Vendee by the Constituent Assembly, afterwards
a deputy to the Legislative Assembly, and one of the most influential mem-
bers of the Gironde. He had remarked, moreover, that the .Tacobins were
the predominating power. He had attended their club and read several
memorials which had been highly applauded, but had nevertheless kept up
his former intimacy with Delaporte, intendant of the civil list, and a devoted
friend of Louis XVL Connected thus with the different powers which
Avere on the point of uniting, Dumouriez could not fail to carry all before
him and to be caMed to the ministry. Louis XVL offered him the portfolio
of foreign affairs, Avhich the decree of accusation against Delessart had just
rendered vacant; but, still attached to the accused minister, the King ofiered
it only ad interim. Dumouriez, feeling that he was powerfully supported,
and disliking to appear to keep the place for a Feuillant minister, refused
the portfolio, and obtained it without an ad interim stipulation. He found
only Cahier de Gerville and Degraves in the ministry. Cahierde Gerville,
though he had given in his resignation, had not yet relinquished duties.
Degraves had succeeded Narbonne. He was young, easy, and inexperienced.
Dumouriez contrived to ffain him, and thus he held in his hands the foreig^n
relations and the military administration of the war. Nothing else would
liave satisfied his enterprising spirit.
No sooner had he attained the ministry than Dumouriez put on the red
cap at the Jacobins — a new distinction borrowed from the Phrygians, and
Avhich had become the emblem of liberty. He promised to govern for
them and by them. On being presented to Louis XVL, he pacified him
respecting his conduct at the Jacobins. He removed the prejudices which
that conduct had excited ; he had the art to touch him by testimonies of
attachment, and to dispel his gloomy melancholy by his wit. He persuaded
him that if he sought popularity it was only for the benefit of the throne
and for the purpose of strengtliening it. But, notwithstanding all his
deference, he took care to make the prince sensible that the constitution Avas
inevitable, and endeavoured to console him by striving to prove that with it
a King might still be very powerful. His first despatches to the powers,
full of sound reason and firmness, changed the nature of the negotiations,
and gave France quite a new attitude, but rendered war imminent. It was
natural that Dumouriez should desire war, since he had a genius for it, and
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 231
had meditated thirty-six years on that great art : but it must also be admitted
that the conduct ot the cabinet of Vienna, and the irritation of the Assem-
bly, had rendered it inevitable.
Duniouriez, from his conduct at the Jacobins and his known connexion
with the Ciironde, could not, even without any hatred against the Feuillans,
help embroiling himself with them. Besides, he had displaced them. He
was, therefore, in continual opposition to all the chiefs of that party.
Braving the sarcasms and the contempt which they levelled against the
Jacobins and the Assembly, he determined to pursue his career with his
accustomed assurance.
It was necessary to complete the ministry. Petion, Gensonne, and
Brissot, were consulted respecting the persons to be selected. According to
the daw, the ministers could not be taken either from the present or from the
last Assembly : the choice, therefore, was extremely limited. Dumouriez,
proposed for the marine, Lacoste,* who had formerly been employed in that
department, an industrious and experienced man, an obstinate patriot, who
nevertheless was attached to the King, was esteemed by him, and remained
about him longer than all the others. It was further proposed to give the
ministry of justice to young Louvet, who had I'ccently distinguished himself
at the Jacobins, and who had won the favour of the Gironde, since he had
so ably supported tlie opinion of Brissot in favour of war. The envious
Robespierret caused him to be immediately denounced. Louvet successfully
justified himself; but, as it was not deemed right to take one whose popu-
larity was contested, Duranthon,j an advocate of Bordeaux, an enlightened,
upright, but weak man, was sent for. The ministry of the finances and
of the interior yet remained to be filled up. The Gironde again proposed
Clavieres,§ who was known by some highly-esteemed works on finance.
The minister appointed to the interior Avas Roland, !| formerly inspector of
* " Lacoste was a true jack-in-office of the old order of thintrs, of which he had the in-
significant and awkward look, cold manner, and dogmatic tone. He was deficient both in the
extensive views and activity necessary for a minister." — Memoirs of Madame Roland. E.
f " I once conversed," says Madame de Stael, " with Robespierre at my father's house, in
1789. His features were mean, his complexion pale, his veins of a greenish hue." Speaking
of the same demagogue, Dumont observes, " I had twice occasion to converse with Robes-
pierre. He had a sinister expression of countenance, never looked you in the face, and had
a continual and unpleasant winking of the eyes." E.
^ " Duranthon was born at Massedon, in 17.36. In December, 179.3, he was dragged before
the revolutionary tribunal, and guillotined." — " He was an honest man," says Madame Roland
in her Memoirs, "but very indolent; his manner indicated vanity, and his timid disposition
and pompous prattle made him always appear to me no better than an old woman." E.
§ " Claviores was born at Geneva, in 1735, where," says M. Uumont, "he became one of
the popular leaders ; shrewd and penetrating, he obtained the credit of being also cunning
and artful ; he was a man of superior intellect ; deaf from his youth, and deprived by this
infirmity of the pleasures of society, he had soueht a compensation in study, and formed his
education, by associating politics and moral philosophy with trade, being denounced by
Rol)esj)ierre, to avoid the guillotine he stabbed himself in prison, June 9, 1793. His wife
poisoned herself on the following day." — Scott's Life of Napoleon, E.
II "J. M. Roland de la Plaliere, born at Villefranche, near I,yons, of a fiimily distinguished
in the law for its integrity, was the youngest of five brothers, left orphans and without
fortune. In order to avoid entering into the church, like his elder brother, he left home at
the age of nineteen ; went to Rouen, engaged in the direction of the manufactories, dis-
tinguished himself by his love of study, and his taste for commercial subjects, and obtained
the place of inspector-general, first at Amiens, and then at Lyons. He travelled through a
great part of Europe, and during the Revolution sided with the Girondins. He made great
elTorts, but in vain, ^ stop the September nia.ssacres. In 1793 he signed the order for the
King's execution, and was soon afterwards involved in the fall of his party. He however
232 HISTORY OF THE
manufactories, wlio liad distiii<ruisliecl liiinseir by some excellent publica-
tions on industry and tlio nieohanical arts. This man, with austere manners,
inllexible opinions, and a cold, forbidding look, yielded, without being aware
of it, to the superior ascendency of his wife. Madame Roland was young
and beautiful. IJred in the depths of retirement, and imbued with pliilo-
sophic and republican ideas, she had conceived notions superior to those
of her sex, and had formed a severe religion out of the tlien prevailing
priai;iples. Living in the closest friendshij) with her liusl)and, she lent him
her pen, communicated to him a portion of her own vivacity, infused her
own ardour not only into him but into all the Girondins, who, entiiusiasts
for liberty and philosopiiy, admired her beauty and intelligence, and were
inlluenced by her opinions, which were in fact their own opinions. ■■
The new ministry comprehended abilities great enougli for its prosperity :
but it behoved it not to displease Louis XVL, and to keep up its alliance
Avith the (iironde. It miglit then prove adequate to its task; but if blunders
of individuals were to be added to the incompatibility of the parties which
liad united, all woidd be lost — and this was what could not fail to happen
very speedily. liOuis XVL, struck by the activity of his ministers, by their
good intentions, and by their talent for business, was for a moment delighted,
especially with their economical reforms; for lie had always been fond of
that kind of improvement wliich required no sacrifice cither of power or
of principle. If he could always have felt the confidence whicli he did
then, and iiave separated himself from the hangers-on of the court, he
might easily have reconciled iiimself to the constitution. This he repeated
with sincerity to the ministers, and succeeded in convincing the two most
(liHicult, Roland and Clavieres. The persuasion was complete on both
sides. The Gironde, which was republican solely from distrust of the
King, ceased then to be so ; and Vergniaud, Gensonne, and Guadet, entered
into correspondence with Louis XVL, which was subsequently one of the
contrived to escape to Rouen, hut, as soon as he heard of his wife's execution, he resolved
not to survive her ; and, having left his asylum in the evening, he went along the road to
Paris, sat down against a tree, and stablied himself with a sword that he had brought with
him in a cane. He killed himself so quietly that he did not change his attitude; and the
next day the people who passed by thought he was asleep. A paper was found about him
couched in these terms: ' Whoever you may be that find me lying here, respect my remains;
they are those of a man who devoted all his life to l)eing useful, and who died as he lived,
virtuous and honest. Not fear but indignation has made me quit my retreat; when I learned
that my wife had been massacred, I would not remain any longer in a world stained with
crimes.' Roland was of an irascible temper, and deeply versed in the ancient and most of
the modern languages." — Hr'ngraphie Moderne. E.
* " AI. ,1. Philipon Madame Koland, was born at Paris in ITS-l. She was the daughter
of a dislinguislied engraver who had ruined his fortune by dissipation. At nine years old
she made au analysis of Plutarch. In 1780, she married Roland, then inspector of the
manufactories. In 1792, having af)peared at the bar of the National Convention, to give
information concerning a denunciation, she spoke with remarkable grace and dignity, and
was admitted to the honours of the sitting. In 1793, she was condemned to death together
with other of the (lirondins. She went to execution with ironj' and disdain on her lips;
and on reaching the Place de la Revolution, she bowed to the statue of liberlv, exclaiming,
'O Liberty, how many crimes are connnitted in tby name!' She was thirty-nine years of
age. Without being beautiful, she had a sweet and artless countenance, and elegant figure.
Her large black eyes were full of expression; her voice was musical; and her conversation
peculiarly attractive. Her mind was well stored with knowledge, but she was too much
addicted to satire." — Hioi^rap/iie Madrne. E.
Condorcet, alluding to Madame Roland's influence over her husband, used to say, " \A'hcn
I wish to see the minister of the interior, I can never get a glimpse of anything but the
petticoats of his wife." — History oftlie Cunventiun. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 233
charges in the accusaUnn preferred aiiaiiist lliem. The inflexible wife ol"
Rohmd was alone clouhlt'ul, and kept l)aelv her friends, who were too ready,
as she said, to surrender themselves. The reason of her distrust is natural.
She never saw the Kino-. 'I'lie ministers, on the other hand, had daily inter-
views with iiim, and honest men, wlien they meet, soon feel satisfied with
one anotlier. But this confidence could not last, because inevitable ques-
tions were on the point of displaying the wide dilTerence of their opinions.
Tiie court strove to tlirow ridicule on the somewliat republican simplicity
of the new ministry, and on the unpolished rudeness of Roland, wiio ap-
peared at the palace without buckles to his shoes.* Dumouriez returned
these sarca-^ms, and, minii:lin<i- mirlli with tlie most serious l)usiness, pleased
the King-, charmed liim by his wit, and perhaps, too, suited liini belter than
the others from the flexibility of his opinions. The Queen, perceiving that
lie had more influence over the mind of liie monarch than any of his col-
leagues, was desirous of seeing him. lie has recorded in his memoirs tliis
extraordinary interview, whicli shows the agitation of that princess, worthy
of another reign, oUier friends, and another fate.
On being ushered into the Queen's apartment, he found her, he says,
alone, her face much flushed, walking hastily to and fro, with an agitation
-which seemed to betoken a warm explanation. He was going to post him-
self at tlie corner of the fire-place, painfidly aOected at tlie state of diis
princess, and tlie terrible sensations from whicli she was suflering. She
advanced towards him widi a majestic air and angry look, and said, "Sir,
you are all-powerful at this moment, but it is through the favour of the peo-
])le, who soon break tlieir idols in pieces. Your existence depeiuls on your
conduct. It is said that you possess great abilities. You must be aware
that neidier the King nor myself can endure all these innovations on the
constitution. This 1 tell you frankly : choose your side."
"Madam," he replied, " I am deeply pained by the secret which your
majesty has just imparted to tne. I will not betray it; but I stand between
the King aiul tlie nation, and I belong to my country. Permit me to repre-
sent to you that the welfare of the King, your own, and that of your august
children, is linked with the constitution, as well as the re-establishment of
legitimate authority. I should do you disservice and the King too, if I were
to liold any other language. You arc both surrounded by esiemies wdio are
sacrificing you to their private interest. The constitution, when once it
shall be in vigour, so far from bringing misery upon the King, will ccmstitute
liis happiness and his glorv. It is absolutely necessary that he sluudd con-
cur in establishing it solidly and speedily." 'i'he unfortunate Queen, shocked
at this contradiction of her opinicuis, raising her voice, angrily exclaimed,
" 'J'hat will not last. Take care of yourself!"
Dumouriez rejoined with modest firmness, "jMadam,I am past fifty; my
life has been crossed by many perils, aiul, in accepting the ministry, I was
tlmrouH-hly sensible that responsibility is not the greatest of my dangers." —
" Nothing more was wantin<i," she cried with deep chagrin, " Init to calum-
niate me. You seem to think me capable of causing you to be murdered,"
and tears trickled from her eyes.
* "The first time that liulatKl presented him.'-eU'iil the palace, he was drossn! with strings
in his shoes, and a round hat. 'J'he master of the ceremonies refused to admit him in such
an unwonted costume, not knowina; who he was: beiiiir afterwards informed, and in conse-
quence oljliced to do so, he turned to Dumouriez, and said with a si^h, ' Ah, sir, no buckles
in his shoes !' — ' Alkfis lost !' replied the minister for foreign allairs with sarcastic irony." —
Alison. E.
VOL. I. — 30 u 3
23-1 HISTORY OF THE
"God preserve me," said Dumouriez, as much agitated as herself, "from
doing you so cruel an injury! The character of your majesty is great and
noble; you have given heroic proofs of it, which I have admired, and which
have attached me to you." At this moment she became more calm and
drew nearer to him. lie continued : " Believe me, madam, I have no inte-
rest in deceiving you. I abhor anarchy and crime as much as you do.
This is not a transient popular movement, as you seem to think. It is an
almost unanimous insurrection of a mighty nation against inveterate abuses.
Great factions fan this flame. In all of them there are villains and madmen.
In the Revolution I keep in view only the King and the entire nation ; all
that tends to part them leads to their mutual ruin ; I strive as much as pos-
sible to unite them ; it is for you to assist me. If I am an obstacle to your
designs, if you persist in them, tell me so ; I will instantly send my resig-
nation to the King, and hide myself in some corner, to mourn over the fate
of my country and over your's."
The concluding part of this conversation entirely restored the confidence
of the Queen. They reviewed together the different factions ; he pointed
out to her the blunders and crimes of all ; he proved to her that she was be-
trayed by those about her ; and repeated the language held by persons in
her most intimate confidence. The princess appeared in the end to be
entirely convinced, and dismissed him wuth a serene and affable look. She
•was sincere ; but those around her and the horrible excesses of the papers
written by Marat* and the Jacobins soon drove her back to her baneful
resolutions.
* "J. P. Marat, born in 1744, of Calvinist parents, was not five feet high; his face was
hideous, and his head monstrous for hi« size. From nature he derived a daring mind, an
ungovernable imagination, a vindictive temper, and a ferocious heart. He studied medicine
before he settled in Paris, where he was long in indigence. At last he obtained the situation
of veterinary surgeon to the Count d'Artois. At the period of the Revolution, his natural
enthusiasm rose to delirium, and he set up a journal entitled ' The People's Friend,' in which
he preached up revolt, murder and pillage. In 1790 Lafayette laid siege to his house, but
he found an asylum in that of an actress who was induced by her husband to admit him. In
the dilYerent searches made after him, the cellars of his partisans, and the vaults of the Cor-
deliers' church successively gave him shelter, and thence he continued to send forth his jour-
nal. In August Marat became a member of the municipality ; was one of the chief instigators
of the September massacres, and even proposed to Danton to set the prisons on lire. Several
deputies pressed the Assembly to issue a warrant for his arrest, but they could not obtain it,
for Danton and Robespierre were his supporters. On one occasion Marat said to the people,
' Massacre 270,000 partisans of the former order of things!' Soon afterwards he was made
president of the Jacobin society. Marat was stabbed to the heart, while in the bath, by
Charlotte Corday. He had some talent ; wrote and spoke with facility, in a diffuse, incohe-
rent, but bold and impassioned manner. After his death, honours almost divine were paid
him ; and in the Place du Carrousel a sort of pyramid was raised in celebration of him, within
which were placed his bust, his bathing-tub, his writing-desk, and lamp ; and a sentinel was
posted there, who one night died either of cold or horror. Eventually, however, France
indignantly broke his bust, tore his remains from the Pantheon, and dragged them through
tlie mud." — Biographie Modem''. E.
'J'he following description of Marat is full of graphic energy : "Marat's political exhorta-
tions began and ended like the howl of a bloodhound for murder. If a wolf could have
written a journal, the gaunt and famished wretch could not have ravened more eagerly for
slaughter. It was blood which was Marat's constant demand ; not in drops from the breast
of an individual, not in puny streams from the slaughter of families ; but blood in the profusion
of an ocean. We are inclined to believe that there was a touch of insanity in this unnatural
ferocity ; and the wild and squalid features of the wretch appear to have intimated a degree
of alienation of mind. Uanton murdered to glut his rage ; Robespierre, to avenge his injured
vanity, or to remove a rival whom he hated ; Marat, from the same instinctive love of blood
which induces a wolf to continue his ravages of the flocks long after his hunger is appeased."
— Sir Walter Scott. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 235
On another occasion she said to Dumnuriez, in the presence of the King,
"You see me very sad. I dare not approach the window which h)oks into
the garden. Yesterday evening, I went to the window towards tlie court
just to take a little air; a gunner of the guard addressed me in terms of
vulgar abuse, adding, ' TIow I should like to see your head on tlu; point of
my bayonet !' In this horrid garden you see on one side a man mounted on
a chair, reading aloud the most abominable calumnies against us ; on the
other, a military man or an abbe, dratrged through one of the basins, over-
whelmed with abuse, and beaten ; whilst others are playing at ball or quietly
walking about. What an abode ! What a people !"*
Thus, by a kind of fatality, the supposed intentions of the palace excited
the distrust and the fury of the people, and the uproar of the people in-
creased tlu! anxiety and the imprudence of tlie palace. Despair therefore
reigned within and without. But why, it may be asked, did not a candid
" None exercised a more fatal influence upon the period in which he lived than Marat.
He depraved the morals of the existing parties, already sufficiently lax ; and to him were
ovvin;^ the two ideas which the committee of public safety realized at a later period — the ex-
termination of multitudes, ami the dictatorship." — Mignef. E.
" A woman of Toulouse, who was desirous of ohtaining the liberty of a relation, resolved
on soliciting Marat. On going to his house, she was informed that he was absent, but he
heard the voice of a female, and came out himself. He wore boots, but no stockings, a pair
of old leather breeches, white silk waistcoat, and a dirty shirt, the bosom of which was open,
and showed his yellow chest. Long dirty nails, skinny lingers, and a hideous face, suited
exactly this whimsical dress. He took the lady's hand, and, leading hrr into a very pleasant
room, furnished with blue and white damask, decorated with silk curtains, elegantly drawn
up in festoons, and adorned with china vases full of natural flowers, which were then scarce
and dear, Marat sat down beside her on a luxurious couch, heard the recital she had to make
him, became interested in her, kissed her hand, and promised to set her cousin free. In con-
sequence he was liberated from prison within twenty-four hours." — Madame Ru/and's Me-
7noirs. E.
" Give me," said Marat, " two hundred Neapolitans, the knife in their right hand, in their
left a TniiJJ', to serve for a target, and with these I will traverse France and complete the
Revolution. He also made an exact calculation, showing in what manner 260,000 men
niigtit be put to death in one day." — Barbaroux's Memoirs. E.
* Durniinriez's Memiiirfs, book iii., chap. fi.
Madame Campan gives a different account of the conversation with Dumouriez:
"All the parties," says she, " were bestirring themselves either to ruin the King or to save
him. One day, I found the Queen in extreme agitation; she told me that she knew not
what to do ; that the leaders of the Jacobins had offered themselves to her through Du-
mouriez, or that Dumouricz, forsaking the party of the Jacobins, had come and offered him-
self to her ; that she had given him an audience ; that, b(>ing alone with her, he had thrown
himself at her feet, and told her that he had put on the red cap, and even pulled it down
over his ears, but that he neither was, nor ever could be, a Jacobin ; that the Revolution
had been suffered to roll on to that mob of disorganizers, who, aspiring only to pillage, were
capable of everything, and had it in their power to furnisli the Assembly with a tbrmidablo
army, ready to sap the remains of a throne already too much shaken. While speaking with
extreme warmth, he had taken hold of the Queen's hand, and kissed it with transport, saying,
* Allow yourself to be saved.' The Queen told me that it was impossible to believe the
protestations of a traitor ; that all his conduct was .so well known, that the wisest plan
indisputably was not to trust him ; and, besides, the princes earnestly recommended that no
eontidence should be placed in any proposal from the interior." — Tome ii., p. 20'-.
The account of that conversation here differs, as the reader may perceive, in some re-
spects: yet the groundwork is the same. In passing through the lips of the Queen and
those of Madame Campan, it could not fail to accjuire a col()uring rather unfavourable to
Dumouriez. The narrative of Duinouriez describes, in a much more probable manner, the
agitations of the imfortunate Marie Antoinette; and, as it contains nothing injurious to that
princess, or that does not correspond with her character, I have j)rcferred it. It is possible,
however, that the preSjumplion of Dumouriez may have caused him to record in preference
the particulars most flattering to himself.
236 HISTORY OF THE
explanation put an end to so many evils ? Why did not the palace com-
prehend the fears of the people ? Why did not the people comprehend the
afflictions of the palace ? But, why are men men ? At this last question
we must pause, submissively resign ourselves to human nature, and pursue
our melanciioly story.
Leopold II. was dead. The pacific dispositions of that prince were to be
regretted for the tranquillity of Europe, and the same moderation could not
be hoped for from his successor and nephew, the King of Bohemia and
Hungary. Gustavus, King of Sweden, had just been assassinated during
an entertainment.* The enemies of the Jacobins attributed this murder to
them ; but it was fully proved to be the crime of the nobility, humbled by
Gustavus in the last Swedish Revolution. Thus the nobility, who in France
cried out against the revolutionary fury of the people, gave in the north an
example of what it had formerly been itself, and of what it still was in
countries where civilization was least advanced. What an example for
Louis XVI., and what a lesson, if at the moment he could have compre-
hended it! The death of Gustavus thwarted the enterprise which he had
meditated against France — an enterprise for which Catherine was to furnish
soldiers and Spain subsidies. It is doubtful, however, if the perfidious
Catherine would have performed her promise, and the death of Gustavus,
from which most important consequences were anticipated, was in reality a
very insignificant event.t
Delessart had been impeached on account of the feeble tone of his
despatches. It was not consonant either with the disposition or the interest
of Dumouriez to treat feebly with the powers. The last despatches appeared
to satisfy Louis XVI. on account of their aptness and their firmness. M.
de Noailles, ambassador at Vienna, and by no means a sincere servant, sent
his resignation to Dumouriez, saying that he had no hope of making the
head of the empire listen to the language that had just been dictated to him.
Dumoui'iez lost no time in communicating the circumstance to the Assem-
bly, wliich, indignant at this resignation, immediately passed a decree of
accusation against M. de Noailles. A new ambassador was instandy sent
with fresh despatches. Two days afterwards, Noailles recalled his resigna-
tion, and sent the categorical answer which he had required from the court
of Vienna.
Among all the faults committed by the powers, this note of M. de Co-
bentzel's is one of the most impolitic. M. de Cobentzel insisted, in the
name of his court, on the re-establishment of the French monarchy on the
basis fixed bv the roval declaration of the 23d of June, 1789. This was
equivalent to requiring the re-establishment of the three orders, the restitu-
tion of the property of the clergy, and that of the Comtat-Venaissin to the
* " Gustavus in., Kin^ of Sweden, was liorn in 1746, and assassinated hy Ankarstrom at a
masked bull at Stockholm on the ni^ht of Mari^h 15, 1792." — EncycJops'dia A>ner!rinin. E.
j- Bouille, whose Memoirs I have already quoted, and whose situation enabled him to form
a correct judgment of the real intentions of the powers, utterly disbelieved both the zeal and
the sincerity of Catherine. On this subject he expresses himself as follows:
"It is obvious that this prince (Gustavus) relied much on the dispositions of the Empress
of Russia, and on the active part which she was to take in the confederacy, and which was
contitied to demonstrations. The Kiii^ of Sweden was deceived ; and I doubt whether
Catherine would ever have entrusted him with the eighteen thousand Russians she had pro-
mised. I am (lersuaded, moreover, that the Emperor an<i the King of Prussia had not com-
municated to him either their views or their plans. They had both of them personally more
than a dislike for him, and they were desirous that he should not take any active part in the
aflairs of France." — Bouille, p. 319.
FREN'CH REVOLUTION. 237
Pope. The Austrian minister moreover demanded the restoration of tlie
domains in Alsace, with all their feudal rights, to the princes of the empire.
In order to propose such conditions, a man must have known nothing of
France unless through the medium of the pas.sions of Coblentz. It was
demanding at once the destioiction of a constitution sworn to by the King
and the nation, and the repeal of a decisive determination in regard to
Avignon. Lastly, it was imposing the necessity of bankruptcy by the
restitution of the possessions of the clergy already sold. Besides, what
right had the emperor to claim such a submission ? What right had he to
interfere in our atlairs ? What complaint liad he to make lor the princes
of Alsace, since their domains w'ere enclosed by the French territory, and
must of course submit to the same laws as that?
The first movement of the King: and Dumouriez was to hasten to the
Assembly and to communicate to it this note. The Assembly was indio-nant,
and justly so. The cry for war was universal. But Dumouriez did not
inform the Assembly that Austria, which he had threatened with a fresh
revolution at liicge, had sent an agent to treat with him on that subject;
that the language of this agent was totally different from that held at this
moment by the Austrian ministry ; and that this note Avas evidently the
effect of a sudden and suggested revolution. The Assembly annulled the
decree of accusation passed against Noailles, and demanded a speedy report.
The King could no longer recede. That fatal war was at lenjjth on the
point of being declared. In no case could it be favourable to his interests.
If victorious, the French would become more urgent and more inexorable
relative to the ob.-ervance of the new law. If vanquished, they would find
fault with the government and accuse it of having feebly carried on the war.
Louis XVI. was perfectly aware of this double danger, and this resolution
was one of those which were most painful to him.* Dumouriez drew up
* Madame Campan acquaints us, in one and the same passage, with the construction of
the iron chest and the existence of a secret protest made by the King against the declaratioa
of war. This apprehension of the King for the war was extraordinarj', and he strove in
all possible ways to throw it upon the popular party.
"The King had a prodigious quantity of papers, and unluckily conceived the idea of
having a closet made very secretly in an inner corridor of his apartments, by a locksmith
whom he had kept at work about him for more than ten years. But for the denunciation
of this man, that closet might have long remained unknown. The wall, just at the place
where it vi'as made, was painted to look like large stones, and the opening was completely
masked in the brown grooves formed by the shaded part of these painted stones. But, before
this locksmith had denounced to the Assembly what has since been called the Iron Chest,
the Queen knew that he had talked of it to some of his friends, and that this man, in
whom the King, from habit, placed too great confidence, was a Jacobin. 8he apprized the
King of this, and prevailed upon him to fill a very large portfolio with such papers as he
was most anxious to preserve and to commit it to my care. She begged him in my presence
not to leave anything in that closet; and the King, to quiet her, replied that he had left
nothing there. I would have taken up the portfolio for the purpose of carrying it to my
apartments: it was too heavy for me to lift. The King told me that he would carrv it him-
self: I went before to oj)en the doors for him. When he had lai<l down this portfolio in my
inner cabinet, he merely said, ' 'J'lie Queen will tell you what that contains.' On returning
to the Queen, I asked, supposing from the intimation of the King, that it was necessary for
me to know. ' They are papers,' replied the Queen, ' which would be most fatal to the King,
if they were to go so far as to bring him to trial. But what he certainly means me to tell
you is, that in this portfolio there is the report of a council of stale, in which the King gave
his opinion against the war. He made all the ministers sign it, and in case of a trial, he
calculates that this paper would be extremely serviceable to him.' I asked the Queen to
whose care she thought I ought to commit this portfolio 1 ' Put it in the care of any one
you please,' replied she ; ' you alone are responsible for it. Do not leave the palace, even in
238 HISTORY OF THE
his report with his usual celerity, and carried it to the King, who kept it
three days. It became a question whether the King, obliged to take the
initiative with the Assembly, would urge it to declare war, or wliether he
would content himself with consulting it on this subject, in announcing that,
agreeably to tlie injunctions given, France was in a state of war. The
ministers Roland and Clavieres were in favour of the former procedure.
The orators of the Gironde likewise supported it, and were for dictating
the speech from the tlu-one. Louis XVT. felt repugnance to declare war, and
preferred declaring tbe country in a state of war. The difference was un-
important, yet to his mind the one was preferable to the otlier. Dumouriez,
whose mind was more easily made up, listened to none of the ministers ;
and, supported by Degraves, Lacoste, and Duranthon, caused the King's
opinion to be adopted. This was his first quarrel with the Gironde. The
King composed his speech himself, and repaired in person to the Assembly,
followed by all his ministers. A considerable concourse of spectators added
to t!ie effect of this sitting, which was about to decide the fate of France
and of Europe. The King's features appeared careworn and indicated deep
thought. Dumouriez read a detailed report of the negotiations of France
with the Empire ; he showed that the treaty of 1756 was de facto broken,
and tliat, according to the last ultimatum, France tvas in a state of war.
He added that the King, having no otlier legal medium for consulting the
Assembly but the formal proposal of loar, submitted to consult it in that
manner. Louis XVL then spoke with dignity but widi a faltering voice.*
" Gentlemen," said he, " you have just heard the result of the negotiations
in which I have been engaged with the court of Vienna. The conclusions
of the report have been unanimously approved by my council : I have my-
self adopted them. They are conformable with tlie wish which the National
Assembly had several times expressed, and with the sentiments communi-
cated to me by a great number of citizens in different parts of the kingdom :
all would rather have war than see the dignity of the French people any
longer insulted, and tlie national security threatened.
" Having previously, as it was my duty, employed all possible means to
maintain peace, I now come, agreeably to the terms of the constitution, to
propose to the National Assembly war against the King of Hungary and
Bohemia."
This proposal was most warmly received: shouts of '■'■Vive le RoiT'' re-
sounded on all sides. The Assembly answered that it would deliberate, and
that the King should be apprized by a message of the result of the delibera-
tion. A most stormy discussion immediately commenced, and continued
till the night was far advanced. The reasons already given pro and con
were here repeated ; the decree was at length passed, and war resolved upon
by a great majority.
"Considering," said the Assembly, "that the court of Vienna, in con-
your months of rest : there are circumstances under which it may be of the utmost im-
portance to be able to find it at the very moment when it is wanted." — Madame Campan,
tome ii., p. 222.
* " I was present at the sitting in which Louis was forced to a measure which was neces-
sarily painful to him for many reasons. His features were not expressive of his thoughts,
but it was not from dissimulation that he concealed them ; a mixture of resignation and
dignity repressed in him every outward sign of his sentiments. On entering the Assembly,
he looked to the right and left, with that kind of vacant curiosity which is not unusual with
persons who are so shortsighted that their eyes seem to be of no use to them. He [)roposed
war in the same tone of voice as he might have used in requiring the most indifferent decree
possible." — Madame de Stael's Memoirs. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 239
tempt of treaties, lias not ceased to grant open protection to French rebels ;
that it has provoked and formed a concert with several powers of Europe
against the independence and the safety of the French nation ;
" Tiiut Francis I., King of Hungary and Bohemia,* has by his notes of
the ISlhof Marcii and tlie 7th of April last, refused to renounce this con-
cert;
" That, notwitlistanding the proposal made to him by the note of the 11th
of March, 1792, to reduce tlie troops upon the frontiers, on botli sides, to
the peace establishment, he has continued and augmented his hostile prepa-
rations ;
" That he has formally attacked the sovereignty of the French nation, by
declaring his determination to support the pretensions of the German princes
holding possessions in France, to whom the French nation has not ceased
to oflVr indemnities ;
" That he has sought to divide the French citizens and to arm tlicm, one
against the other, by oH'ering to support the malcontents in concert with the
other powers ;
*' Considering, lastly, that the refusal to answer the last despatches of the
King of the French leaves no hope of obtaining an amicable redress of these
various grievances by means of an amicable negotiation, and is equivalent to
a declaration of war, the Asseml)!y declares tliat it is compelled, &c., <tc."
It must be admitted that this cruel war, whicli for so long a period alllicted
Europe, was not provoked by France but by the foreign powers. France,
in declaring it, did no more than recognise by a decree the state in which
she had been placed. Condorcet Avas directed to draw up an exposition
of the motives of the nation. History ought to preserve this paper, an
admirable model of reasoning and moderation.!
* Francis I. was not yet elected emperor.
•[• Exposition of the Mutives which determined the National Assemhh/ tn decree, on the
fornidl proposal of the Kins;, that there is reason to declare war against the King of
Hungary and Bohemia. By M. Condorcet.
(Siuing of April 20, 17i)2.)
Forced by the most imperative necessity to consent to war, the National Assembly is well
aware thai it shall be accused of having wilfully accelerated or provoked it.
It knows that the insidious conduct of the court of Vienna hns had no other object than to
give a shadow of |)lausibility to this imputation, which is needed by the foreign powers to
conceal from their people the real motives of the unjust attack prepared against France : it
knows that this reproach will be repeated by the domestic enemies of our constitution and
our laws, in the criminal hope of robbing the representatives of the nation of the good-will
of the public.
A simi)le exposition of their conduct is their only reply, and they address it with equal
confidence to foreigners and to Frenchmen, since Nature has placed the sentiments of the
same justice in the hearts of all mankind.
Each nation has alone the power of giving laws to itself, and the inalienable right of chang-
ing them. This right either belongs to none, or it belongs to all in perfect equality : to
attack it in one is to declare that it is not recognised in any other ; to attempt to wrest it by
force from a foreign nation is proclaiming that a person respects it only in that of which be
is a citizen or the chief; it is betraying his country ; it is proclaiming himself an enemy of
the human race. The French nation could not but conceive that truths so simple would be
felt by all princes, and that, in the eighteenth century, no one would dare to oppose to them
the old maxims of tyranny : its hope has been disappointed ; a league has been formed
against its imlependence, and it has had no other choice left but to enlighten its enemies
respecting the justice of its cause, or to oppose to them the force of arms.
Informed of this threatening league, but anxious to preserve peace, the National Assembly
at first inquired vvhat^iwas the object of this concert between jiowers which had so long beer»
rivals, and it received for answer tliat its motive was the niaiatenancc of the general tranijuil-
240 HISTORY OF THE
The war occasioned general joy. The patriots beheld in it the end of
those apprehensions which they felt on account of the emigration and the
lity, the safety and honour of crowns, the fear of witnessing the recurrence of the events
which some of the epochs of the French Revolution have presented.
But how should France threaten the general tranijuillity, since she has taken the solemn
resolution not to attempt any conquest, not to attack the liberty of any nation ; since, amidst
that long and sanguinary struggle which has arisen in the territory of the Liege, in the
Netherlands, between the government and the citizens, it has maintained the strictest neu-
trality 1
It is true that the French nation has loudly declared that the sovereignty belongs exclu-
sively to the people, which, limited in the exercise of its supreme will by the rights of pos-
terity, cannot delegate irrevocable power; it is true that it has loudly acknowledged that no
usage, no express law, no consent, no convention, can subject a society of men to an authority
which they would not have the right of resuming : but what idea would princes form of the
legitimacy of their power, or of the justice with which they exercise it, if they were to
ciHisidcr the enunciation of these maxims as an enterprise against the tranquillity of their
dominions 1
Will they allege that this tranquillity might be disturbed by the writings, by the speeches,
of a few Frenchmen ! This, then, would be requiring, by main force, a law against the
liberty of the press; it would be declaring war against the progress of reason ; and when it is
known that the French nation has everywhere been insulted with impunity, that the presses
of the neighbouring countries have never ceased inundating our departments with works
designed to stir up treason, to excite rebellion ; when it is recollected what marks of patronage
and interest have been lavished on the authors, will any one believe that a sincere love of
peace, and not hatred of liberty, has dictated these hypocritical reproaches!
Much has been said of attempts made by the French to rouse the neighbouring nations
to break their fetters, to claim their rights. But the very ministers who have repeated these
imputations, without daring to adduce a single fact in support of them, well knew how
chimerical they were ; and had even these attempts lieen real, the powers which have allowed
assemblages of our emigrants, which have given them assistance, which have received their
ambassadors, which have publicly admitted them into their conferences, which are not
ashamed to incite Frenchmen to civil war, would have retained no right of complaining;
otherwise it must be admitted that it is allowable to extend slavery, and criminal to propa-
gate liberty; that every thing is lawful against nations; that kings alone possess genuine
rights. Never would the pride of the throne have more audaciously insulted the majesty of
nations !
The French people, at liberty to fix the form of its constitution, could not, by making use
of this power, endanger the safety or the honour of foreign crowns. Would then, the chiefs
of other countries class among their prerogatives the right of obliging the French nation to
confer on the head of its government a power equal to tliat whicii they themselves exercise
in their dominions ! Would they, because they have subjects, forbid the existence elsewhere
of freemen ] Can they help perceiving that, in permitting every thing for what they term
the safety of crowns, they declare legitimate whatever a nation can undertake in favour of
the liberty of other nations]
If acts of violence, if crimes, have accompanied some of the epochs of the French Revolu-
tion, to the depositories of the national will alone belonged the jjower of punishing or bury-
ing them in oblivion: every citizen, every magistrate, be his title what it may, ought not to
demand justice but of the laws of his country — ought not to expect it but from them.
Foreign powers, so long as their subjects have not sull'Ted from these events, cannot have a
just motive either for complaining of them, or for taking hostile measures to prevent their
recurrence. Kindred, personal alliances between kings, are nothing to the nations : whether
enslaved or free, common interests unite them: Nature has placed their happiness in peace,
in the mutual aids of a kindly fraternity ; she would be indignant if one would dare to put
in the same balance the fate of twenty milliiMis of men and the alfections or the pride of a
few individuals. Are we then doomed still to behold the voluntary servitude of nations
encircling the altars of the false gi)ds of the earth with human victims !
Thus these alleged motives of a league against France were but a fresh outrage against
her independence. She had a right to require a renunciation of the injurious preparations,
and to consider a refusal as an act of hostility : such have been the principles that have
guided the conduct of the National Assembly. It has continued to desire peace; but it
could not help preferring war to a patience dangerous for liberty ; it could not help per-
FRENCH REVOLUTIOX. 241
wavering conduct of the King. The moderates, alarmed by divisions,
hoped that the common danger would put an end to them, and that the fields
ceiving that changes in the constitution, that violation of the equality which is the basis of
it, were the sole aim of the enemies of France; that they wished to punish her for having
recognised in their full extent the rights common to all mankind; and then it took that oath,
repeated by all Frenchmen, to perish rather than suffer the slightest attack either upon the
liberty of the citizens, or upon the sovereignty of the people ; or, above all, upon that
equality without which there exists for societies neitlier justice nor happiness.
Would they reproach the French with not having sufficiently respected the rights of other
nations, in offering only pecuniary indemnities either to the German princes holding pos-
sessions in Alsace, or to the Pope 1
Treaties had acknowledged the sovereignty of France over Alsace, and it had been
peaceably exercised there for upwards of a century. The rights which these treaties had
reserved were but privileges; the meaning of this reserve therefore was, that the possessors
of fiefs in Alsace should retain them, with their old prerogatives, so long as the general laws
of France admitted of the dilTerent forms of feudalism; that reserve signified also that, if the
feudal prerogatives were involved in one general ruin, the nation ought to indemnify the
possessors for the real advantages resulting from it: for this is all that the right of property
can demand, when it happens to be in opposition to the law, in contradiction to the public
interest. The citizens of Alsace are Frenchmen, and the nation cannot without disgrace and
without injustice suffer them to be deprived of the smallest portion of the rights common to
all those whom this name ought alike to protect. Shall it be urged that, in order to indem-
nify these princes, we can relinquish to them a portion of our territory 1 No : a generous
and free nation does not sell men ; it does not doom to slavery ; it does not give up to mas-
ters, those whom it has once admitted to share its liberty.
The citizens of the Comtats had a right to give themselves a constitution ; they might have
declared themselves independent; they preferred being Frenchmen, and after adopting,
France will not forsake them. Had she refused to accede to their desire, their country is.
encompassed by her territory, and slie could not have permitted their oppressors to pass through
a land of liberty in order to punish men for having dared to make themselves independent
and to resume their rights. What the Pope possessed in this country was the salary of the
functions of the government; the people, in taking from him these functions, have exercised
a power which long servitude had suspended, but of which it could not deprive them ; and
the indemnity offered by France was not even required by justice.
Thus it is again violations of the right of nature that they dare to demand in the name of
the Pope and the possessors of fiefs in Alsace! It is again for the pretensions of a few
individuals that they would spill the blood of nations! And if the ministers of the house of
Austria had resolved to declare war against reason in the name of prejudices, against nations
in the name of kings, they could not have held any other language.
It has been asserted that the vow of the French people for the maintenance of its equality
and its independence was the vow of a faction. But the French nation has a constitution;
that constitution has been recognised, ado[)ted by the generality of the citizens ; it cannot be
changed but by the desire of the people, and according to the forms which it has itself pre-
scribed : whilst it subsists the powers established by it have alone the right of manifesting the
national will, and it is by them that this will has been declared to the foreign powers. It
was the King who, on the application of the National Assembly, and exercising the functions
which the constitution confers on him, complained of the protection granted to the emigrants,
and insisted to no pur[)ose that it should be withdrawn ; it was he who solicited explana-
tions concerning the league formed against France ; it was he who required that this league
should be dissolved ; and assuredly we have a right to be surprised to hear the solemn wish
of the people, publicly expressed by its lawful rc^ircsentativcs, proclaimed as the cry of a (cw
factious men. What title equally respectable could then those kings invoke, who force
misled nations to fight against the interests of their own liberty, and to take arms against
rights which are also their own, to stifle beneath the ruins of the French constitution the
germs of their own felicity and the general hopes of mankind !
And, besides, what sort of a faction is it that could be accused of having conspired the
universal liberty of mankind ? It is then the entire human race that enslaved minbters dare
to brand with this odious name.
But, say they, the King of the French is not free. What! is to be dependent on the
laws of one's country not to be free. The liberty of thwarting them, of withdrawing oneself
from them, of opposing to them a foreign force, would not be a right, but a crime.
VOL, I, — 31 X
242 HISTORY OF THE
of battle would absorb all the turbulent spirits generated by the Revolution.
Some Feuillans alone, glad to find faults in the Assembly, reproached it
with having violated the constitution, according to which, France ought
never to be in a state of aggression. It is but too evident that here France
was not the assailant. Thus, war was the general wish of all excepting
the King and a fcAV discontented persons.
Lafayette prepared to serve his country bravely in this new career. It
was he who was more particularly charged with the execution of the plan
conceived by Dumouriez and apparently ordered by Degraves. Dumouriez
had justly flattered himself, and given all the patriots reason to hope,
that the invasion of the Netherlands would be an easy task. That country,
recently agitated by a revolution, wliich Austria had suppressed, might
naturally be expected to be disposed to rise on the first appearance of the
Thus, in rejecting all these insidious propositions, in despising these indecent declamations,
the National Assembly had shown itself, in all the foreign relations, equally friendly to
peace, and jealous of the liberty of the people ; thus the continuance of a hostile tolerance
for the emigrants, the open violation of the promises to disperse their assemblages, the
refusal to renounce a line evidently offensive, the injurious motives of this refusal, which
indicated a desire to destroy the French constitution, were sufficient to authorize hostilities,
which v^'ould never have been any other than acts of lawful defence ; for it is not attacking,
not to give our enemy time to exhaust our resources in long preparations, to spread all his
snares, to collect all his forces, to strengthen his first alliances, to seek fresh ones, to form
connexions in the midst of us, to multiply plots and conspiracies in our provinces. Does he
deserve the name of aggressor, who, when threatened, provoked, by an unjust and perfidious
foe, deprives him of the advantage of striking the first blows? Thus, so far from seeking
war, the National Assembly has done every thing to prevent it. In demanding new
explanations respecting intentions which could not be doubtful, it has shown that it renounced
with pain the hope of a return to justice, and that, if the pride of kings is prodigal of the
blood of their subjects, the humanity of the representatives of a free nation is sparing even
of the blood of its enemies. Insensible to all provocations, to all insults, to the contempt
of old engagements, to violations of new promises, to the shameful dissimulation of the plots
hatched against France, to that perfidious condescension under which were disguised the
succours, the encouragements, lavished on the French who have betrayed their country, it
would still have accepted peace, if that which was offered had been compatible with the
maintenance of the constitution, with the independence of the national sovereignty, with the
safety of the state.
But the veil which concealed the intentions of our enemy is at length torn. Citizens,
which of you could, in fact, subscribe to these ignominious proposals 1 Feudal servitude,
and an humiliating inequality, bankruptcy, and taxes which you alone would pay, tithes and
Ihe inquisition, your possessions bought upon the public faith restored to their former
usurpers, the beasts of the chase re-established in the right of ravaging your fields, your blood
profusely spilt for the ambitious projects of a hostile house, — such are the conditions of the
treaty between the King of Hungary and perfidious Frenchmen !
Such is the peace which is offered to you ! No; never will you accept it. The cowards
are at Coblentz, and France no longer harbours in her bosom any but men worthy of
liberty.
He proclaims in his own name, in the name of his allies, the plan of requiring of the
French nation the relinquishment of its rights ; he declares that he shall demand of it sacri-
fices which nothing but the fear of destruction could wring from it. Let him ; but never
will it submit to them. This insulting pride, so far from intimidating it, will only rouse its
courage. It takes time to discipline the slaves of despotism, but every man is a soldier when
he combats tyranny ; money will start forth from its dark retreats at the cry of the country
in danger; those ambitious wretches, those slaves of corruption and intrigue, those base
calumniators of the people, from whom our foes dared promise themselves ignominious
succours, will lose the support of the blind or pusillanimous citizens whom they had deluded
by their hypocritical declamations; and the French empire, throughout its wide extent, will
display to our enemies but one universal determination to conquer or utterly perish with the
constitution and the laws.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 243
French, and th^n •would be fulfilled the warnino; of the Assembly to the
sovereigns — " If you send us war, we will send you back lil)erty." It was,
moreover, the execution of the plan conceived by Dumouriez, which con-
sisted in extending the French territory to its natural frontiers.
Rochambeau commanded the army close to the scene of action, but he
could not be charged with this operation on account of his peevish and dis-
contented disposition, and more especially because he was less fitted than
Lafayette for an invasion half military, half popular. It was wished that
Lafayette might liave the general command, but Dumouriez refused to com-
ply, no doubt from ill-will. He alleged, as a reason, that it was impossible,
in the presence of a marshal, to give the chief command of that expedition
to a mere general. He said, moreover, and this reason was not quite so
bad, that Lafayette w^as suspected hj the Jacobins and by the Assembl)'. It
is certain that, young, active, the only one of all the generals who was be-
loved by his arm3% Lafayette was a terror to overheated imaginations, and
furnished occasion, by his influence, to the calumnies of the malignant. Be
this as it may, he cheerfully offered to execute the plan of the ministry, at
once diplomatic and military : he demanded fifty thousand men, with whom
he proposed to push forward by Namur and the Meuse to Liege, the posses-
sion of which would make him master of the Netherlands.
This plan was judicious, and it was approved by Dumouriez. War had
been declared only a few days. Austria had not time to cover her posses-
sions in the Netherlands, and success appeared certain. Accordingly, La-
fayette was ordered at first to advance with ten thousand men from Givet to
Namur, and from Namur to Liege or Brussels. He was to be followed
immediately by his whole army. While he was executing this movement,
Lieutenant-general Biron was to set out from Valenciennes with ten thou-
sand men, and to march upon Mons. Another officer had orders to proceed
to Tournay, and to take possession of it immediately. These movements,
conducted by officers of Rochambeau's, were intended to support and mask
the real attack committed to Lafayette.
The orders given to this effect were to be executed between the 20th of
April and the 2d of May. Biron commenced his march, left Valenciennes,
made himself master of Quievrain, and found a few hostile detachments
near Mons. All at once, two regiments of dragoons, thougli not in presence
of the enemy, cried out, " We are betrayed !" betook themselves to flight,
and were folloAved by the whole army. In vain the oflicers strove to stop
the fugitives ; they threatened to shoot them, and continued their flight.
The camp was given up, and all the military effects fell into the hands of the
Imperialists.
While this event was occurring at INIons, Theobald Dillon left liille, ac-
cording to a preconcerted plan, with two thousand infimtry and a thousand
horse. In the very same liour that Biron's disaster happened, die cavalry,
at the sight of some Austrian troops, gave way, crying out that it was be-
trayed. It hurried the infantry along with it, and affain the whole of the
baggage was abnndoned to the enemy. Tlicobald Dillon and an ofllcer of
engineers, named Berthois, were murdered by the soldiers and the populace
of Lille, who insisted that they were traitors.
Meanwhile Lafayette, apprized too late of these circumstances, had pro-
ceeded from Metz to Givet, after encountering extreme (Hfliculties, and by
roads that were scarcely passable. Nothing but the ardour of his troops
enabled him to psjffonn, in so short a time, the considerable distance which
244 HISTORY OF THE
he had traversed. There, learning the disasters of Rocharabeau's officers,
he thought it right to hah.
This intelligence produced a general agitation. It was natural to suppose
that these two events had been concerted, judging from their coincidence and
their simultaneous occurrence. All the parties accused one another. The
Jacobins and the furious patriots insisted that there was a design to betray
the cause of liberty. Dumouriez, not accusing Lafayette, but suspecting
the Feuillans, conceived that there had been a scheme to thwart his plan, in
order to make him unpopular. Lafayette complained, but less bitterly than
his party, that he had been directed too late to commence his march, and
that he had not been furnished with all the means necessary for accomplish-
ing it. The Feuillans, moreover, reported that Dumouriez had designed
to ruin Rochambeau and Lafayette by chalking out a plan for them, without
giving them the means of executing it. Such an intention was not to be
supposed ; for Dumouriez, in stepping beyond the duty of minister for
foreign affairs in order to form a plan of campaign, incurred a grievous risk
in case of its failure. Besides, the project of gaining Belgium for France
and liberty formed part of a plan which he had long meditated ; how tlien
could it be imagined that he wished to make it miscarry ? It was evident
that in this case neither the minister nor the generals could be insincere,
because they were all interested in succeeding. But parties always put per-
sons in the place of circumstances, that they may throw upon some one the
blame of the disasters which befal them.
Degraves, alarmed at the tumult excited by the recent military events,
determined to resign an office which had long been too arduous for him, and
Dumouriez was wrong in not undertaking it. Louis XVI., still under the
sway of the Gironde, gave that department to Servan, an old soldier, known
for his patriotic opinions.* This choice gave increased strength to the
Gironde, which found itself almost in a majority in the council, having
Servan, Clavieres, and Roland, at its disposal. From that moment, discord
began to prevail among the ministers. The Gironde daily became more
distrustful, and consequently more urgent for demonstrations of sincerity on
the part of Louis XVI. Dumouriez, who was but little guided by opinions,
and who was touched by the confidence of the King, always took his part.
Lacosle, who was strongly attaclied to the prince, did the same. Duranthon
was neuter, and had no preference but for the weakest parties. Servan,
Clavieres, and Roland, were inflexible. Filled with the fears of their friends,
they daily showed themselves more impracticable and inexorable at the
council.
Another circumstance completed the rupture between Dumouriez and the
principal members of the Gironde. Dumouriez, on accepting the ministry
for foreign affairs, had demanded six millions for secret services, and insisted
that he should not be called upon to account for the expenditure of that sum.
The Feuillans had opposed this, but, througli tlie influence of the Gironde,
his demand proved triumphant, and tlie six millions were granted. Petion
had applied for funds for the police of Paris ; Dumouriez had alloAved him
thirty thousand francs per month ; but, ceasing to be a Girondin, he permit-
ted only one payment to be made. On the other hand, it was learnt or sus-
pected that he had just spent one hundred thousand francs upon his pleasures.
• "Servan was born at Romano in 1741, and died at Paris in 1808. ' He was,' says
Madame Roland, 'an honest man in the fullest signification of the term; an enlightened
patriot, a brave soldier, and an active minister; he stood in need of nothing but a more sober
imagination, and a more flexible mind.' " — Scott's Life of Napokon. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 245
Roland, around whom rallied the Gironde, was, with all his friends, highly
indignant at this circumstance. The ministers dined with one another by-
turns, for the purpose of conversing on public affairs. When they met at the
house of Roland, it was in the presence of his wife and all his friends ; and
we may say that the council was then hold by the Gironde itself. It was at
such a meeting that remonstrances were made to Dumouriez on the nature
of his secret expenses. At first he replied with gaiety and good humour,
afterwards lost his temper, and quarrelled decidedly with Roland and the
Girondins. He ceased to attend at these accustomed parties, and alleged as
his reason that he would not talk of public affairs either before a woman or
before Roland's friends. He nevertheless went occasionally to Roland's,
but either said very little, or nothing at all, concerning business. Another
discussion widened still further the breach between him and the Girondins.
Guadet, tlie most petulant of his party, read a letter, proposing that the mi-
nisters should induce the King to choose for his spiritual director a priest
who had taken the oath. Dumouriez maintained that the ministers could
not interfere in the religious exercises of the King. He was supported, it
is true, liy Vergniaud and Gensonne ; but the quarrel was not the less vio-
lent, and a rupture became inevitable.
The newspapers commenced the attack upon Dumouriez. The Feuillans,
who were already leagued against him, then found themselves aided by the
Jacobins and the Girondins. Dumouriez, assailed on all sides, firmly con-
fronted the storm, and caused severe measures to be taken against some of
the journalists.
A decree of accusation had already been directed against Marat, author
of the Ami du Peiiple ; an atrocious work, in which he openly advocated
murder, and heaped the most audacious insults on the royal family, and on
all who were objects of suspicion to his frenzied imagination. To coun-
terbalance the effect of this measure, a decree of accusation was obtained
against Royou, who was the author of the Ami du Roi, and who inveighed
against the republicans with the same violence that Marat displayed against
tlie royalists.
For a long time past a great deal had been said concerning an Austrian
committee. The patriots talked of it in the city, as the Orleans faction was
talked of at court. To this committee a secret and miscliievous influence
was attributed, which was exercised through the medium of the Queen. If
anything resembling an Austrian committee had existed in the time of the
Constituent Assembly, there was notbing of the kind under the Legislative.
At the former period an illustrious personage, who held an appointment in
the Netherlands, communicated to the Queen, in the name of her family,
some very prudent advice, which was still more prudently commented upon
by the French intermediate agent. But under the Legislative Assembly
these private communications had ceased ; the Queen's family had continued
its correspondence with her, but never omitted to recommend patience and
resignation to her. It is true that IJertrand de Molleville and IMontmorin
still paid visits to the palace after their removal from the ministry. It was
against them that all suspicions were directed, and they were, in fact, the
agents of all the secret commissions. They were publicly accused by
Carra, the journalist. Determiiu'd to prosecute him as a calumniator, they
summoned him to produce documents in support of his denunciation. The
journalist backed himself by three deputies, and named Cbabot, Merlin, and
Bazire, as tlie authors of the particulars which he had publislied. Larivicre,
justice of the peace, who was devoted to the cause of the King, prosecuted
x2
246 HISTORY OF THE
this affair with great courage, and had the boldness to issue a summons
against the three above-mentioned deputies. The Assembly, indignant at this
attack on the inviolalrility of its members, replied to the justice of peace by
a decree of accusation, and sent the unfortunate Lariviere to Orleans.*
This unlucky attempt served only to increase the general agitation, and
the hatred which prevailed against the court. The Gironde no longer con-
sidered itself as guiding Louis XVI., since Dumouriez had established his
influence over him, and it had resumed its part of violent opposition.
The new constitutional guard of the King had been recently formed.
Agreeably to the law, the civil establishment ought also to have been com-
posed ; but the nobility would not enter into it, that they might not recog-
nise the constitution by tilling posts which it had created. On the other
hand, there was a determination not to compose it of new men, and it was
abandoned. " How will you, madam," wrote Barnave to the Queen, "con-
tinue to raise the least doubt in those people concerning your sentiments ?
"When they decree you a military and a civil establishment, like young
Achilles among the daughters of Lycomedes, you eagerly grasp the sword
and put away mere ornaments. "t The ministers, and Bertrand himself,
remonstrated on their part to die same purpose as Barnave, but they could
not carry then- point, and the composition of the civil establishment was
abandoned.
The military establishment, formed agreeably to a plan proposed by De-
lessart, had been composed, one-third of troops of the line, and two-thirds
of young citizens selected from the national guards. This composition
could not but appear satisfactory. But the officers and tlie soldiers of the line
had been chosen in such a manner as to alarm the patriots. Combined
against the young men taken from the national guards, they had rendered
the situation of the latter so disaorreeable, that most of them had been obliw'ed
to retire. The vacancies had soon been filled up by trusty men ; the num- •
ber of this guard had been singularly increased ; and, instead of eighteen
hundred men, fixed by tlie law, the number had been swelled, it is said, to
nearly six thousand. Dumouriez had apprized the King of this circum-
stance, and he always replied that the old Duke de Brissac, who commanded
these troops, could not be regarded as a conspirator.
Meanwhile, the conduct of the new guard at the palace and at other places
* " For several days past the journalists had been endeavouring to raise the people by
violent declamations about plots asserted to be carried on by an Austrian committee. On
the Sunday before, two orators had been taken up in the Palais Royal tor haranguing against
t!iis comuiittee, and, on examination, they were found to carry the marks of the whip and
branding iron on their shoulders : patents of their association with the Jacobin club were
found at the same time in their pockets. Possessed of the above facts, I went to confer with
M. de Montmorin, when I was informed that Carra had the day before denounced the Aus-
trian committee in the Jacobin club; and that both Montmorin and myself were pointed out
as its principal members. On learning this, I carried my complaint before Lariviere, ^wge de
paix — an intelligent, well-disposed man — who ordered the case to be brought before him,
and witnesses to be heard, after which he issued a decree that Carra should appear before
him. He presented himself accordingly, and declared in his own defence that he had been
authorized by Merlin, Bazire, and Chabot, members of the committee of public safety, to
bring forward the accusation against Messrs. de Montmorin and Bertrand. In consequence
of this, we jointly gave in our accusation against these three members, who were arrested by
order of Lariviere, a proceeding which drew down on him the wrath of the Assembly ; the
aSair was then silted to the bottom, and, from that time forward, no journalist or motion-
maker ventured to mention the Austrian committee.'' — Memoirs of Bertrand de Molle-
ville. E.
\ Memoires de Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 154.
FREN'CH REVOLUTION. 247
was such, that suspicions were expressed in all quarters, and the clubs took
up the subject. At tlie same period, twelve Swiss hoisted the white cockade
at Neuilly ; a considerable quantity of paper was burned at Sevres,* and
these proceedings gave rise to serious suspicions. The alarm then became
general ; the Assembly declared itself permanent, as though it was still the
time when thirty thousand men threatened Paris. It is true, however, that
the disturbances were general ; that the nonjuring priests were exciting the
people in the southern provinces, and abusing the secrecy of confession to
kindle fanaticism; tliat the concert of the powers was manifest; that Prus-
sia was on the point of joining Austria; that the foreign armies became
threatening, and that the recent disasters of Lille and INIons was the general
topic of conversation. It is, moreover, true that the power of the people
excites little confidence, that it is never believed till it has been exercised,
and that an irregular multitude, how numerous soever it may be, cannot
counterbalance the force of six thousand men, armed and disciplined.
'I'lie Assembly therefore lost no time in declaring itself permanent, and it
caused an accurate report to be drawn up respecting the composition of the
King's military establishment, and tlie number, choice, and conduct of those
who composed it. After deciding tliat the constitution had been violated, it
* Madame Campan explains in the following manner the secret of the paper burned at
Sevres :
•' In the beginning of 1792, a very worthy priest requested a private interview with me.
He informed me that the arrival of the manuscript of a new libel by Madame Lamotte had
come to his knowledge ; that in the persons who had come from London to get it jirinted
at Paris he perceived no other incentive but gain, and that they were ready to give up the
manuscript to him for a thousand louis, if he could find some friend of the Queen disposed
to make that sacrifice to her tranquillity ; that he had thought of me, and that, if her ma-
jesty would give him the twenty-four thousand francs, he would deliver the manuscript to
me on receiving them.
" I communicated this proposal to the Queen, who rejected it, and ordered me to reply
that, at the time when it was possible to punish the j)ublishers of these libels, she had deemed
them 80 atrocious and so improbable, that she had disdained the means of preventing their
circulation ; that, if she were to be weak and imprudent enough to buy a single one, the
active espionage of the Jacobins would be likely to discover it ; that this libel, though bought
up, would still be printed, and would prove infinitclj' more mischievous when they should
acquaint the public with tlie means which she had employed to suppress it.
" Baron d'Aubier, gentleman in waiting on the King, and my particular friend, had an
excellent memory, and a clear and precise manner for transmitting to me the substance of
the deliberations, debates, and decrees of the National Assembly. I went every day to the
Queen's apartments, to make my report on the subject to the King, who said, on seeing me,
' Ah ! here comes the Calais postili(m.'
'• One day, M. d'Aubier came and said to me, ' The Assembly has been much engaged
with a denunciation made by the workmen in the manufactory of Sevres. They brought
and laid upon the president's desk a bundle of pamphlets, saying that they were the Life of
Marie Antoinette. The director of the manufactory was sunimoned to the bar, and declared
that he had received orders to burn these pamphlets in the ovens employed for baking the
porcelain.'
" Whilst I was giving this account to the Queen, the King blushed and hung down his
head over his plate, 'i'hc Queen said, ' Do you know anything of this, sir !' The King
made no answer. Madame Elizabeth begged him to explain the meaning of this ; still he
kept silence. I quickly withdrew. In a few minutes, the Queen came to me. and told me
that it was the King who, out of tenderness for her, had caused the whole edition printed
from the manuscript which I had offered to her to be bought up, and that M. de Laporte
could not devise any more secret way of annihilating the work than to cause it to be burnt
at Sevres among two hundred workmen, of whom at least one hundred and eighty were
Jacobins. She told me that she had concealed her vexation from the King, who was exceed-
ingly mortified, and that she could not say anything, as his kindness and afl'ection for her
had occasioned thi^ accident." — Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 19G.
248 HISTORY OF THE
issued a decree for disbanding the guard, and another of accusation against
the Duke de Brissac, and sent both these decrees for the royal sanction.
The King was disposed at first to affix his veto. Diunouriez reminded him
of the dismissal of iiis life-guards, wlio had been much longer in his service
than his new military houselioid, and exhorted him to make this second and
much less difficult sacrifice. He recapitulated, besides, the positive faults
committed by his guard, and obtained the execution of the decree. But he
immediately insisted on its recomposition ; and the King, either returning
to his former policy of appearing to be oppressed, or relying upon this dis-
banded guard, whose pay he secretly continued, rei\ised to replace it, and
was thus exposed, without protection, to the popular fury.
Tiie Gironde, despairing of the King's sincerity, followed up its attack
with perseverance. It had already issued a new decree against the priests,
instead of that which the King had refused to sanction. As reports of their
factious conduct were continually arriving, it pronounced the sentence of
banishment upon them. The designation of the culprits was difficult; and
as this measure, like all tliose of safety, rested upon suspicion, it was accord-
ing to their notoriety that the priests were judged and banished. On the
denunciation of twenty active citizens, and with the approbation of the direc-
tory of the district, the directory of tlie department pronounced sentence.
The condemned priest was obliged to leave the canton in twenty-four hours,
the department in three days, and the kingdom in a month. If he was
indigent, three livres a day were granted him till he reached the frontiers.
This severe law proved the increasing irritation of the Assembly. It was
immediately followed by another. Servan, the minister, without having
received any orders from the King, or consulting his colleagues, proposed
that, on the approaching anniversary of the Federation of the 14th of July,
there should be formed a camp of twenty tliousand federalists, destined to
protect the Assembly and the capital. It may easily be conceived with
what entliusiasm this plan was hailed by the majority of the Assembly, con-
sisting of Girondins. At this moment the power of the latter was at its
height. They governed the Assembly, Avhere the constitutionalists and the
republicans were in a minority, and where those who called themselves im-
partial were, as at all times, but indifferent persons, ever more complying
the more powerful the majority became. Moreover, they had Paris at their
beck, through Petion, the mayor, who was wholly devoted to them. Their
plan was, by means of the proposed camp, without personal ambition, but
from ambition of party and of opinion, to make themselves masters of the
King, and to forestall his suspicious intentions.
No sooner was Servan's proposal known, than Dumouriez asked him, in
full council, and with the strongest emphasis, in what character lie had made
such a proposition. He replied, that it was in the character of a private
individual. "In that case," replied Dumouriez, "you should not put after
the name of Servan the title of minister at war." The dispute became so
warm, that, but for tlie King's presence, blood would probably have been
spilt in the council. Servan offered to withdraw his motion ; but this would
have been useless, as the Assembly had taken it up ; and the King, instead
of gaining anything by it, would have appeared to exercise a violence upon
his minister. Dumouriez, therefore, opposed this ; the motion was perse-
vered in, and was combated by a petition signed by eight thousand of the
national guard, who were offended because it seemed to be thought tliat their
service was insufficient for the protection of the Assembly. It was never-
theless carried, and sent to the King. Thus there were two important
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 249
decrees awaiting his sanction, and it was already surmised that the King
would refuse his adhesion to them. In this case, the Assembly was prepared
to pass a definitive resolution against him.
Dumouriez maintained, in full council, that this measure woidd be fatal to
the throne, but still more so to the Girondins, because the new army would
be formed under the influence of the most violent Jacobins. He neverthe-
less added that it ouffht to be adopted by the King, because, if he refused to
convoke twenty thousand men regularly chosen, forty thousand would spon-
taneously rise and make themselves masters of the capital. Dumouriez,
moreover, declared that he had an expedient for annulling this measure, and
which he would communicate at the titling lime. In like manner, he insisted
that the decree respecting the banishment of the priests ouglit to be sanc-
tioned, because they were culpable, and besides, exile would withdraw them
from the fury of their enemies. Still Louis XVI. hesitated, and replied that
he would consider farther of it. At the same council, Roland insisted on
reading, in the King's presence, a letter which he had already addressed to
him, and which it was consequently superfluous to communicate to him a
second time viva voce. This letter had been determined upon at the insti-
gation of Madame Roland, and it was her composition. It had been pre-
viously proposed that one should be written in the name of all the ministers.
They had refused; but Madame Roland continued to urge the point upon her
husband, till he resolved to take the step in his own name. To no purpose
did Duranthon, who was weak but discreet, object with reason that the tone*
of his letter, so far from persuading the King, would only sour him against
his ministers, who possessed the public confidence, and that a fatal rupture
between the throne and the popular party would be the result of it. Roland
persisted, agreeably to the advice of his wife and his friends. The Gironde,
in fact, was bent on coming to an explanation, and preferred a rupture to
uncertainty.
Roland, therefore, read this letter to the King, and made him listen in fuU
council to the harshest remonstrances. This famous letter was as follows :
" Sire, — The present state of France cannot last long. It is a state of
crisis, the violence of which has nearly attained the highest degree ; it must
terminate in a catastrophe which cannot but interest your majesty as deeply
as it concerns the whole empire.
" Honoured by your confidence, and placed in a post which renders truth
an imperative duty, I will venture to tell the whole truth : it is an obligation
which is imposed upon me by yourself.
" The French have (jiven tliemselves a constitution, which has made mal-
contents and rebels : nevertheless the majority of the nation is determined
to uphold that constitution. It has sworn to defend it at the price of its
blood, and it has hailed with joy the war which presented a powerful me-
dium for securing it. The minority, however, supported by hopes, lias
united all its efforts to gain the advantage. Hence that intestine struirsrle
against the laws, that anarchv which good citizens deplore, and of which
the malevolent eagerly avail themselves to calumniate the new system.
Hence that division everywhere difVused and everywhere excitcMl, for no-
where does indifference exist. People desire either the triumph, or a
changre, of the constitution. Thev act either to maintain or to alter it. I
shall abstain from examining what it is of itself, in order to consider only
what circumstances require ; and, expressing myself as dispassionately as
possible, I will seek what we are authorized to expect and what it is right
to favour. ,
VOL. I.— 32 >
250 HISTORY OF THE
Your majesty possessed great prerogatives, which you considered as per-
taining to royalty. Brought up in the idea of retaining them, you could
not see them taken from you with pleasure. The desire of recovering them
was therefore as natural as regret on seeing them annihilated. These senti-
ments, inherent in llie nature of the liuman heart, must have entered into
the calculation of the enemies of the Revolution ; they reckoned, tlierefore,
upon a secret favour, till circumstances sliould admit of a declared pro-
tection. This disposition could not escape the nation, nor fail to excite its
jealousy.
" Your majesty has therefore been constantly under the alternative of
yielding to your tirst habits, to your private alfections, or of making sacri-
fices dictated by phUosophy, and required by necessity ; consequently of
encouraging rebels by alarming the nation, or of appeasing the latter by
uniting yourself with it. Everything has its time, and that of uncertainty
has at length arrived.
" Can your majesty at the present day ally yourself openly with those
Avho pretend to reform the constitution, or ought you generously to strive
without reserve to render it triumphant? Such is the real question, the
solution of which the present state of affairs renders inevitable. As for that
highly metaphysical one, whether the French are ripe for liberty, its dis-
cussion is not to the purpose here, for it is not the point to judge M'hat we
shall become in a century, but to discover what the present generation is
capable of.
"Amidst the agitations in which we have been living for four years past,
what has happened ? Privileges burdensome to the people have been
abolished. Ideas of justice and equality have been universally diffused.
The opinion of the rights of the people has justified the feeling of its rights.
The recognition of the latter, solemnly proclaimed, has become a sacred
doctrine ; the hatred, inspired for ages by feudalism, has been exasperated
by the manifest opposition of most of the nobles to the constitution, which
destroys that system.
" During the first year of the Revolution, the people beheld in those
nobles, men odious for the oppressive privileges which they had possessed,
but whom they would have ceased to hate after the suppression of those
privileges, if the conduct of the nobility since that time had not strengthened
every possible reason for dreading it and for combating it as an irrecon-
cilable enemy.
"Attachment to the constitution has increased in the like proportion. Not
only are the people indebted to it for manifest benefits, but they have judged
that it was preparing for them still greater ; since those who were accus-
tomed to make them bear all the burdens were striving so powerfully to
overttirow or to modify it.
" The declaration of rights is become a political gospel, and the French
constitution a religion for which the people are ready to perish.
" Thus zeal has sometimes proceeded so far as to take the place of the
law ; and, when the latter was not sufficiently restrictive to repress dis-
turbances, the citizens have ventured to punish them themselves.
" Thus it is that the property of emigrants has been exposed to ravages
instigated by revenge. Hence too, so many departments have deemed
themselves constrained to pursue severe measures against the priests whom
public opinion had proscribed, and of whom it would have made victims.
" In this collision of interests, the sentiments of all have taken the tone
of passion. The country is not a word which the imagination has delighted
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 251
to embellish. It is a being to which people have made sacrifices, to which
they are becoiiiiiig' daily more and more strongly attached on account of the
anxieties wliich it occasions, wliich they have created with mighty eH'orts,
which rises from amidst alarms, and which is loved as much for what it has
cost as for what is lioped from it. All the attacks made upon it are but
means of kindling enthusiasm in its behalf. To what a height will this
enthusiasm attain, at the moment when hostile forces, assembled without,
coml)ine with internal intrigues for the purpose of striking the most fatal
blows! In all parts of tlie empire, the ferment is extreme; it will burst
forth in a terrible manner, unless a well-founded confidence in the intentions
of your majesty can at length allay it : but this confidence cannot be
established upon protestations ; it can no longer have anything but facts for
its basis.
" It is evident to the French nation that its constitution can go alone, that
the ijfovernment will have all the strcncfth that is necessary for it, the moment
that your majesty, absolutely bent on the triumpli of that constitution, shall
support the legislative body with all the power of the executive, sliall re-
move all pretext for the alarm of the people, and take away all hope from
the discontented.
" For example, two important decrees liave been passed. Both essen-
tially concern the public tranquillity and the welfare of the stale. The delay
in their sanction excites distrust. If it be furl]u;r prolonged, it will cause
discontent; and I am obligetl to confess that, in the present ellervescence
of opinions, discontent may lead to any consequences.
" It is too late to recede, and tliere are no longer any means of tem-
porizing. The Kevolution is accomplislied in people's minds. It will be
consummated at the expense of their blood, and cemented with it, if pru-
dence does not prevent the calamities which it is yet possible to avoid.
" I know that it may he imagined that everythino- may be elTected and
everything repressed by extreme measures ; but when force has been em-
ployed to overawe the Assembly, when terror has been spread throughout
Paris, and dissension and stupor in its environs, all France will rise with
indignation, and, t(>aring herself in pieces amidst the horrors of a civil \var,
Avill develope that stern energy, which is the parent alike of virtues and of
crimes, and is always fatal to those by whom it has been called forth.
"The welfare of the state and the happiness of your majesty are inti-
mately connected. No power is capable of separating them. Cruel pangs
and certain calamities will environ your throne, if it is not placed by your-
self upon the bases of the constitution, and strengthened liy the peace
which its maintenance must at length procure us. 'i'hus tlie state of opinion,
the course of events, motives for any particular line of policy, the interest
of your majesty, render indispensal)le tite oblisjation of uniting yourself with
the legislative body and respoiuling to the wish of the nation, who make a
necessity of that which priiu-iples present as a duty. But the sensibility
natural to this affectionate people is ready to find in that necessity a motive
for gratitude. You have been cruelly deceived, sire, when you have been
filled with aversion or distrust for a people so easily toiu-hed. It is by being
kept in perpetual uneasiness that you yourself have been led to a conduct
cahnilated to alarm. liCt them see that you are determined to aid the pro-
gress of that constitution to which they have attached their felicity, and you
will soon become the oliject of their thaidvsgiving.
" 'J'he conduct of the priests in many places, and the pretexts with which
fanaticism furnislied the discontented, have caused a wise law to be enacted
252 HISTORY OF THE
against the disturbers. Be pleased, sire, to give it your sanction. The
piihlic tranquillity claims it. The safety of the priest solicits it. If this law
be not put in force, tlie departments will be constrained to substitute for it,
as they do in every instance, violent measures, and the incensed people vi^ill,
for want of it, have recourse to outrages.
" The attempts of our enemies, the commotions which have broken out
in the capital, the extreme uneasiness excited by the conduct of your guard,
and which is still kept up by the testimonies of satisfaction which your ma-
jesty has been induced to bestow upon it, in a proclamation truly impolitic
under existing circumstances, and the situation of Paris, and its proximity
to the frontiers, have caused the want of a camp in its vicinity to be felt.
This measure, the prudence and urgency of which have struck all well-
meaning persons, is still waiting only fur your majesty's sanction. A¥hy
should delays be allowed to produce the appearance of reluctaiice, when
celerity would deserve gratitude ?
" Already have the proceedings of the staff of the national guard of Paris
against this measure, awakened a suspicion that it was acting from superior
instigation. Already are the declamations of certain furious demagogues
raising surmises of their connexion with the parties concerned for the over-
throw of the constitution. Already is public opinion compromising the
intentions of your majesty. A little longer delay, and the disappointed peo-
ple will imagine that in their King they behold the friend and accomplice of
the conspirators.
" Gracious Heaven ! hast thou stricken with blindness the powers of the
earth, and are they never to have any counsels but such as shall lead them
to perdition !
" I know that the austere language of truth is seldom relished near the
throne. I know, too, that it is because it is scarcely ever proclaimed there
that Revolutions are become necessary ; and above all, I know that it is my
duty to hold such language to your majesty, not only as a citizen subject to
the laws, but as a minister honoured by your confidence, or clothed with
functions which suppose it ; and I know nothing that can prevent me from
performing a duty of which I am conscious.
" It is in the same spirit that I shall repeat my representations to your
majesty on the utility of executing the law which directs that there shall be
a secretary to the council. The mere existence of the law speaks so power-
fully that it would seem that the execution ought to follow without delay ;
but it is of importance to employ all the means of insuring to the delil^era-
tions the necessary gravity, discretion, and maturity ; and for the responsible
ministers there ought to be a medium of recording their opinions. Had such
a medium existed, I should not on this occasion have addressed myself in
writing to your majesty.
" Life is not a consideration with the man who prizes his duties above all
things; but, next to the happiness of having performed them, the highest
satisfaction he can enjoy is diat of thinking that he has performed them
faithfully; which is an obligation incumbent on the public man.
"Paris, June 10, 1792, the fourth year of liberty.
" (Signed) Roland, "
The King listened to this lecture with the utmost patience, and withdrew
saying that he would communicate his intentions.
Dumouriez was summoned to the palace. The King and Queen were
together. " Ought we," said they, "to endure any longer the insolence of
these three ministers ?"— " No," replied Dumouriez. " Will you undertake
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 253
to rid us of them?" asked the King. "Yes, sire," answered the bold mi-
nister; "but in order to succeed, your majesty must consent to one condi-
tion. I have become unpopular, and I sluiU make myself still more so, by
dismissing three colleagues, the leaders of a powerful party. There is but
one way of persuading the public that they are not dismissed on account of
their patriotism." — "What is that?" inquired tlie King. " It is," replied
Dumouriez, " to sanction the two decrees;" and he repeated the reasons
which he had already given in full councU. The Queen exclaimed that the
condition was too hard : but Dumouriez represented to her that the twenty
tliousand men were not to be feared ; that tlie decree did not mention the
place where they were to be encamped ; tliat tliey might be sent to Soissons,
for instance ; that tliere they might be employed in military exercises, and after-
wards marched off l)y degrees to the armies, when the want of them began
to be feit. " But then," said the King, " it is necessary lliat you should be
minister at war." — " Notwithstanding the responsibility, I consent to it,"
replied Dumouriez, "but your majesty must sanction the decree against the
priests. I cannot serve you unless at that price. This decree, so far from
being injurious to tlie ecclesiastics, will place them beyond the reach of the
popular fury. Your majesty could do no otlier than oppose the first decree
of the Constituent Assembly which prescribed the oath ; now you can no
longer recede." — "I was wrong then," exclaimed Louis XVI, ; "I must
not commit a second fault." The Queen, who did not share the religious
scruples of her husband, joined Dumouriez, and for a moment tlie King
appeared to comply.
Dumouriez pointed out the new ministers to supply the places of Servan,
Clavieres, and Roland. These were Mourgues for the interior, and Beaulieu
for the finances. The war was consigned to Dumouriez, who, for the mo-
ment, held two departments, till that of foreign affairs should be filled. The
ordinance was immediately issued, and on the 13th, Roland, Clavieres, and
Servan, received tlieir official dismission, Roland, who possessed all the
nerve necessary for executing wliat the bold spirit of his wife was capable
of conceiving, repaired immediately to the Assembly, and read to it the letter
which he had written to the King, and for which he was dismissed. This
step was certainly allowable when once hostilities were declared ; but, as a
promise had been given to the King to keep the letter secret, it was by no
means generous to read it pul)licly.
The Assembly bestowed the greatest applause on Roland's letter, and
ordered it to be printed and sent to the eighty-three departments. It declared
moreover that the three displaced ministers carried with them the confidence
of the nation. It was at tliis very moment that Dumouriez, nothing daunted,
ventured to appear in the triljune with liis new title of minister at war. lie
had drawn up in the utmost haste a circumstantial report of the state of the
army, of the faidts of the administration and of the Assembly. He did not
spare those whom he knew to be disposed to give him the most unfavourable
reception. Tlie moment he appeared, he was assailed with violent hootings
by the Jacobins. The Feuillants maintained the most profound sihMice.
He first gave an account of a slight advantage gained by Lafayette and of the
death of Gouvion, an officer, a deputy, and an upright man, who, driven to
despair by the calamities of the country, had purposely sought death. The
Assembly bestowed its regrets on the loss of this generous citizen ; but
listened coldly to those of Dumouriez, and above all to the wish that he ex-
pressed to escape the same calamities by the same fate. But when he
announced his report as minister at war, a refusal to listen to him was mani-
Y
254 HISTORY OF THE
fested on all sides. He coolly desired to be heard, and at leng'th obtained
silence. His remonstrances irritated some of the deputies. " Do you hear
him ?" exclaimed Guadet: " he is lecturing us !" — " And why not?" coldly
replied the intrepid Dumouriez. Quiet was restored; he finished readinsr,
and was by turns hooted and applauded. As soon as he had done, he folded
up the paper for tlie purpose of taking it with him. " He is running awav !"
cried one. "No," rejoined he; and, boldly laying his memorial upon the
desk, again, he calmly signed it, and walked through the Assembly with
unshaken composure. Some of the members, who thronged round him as
he passed, said, " You will be sent to Orleans." — " So much tlie better," he
replied; "for I shall then take baths and curds, and get a little rest, which I
stand in need of."
His firmness cheered the King, who expressed his satisfaction; but the
unhappy prince was already shaken and tormented with scruples. Beset by
false friends, he had already taken up his former determinations, and refused
to sanction the two decrees.
The four ministers met in council, and entreated the King to give his
double sanction, which he had seemed to promise. The King drily replied,
that he could assent only to the decree relative to the twenty thousand men ;
that, as for that concerning the priests, he was determined to oppose it; that
his mind Avas made up ; and that threats could not frighten him. He read
the letter communicating his determination to the President of the Assembly.
"One of }'ou," said he to his ministers, "will countersign it;" and these
words he uttered in a tone which he had never been known to use before.
Dumouriez then wrote to him, soliciting his dismissal. " That man,"
exclaimed the King, " has made me dismiss three ministers because they
wanted to oblige me to adopt the decrees, and now he insists on my sanc-
tioning them !" This reproach was unjust, for it was onlj^ on condition of
the double sanction that Dumouriez had consented to remain in office after
his colleagues. Louis XVI. saw him, and asked if he persisted. " In that
case," said he, " I accept your resignation." The other ministers had
given in theirs also. The King, however, detained Lacoste and Duranthon,
and prevailed on them to remain. Messrs. Lajard, Chambonas, and Terrier
de Mont-Ciel, selected from among the Feuillans, were appointed to the
vacant ministerial departments.
" The Kingf," says Madame Campan, " sunk about this time into a
despondency that amounted even to physical debility. He was for teii days
together without uttering a word even in the midst of his family, excepting
at a game at backgammon, which he played with Madame Elizabeth after
dinner, when he merely pronounced the words which are used in that game.
The Queen roused him from this state, so ruinous in a crisis when every
minute brought with it the necessity for acting, by throwing herself at his
feet, and sometimes by employing images calculated to terrify him, at
others, expressions of her affection for him. She also urged the claims
which he owed to his family ; and went so far as to say that, if they must
perish, they ought to perish with honour, and not wait to be both stifled on
the floor of their own apartment."*
It is not dilUcult to guess the disposition of liOuis XVI. when he re-
covered his spirits and returned to business. After having once forsaken
the party of the Feuillans to throw himself into the arms of the Girondins,
he could not go back to the former with much cordiality and hope. He had
• Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 205.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 255
made the twofold experiment of liis incompatibility with both, and, what
was still worse, he had caused them all to make it, too. Thenceforward he
could not but think more than ever of foreign powers, and rest all his hopes
upon them. This disposition became evident to all, and it alarmed those
who beheld in the invasion of France the fall of liberty, the execution of
its defenders, and perhaps the partition and dismemberment of the kinirdom.
TiOuis XVI. saw none of these thing's, for we always shut our eyes to the
inconveniences of the course that we prefer.
Alarmed at the tumult produced by the route of Mons and Tournay, he
had sent Mallet dn Pan to Germany, with instnictions in his own hand-
writing, lie there recommended to the sovereigns to advance cautiously,
to treat the inhabitants of the provinces through which they should pass
with the titmost indulgence, and to send forth before them a manifesto pro-
fessing their pacific and conciliatory intentions.* Moderate as was this
* The mission given by the Kins;- to Mallet du Pan is one of the facts which it is of the
greatest importance to confirm ; and, from the allusions of Bertrand de MoUeville, no doubt
can be entertained on the subject. A minister at this period, Bertrand de Molleviile must
have possessed accurate information, and, as a counter-revolutionary minister, he would
rather have concealed than avowed such a fact. This mission proves the moderation of
Louis XVI., but likewise his communications with f )reigners.
" So far from sharing this patriotic security, the King saw with the deepest grief France
engaged in an unjust and sanguinary war, which the disorganization of her armies seemed
to render it impossible for her to maintain, and which more llian ever exposed our frontier
provinces to the dangers of invasion. Above ail things liis majesty dreaded civil war, and
had no doubt that it would break forth on the intelligence of the lirst advantage over the
French troops gained by the corps of emigrants forming part of the Austrian army. It
was, in fact, but too much to be apprehended that the Jacobins and the enraged populace
would exercise the most cruel reprisals against the priests and the nobles remaining in
France. These fears, which the King expressed to me in the daily corres[)ondence that I had
with his majesty, determined me to propose to him to send a confidential person to the em-
peror and the King of Prussia, to endeavour to prevail on their majesties not to act offen-
sively but at the last extremity ; and, before the entrance of their armies into the kingdom,
to issue a well-written manifesto, in which it should be declared that ' the emperor and the
King of Prussia, being forced to take up arms by the unjust aggression that had been made
upon them, attributed neither to the King nor to the nation, but to the criminal faction which
oppressed both, the declaration of war which had been notified to them ; that, in conse-
quence, so far from renouncing the sentiments of friendship which united them to the King
and to France, their majesties would fight only to deliver them from the yoke of the most
atrocious tyranny that had ever existed, and to assist them in re-establishing the legitimate
authority forcibly usurped, order, and tranquillity, without at all intending to interfere in any
way whatever in the form of government, but to insure to the nation the liberty of choosing
that which was best suited to it; that all idea of conquest was, therefore, far from the
thoughts of their majesties ; that private property should be not less respected than national
property ; that their majesties took under their s{)ccial safeguard all the pca(;eable and
faithful citizens; that their only enemies, as well as those of France, were the factious and
their adherents, and that their majesties wished to find out and to fight those alone.' Mallet
du Pan, whom the King esteemed for his abilities and integrity, was charged with this
mission. He was the more fit for it, inasmuch as he had never been seen at the palace, had
no connexion with any of the persons belonging to the court, and, bv taking the route of
Geneva, to which he was in the habit of making frequent journeys, his departure could not
give rise to any suspicion."
The King give Mallet du Pan instructions in his own handwriting, which are quoted by
Bertrand de MoUeville :
" L The King joins his entreaties to his exhortations, to prevail on the princes and the
emigrant French not to take from the present war, by a hostile and offensive concurrence on
their part, the character of a foreign war waged by one power against another;
"2. He recommends to them to rely upon him and the interfering courts for the discussion
and securing of their interests, when the moment for treating shall arrive;
'• 3. It is requisite that they appear only as parlies and not arbiters in the quarrel, as that
256 HISTORY OF THE
plan, it was nevertheless an invitation to advance into the country ; and,
besides, if such was the wish of the King, was that of the foreign princes
and rivals of France and of tlie inveteralely hostile emigrants the same ?
Was Louis XVI. assured that he should not be hurried away beyond his
intentions ? The ministers of Prussia and Austria themselves expressed
to Mallet du Pan the apprehensions which they felt on account of the vio-
lence of the emigrants, and it appears that he had some difficulty to satisfy
tliem on this head.* The Queen felt equally strong apprehensions on the
arbitration ought to be reserved for his majesty when Uberty shall be restored to him, and for
the powers who shall demand it;
"4. Any other conduct would produce a civil war in the interior, endanger the lives of
the King and of his family, overturn the throne, cause the royalists to be slaughtered, rally
around the Jacobins all the revolutionists who have seceded and are daily seceding from
them, rekindle an enthusiasm which is tending towards extinction, and render more obstinate
a resistance which will give way before the first successes, when the fate of the Revolution
shall not appear to be exclusively committed to those against whom it has been directed, and
who have been its victims ;
" 5. To represent to the courts of Vienna and Berlin the utility of a manifesto jointly
with the other states which have formed the concert; the importance of so wording this
manifesto as to separate the Jacobins from the rest of the nation, and to give confidence to
all those who are capable of renouncing their errors, or who, without wishing for the present
constitution, desire the suppression of abuses and the reign of moderate liberty, under a
monarch to whose authority the law sets limits ;
'• 6. To obtain the insertion in that document of this fundamental truth, that war is made
on an anti-social faction and not on the French nation ; that the allies take up the defence
of legitimate governments and nations against a ferocious anarchy, which breaks all the
bonds of sociability among men, all the conventions under the shelter of which liberty,
peace, public safety at home and abroad repose ; to dispel all apprehensions of dismembar-
ment; not to impose any laws, but to declare energetically to the Assembly, to the adminis-
trative bodies, to the municipalities, to the ministers, that they shall be held personally and
individually responsible, in their bodies and goods, for all outrages committed against the
sacred person of the King, against that of the Queen and of the royal family, and against
the persons or property of any citizens whatever ;
" 7. To express the wish of the King that, on entering the kingdom, the powers declare
that they are ready to give peace, but that they neither will nor can treat unless with the
King ; that in consequence they require that the most complete liberty be restored to him,
and that afterwards there be a congress assembled, in which the different interests shall be
discussed on bases already laid down, to which the emigrants shall be admitted as com-
plaining parties, and at which the general plan of claims shall be negotiated under the
auspices and the guarantee of the powers." — Bertrund de MnUeville, tome viii., p. 39.
* Bertrand de MoUeville, from whom I have borrowed the facts relative to Mallet du Pan,
thus expresses himself respecting the reception and the dispositions which he met with :
"On the 15th and 16lh of July, Mallet du Pan had had long conferences whh Count de
Cobentzel, Count de Haugwitz, and M. Heymann, ministers of the emperor and the King
of Prussia. After examining the credentials of his mission, and listening with extreme
attention to the reading of his instructions and of his memorial, those ministers acknow-
ledged that the views which he proposed perfectly agreed with those which the King had
previously expressed to the courts of Vienna and Berlin, which had respectively adopted
them. They had, in conseq\iencc, testified their entire confidence, and had approved in every
point the plan of the manifesto which he had proposed to them. They had declared to him,
in the most positive terms, that no views of ambition, no personal interest or design of dis-
memberment, entered into the plan of the war, and that the powers had no other view or
interest than the re-establishment of order in France, because no peace could exist between
her and her neighbours while she was a prey to the anarchy which prevailed, and which
obliged them to keep cordons of troops on all the frontiers, and to take extraordinary and
very expensive precautions of safety ; but that, so far from pretending to impose upon the
French any form of government whatever, the King should be left at perfect liberty to con-
cert with the nation on this subject. They had applied to him for the most circumstantial
information relative to the dispositions of the interior, the public opinion concerning the old
system, the parliaments, the nobility, &c., &c. They informed him in confidence that the
FRENXH REVOLUTION. 257
same subject. She dreaded Calonne in particular, as the inosl dangerous
of her enemies;* but she nevertheless conjured her family to act with the
greatest celerity for her deliverance. From tliat moment the popular party
could not help considering the court as an enemy so much the more dan-
gerous, because it had at its disposal all the forces of the state ; and the
combat that was commencing became a combat for life and death. The
King, in composing his new ministry, did not select any conspicuous man.
In expectation of his speedy deliverance, he had only to wait a few days
more, and for that interval the most insignificant ministry was sufficient.
The Feuillans thouglit to profit by the occasion to unite themselves again
to the court, less, it must be confessed, from personal ambition of party, than
Jhe interest which they felt for the King. They were far from reckoning
npon an invasion. Most of them regarded it as a crime, and pregnant, more-
over, with equal danger to the court and tlie nation. They rightly foresaw
that the King must succumb before succour could arrive ; and they dreaded
lest the invasion should be followed by the atrocities of revenge, perhaps
the dismemberment of the territory, and certainly tlie abolition of all
liberty.
Laily-Tollendal, who, as we have seen, quitted France as soon as the
formation of tlie two chambers became impossible ; Malouet, who had made
a last attempt in their favour at the time of die revision ; Duport, Lamolh,
Lafayette, and others, who were desirous that things should remain as they
were, united to make a last effort. This party, like all the other parties,
was not in perfect harmony with itself. It united Avitli one view only, that
of savino" the King from liis errors, and of saving the constitution Avith him.
Every party, obliged to act in secret, is forced to resort to proceedings
Avhich are termed intrigues when they are not successful. In this sense the
Feuillans intrigued. As soon as they saw the dismissal of Servan, Cla-
vieres, and Roland, effected by Dumouriez, they sought the latter, and
offered him tlieir alliance, on condition that he would sign the vflo to the
decree against the priests. Dumouriez, perhaps from spleen, perhaps from
want of confidence in their means, and no doubt also, on account of the
engagement he had made to obtain the King's sanction of the decree, refused
this alliance, and repaired to the army, wishing, as he wrote to the Assem-
bly, that some cannon-ball might reconcile all the opinions respecting him.
emigrants were destined to form an army to be given to the King when he should be set at
liluTty. The French princes had been spoken of in an ill-natured and prejudiced manner :
they were supposed to harbour intentions directly contrary to those of the King, and espe-
cially those of acting independently and creating a rejjent. [Mallet du Pan strongly com-
bated this supposition, and observed, that the intentions of the princes ought not to be
inferred from the silly or extravagant language of some of those around them.] Lastly,
after having fully discussed the dilfi rent demands and proposals on which Mallet du Pan
was directed to insist, the three ministers had unanimously acknowledged their prudence and
justice, had each desired to have a note or summary of them, and had given the most formal
assurances that the views of the King, being perfectly accordant with those of the powers,
should be strictly followed." — liirtrand de Mvlltvi/le, tome viii., p. .320.
* " The party of the princes," says Madame Campan, " having been informed of the
coalition of the remains of the constitutional f)arty with the Queen, was greatly alarmed
at it. The Queen, for her part, always dreaded the parly of the princes, and the pretensions
of the French who composed it. She did justice to Count d'Artois, and freiiuently said that
his party would act in a spirit contrary to his own sentiments for the King, her brother, and
for herself, but that he would be led away by persons over whom Cal')nne had the most
mischievous ascendency. She reproached Count d'Eslerhazy, on whom favours had been
heaped through her means, with having become so decided a partisan of Calonne's, that she
could even consider mm as an enemy," — Mentoircs de Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 193.
VOL. I.— 33 V 2
258 HISTORY OF THE
The Feuillans still had Lafayette left. Without taking part in their
secret proceedings, he had shared iheir dislike of Dumouriez, and was,
above all, desirous of saving the King, without injuring tlie constitu-
tion. Their means were feeble. In the first place, the court which they
strove to save would not be saved by them. The Queen, who cheerfully
confided in Barnave, had always adopted the greatest precautions in her
interviews with him, and had never admitted him except in secret. The
emigrants and the court would not have forgiven her for seeing constitu-
tionalists. They recommended to her, in fact, not to treat with them, and
rather to prefer the Jacobins, because, as they said, it would be necessary
to make concessions to the former, but it would not be bound to any terms
with the latter.* If to this oft-repeated advice be added the personal hatred
of the Queen for M. de Lafayette,! it will be easy to conceive that the court
Avould be very reluctant to accept the services of constitutionalists and
Feuillans. Besides this aversion of the court to them, we must also consider
the feebleness of the means which they had to employ against the popular
party. Lafayette, it is true, was adored by his soldiers, and could rely
upon his army ; but he was in front of the enemy, and he could not leave
the frontier uncovered for die purpose of marching into the interior. Old
Luckner, by whom he was supported, was weak, fickle, and easily intimi-
dated, though very brave in the field. But could they even have reckoned
upon their military resources, the constitutionalists possessed no civil means.
The majority of the Assembly belonged to the Gironde. The national
guard was in part devoted to them, but it was disunited and disorganized.
In order to employ their military forces, they would therefore have been
compelled to march from the frontiers upon Paris ; that is to say, to attempt
an insurrection against the Assembly ; and insurrections, however advan-
tageous for a violent party which adopts the offensive side, are unsuitable
and ruinous to a moderate party, which, in resisting, supports itself by the
laws.
Many, nevertheless, rallied round Lafayette, and concerted with him the
plan of a letter to the Assembly. Tliis letter, written in his name, was
intended to express his sentiments relative to the King and the constitution,
and his disapprobation of every thing that tended to attack either. His
friends were divided. Some excited, others restrained his zeal. But think-
ing only of what was likely to serve the King, to whom he had sworn
fidelity, he wrote the letter; and defied all the dangers which were about to
threaten his life. The King and Queen, though determined not to make use
of him, allowed him to write, because they beheld in this step only an
• " Meanwhile the emigrants betrayed great apprehension of all that might be done at
home, in consequence of the coalition with the constitutionalists, whom they described as
existing only in idea, and as mere ciphers in regard to the means of repairing their blunders.
The Jacobins were to be preferred to them, because, it was alleged, there would be no
occasion to treat with any one at the moment when the King and the royal family should
be rescued from the abyss into which they were plunged." — Mcmoires de Madame Carnpan,
tomeii., p. 194.
I " On one occasion, when Madame Elizabeth advised the Queen to place confidence in
Lafayette, her majesty made answer, that it was better to perish than to be saved by Lafay-
ette and the constitutionalists. 'We know that the general will save the King, but he will
not save royalty,' was the public language of the Tuileries. The Queen remembered that
Mirabeau, shortly before his death, had predicted to her that, in case of a war, 'Lafayette
would desire to keep the King a prisoner in his tent.' She was in the habit of replying to
those who spoke to her in the general's favour, ' It would be too hard upon us to be twice
indebted to him for our lives.' " — Lafayette's Memoirs. E.
I
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 259
exchange of reproaches between the friends of liberty. The letter reached
the Assembly on the 18th of June. Lafayette, disapproving in tlie first
place of the late minister, whom, he said, he meant to denounce at the
moment when he was informed of his dismissal, proceeded in these terms:
" It is not enough that this branch of the government be delivered from a
baneful influence; the pul)lic weal is in danger; the fate of France depends
chiefly on her representatives: from them the nation expects its salvation;
but, in giving itself a constitution, it has marked out for them the only route
by which they are to save it."
Then, protesting his inviolable attachment to the law which had been
sworn to, he expatiated on the state of France, which he saw placed be-
tween two kinds of enemies, those abroad, and those at home.
" Both must be destroyed. But you will not have the power to destroy
them, unless you be constitutional and just. Look around you ; can you
deny that a faction, and, to avoid every vague denomination, that the .Jaco-
bin faction, has caused all these disorders ? It is to this faction that I loudly
attribute them. Organized like a separate empire, in its principal society
and its alhliations, blindly directed by a few ambitious leaders, this party
forms a distinct corporation amongst the French people, whose powers it
usurps by overawing its representatives and its functionaries.
" It is there that, in the pul)lic sittings, love of the laws is called aristo-
cracy, and their violation, patriotism ; — there the assassins of Desilles re-
ceive triumphs, the crimes of .Tourdan* find panegyrists; — there the account
of the murder which has sullied the city of Metz has but just now excited
infernal acclamations.
" Will they expect to escape from these reproaches by bragging of an
Austrian manifesto in which these sectaries are mentioned ? Have they
become sacred since Leopold has pronounced their name ? And, because
we must combat foreigners who interfere in our quarrels, are we to dispense
with the duty of delivering our country from a domestic tyranny ?"
Then, recapitulating his former services for liberty, and enumerating the
guarantees which he had given to the country, the general answered for
himself and his army, and declared that the French nation, if it was not
the vilest in the world, could and ought to resist the conspiracy of the kings
who had coalesced against it. " But," added he, " in order that we, soldiers
of liberty, should fight with eflicacy, and die with benefit for her, it is re-
quisite that the number of the defenders of the country should be speedily
proportioned to that of its adversaries ; that supplies of all kinds be multi-
plied to facilitate our movements ; that tiie well-being of the troops, their
equipments, their pay, and the arrangements relative to their health, be no
longer subject to fatal delays." Then followed other advice, the principal
and last of which was this : " Let the reign of the chilis, annihilated liy
you, give place to the reign of the law; their usurpations to the linn and
independent exercise of the constituted authorities ; their disorganizing
* " M. Jouve .lourdan, entitled the ' Bchcader,' was bom in 1749. He was sucresslvcly
a butcher, a blacksmith's journeyman, a smuggler, a servant, general of the army of Vaucluse
in 1791, and tliially leader of a squadron of national gendarmerie. In the massacres of A''er-
sailles he cut off the heads of two of the King's body guards. He boasted also of having
torn out the hearts of Foulon and Rertier, and called on the National Assembly to reward
him for this deed with a civic medal I He was also one of the chief instigators of the mas-
sacres at Avignon. In 1794 he was condemned to death as a federalist. Jourdan was
remarkable for wearing a long beard, which was often besprinkled with blood." — Biographie
Moderne. E. ^
260 HISTORY OF THE
maxims, to the genuine principles of liberty ; their frantic fury, to the calm
and persevering courage of a nation wliicli knows its rights and defends
them ; and lasdy, their sectarian combinations to the true interests of the
country, whicli, in this moment of danger, ought to rally around them all
those to wliom its subjugation and ruin are not objects of atrocious satisfac-
tion and infamous speculation !"
This was saying to exasperated passions, " Stop !" to the parties them-
selves, " Put an end to your own existence !" to a torrent, " Cease to flow !"
But though the advice was useless, it was not the less a duty to give it.
The letter was highly applauded by the riglit side. The left was silent.
No sooner was the reading of it finished, than it was proposed to print and
send it to the departments.
Vergniaud asked and obtained permission to speak. According to him it
was of importance to that liberty, which M. de Lafayette had hitherto so
ably defended, to make a distinction between the petitions of private citi-
zens, who offered advice or claimed an act of justice, and the lectunjs of an
armed general. Tlie latter ought never to express his sentiments unless
through the medium of the ministry, otherwise liberty would be undone.
It was, therefore, expedient to pass to the order of the day. M. Thevenot
replied, that the Assembly ought to receive from die lips of M. de Lafayette
tiniths which it had not dared to tell itself. This last observation excited a
great tumult. Some members denied tlie authenticity of the letter. " Even
if it were not signed," exclaimed M. Coube, " none but M. de Lafayette
could have written it." Guadet demanded permission to speak upon a
matter of fact, and assei-ted that die letter could not be that of M. de Lafay-
ette, because it adverted to the dismissal of Dumouriez, which had not taken
place till the 16th, and it was dated die very same day. " It is therefore im-
possible," he added, " tliat the person whose name is signed to it should
have made mention of a fact which could not have been known to him. Either
the signature is not his, or it Avas attached to a blank, which was left for a
faction to fill up at its pleasure."
A great uproar followed these words. Guadet resumed : he said that M.
de Lafayette was incapable, according to his known sentiments, of having
written such a letter. " He must know," added he, " that when Crom-
Avcll ..." Dumas, the deputy, unable to contain himself, at this last word,
desired to be heard. Agitation prevailed for a considerable time in the As-
sembly. Guadet, however, regained possession of die tribune, and began :
" I was saying . . ." Again he was interrupted. " You were at Crom-
well," said some one to him. " I shall return to liim," he replied. " I
was saying that M. de Lafayette must know that when Cromwell held a
similar language, liberty was lost in England. It is expedient either that
we ascertain whether some coward has not sheltered himself beneath the
name of M. de Lafayette, or prove by a signal example lo the French
people that we have not taken a vain oath in swearing to maintain the con-
stitution."
A great number of members attested the signature of M. de Lafayette.
The letter was, nevertheless, referred to the committee of twelve for the
purpose of ascertaining its authenticity. It was thus deprived of the honour
of being printed and sent to the departments.
This generous procedure then proved absolutely useless, and could not be
otherwise in the existing state of the public mind. From that moment, tlie
general became almost as unpopular as the court ; and if the leaders of the
Gironde, more enlightened dian the populace, did not believe M. de Lafay-
FRENCH REVOLUTIOX. 261
ctte capable of betraying his country because he had attacked the Jacobins,
the mass nevertheless believed him to be so, because it was constantly re-
peated in the clubs, in the newspapers, and in the public places, that he
was.
Thus the alarm which the court had excited in the popular party was
heightened by that which M. de Lafayette had just added to it by a step of
his own. This party tiien became absolutely desperate, and resolved to
strike a blow at the court before it could carry into execution the plots of
which it was accused.
We have already seen how the popular party was composed. In speak-
ing out more decidedly, it also manifested a more decided character, and
several additional persons rendered themselves conspicuous in it. Robes-
pierre has already been mentioned at the Jacobins, and Danton at the (Jor-
deliers. The clubs, the municipality, and the sections, comprised many
men who, from the ardour of their disposition and opinions, were ready for
any enterprise. Among these were Sergent and Panis, whose names, at a
later period, were connected with a terrible event. In the fauxbourgs were
remarked several commanders of battalions, who had rendered themselves
formidable. The principal of these was a brewer named Santerre. By his
stature, his voice, and a certain fluency of speech, he pleased the people,
and had acquired a kind of sway in the fauxbourg St. Antoine, the battalion
of which he commanded. Santerre had already distinguished himself in
the attack on Vincennes, repulsed by Lafayette in February, 1791 ; and,
like all men who are too easily wrought upon, he was capable of becoming
very dangerous, according to the excitement of the moment.* He attended
all the Aictious meetings held in the distant fauxbourgs. There, too, were
to be found Carra, the journalist, prosecuted for an attack on Bertrand de
MoUeville and Montmorin ; Alexandre, commandant of the fauxboursj St.
Marceau ; a person well known by the name of Fournier the American ; Le-
gendre,t the butcher, who was afterwards a deputy of the Convention ; a
journeyman goldsmith, named Rossignol ; and several others, who, by their
communications with the populace, set all the fauxbourgs in commotion.
* " M. Grammont, assured me he was positively informed that Santerre had entertained a
project to have the Queen assassinated, and that a grenadier of his battalion had engaged to
perpetrate the crime for a considerable sum of money, a small part of which he had already
received. The grenadier in question, added M. Grammont, was sufficiently remarkable by a
scar in his left cheek. The 14th of July, the day of the Federation, was the time fixed on
for the execution of the project. On that day, accordingly, M. Grammont went himself to
the palace. The grenadier appeared at eight o'clock at night, and, though he was perceived
by the sentinel, yet he had the address to make his escape. He returned, however, the same
night in his uniform, and was taken up at the bottom of the stair leading to the Queen's
apartment. He was recognised by the scar, and conducted to the guard-room. On search-
ing him, a cutlass was found concealed in the lining of his coat. The next morning, just
as he was going to be brought before the justice of peace, he waa carried off by a band of
ruffians, who came to the palace on purpose to rescue him." — Private Memoirs «f Bertrand
de MoUeville. E.
■j- '• L. JiCgendre was ten years a sailor, and afterwards a butcher at Paris. At the break-
ing out of the Revolution he was one of the earliest and most violent leaders of the mob.
In 1791 he was deputed by the city of Paris to the Convention. In 1793 he voted for the
King's death, and, the day before his execution, proposed to the Jacobins to cut him into
eighty-four pieces, and send one to each of the eighty-four departments ! He was one of the
chief instigators of the atrocities of Lyons; and at Die])pe, when some persons complained
of the want of bread, he answered, ' Well, eat the aristocrats !' Legendre died at Paris in
1797, aged forty-one, and bequeathed his body to the surgeons, ' in order to be useful to
mankind after his de^h.' " — Biugruphie Muderne. E.
262 HISTORY OF THE
By the most conspicuous among tliem they communicated with the chiefs
of the popular party, and were tlms able to conform their movements to a
superior direction.
It is impossible to designate in a precise manner such of the deputies as
contributed to this direction. The most distinguished of them were strangers
to Paris, and possessed no other influence there but that of their eloquence.
Guadet, Isnard, Vergniaud, were all natives of the provinces, and commu-
nicated more with their departments than with Paris. Besides, though
extremely ardent in the tribune, they were not at all active out of the
Assembly, and were not capable of exciting the multitude. Condorcet and
Brissot, deputies of Paris, were not more active than those just mentioned,
and, by the conformity of their opinions with those of the deputies of the
West and South, they had become Girondins. Roland, since the dismissal
of the patriot ministry, had returned to private life. He occupied an humble
and obscure dwelling in the Rue St. Jacques. Persuaded that the court
entertained the design of delivering up France and liberty to foreigners, he
deplored the calamities of his country in conjunction with some of his friends,
who were members of the Assembly. It does not. however, appear that
any plans were formed in his society for attacking the court. He merely
promoted the printing of a paper entided La Sentinelle, which was con-
ducted in a patriotic spirit by Louvet, already known at the Jacobins by his
controversy with Robespierre. Roland, during his ministry, had allowed
funds for the purpose of enlightening the public opinion by means of the
press, and it was with a remnant of these funds that La Sentinelle was
carried on.
About this period there was, at Paris, a young native of Marseilles, full
of ardour, courage, and republican illusions, and who, on account of his
extraordinary beauty, was called the Antinous. He had been deputed by
his commune to the legislative Assembly, to complain of the directory of
his department ; for this division between the inferior and superior authori-
ties, between the municipalities and the directories of departments, was
general throughout all France. The name of this young man was Barba-
roux.* Possessing intelligence and great activity, he was likely to become
very serviceable to the popular cause. He met Roland, and deplored with
him the dangers with which the patriots were threatened. They agreed
that, as the danger was daily growing greater in the north of France, they
ought, if driven to the last extremity, to retire to the south, and there found
a republic, which they might some day extend, as Charles VII. had formerly
extended his kingdom from Bourges. They examined the map with Ser-
van, the ex-minister, and said to each other that. Liberty, if beaten upon the
Rhine and beyond it, ought to retire behind the Vosges and the Loire ; that,
driven from these intrenchments, she would still have left, in the east, the
Doubs, the Ain, and the Rhone ; in die west, the Vienne and the Dordogne ;
* " Charles Barbaroux, deputy to the Convention, was born at Marseilles. He embraced
the cause of the Revolution with uncommon ardour, and came to Paris in July, 1792, with
a few hundred Marseillais, to bring about a revolution against the court. He had a con-
siderable share in the insurrection of the 10th of August. He belonged to the party of the
Girondins, and was guillotined in Bordeaux in 1794." — Riographie Moderne. E.
"Barbaroux's ingenious disposition and ardent patriotism inspired us with confidence.
Discoursing on the bad situation of afTairs, and of our apprehensions of despotism in the
North under Robespierre, we formed the conditional plan of a republic in the South. Bar-
baroux was one whose features no painter would disdain to copy for the head of an Anti-
nous." — Madame Roland's Memoirs. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 263
in the centre, the rocks and the rivers of the Limousin. "And beyond
these," added Barbaroux, " we have the Auvergne, its steep hills, its
ravines, its aged forests, and the mountains of the Velay, laid waste of old
by fire, now covered with pines ; a wild country, where men plough amidst
snow, but where they hve independently. The Cevennes would offer us
another asylum too celebrated not to be formidable to tyranny ; and in the
extreme south, we should find for barriers the Isere, the Durance, the KhOne
from Lyons to the sea, the Alps, and the ramparts of Toulon. Lastly, if
all these points were forced, we should have Corsica left — Corsica, where
neither Genoese nor French have been able to naturalize tyranny ; which
needs but hands to be fertile, and philosophers to be enlightened."*
It was natural that the natives of the South should think of betaking
themselves to their provinces in case the North should be invaded. They
did not, however, neglect the North, for they agreed to write to their
departments, to induce them to form spontaneously a camp of twenty thou-
sand men, though the decree relative to this camp had not yet been sanctioned.
They reckoned much upon Marseilles, an opulent city, with a numerous
population, and extremely democratic. It had sent Mirabeau to the States-
general, and it had since diffused over all the South the spirit with which it
•was itself animated. The mayor of that city was a friend of Harbaroux,
and held the same opinions as he did. Barbaroux wrote, desiring him to
provide supplies of corn, to send trusty persons into the neighbouring depart-
ments as well as to the armies of the Alps, of Italy, and of the Pyrenees,
in order to prepare the public opinion there ; to sound Montesquiou, the
commander of the army of the Alps, and to turn his ambition to the advan-
tage of liberty ; lastly, to concert with Paoli and the Corsicans, so as to
secure a sure aid and a last asylum. It was also recommended to the same
mayor to retain the produce of the taxes in order to deprive the executive
government of it, and in case of need to employ it against the latter. What
Barbaroux did for Marseilles, others did for their departments, and thought
of insuring a refuge for themselves. Thus distrust, converted into despair,
paved the way for a general insurrection, and, in the preparations for
insurrection, there was already a marked difference between Paris and the
departments.
Petion, the mayor, connected with all the Girondins, and subsequently
classed and proscribed with them, had from his functions much intercourse
with die agitators of Paris. He had great composure, an appearance of
coldness which his enemies mistook for st\ipi(lity, and an integrity which
was extolled by his partizans and never attacked by his slanderers. The
people, who give distinctive appellations to all those who engage their atten-
tion, called him Virtue Petiun. "We have already mentioned him on occa-
sion of the journey to Verennes, and of the preference given him by the
court to liafayette for the mayoralty of Paris. The court hoped to bribe
him, and certain swindlers promised to accomplish this matter. They
demanded a sum of money, which they kept, without having even made
overtures to Petion, whose well known character would have rendered diem
useless. The jov felt by tlie court at the prospect of gaining a supporter
and corrupting a popular magistrate, was of short duration. It soon disco-
vered that it had been cheated, and that its adversaries were not so venal as
it had imagined.
Petion had been one of the first to take for granted that the propensities
if * Memoires de Barbaroux, pp. 38, 39.
264 HISTORY OF THE
of" a King, born to absolute power, are not to be modified. He was a re-
publican before any one ever dreamt of a republic ; and in the Constituent
Assembly he was from conviction, what Robespierre was from the acerbity
of his temper. Under the liCgislative Assembly, he became still more con-
vinced of the incorrigibleness of the court. He was persuaded that it would
call in foreigners, and, as he had before been a republican from system, he
now became so for the sake of safety. Thenceforward he resolved in his
mind, as he said, how to promote a new revolution. He checked ill-directed
movements, favoured on the contrary such as were judicious, and strove
above all thino-s to reconcile them with tlie law, of which he was a strict
observer, and which he was determined not to violate but at the last ex-
tremity.
Though we are not well acquainted with the extent of the participation
of Petion in the movements which were preparing, and know not whether
he consulted his friends of the Gironde for the purpose of promoting them,
we are authorized by his conduct to assert that he did nothing to impede
them. It is alleged that, in the latter part of June, he went to the house of
Santerre with Robespierre, Manuel, procureur syndic of the commune,
Sillery, ex-constituent, and Chabot, ex-capuchin and deputy ; that the latter
harangued the section of the Quinze-Vingts, and said that the Assembly was
waiting for it. Whether these circumstances be true or noi, it is certain
that clandestine meetings were held ; and from the well-known opinions and
subsequent conduct of the persons above named, it is not to be believed that
they had any scruple to attend them.* From that moment a fete for the
* Among the depositions contained in the proceedings instituted against the authors of the
20th of June, is one that is extremely curious, on account of the particulars which it fur-
nishes — I mean that of Lareyiiie. It comprehends almost everything that is repeated by
the other witnesses, and therefore we quote it in preference. These proceedings were printed
in quarto.
"Before us appeared Sieur Jean Baptiste Marie Louis Lareynie, a volunteer soldier of the
battalion of the Isle St. Louis, decorated v^ith the military cross, dwelling in Paris, Quai
Bourbon, No. 1 ;
" Who, deeply afflicted at the disturbances which have recently taken place in the capital,
and conceiving it to be the duly of a good citizen to furnish justice with all the information
that it can need in these circumstances, for the purpose of punishing the abettors and instiga-
tors of all manojuvres against the public tranquillity and the integrity of the French constitu-
tion, has declared that, for a week past, he has known, from acquaintance that he has in the
fauxbourg St. Antoine, that the citizens of that fauxbourg were worked up by the Sieur
Santerre, commandant of the i)attalion of the Enfans-Trouves, and by other persons, atnong
whom were the Sieur Fournier, calling himself an American, and elector, in 1791, of the
department of Paris; the Sieur Rotondo, who calls himself an Italian; the Sieur Legendre,
butcher, living in the Rue des Boucheries. fauxbourg St. Germain ; the Sieur Cuirette Ver-
rieres, living over the coffee-house of Rendez-Vous, Rue du Theatre-Franpais; who held by
night secret meetings at the Sieur Santerrc's, and sometimes in the committee-room of the
section of the Enfans-Trouves ; that the deliberations were there carried on in the presence
of a very small numlier of trusty persons of the fiiuxbourg, such as the Sieur Rossignol, lately
a journeyman goldsmith ; the Sieur Nicolas,sapper of the said battalion of the Enfans-Trouves ;
the Sieur Brierre, wine merchant; the Sieur Gonor, who calls himself the conqueror of the
Bastille, and others whom he could name; that there they determined upon the motions
which should be discussed by the groups at the Tuileries, the Palais Royal, the Place de
Greve, and especially at the Porte St. Antoine; that there were drawn up the incendiary pla-
cards posted from time to lime in the fauxbourgs, and the petitions destined to be carried by
deputations to the patriotic societies of Paris ; and laslly, that there was framed the famous
petition, and there hatched the plot of the '20th of this month. That on the preceding night
there was held a secret committee at the Sieur Santerre's, which began almost at midnight,
and at which witnesses, whom he can bring forward when they have returned from the errand
on which they have been sent by the Sieur Santerre to the neighbouring country, declare
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 265
20th of June, the anniversary of the oath at the Tennis Court, was talked
of in the fauxbourgs. It was said that a tree of liberty was to be planted on
the terrace of the Feuillans, and a petition presented to the Assembly as well
as to the King. This petition, moreover, was to be presented in arms. It
they saw present Messrs. Petion, mayor of Paris; Robespierre; Manuel, solicitor of the nom-
mune; Alexandre, comitiamlant of the battalion of St. Michel; and SiJlery, ox-deputy of the
National Assembly. That, on the 20th, the Sieur Santerre, seeing that several of his people,
and especially the leaders of his party, deterred by the resolution {arreti') of the directory of
the department, refused to go down armed, alleging that they should be fired upon, assured
them that they had n<Hhing to fear, that the national gtiurd luinild not have any orders, and
that M. Petion would be there. That, about eleven o'clock in the forenoon of the said day,
the concourse did not amount to more than about fifteen hundred persons, including those
drawn together by curiosity, and that it was not till the Sieur Santerre, leaving his house, and
putting himself at the head of a detachment of invalids, had arrived at the Place, and by the
way excited the spectators to join him; that the multitude increased considerably till his
arrival at the passage of the Feuillans; that there, not having dared to force the post, he
turned into the court of the (Capuchins, where he caused the may, which he had destined for
the palace of the Tuileries, to be planted ; that then he, this deponent, asked several persons
in the train of the said Sieur Santerre why the may was not planted on the terrace of the
palace, as had been agreed upon, and that these persons replied tiial they should take aood
care not to do any such thing,- that it was a snare into which the Feuillanfin.i meant to
lead them because there were guns placed in the garden,- but that they should not run
into the trap. The deponent observed that, at this moment, the mob was almost entirely
dispersed, and that it was not till the drums and music were heard in the vicinity of the
National Assembly, that the people, then scattered here and there, raUied, and, joined by the
other spectators, filed off quietly three deep, before the legislative body ; that he, de]ioncnt,
remarked that these people, in passing into the Tuileries, were guilty of no misdemeanor, and
did not attempt to enter the palace; that even when assembled in the Place du Carrousel,
where they arrived after going round by the Quai du liOuvre, they manifested no intention
of penetrating into the courts till the arrival of the Sieur Santerre, who was at the National
Assembly, and did not leave it before the sitting was over. That then the Sieur Santerre,
accompanied by several persons, among whom he, deponent, remarked the Sieur Hurugue,
addressed the mob, which was at that time very quiet, and asked why they had not entered
the palace,- that they must go in, and that this was what they had come for. That imme-
diately he ordered the gunners of his battalion to follow him with one [)iece of cannon, and
said that, if he was refused admittance, he must break open the gate with cannon-balls ; that
afterwards he proceeded in this manner to the gate of the palace, where he met with a faint
resistance from the horse gendarmerie, but a firm opposition on the part of the national guard ;
that this occasioned great noise and agitation, and they would probably have come to blows,
had not two men, in scarfs of the national colours, one of whom he, deponent, knew to be
the Sieur Boucher-Reiiii, and the other was said by the spectators to be the Sieur Sergenf,
come by way of the courts, and ordered, he must say, in a very imperious, not to say insolent
tone, at the same time prostituting the sacred name of the law, the gates to be opened,
adding, that nobody had a right to close them, but every citizen had a right to enter ; that
the gates were accordingly opened by the national guard, and that then Santerre and his
band rushed confusedly into the courts; that the Sieur Santerre, who had cannon drawn
forward to break open the doors of the King's apartments if he found them fastened, and to
lire upon the national guard in case it should oppose his incursion, was stopped in his pro-
gress in the last court on the left, at the foot of the staircase of the Pavilion by a group of
citizens, who addressed him in the most reasonable language with a view to appease his fury,
and threatened to make him responsible for all the mischief that should be done on that fatal
day, because, said they to him, you are the sole cause of this uncan^titutiontd a^scniblmre,
you alont have viiskd these good people, and you are the only villain uiuoiig them. That
the tone in which these honest citizens spoke to the Sieur Santerre caused him to turn pale;
but that, encouraged by a look from the Sieur Legendre, butcher, above named, he had
recourse to a hyjiocritical subterfuge, addressing his band, and saying, 'Gentl'mni. draw up
a report of my refusal lo march at your head into the King's apartments ,-' that the mob,
accustomed to guess the Siour Santerre's meaning, by way of answer, fill upon the group of
honest citizens, entered with its cannon and its commandant, the Sieur Santerre, and pene-
trated into the apartments by all the passages, after having broken in pieces the doors and
windows."
VOL. I. — 34 Z
266 HISTORY OF THE
is obvious that the real intention of this scheme was to strike terror into the
palace by the sight of forty thousand pikes.
On the 16th of June, a formal application was addressed to the general
council of the commune that tlie citizens of the fauxbourg St. Antoine should
be authorized to meet on the 2()tli in arms, and to present a petition to the
Assembly and to the King. The general council of the commune passed to
the order of the day, and directed that its resolution [arrete) should be com-
municated to the directory and to the municipal body. The petitioners did
not regard this proceeding as a condemnation of their purpose, and declared
loudly that they would meet in spite of it. It was not till the 18th that
Petion, the mayor, made the communications ordered on the 16th: he
made them, moreover, to the department only and not to the municipal
body.
On the 19th, the directory of the department, which we have seen exert-
ing itself on all occasions against agitators, passed a resolution [arrete) for-
bidding armed assemblages, and enjoining the commandant-general and the
mayor to employ the measures necessary for dispersing tliem. This reso-
lution was notilied to the Assembly by tlie minister of the interior, and a
discussion immediately arose on the question whether it should be read or
not.
Vergniaud opposed its being read, but unsuccessfully. The reading of
the resolution was immediately followed by the order of the day.
Two circumstances of considerable importance had just occurred in the
Assembly. The King had signified his opposition to tlie two decrees, one
of which related to the nonjuring priests, and the other to the formation of a
camp of twenty thousand men. This communication had been received in
profound silence. At the same time, some persons from Marseilles had ap-
peared at the bar for the purpose of reading a petition. We have just seen
what kind of correspondence Barbaroux kept up with them. Excited by his
counsels, they had Avritten to Petion, oflering him all their forces,* and this
offer was accompanied with a petition to the Assembly. In this petition
they said among other things :
"French liberty is in danger, but the patriotism of the South will save
France. The day of the people's wrath is arrived Legislators, the
power of the people is in your hands; make use of it: French patriotism
demands your permission to march with a more imposing force towards the
capital and the frontiers You will not refuse the sanction of the
law to those who would cheerfully perish in its defence,"
This petition gave rise to long debates in the Assembly. The members
of the right side maintained that, to send such a decree to the departments,
Avould be inviting them to insurrection. Its transmission was nevertheless
decreed, in spite of these remarks, Avhich were certainly very just but una-
vailing, since people were persuaded that nothing but a new revolution could
save France and liberty.
Such had been the occurrences of the 19th. Notwithstanding the resolu-
tion of the directory, the movements continued in the fauxbourgs, and it is
affirmed that Santerre said to his trusty partisans, who were somewhat inti-
• "When the Marseillois soon afterwards arrived in Paris, though only about five hundred
in number, they marched through the city to the terror of the inhabitants, their "Keen black
eyes seeming to seek out aristocratic victims, and their songs partaking of the wild Moorish
character that lingers in the south of France, denouncing vengeance on kings, priests, and
nobles, ' I never,' says Madame de la Rochejaquelein, ' heard anything more impressive and
terrible than their songs.' " — Scoffs Life of Napoleon. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 267
midated by that resolution, "What are you afraid of? The national guard
•will not have orders to tire, and M. Petion will be there."
At midnight the mayor, whether he conceived that the movement was ir-
resistible, or that he ought to favour it, as he did that of the 10th of August,
wrote to the directory, soliciting it to authorize the assemblage, by permit-
ting the national guard to receive the citizens of the fauxbourgs into its ranks.
This expedient fully accomplished the views of those who, without wishing
for any disturbance, were nevertheless desirous of overawing the King; and
everything proves that such were in fact the views of Petion and the popular
chiefs.
At five o'clock on the morning of the 20th of June, the directory replied
IJiat it persisted in its preceding resolutions. Petion then ordered the com-
mandant-general on duty to keep up all the posts to their full complement,
and to double the guard of the Tuilerics. But he did nothing more: and,
unwilling either to renew the scene in the Champ de Mars, or to disperse the
assemblage, he waited till nine o'clock for the meeting of the municipal body.
As soon as it met, it came to a decision contrary to that of the directory, and
tlie national guard was enjoined to open its ranks to the armed petitioners.
Petion did not oppose a resolution whicli violated the administrative subordi-
nation, and was thus guilty of a species of inconsistency, with which he was
afterwards reproached. But, whatever was the character of that resolution,
its objects were rendered useless, for the national guard had not lime to as-
semble, and the concourse soon became so considerable, that it was no longer
possible to change either its form or its direction.
It was eleven o'clock in the forenoon. The Assembly had just met in
expectation of some great event. The members of the department hastened
to it for the purpose of acquainting it with the inutility of their efforts. Koe-
derer, the prociircur syndic, ol)tained permission to speak. He stated that
an extraordinary assemblage of citizens had met, in spite of the law and va-
rious injunctions of the authorities: that the object of this assemblage ap-
peared to be to celebrate the anniversary of the 20th of June, and to pay a
new tribute of respect to the Assembly: but that, if this was the intention of
the greater number, it was to be feared that evil-disposed persons were de-
sirous of availing themselves of this concourse to carry an address to the
King, to whom none ought to be presented but in the peaceful lorm of a
mere petition.
Then, referring to the resolutions of the directory and of the general coun-
cil of the commune, the laws enacted against armed assemblages, and those
which limit to twenty the number of citizens who could present a petition,
he exhorted the Assembly to enforce them: "for," added he, "armed peti-
tioners are to-day thronging hither by a civic movement: but to-morrow a
crowd of evil-disposed persons may collect, and then, I ask you, gentlemen,
what should we have to say to them?"
Amidst the applause of the right and the murmurs of the left, which, by
disapproving the apprehensions and the foresisrht of the department, evidently
approved the insurrection, Vergniaud ascended the tribune, and observed that
the abuse with which the procureur syndic was alarming the Assembly for
the future, had already taken place. That on several occasions, arined pe-
titioners had been received, and even permitted to file through the hall; that
this was perhaps wrong, but that the petitioners of that day would have reason
to complain if th^ were treated differently from others; that if, as it was
said, they purposed to present an address to the Kin<r, no doubt they would
send to him unarmed petitioners ; and, at any rate, if any danger was appre-
268 HISTORY OF THE
hendcd for the King, tliey had but to send him a deputation of sixty mem-
bers for a safeguard.
Diimolard admitted all that Vergniaud had asserted, confessed that the
abuse had taken place, but declared that a stop ought to be pat to it, and
more especially on this occasion, if they did not wish the Assembly and the
King to appear in the eyes of all Europe the slaves of a destructive faction.
lie proposed, like Vergniaud, the sending of a deputation: but he required,
moreover, that the municipality and the department should be responsible for
the measures taken for the maintenance of the laws. The tumult became
more and more violent. A letter was brought from Santerre. It was read
amidst the applause of the tribunes. It purported that the inhabitants of the
fauxbourg St. Antoine were celebrating the 20th of June ; that they were
calumniated, and begged to be admitted to the bar of the Assembly, in order
that they might confound their slanderers, and prove that they were still tlie
men of the 14th of July.
Vergniaud then replied to Dumolard that, if the law had been violated, the
example was not new : that to attempt to oppose the violation of it this time
would be to renew the sanguinary scene in the Champ de Mars : and that,
after all, there was nothing reprehensible in the sentiments of the petitioners.
Justly anxious about the future, added Vergniaud, they wish to prove that,
in spite of all the intrigues carried on against liberty, they are still ready to
defend it.
Here, as we see, the true sentiment of the day was disclosed bv an ordi-
nary effect of the discussion. The tumult continued, Ramond desired per-
mission to speak, but a decree was required before he could obtain it. At
this moment it was stated that the petitioners were eight thousand. "Eiffht
thousand I" exclaimed Calvet, " and we are but seven hundred and forty-live.
Let us adjourn.'" Cries of "Order! order!" arose on all sides. Calvet
was called to order, and Ramond was urged to speak, because eight thousand
citizens were waiting. "If eight thousand citizens are waiting," said he,
" twenty-four millions of French are waiting for me, too." He then repeated
the reasons urged by his friends of the right side. All at once, the petition-
ers rushed into the hall. The Assembly, indignant at the intrusion, rose;
the president put on his hat, and the petitioners quietly withdrew. The As-
sembly, gratified by this mark of respect, consented to admit them.
This petition, tlie tone of which was most audacious, expressed the pre-
vailing idea of all the petitions of that period. " The people are ready.
They wait but for you. They are disposed to employ great means for car-
rying into execution Article 2 of the declaration of rights — resistance to
oppression Let the minority among you, whose sentiments do not
agree with ours, cease to pollute the land of liberty, and betake yourselves
to Coblentz. Investigate the cause of the evils which threaten us. If it
proceeds from the executive, let the executive be annihilated !"
The president, after a reply in which he promised the petitioners the
vigilance of the representatives of the people, and recommended obedience
to the laws, granted them, in the name of the Assembly, permission to file
off before it. The doors were then thrown open, and the mob, amounting
at that moment to at least thirty thousand persons, passed throuofh the hall.
It is easy to conceive what the imagination of the populace, abandoned to
itself, is capable of producino-. Enormous tables, upon which lay the de-
claration of riohts, headed the procession. Around these tables danced
women and children, bearing olive-branches and pikes, that is to say, peace
or war, at tlie option of the enemy. They sang in chorus the famous Ca
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 269
ira. Then came the porters of the markets, the working men of all classes,
with wrc-tclied muskets, swords, and sliarp pieces of iron fastened to the
end of thick bliuigeons. Santerre and the Marquis de St. Ilurugues, who
had already attracted notice on the 5th and 6th of October, marched with
drawn swords at their licad. Battalions of the national guard followed in
good order, to prevent tumult by their presence. After them came women
and more armed men. Waving flags Avere inscribed with the words, " The
constitution or death." Ragged breeches were held up in the air with
shouts of Vivent lis sans-ndol/es ! Lastly an atrocious sign was displayed
to add ferocity to the wliimsicality of tlie spectacle. On the point of a pike
was borne a calf's heart, with this inscription : " Heart of an aristocrat."
Grief and indignation burst forth at this sight. The horrid emiilem in-
stantly disappeared, but was again exhibited at the gates of the Tuileries.
The applause of the tribunes, the shouts of the people passing through the
hall, the civic songs, the confused uproar, and the silence of the anxious
Assembly composed an extraordinary scene, and at the same time an
afflicting one to the very deputies wlio viewed tlie multitude as an auxiliary.*
Why, alas ! must reason prove so insufficient in such times of discord ?
W^hy did those wlio called in tlie disciplined barbarians of the north oblige
their adversaries to call in those otlier undisciplined barbarians, who, by
turns merry and ferocious, abound in the heart of cities, and remain sunk in,
depravity amid the most polished civilization !
This scene lasted for three hours. At length Santerre again came forward
to express to the Assembly the tlianks of the people, and presented it with
a flag in token of gratitude and attachment.
The mob at this moment attempted to get into the garden of tlie Tuileries,
the gates of which were closed. Numerous detachments of the national
guard surrounded the palace, and, extending in line from the Feuillans to
the river, presented an imposing front. By order of the King, the garden-
gate was opened. The people iiistandy poured in, and filed off under the
windows of the palace and before the ranks of the national guard, without
any hostile demonstration, but shouting, " Down with the Veto J 'I'he sans-
culotfes for ever!" INIeanwhile some persons, speaking of the King, said,
" Why docs he not show himself? .... We mean to do him no harm."
— The old expression, He is imposed upon, was occasionally, but rarely,
heard. The people, quick at catching the opinions of its leaders, had like
liiem despaired.
The crowd, moving off by the garden-gate leading to the Pont Royal,
proceeded along the quay and throuirh the wickets of the Louvre to the
Place du (Carrousel. This place, now so spacious, was then intersected by
numerous streets. Listead of that inmiense court, extendinw- from the body
of the palace to the gate and from one wing to the other, there were small
courts separated by walls and houses. Ancient wickets opened from each
of them into tlie Carrousel. All tlie avenues were crowded with people and
• " It may be alleged in excuse that the Assembly had no resource but submission. Yet
brave men, in similar circumstances, have, by a timely exertion of spirit, averted similar in-
solencies. When the furious anti-catholic mob was in possession of the avenues to, and
even lobbies of, the House of Commons in 1780, General Cosmo Gordon, a member of the
House, went up to the unfortunate nolilcman under whose guidance they were supposed to
act, and addressed hnn thus: 'My lord, is it your purpose to brinsf your rascally adherents
into the House of Commons? for, if so, I apprize you that the instant one of them enters,
I pass my sword, not through his body, but your lordshij)'s.' The hint was suflicient, and
the mob was directed to another quarter.'' — Scofl's Life of Napoleon. E.
z2
270 HISTORY OF THE
they appeared at the royal gate. They Avere refused admittance. Some
of tlie iniiuicipal otiicers addressed tliem, and appeared to liave prevailed
upon them to retire. It is asserted that at this moment Santerre, coming
from die Asseml)ly, wliere he had stayed till the last moment to present a
flag, whetted the almost blunted purpose of the people, and caused the
cannon to be drawn up to the gate.
It was nearly four o'clock. Two municipal officers all at once ordered
the gate to be opened.* The troops wiiich were in considerable force at
this point, and consisted of battalions of the national guard and several de-
tachments of gendarmerie, were then paralyzed. The people rushed head-
long into the court, and thence into the vestibule of the palace. Santerre,
threatened, it is said, by two witnesses, on account of this violation of the
royal residence, exclaimed, turning to the assailants, " IJear witness that I
refuse to go into the King's apartments." This apostrophe did not stop the
mob, which had received a sufficient stimulus. They poured into every
part of the palace, look possession of all the staircases, and by main force
dragged a piece of cannon up to the first floor. At the same instant, the
assailants commenced an attack witli swords and lialchets upon the doors
which were closed ajfainst them.
Louis XVI. had just at this moment sent away a great number of his
dangerous friends, who, without possessing the power to save, had so often
compromised him. They had hastened lo him, but he had made them leave
the Tuileries, where their presence would only have served to exasperate,
without repressing, the people. He had with him the old Marshal de
Mouchy Acloque, c/irf de bataillon, some of the servants of his household,
and several trusty otflcers of the national guard. It Avas at this moment that
the cries of the people and the strokes of the Jiatchets were lieard. The
officers of the national guard immediately surrounded him and implored
liim to show himself, vowing to die by his side. WiUiout hesitation, he
ordered the door lo be opened. At that instant, the panel, driven in by a
violent blow, fell at his feel. It was at length opened, and a forest of pikes
and bayonets appeared. " Here I am !" said Louis XVI., showing himself
to the furious rabble. Those who surrounded him kept close to him and
formed a rampart of their bodies. " Pay respect to your King," they
exclaimed ; and the mob, which certainly had no definite purpose, relaxed
its intrusion.
Several voices announced a petition, and desired that it might be read.
Those about the King prevailed upon him to retire to a more spacious room
to hear this petilion. The people, pleased to see their desire complied with,
followed the prince, wliom his attendants had the good sense to place in the
embrasure of a window. He was made to mount a small bench ; several
others were set before him, and a table was added. All who had accom-
panied him were ranged around. Some grenadiers of the guard and officers
of the household arrived to increase the number of his defenders, Avho
formed a rampart, behind which he could listen Avith less danger to this
terrible lecture of the rabble. Amidst uproar and shouts were heard the
oft-repealed cries of " No veto! No priests ! No aristocrats ! The camp
near Paris !" Legendre, the butcher, stepped up, and in popular languaffe
demanded tlie sanction of the decree. " This is neither the place nor the
moment," replied the King, with firmness ; " I will do all that the constitu-
• All the witnesses examined agreed respecting this fact, differing only as to the name of
the municipal olficers.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 271
tion requires." Tliis resistance produced its effect. " live la nation!
Jive la ?(«/iO« .'" .shouted the assaiUuits. "Yes," resumed Louis XV'I.,
" Jive la nation.' I aui its best friend." " Well, prove it then," said one
of the rabl)le, holding before him a red cap at the point of a pike. A refusal
niiglit have been dang-erous ; and certainly in the situation of the King,
diirnity did not consist in throwing away iiis life by rejecting a vain sign,
but in doing as he did, in bearing with firmness the assault of the multitude.
He put the cap upon his head, and the applause was general.* As he felt
oppressed by the heat of tlie weatlier and the crowd, one of the half-
drunken fellows, who had brought with hin\ a bottle and a glass, offered
him some of his drink. The King had long been apprehensive lest he
siiould be poisoned ; he nevertheless drank without hesitation, and was
loudly applauded.
Meanwhile, Madame ElizabeUi, who was fondly attached to her brother,
and who was the only one of the royal family that could get to him, fol-
lowed him from window to window, to share his danger. The people,
when diey saw her, took her for the Queen. Siiouts of "There's the Aus-
trian !" were raised in an alarming manner. The national grenadiers, who
liad surrounded the princess, endeavoured to set tlie people right. " Leave
them," said that generous sister, " leave tiiem in their error, and save the
Queen !"
The Queen, with her son and her daugliter, had not been able to join her
royal consort. She had fled from the lower apartments, hurried to the
council-chamber, and coidd not reach tlie King on account of the crowd,
which fdled tlie whole palace. She was anxious to rejoin liim, and
earnestly begged to be led to the room where he was. On being dissuaded
from this attempt, standing behind tlie council-table, with some grenadiers,
she watched tlu? people file off with a heart full of horror, and eyes swim-
ming with tears, which she repressed. Her daughter was weeping by her
side ; her young son, frightened at first, had soon recovered his cheerful-
ness, and smiled in tiie happy ignorance of his age. A red cap had been
handed to iiim, and the Queen had put it on his head. Santerre recom-
mended respect to the people, and spoke cheeringly to the princess. He
repeated to her the accustomed and unfortunately useless expression, " Ma-
dam, you are imposed upon; you are imposed upon." Then, seeing the
young prince encumbered witli the red cap, " The boy is stifling," said he,
and relieved him from that ridiculous head-dress.
Some of the deputies, on receiving intelligence of the danger of the
palace, had hastened to the King, addressed the people, and enjoined respect.
Others had repaired to tlie assembly, to inform it of what was passing, and
• " While we were leading a somewhat idle life, the 20th of June arrived. We met that
morning, as usual, in a coffee-room in Itue !St. Honoro. On Roing out, we saw a mob ap-
proaching, which Bonaparte computed at five or six thousand men, all in rags, and armed
with every sort of weapon, vociferating the grossest abuse, and proceeding with rapid pace
towards the Tuilerics. ' Let us follow that rabble,' said Bonaparte to me. We got before
them, and went to walk in the gardens, on the terrace overlooking the water. From this
station he beheld the disgraceful occurrences that ensued. I should fail in attempting to
depict the surprise and indignation roused within him. He could not comprehend such
weakness and forbearance. But when the King showed himself at one of the windows
fronting the garden, with the red cap which one of the mob had just placed on his head,
Bonaparte could no longer restrain his indignation. ' What madness !' exclaimed he; ' how
could they allow these scoundrels to enter! They ought to have blown four or five hundred
of them into the air with cannon. The rest would then have taken to their heels.' " —
Bourrienne's Memoirs, E.
272 HISTORY OF THE
the asjitalion there was increased by the indignation of the right side, and
the eli'orts of tlie k^ft to palliate this invasion of the palace of the monarch.
A depulation had been decreed without discussion, and twenty-four mem-
bers had set out to surround the King. It had been moreover decreed that
the deputation should be renewed every half-hour, in order that the Assem-
bly might be instantly apprised of everything that might occur. The de-
puties who were sent spoke alternately, hoisted upon the shoulders of the
grenadiers. Petion afterwards made his appearance, and was accused of
liaving come too late. He declared that it was half-past four before ho
heard of the attack made at four ; that it had taken him half an hour to get
to the palace, and that it was not until a long time after this he could over-
come the obstacles which separated him from the King, so that he had been
prevented from reaching his presence earlier than half-past five. On ap-
proaching the prince, " Fear nothing, sire," said he, " you are in the midst
of your people." Louis XVI., taking the hand of a grenadier, placed it
upon his heart, saying, " Feel whether it l)eats quicker than usual." This
noble answer was warmly applauded. Petion at length mounted an arm-
chair, and addressing the crowd, said that, after laying its remonstrances
before the King, it had now nothing further to do but to retire peaceably
and in such a manner as not to sully that day. Some persons who were
present assert that Petion said its just remonstrances. This expression,
however, would prove nothing but the necessity for not offending the mob.
Santerre reinforced him with iiis influence, and the palace was soon cleared.
The rabble retired in a peaceful and orderly manner. It was then about
seven in the evening.
The King was immediately joined by the Queen, his sister, and his chUd-
ren, shedding a Hood of tears. Overcome by the scene, the King had still
the red cap on his head. He now perceived it for the first time during seve-
ral hours, and flung it from hiin with indignation. At this moment, fresh
deputies arrived to learn the state of the palace. The Queen, go'mg over it
with them, showed them the shattered doors and the broken furnituv/- land
expressed her keen vexation at such outrages. Merlin de Thionvillci,* one
of the stanchest repul)licans, was one of the deputies present. The Queen
perceived tears in his eyes. " You weep," said she to him, " to see the King
and his family treated so cruelly by a people whom he has always wished to
render happy." — "It is true, madam," replied Merlin; " I weep over the
misfortunes of a beautiful, tender-hearted woman and mother of a family;
but do not mistake ; there is not one of my tears for the King or the
Queen — I hate Kings and Queens."!
Next day general indignation prevailed among the partisans of the court,
who considered it as outraged, and among the constitutionalists, who re-
• " Antoine Merlin de Thionville, a bailiff and a municipal officer, was deputed by the
Moselle to the legislature, where he, Bazire, and Chabot, formed, what was then called the
triumvirate, which, during the whole session, made it a point daily to denounce all the minis-
ters and placemen. On the lOth of August he signalized himself at the head of the ene-
mies of the court. He strongly olijected to the motion to allow counsel for the King, and
warmly urged his execution. During the contest which led to Robespierre's fall, he main-
tained the most complete silence, and, after the victory, joined the conquerors. He was
afterwards appointed president of the Convention. In 1797 he was denounced to the Coun-
cil of Five Hundred as a peculator, for he had at that period immense landed property,
whereas, before the Revolution he had uone ; but the denunciation failed. In 1798 Merlin
obtained an appointment in the management of the general post." — Biographie 3Io-
derne. E.
•J- Memoirea de Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 215.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 573
garded this invasion as a violation of tlie laws and of the public tranquillity.
The disturbance had been alarinina;, but now it was greatly exa^irerated. It
was alleged to have been a plan for murdering the King, and it was even
asserted that this plan had miscarried solely from the effect of a lucky acci-
dent. Hence, by a natural reaction, the popular opinion of the day was in
favour of the royal family, who, on the preceding, had been exposed to so
many dangers and outrages ; and the supposed authors of tlie assault be-
came objects of unqualified censure.
Sad faces were seen in the Assembly. Several deputies inveighed
strongly against the events of the preceding day. M. Bigot proposed a law
against armed petitions, and against the custom of sulTering bodies of men
to file off through the hall. Though there already existed laws on this
head, they were renewed by a decree, M. Daveirhoult moved for proceed-
ings against the disturbers. " Proceedings," exclaimed one of tbe members,
" against forty thousand men !"' — " Well, then," he replied, " if it is impos-
sible to distinguish among forty thousand men, punish the guard, which did
not defend itself; or, at least do something."
The ministers then entered, to present a report on what had happ?ned,
and a discussion arose on the nature of the circumstances. A member of
the right, observing tliat Yergniaud's testimony was above suspicion, and
that he had been an eye-witness of tlie affair, called upon him to relate
what he had seen. Vergniaud, however, declined to rise at this appeal, but
maintained silence. The boldest of the left side, nevertheless, shook ofT
constraint and took courage towards the conclusion of the sitting. They
even ventured to propose that an examination should be instituted whether
the veto was necessary in certain peculiar circumstances ; but this motion
was thrown out by a great majority.
Towards evening, a fresh scene similar to that of the preceding day was
appreht ided. The people, on retiring, had said that they should come
again, and it was believed that tliey would keep tlieir word. But, whetlier
this as only a remnant of the agitation of the day before, or whether for the
moment this new attempt was disapproved of by the leaders of the popular
party, it was very easily stopped ; and Petion repaired in great haste to the
palace, to inform the King that order was restored, and that the people,
having laid their remonstrances before him, were now tranquil and satisfied.
"That is not true," said the King. — " Sire." — . . . — " Be silent." — "It
befits not the magistrate of the people to be silent, wlien he does his duty
and speaks the truth." — " 'J'he traiKiuillity of Paris rests on your head." — " I
know my duty: I shall perform it." — " Enough : go and perform it. Retire."
The King, notwithstanding liis extreme good nature, was liable to fits of
ill-humour, which the courtiers termed coup de boutoir. The sigiit of Pe-
tion, who was accused of having encouraged tlie scenes of the preceding day,
exasperated him, and produced the cimversation whicli we have just quoted.
It was soon known to all Paris. Two proclamations were immediately is-
sued, one by the King, llie other by the niuniripalily : and hostilities seemed
to be commencing between these two authorities.
The municipality told the citizens to lie peaceable, to pay respect to the
King, to respect the National Assembly and to make it be resijected ; not to
assemble in arms, because it was forbidden by the laws, and, above all, to
beware of evil-disposed persons who were striving to excite fresh commo-
tions.
It was actually rumoured that the court was endeavouring to excite a
second insurrection of the people, that it might have occasiou to sweep them
VOL. I. — 35
274 HISTORY OF THE
away with artillery. Thus the palace supposed the existence of a plan for
a murder — tlie fauxbourgs that a plan existed for a massacre.
The King said, "The French will not have learned without pain that a
multitude, led astray by certain factious persons, has entered by force of
arms the habitation of the King. . . . The King has opposed to the threats
and the insults of the factious nothing but his conscience and his love for the
public weal.
"He knows not where will be the limit at which they will stop: but to
what excesses soever they proceed, they shall never wring from him a con-
sent to anything that he deems contrary to the public interest.
"If tliose who wish to overthrow the monarchy have need of another
crime, they have it in their power to commit it,
" The King enjoins all the administrative bodies and municipalities to pro-
vide for the safety of persons and property."
These opposite sentiments corresponded with the two opinions which
were then formed. All those whom the conduct of the court had driven to
despair were but the more exasperated against it, and the more determined
to thwart its designs by all possible means. The popular societies, the mu-
nicipalities, the pikemen, a portion of the national guard, and the left side
of the Assembly, were influenced by the proclamation of the mayor of Paris,
and resolved to be prudent no farther than was necessary to avoid being
mowed down by grape-shot without any decisive result. Still, uncertain as
to the means to be employed, they waited, full of the same distrust, and
even aversion. Their first step was to oblige the ministers to attend the As-
sembly, and give account of the precautions which they had taken on two
essential points:
1. On the religious disturbances excited by the priests ;
2. On the safety of the capital, which the camp of twenty thousand men,
refused by the King, was destined to cover.
Those who were called aristocrats, the sincere constitutionalists, part of
the national guards, several of the provinces, and especially the departmental
directories spoke out on this occasion, and in an energetic manner. The laws
having been violated, they had all the advantage of speech, and they used it
without reserve, A great number of addresses were sent to the King. At
Rouen and at Paris a petition was drawn up and supported by twenty thou-
sand signatures. This petition was associated in the minds of the people
with that already signed by eight thousand Parisians against the camp below
Paris. Lastly, legal proceedings were ordered by the department against
Petion, the mayor, and Manuel,* procurei/r of the commune, who were both
accused of having favoured, by their dilatory conduct, the irruption of the
20th of June. At this moment, the behaviour of the King during that trying
day was spoken of with admiration. There was a general change of opinion
respecting his character, and people reproached themselves with having
charged it with weakness. But it was soon perceived that the passive courage
which resists is not that which anticipates dangers, instead of awaiting them
with resignation.
The constitutional party fell anew to \vork with the utmost activity. All
• "Manuel was born at Montargis in 1751. On the trial of the King, he voted for im-
prisonment and banishment in the event of peace. When the Queen's trial came on, he was
summoned as a witness against her, but only expressed admiration of her fortitude, and pity
for her misfortunes. In November, 1793, Manuel was condemned to death by the revolu-
tionary tribunal, and executed. He was the author of several works, and among others, of
■•Letters on the Revolution.' " — Scott's Life of Napoleon, E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 275
those who had surrounded Lafayette to concert with liim the letter of the
16th of June, ;i2;ain united for the purpose of tiikinjr some sisrnal step. La-
fayette had felt deep indignation on learning what had occurred at the palace:
and he was found to be quite willing to assist. Several addresses from his
regiments, expressing similar indignation, were sent to him. Wliether these
addresses were concerted or spontaneous, he put a stop to them by an order
of the day, in which he promised to express, in person, the sentiments of
the whole army. lie resolved, therefore, to go to Paris, and to repeat to the
legislative body what he had written to it on the 16th of June. He arranged
the matter with Luckuer, wlio was as easily led as an old warrior who has
never been out of his camp.* He induced him to write a letter addressed to
the King, expressing the same sentiments that he was himself about to pro-
claim viva voce at tiie bar of the legislative body. He then took all retjuisite
measures so that his absence might not be detrimental to the military opera-
tions, and, tearing himself from his attached soldiers, he hastened to Paris
to confront the greatest dangers.
Lafayette reckoned upon his faithful national guard, and on imparting a
new impulse by means of it. He reckoned upon the court, which he could
not believe to be his foe, when he came to sacrifice himself for it. Having
proved his chivalrous love of liberty, he w^as now resolved to prove his sin-
cere attachment to the King; and, in his heroic enthusiasm, it is probable
that his heart was not insensible to the glory of this twofold self-devotion.
He arrived on the morning of the 28th of June. The news soon spread,
and it was everywhere repeated with surprise and curiosity that General La-
fayette was in Paris.
Before his arrival, the Assembly had been agitated by a great number of
contrary petitions. Those of Rouen, Havre, the Ain, the Seine and Oise,
the Pas de Calais, and the Aisne, condemned the outrages of the 20th of
June. Those of Arras and of THerault seemed almost to approve of them.
There had been read, on the one hand, Luckner's letter to the King, and, on
the other, atrocious placards against him. The reading of these diflerent
papers had produced excitement for several preceding days.
On the 28th, a considerable concourse had repaired to the Assembly,
hoping that Lafayette, whose intentions were yet a secret, would make his
appearance there. About half-past one o'clock, a message was actually
brought, stating that he desired to be admitted to the Ijar. He was received
with plaudits by the right side, but with silence by the tribunes and the left
side.
" Gentlemen," said he, " I must in the first place assure you that, in con-
sequence of arrangements concerted between Marshal Luckncr and myself,
my presence here cannot in any way compromise either the success of our
arms, or the safety of the army which I have the honour to command."
The general then explained the motives of his coming. It had been as-
serted that his letter was not written by himself. He; came to avow it, and,
to make this avowal, he came from amidst his camp, where he was sur-
rounded by the love of his soldiers. A still stronger reason had urged him
to this step. The 20th of June had excited his indignation and that of his
army, which had presented to him a multitude of addresses. He had put a
stop to them, and solemnly engaged to be the orjian of its sentiments to the
National Assembly. "The soldiers," he added, " are already asking them-
* " Marshal Luckner Mamed extremely the intention Lafayette announced of repairing to
Paris, ' because,' said he, ' the nans culottes will rut olT his head.' But as this was the sole
objection he made, the general resolved to set out alone." — Lafayette's Memoirs.. E.
276 HISTORY OF THE
pelves if it is really tlie cause of liberty and of the constitution that they are
tlefencling." lie besought the National Assembly,
1. To prosecute the instigators of the 20th of June ;
2. To suppress a sect which grasps at the national sovereignty, and whose
public debates leave no doubt respecting the atrocity of its designs ;
3. Lastly, to enforce respect for the authorities, and to give the armies
the assurance that the constitution shall sutler no injury at home, while they
are spilling their blood to defend it abroad.
Tlie president replied that the Assembly would uphold the law which had
been sworn to, and that it would examine his petition. He was invited to
the lionours of the sitting.
The general proceeded to take his seat on the benches of the right. Ker-
saint, the deputy, observed that his proper place was on the petitioners'
bench. Cries of "Yes!" "No!" burst from all parts. The general
modestly rose and removed to the petitioners' bench. Numerous plaudits
accompanied him to this neAV place. Guadet* was the iirst who spoke, and
resorting to a clever circumlocution, he asked if the enemy was vanquished,
and the country delivered, since M. de Lafayette was in Paris. " No," he
exclaiuied in reply, " the country is not delivered ; our situation is not
changed ; and yet the general of one of our armies is in Paris !" He should
not inquire, he continued, whether M. de Lafayette, who saw in the Frencii
people nothing but a factious mob surrounding and threatening the authori-
ties, was not himself surrounded by a statT which was circumventing him ;
bat he should observe to M. de Lafayette that he was trespassing against the
constitution by making himself the organ of an army legally incapable of
deliberating, and tliat probably lie was also trespassing against the authority
of the military powers by coming to Paris without being authorized by the
minister at war.
Guadet, in consequence, proposed that the minister at war should be
called upon to state Avhether he had given leave of absence to M. de La-
fayette, and that, moreover, the extraordinary commission should report
upon the question whether a general had a right to address the Assembly on
purely political subjects.
Ramond came forward to answer Guadet. He set out with a very natural
observation, and one that is very frequently applicable, tliat the interpretation
of the laws is liable to great variations according to circumstances. " Never,"
said he, " have we been so scrupulous relative to the existence of the right
of petition. AVhen, but very lately, an armed multitude presented itself, it
was not asked what was its errand ; it was not reproached with infringing
by the parade of arms the independence of the Assembly; but when M. de
Lafayette, who is for America and for Europe the standard of liberty — when
he presents himself, suspicions are awakened! . . If there are two w^eights
and two measures, if there are two ways of considering things, let it be
allowable to make some distinction in favour of the eldest son of liberty !"
Ramond then moved to refer the petition to the extraordinary commission,
* " M. E. Gauiiet, a I.iwyer, presiJent of the criminal tribunal of the Gironde, was deputed
by that department to the legislature, and was looked up to by the Girondists, as one of their
leaders. He voted for the death of Louis, but for delaying his execution. Involved in the
fall of his party, he was executed at Bordeaux irj I7!)4, in the thirty-fifth year of his age.
When he was led to the scaffold, he wanted to harangue'the people, but the roll of the drums
drowned his voice, and nothing could be heard but the words, ' People, behold the sole
resource of tvrants ! They drown the voices of free men that they may commit their crimes.'
Gaudct's fiiiher, who was seventy years old, his aunt, and his brother, perished a month after
him by the sentence of the military committee at Bordeaux." — Bio^raj)hie Moderne, E.
FRE^XH REVOLUTION. 277
for the purpose of examining, not the conduct of Lafayette, but the petition
itself. After a great tumult and two divisions, Ramoud's motion was carried.
Lafayette left the Assemhh' surrounded by a numerous train of deputies and
soldiers of the national guard, all of them his partisans and his old com-
panions in arms.
This was the decisive moment for the court, for himself, and for the
popular party. He repaired to the palace. Tiie most abusive expressions
were repeated around him among the groups of the courtiers. The Kii\g
and Queen received with coldness the man who came to devote himself for
them.* Lafayette withdrew, mortified at the disposition wiiich he hud per-
ceived, not for his own sake, but for the sake of the royal family. On leav-
ing the Tuileries, a numerous concourse escorted him to his residence,
shouting " Long live Lafayette !" and even planted a May before his gate.
These demonstrations of old attachment touched the general and intimidated
the Jacobins. But it was requisite to take advantage of these feelings of
attachment and to rouse them still more, in order to render them efficacious.
Some officers of the national guard, particularly devoted to the court, applied
to it, inquiring how they ought to act. The King and Queen were both of
opinion that they ought not to second M. Lafayette.t He thus found him-
self forsaken by the only portion of the national guard from which lie could
still have expected support. Anxious, nevertheless, to serve the King, in
spite of himself, he consulted his friends. But these were not agreed.
Some, and particularly Lally ToUendal, were for acting promptly against tlie
Jacobins, and attacking them by main force in their club. Others, all mem-
bers of the department and of the Assembly, supporting themselves con-
stantly by the autliority of tlic law, and having no resources, but in it, would
not advise its violation, and opposed any open attack.
Lafayette, nevertheless, preferred the boldest of these two courses, and
appointed a rendezvous for his partisans, for die purpose of going with them
to drive the Jacobins from their place of meeting and walling up the doors.
But tliough the place for assembling was fixed, few attended, and Lafayette
found it impossible to act. Whilst, however, he was deeply mortified to
perceive that he was so ill supported, the Jacobins, ignorant of the defection
of his partisans, were seized with a panic and abandoned their club. Tliey
ran to Dumouriez,t who had not yet set out for the army, and urged him to
put himself at their head and to march against Lafayette ; but tlicir applica-
tion was not complied with. Lafayette staid another day in Paris, amidst
denunciations, threats, and hints of assassination, and at length departed,
lamenting the uselessness of his self-devotion and the fatal obstinacy of the
*" The debate was not cloKcd, when Lafayette repaired to the King. The royal family
were assemhled together, and the King and Queen both repeated that they were convinced
there was no safety for them but in the constitution. Never did Louis appear to express
himself with more thorough conviction than on thi.s occasion. He added that he considered
it would he very fortunate if the Austrians were defeated. It so happened that the Kini; was
next day to review four thousand men of the national guard. Lafayette asked jx-rmission to
accompany him, apprizing him, at the same time, of his intention, as soon as his majesty had
retired, of addressing the troops. But the court did everything in its power to thwart La-
fayette, and Petion the mayor countermanded the review an hour before daybreak." —
Lafayette's Memoirs. E.
f Bee Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 224, a letter from M. Lally to the King of Prussia,
and all the historians. ,
+ " Dumouriez survWed the troubles of the Revolution many years. He spent some time
in Germany ; and lived in retirement latterly at Turville Park, near Herdey-upon-Thumes,
where he<lied .March 14, 1823, in his eighty-lifth year. He was a man of pleasing manners,
and lively conversation." — Scotl^s Life of Napoleon. E.
2 A
278 , HISTORY OF THE
court. And yet this same man, so completely forsaken when he had come
to expose his own life to save the King, has been accused of having betrayed
liim ! The writers of the court have asserted tliat his means were ill com-
bined. No doubt it was easier and safer, at least in appearance, to employ
eighty thousand Prussians ; but in Paris, and with the determination not to
call in foreigners, wluit more could he do than put himself at the head of the
national guard, and overawe the Jacobins, by dispersing them !
Lafayette set out Avith the design of still serving the King, and contriving,
if possible, means for his quitting Paris. He wrote a letter to the Assem-
bly, in which he repeated with still greater energy all that he had himself
said against what he called the factious.
No sooner was the popular party relieved from the fears occasioned by
the presence and the plans of the general, than it continued its attacks upon
the court, and persisted in demanding a strict account of the meaiis which
it was adopting for preserving the territory. It was already known, though
the executive power had not yet made any communication on the subject to
the Assembly, that the Prussians had broken the neutrality, and that they
were advancing by Coblentz, to the number of eighty thousand men, all old
soldiers of the great Frederick, and commanded by the Duke of Brunswick,
a celebrated general.* Luckner, who had too few troops and could not
fully rely on the Belgians, had been obliged to retire upon Lille and Valen-
ciennes. An officer, in retreating from Courtray, had burned the suburbs
of the town, and it was conceived that the aim of this cruel measure was to
alienate the Belgians. The government did nothing to reinforce the armies,
which amounted at the utmost, on the three frontiers, to two hundred and
thirty thousand men. It resorted to none of those mighty schemes which
rouse the zeal and the enthusiasm of a nation. The enemy, in short, might
be in Paris in six weeks.
The Queen reckoned upon this result, and mentioned it in confidence to
one of her ladies. She had the route of the emigrants and the King of
Prussia. She knew that on such a day they would be at Verdun, on such
a one at Lille, and that they were to lay siege to the latter place. That un-
fortunate princess hoped, she said, to be delivered in a month.t Why,
alas ! did she not believe the sincere friends who represented to her the in-
conveniences of foreign aid, and told her that this aid would be useless ;
that it would arrive soon enough to compromise, but not soon enough to
save her ! Why did she not believe her own fears on this point and the
gloomy forebodings which sometimes overwhelmed her ! Why, in short,
did she not spare herself a fault, and many misfortunes !
We have seen that the measure to which tlie national party clung most
tenaciously was a reserve of twenty thousand men below Paris. The King,
* "Charles William Ferdinand, Duke of Brunswick, was born in 1735. He was the
eldest son of the reigning duke, and a sister of Frederick the Great. The seven years' war
afforded him the first opportunity of cultivating his military talents. In 1756 he decided the
victory of CrefeM, and took the most active part in ail the enterprises of his uncle Ferdinand.
In 1764 he married the Princess Augusta of England. High expectations were entertained
of him, when the wars of the French Revolution broke out. The duke received the chief
command of the Austrian and Prussian armies, and issued at Coblentz, in 1792, the famous
manifesto drawn up in a haughty style by a Frenchman, De Limon. The duke considered
the expressions too strong, and some of the severest passages were expunged. He continued
to labour for the welfare of his country until 1806, when he was placed at the head of the
Prussian army. He was mortally wounded in that year, and died at Ottensen, near
Altona." — Encyclopasdia Americana. E.
I See Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 230.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 279
as Ave have shown, was adverse to this plan. He was summoned, in the
person of his ministers, to state what precautions had been taken in the
place of those proposed in the decree to which he had refused his sanction.
He answered by proposing a new project, which consisted in directing upon
Soissons a reserve of forty-two battalions of national volunteers, to supply
the place of the old reserve, wiiich had been exhausted in completing the
two principal armies. This was as nearly as possible the first decree ; with
this difference that tlie camp of reserve should be formed between Paris and
the frontiers, and not near Paris itself. This j)lan was received with mur-
murs and referred to the military committee.
Several departments and municipalities, excited by their correspondence
with Paris, had subsequently resolved to carry into execution the decree
for a camp of twenty thousand men, though it was not sanctioned. The
departments of the Bouches du Rhone, la Gironde, and I'Herault, set the
first example ; which was soon followed by others. Such was the com-
mencement of the insurrection.
As soon as intelligence of these spontaneous levies was received, the
Assembly, modifying the plan of the forty-two new battalions proposed by
the King, decreed that the battalions, whose zeal should have led them to
march before they were legally called upon, should pass through Paris for
the purpose of being inscribed at the municipality of that city ; that they
should then proceed to Soissons, to be there encamped ; and lastly, that
those who should happen to be in Paris on the 14th of July, the anniversary
of the Federation, should attend that national solemnity. It had not been
held in 1791, on account of the flight to Varennes, and it was determined
that it should be celebrated in 1792 with eclat. The Assembly added that,
immediately after this festival, the federalists should march ofT to the place
of their destination.
This was at once authorizing insurrection, and reviving, with some trilling
variation, the unsanctioned decree. The only difference was that the
federalists should merely pass through Paris. But the grand point was to
bring them thither; and. when once there, a thousand circumstances might
arise to detain them. 'J'lie decree was immediately sent to the King, and
sanctioned on the following day.
To this important measure was added another. A distrust was felt of
part of the national guards, and particularly of the stalls, which, after the
example of the departmental directories, the nearer they approached in rank
to superior authority the more they were disposed in its favour. It was
especially the nation;d guard of Paris at which the blow was aimed ; but it
could not be struck direcdy, and tlierefore it was decreed that all the staffs
in towns containing upwards of fifty thousand inhabitants should be dissolved
and re-elected. In the agitated state in which France tlien was, with the
constantly increasing influence which this agitation insured to the most
ardent spirits, this re-election could not fail to bring forward persons devoted
to the popular and republican party.
These were important measures, carried by main force, in opposition to
the right side and to the court. Yet all this did not appear to the patriots
to fortify them sufhciendy against the imminent dangers by which they con-
ceived themselves to be threatened. Forty thousand Prussians, and as many
Austrians and Sardinians, were approaching our frontiers. A court, appa-
rently in concert Vith the enemy, resorted to no means for augmenting the
armies and exciting the nation, but on the contrary employed the veto to
thwart the measures of the legislative body, and the civil list to secure par-
280 HISTORY OF THE
tisans in the interior. Lastly, there was a general, who was not supposed
to be capable of uniting with the emigrants to deliver up France, but who
was seen to be disposed to support tlie court against the people. All these
circumstances alarmed and deeply agitated the public mind. " The country
is in danger !" was the general cry. But how was that danger to be pre-
vented? There lay the difficulty. People were not even agreed respect-
ing the causes. The constitutionalists and the partisans of the court, as
much terrified as the patriots themselves, imputed the dangers to the fac-
tious only. They trembled only for royalty, and saw no peril but in dis-
cussion. The patriots, trembling for a contrary reason, beheld this peril
in invasion alone, and laid the whole blame of it on die court, its refusals,
its tardiness, and its underhand proceedings. Petitions continued to pour
in. Some attributed every thing to the Jacobins, others to the court,
designated alternately by tlie appellations of the palace, the executive power,
and the veto. The Assembly listened to and referred them all to the extra-
ordinary commission of twelve, appointed long before to seek and propose
means for saving the country.
Its plan was awaited with impatience. Meanwhile all the walls were
covered with threatening placards ; the public papers, not less bold than the
posting bills, talking of notliing but forfeiture of the crown and dethrone-
ment. This was the topic of general conversation, and no moderation
seemed to be observed but in the Assembly. There the attacks against
royalt}^ were yet only indirect. It had been proposed, for example, to sup-
press the veto for decrees of circumstance ; observations had several times
been made on the civil list, and on the culpable use that was inade of it ; and
it had been suggested that it should either be reduced, or that a public ac-
count of its expenditure should be demanded.
At length, the commission of twelve proposed its measures. The court
had never refused to comply with the recommendations of the Assembly
materially to augment the means of defence. It coidd not have done so
without compromising itself too openly ; and, besides, it could not much
dread the numerical increase of armies which it believed to be in a state of
complete disorganization.
The popidar party desired, on the contrary, some of those extraordinary
means, which indicate a great resolution, and which frequendy confer victory
on the most desperate cause. The commission of twelve devised such, and
proposed to the Assembly the following plan :
When the danger should become extreme, the legislative body Avas itself
to declare it by tins solemn form of expression: The country is in
dana:er.
After this declaration, all the local auUiorities, tlie councils of die com-
munes, those of the districts and departments, and the Assembly itself, as
the highest of the authorities, were to be permanent and to sit without in-
terruption. All the citizens, under the severest penalties, were to deliver to
the authorities the arms wliich they possessed, with a view to their suitable
distribution. All the men, old and young, fit for service, were to be enrolled
in the national guards. Some were to proceed to the seats of the diflerent
authorities of districts or departments ; others to march whithersoever the
exigencies of the country required, either at home or abroad. Those only
should be expected to appear in uniform who were aide to defray the ex-
pense of it. The pay of volunteers was to be given to all the national
guards who should be removed from Uieir homes. The auUiorities were to
be directed to provide themselves with military stores. Any sign of rebellion,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 281
wilfully displayed, was to be punished witli death. Every cockade, every
flag, was to be reputed seditious, excepting the tricoloured cockade and flag.
According to this plan, the whole nation would be on the alert and in
arms. It would possess the means of deliberating and fighting at every
point and at every moment : and would be able to dispense with the govern-
ment and to make amends for its inactivity. That aindess agitation of the
popular masses would be regulated and directed. If, in short, after this
appeal, the French should fail to respond to it, the Assembly could not be
expected to do any more for a nation which would not do anything for itself.
This plan gave rise, as might naturally be expected, to a most vehement
discussion.
Pastorct,* the deputy, read the preliminary report. It satisfied no one ;
imputing faults to all, balancing some by others ; and not fixing in a positive
manner the means of parrying the public dangers. After him, Jean de Bry
explained clearly and with moderation the plan of the commission. The
discussion, once commenced, soon became a mere exchange of recrimina-
tions. It afforded scope for those impetuous imaginations, which rush
headlong into extreme measures. The great law of the pulilic welfare, that
is to say, the dictatorship — in other words, the power of doing everything,
with the chance of using it cruelly but energetically — that power which
could by right be decreed only in the Convention, was nevertheless proposed
in the Legislative.
M. Delaunay of Angers proposed to the Assembly to declare that, till the
removal of the danger, it Avould consult only the imperative and svprcme
law cf the public trelfare. This would have been, by an abstract and mys-
terious formula, evidently to abolish royalty and to declare the Assembly
absolute sovereign. M. Delaunay said that the Revolution was not com-
pleted ; that people were mistaken if they thought so ; and diat it was riiflit
to keep fixed laws for the Kevolution saved and not die Revolution lo be
saved. He said, in short, all that is usually said in favour of the dictator-
ship, die idea of which always presents itself in moments of danger. The
answer of the deputies of the right side was natural. " Tliey should vio-
late," diey said, " the oatlis taken to die constitution, by creating an
authority that would absorb the regulated and established powers." Their
adversaries replied, by saying that the example of violation was already
given, and that diev ouffht not to suffer themselves to be anticipated and
surprised without defence. " But, prove then," rejoined the parUsans of
t!ie court, " diat this example has been given, that the constitution has been
betrayed." This challenge was answered by fresh accusations against the
court, and these charges were repelled in their turn by recriminations against
adtators. " You are factious men." — "You are traitors." Such Avas die
reciproc:d and everlasting reproach — such the question to be resolved.
So violent did M. .laucour deem tlie proposal, that he was for referrintr it
to the Jacobins. M. Isnard, wiUi whose ardour it harmonized, urged that
it should be taken into consideration, and that the speech of M. Delaunay
should be sent to the departments, to counterpoise that of M. Pasloret,
* " Pierre Pastoret, born at Marseilles in 1750, was an advocate before the Revolution,
which he enil)raced with anlour. Having luckily survived the reign of terror, he was in
179.1 delegated from Var to the Council of Five Hundred, where he became one o\ the
firmest defenders of kj^e Clichyan party. In 1804 he was apjiointed professor of the laws
of man and nations, in the college of France; and was made a member of the Instiuile and
the Legion of Honour. He was the author of several works, both in prose and verse,
written with eloquence and perspicuity." — Biat^rap/iie Moderne. E.
VOL. I. — 36 2 A 2
282 HISTORY OF THE
which was but a dose of opium given to a patient in the agonies of
death.
M. de Vaublanc succeeded in obtaining a hearing. He said that the con-
stitution could save itself by the constiuition ; that the plan of M. Jean de
Bry was a proof of this ; that it was right to print the speech of M. De-
launay, if they so pleased, but at any rate not to send it to the departments ;
and that they ought to return to the proposal of the commission. The dis-
cussion was accordingly adjourned till the 3d of July,
One deputy had not yet spoken. This was Vergniaud. A member of
the Gironde, and its most eloquent orator, he was nevertheless independent.
"Whether from thoughtlessness or from real elevation, he seemed to be above
the passions of his friends ; and, in sharing their patriotic ardour, he did
not always share their prepossessions and their vehemence.* When he had
made up his mind upon a question, he carried along with him by his elo-
quence and a certain acknowledged impartiality, that floating portion of the
Assembly, which Mirabeau had formerly hurried away by his reasoning
and his warmth. Wavering masses are everywhere decided by talents and
reason.t
It had been announced that he would speak on the 3d of July. An im-
mense concourse had assembled to hear this distinguished orator on a ques-
tion which was regarded as decisive. Accordingly, he did speak, and first
drew a sketch of the state of France. " If," said he,± " one did not believe
in the imperishable love of the people for liberty, one would doubt whether
the Revolution retrogrades or whether it is reaching its term. Our armies
of the North advanced into Belgium, and all at once they fell back. The
theatre of war is transferred to our territory, and we shall have left the un-
fortunate Belgians nothing but the remembrance of the conflagrations that
lighted our retreat. At the same time, a formidable army of Prussians is
threatening the Rhine, though we had been taught to hope tliat their pro-
gress would not be so rapid.
" How happens it that this moment should have been chosen for the dis-
missal of the popular ministers, for breaking the chain of their labours, for
committing the empire to inexperienced hands, and for rejecting the useful
measures which we have deemed it our duty to propose ? . . Can it be true
that a dread is felt of our triumphs ? Is it the blood of Coblentz or yours,
tliat there is a desire to spare ? Is there a wish to reign over forsaken towns
• "Vergniaud was an indolent man, and required to be stimulated ; but when once fairly
excited, his eloquence was true, forcible, penetrating, and sincere." — Diimoiit. E.
" I do not like Vergniaud, because he disdains men, does not put any restraint on himself
in his intercourse with them, and has not employed his talents with the ardour of a soul
devoted by the love of the public good, and with the tenacity of a diligent mind." — Madame
Roland's Memoirs. E.
Vergniaud was born at Limoges in 1759. He projected the decree which pronounced the
suspension of the King, and the formation of the National Convention. He tilled the chair
on the day of Louis's sentence, and voted for his death. He was condemned to death as a
Girondist, in 1793, and spent the night before his execution in discoursing with his friends
upon revolutions and governments. His speeches were always carefully prepared before-
hand. E.
•j- This is a justice done to Vergniaud by the Journal de Paris, at that time so celebrated
for its opposition to the majority of the Assembly, and for the extraordiniiry talents of its
conductors, especially of the unfortunate and immortal Andre Chenier. (See that paper of
the 4th of July, 1792.)
+ It is scarcely necessary to observe that I here analyze Vergniaud's speech, but do not
give it verbatim.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 283
and devastated fields ? . . In short, where are we ? . . And you, gendemen,
what g^rand work are you about to undertake for the public weal ?
" You, whom some flatter themselves that they have intimidated : you,
whose consciences they llatter themselves that they have alarmed by stigma-
tizing your patriotism as the spirit of faction, as if those who took the oath
in the Tennis Court had not also been called faciious : you, who have been
so slandered, because you belong not to a proud caste which the constitution
has thrown down in the dust: you, to whom are imputed guilty intentions,
as if, invested with a power different from that of the law, you had a civil
list: you, whose concern for the dangers of the people a hypocritical mode-
ration hoped to cool : you, whom means have been found to divide, but who,
in this moment of danger, will lay aside your animosities, your paltry dis-
sensions, and not find it so delightful to hate one another as to prefer that
infernal pleasure to the welfare of the country ; — you, finally, hearken to
me ! What are your resources ? What does necessity command you ?
What does the constitution permit you to do ?"
During this exordium, loud applause drowned the voice of the speaker.
He continued his speech, and exhibited two kinds of dangers, the one inter-
nal, tlie other external.
" To remove the former, the Assembly had proposed a decree against the
priests, and, whether the spirit of a Medicis still tlits beneath tlic vaults of
the Tuileries, or a Lachaise or a Letellier still disturbs the heart of the
prince, the decree has been rejected by tlie tlirone. It is not possilde to
believe, without doing the King injustice, that he wishes fur rcligicnis distur-
bances ! He fancies himself then sufficiently powerful — he has then ancient
laws enough — to insure the public tranquillity. Let his ministers then
answer for it with their heads, since they have the means of insuring it !
" To provide against external dangers, the Assembly conceived tlie idea
of a camp of reserve. The King rejected it. It would be doing him injustice
to suppose that he wishes to deliver up France to the enemy ; he must
therefore have forces sufficient to protect it; his ministers therefore ought to
answer to us with their heads for the salvation of the country."
Thus far the speaker confines himself, as we see, to the ministerial re-
sponsibility, and strives to exliibit it under the most tlireatening aspect.
" But," added he, " to throw the ministers into the abyss which their malice
or their imbecility has opened, is not all . . Listen to me calmly ; be in no
hurry to anticipate what I am about to say.
At these words the attention of liis auditors was redoubled. Profound
silence pervaded the Assembly. " It is in the name of the King,'''' said he,
"that the French princes have endeavoured to raise Europe asrainst us. It
is to avenge the dignity of I he King that the treaty of Pilnitz lias been con-
cluded. It is to come to the aid of the King that the sovereign of Hungary
and Bohemia makes war upon us, that Prussia is marching towards our
frontiers. Now, I read in the constitution : ' If the King puts liimself at the
head of an army and directs its forces against the nation, or if he does not
oppose by a formal act an enterprise of this kind that may be executed in
his name, he shall be considered as haviiio- abdicated rovaltv.'
*' What is a formal act of opposition I 11' one hundred thousand Austrians
were marching towards Flanders, and one hundred thousand Prussians to-
wards Alsace, ancVthe King were to oppose to them ten or twenty thousand
men, would he have done a formal act of opposition ?
" If the King, whose duty it is to notify imminent hostilities, apprized of
the movements of the Prussian army, were not to communicate any inforraa-
284 HISTORY OF THE
tion on the subject to the National Assembly ; if a camp of reserve, neces-
sary for stopping the progress of the enemy into the interior, were proposed,
and the King were to substitute in its stead an uncertain plan which it would
take a long time to execute ; if the King were to leave the command of an
army to an intriguing general, of whom the nation was suspicious ; if another
general, bred afar from the corruption of courts and familiar with victory,
were to demand a reinforcement, and the King were by a refusal to say to
him; I forbid thee to conquer — could it be asserted that the King had com-
mitted a formal act of opposition ?
"I have exaggerated several circumstances," resumed Vergniaud, "to
take away every pretext for explanations purely hypothetical. But if, while
France was swimming in blood, the King were to say to you, ' It is true
that the enemies pretend to be acting for me, for my dignity, for my rights,
but 1 have proved tliat I am not their accomplice. I have sent armies into the
field ; tliese armies were too weak, but the constitution does not fix the degree
of their force. I have assembled them loo late, but the constitution does not fix
the time for collecting them. I have stopped a general who was on the point
of conijuering, but the constitution does not order victories. I have had
ministers, who deceived the Assembly, and disorganized the government,
but their appointment belonged to me. The Assembly has passed useful
decrees which I have not sanctioned, but I had a right to act so. I have
done all that the constitution enjoined me. It is therefore impossible to
doubt my fidelity to it.' (Vehement applause here burst from all quarters.)
"If then," continued Vergniaud, "the King were to hold this language,
should you not have a right to reply; 'O King, who, like Lysauder, the
tyrant, have believed that truth was not worth more than falsehood — who
have feigned a love for the laws merely to preserve tlie power which enabled
you to defy them — was it defending us to oppose to the foreign soldiers
forces whose inferiority left not even uncertainty as to their defeat? Was it
defending us, to thwart plans tending to fortify the interior ? Was it de-
fending us, not to check a general who violated the constitution, l)ut to
enchain the couraije of those who were serving it? Did the constitution
leave you the choice of the ministers for our prosperity or for our ruin ? Did
it make you the head of the army for our glory or our disgrace ? Did it
finally confer on you the right of sanction, a civil list, and so many preroga-
tives, in order constitutionally to undo the constitution of the empire? No!
no ! Man, in whom the generosity of the French has excited no correspond-
ing feelinir, insensible to everything but the love of despotism, you are
henceforth nothing to that constitution which you have so unworthily violated
— to that people whom you have so basely betrayed!'
"But no," resumed the speaker, "if our armies are not complete, the
King assuredly is not to blame for tliis ; no doubt he will take the necessary
measures for saving us ; no doubt the march of the Prussians will not be so
triumphant as they hope ; but it was requisite to foresee everything and to
say everything, for frankness alone can save us."
Vergniaud concluded by proposing a message to Louis XVI., firm but
respectful, which should oblige him to choose between France and foreigners,
and teach him that the French were resolved to perish or triumph with the
constitution. He wished also that the Assembly should declare the country
in danger, in order to awaken in hearts those mighty affections which have
animated mighty nations, and which no doubt would be found in tlie French;
'•for," said he, " it will not be in the regenerated French of 89 tliat Nature
will show herself degenerated." He wished, finally, that an end should be
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 2S5
put to dissensions which began to assume a sinister character, and that they
should reunite those who were in Rome and on Mount Aventine.
As ho uttered these last words, the voice of the speaker faltered, and the
emotion was general. The tribunes, the left side, in short, all applauded.
Vcrgniaud left the tribune, and was surrounded by a crowd, wlio thronged
to congratulate liiin. He alone had dared to speak to the Assembly con-
cerning the forfeiture of the crown, which was a general topic of conversa-
tion in public ; but he had presented the sui)ject only in an hypothetical
manner, and clollied in forms still respec^tful, when compared witli the lan-
guage suggested by the passions of the time.
Dumas came forward to reply. He attempted to speak extempore after
Vergniaud, before auditors, still full of the feelings that he had excited. He
several times claimed silence and an attention which it was not in his pov/er
to gain. He animadverted on the reproaches urged against the executive
power. " The retreat of Luckner," said he, " is owing to the chance of bat-
tles, which cannot I)e governed in the recesses of cabinets. Assuredly you
have confulence in liuckner?" Cries of "Yes! yes!" were the answer;
and Kersaint proposed a decree declaring that TiUckner had retained tlie na-
tional confulence. Tlie decree was passed, and Dumas proceeded. He ob-
served very justly that, if they had conlidence in that general, they could not
consider tlu; intention of his retreat as culpable or suspicious: that, as for
the want of forces which was complained of, the marshal himself knew that
all the troops tlien disposable were asseml)led fortius enterprize; that, more-
over, everything must have been already prepared by the old Girondin mi-
nistry, tlie author of the ofTensive warfare ; and that, if the means were inade-
quate, tliat ministry alone was to blame; tliat the new ministers could not
possibly repair all that was defective by a few couriers; and lastly, tliat they
Itad given carte blanche to Luckner, and had left him the power to act ac-
cording to circumstances and local situation.
"'J'lie caiup of twenty thousand men has been rejected," added Dumas,
" but, in tlie first place, the ministers are not responsible for the veto, and, in
the next, the i)lau which they sul)stituted in its stead was far preferable to
that proposed by the Assembly, because it did not paralyze the means of re-
cruiting. The decree against the priests has been rejected, but there is no
need of new laws to insure the public tranciuillity. Nothing is wanting but
quiet, security, respect for individual li!)erty, and liberty of conscience.
Wherever these liberties have been respected, the priests have not been se-
ditious." Dumas concluded with justilying the King, by objecting that he
had not wished for war, ami Tiafayettc by reminding the Assembly that he
had always been a lover of liberty.
The decree proposed by the commission of twelve, for arranging the forms
according to which the country should !)e declared in danger, was passed
amidst the most vehement applause. But the declaration of danger was ad-
journed, because it was not thought right as yet to proclaim it. The King,
no doubt excited by all that had been said, notified to the Assembly the im-
minent hostilities with Prussia, which he grounded on the convention of Pil-
nitz, on the favourable reception given to the reliels, on the acts of violence
committed upon French mercantile men, on the dismissal of our minister,
and the departure of the Prussian ambassador from Paris ; lasdy, on the
march of the Prussian troops to the numb(!r of fifty-two thousand men.
" Everything proves to me," added the King's message, "an alliance be-
tween Vienna and Berlin. (There was a laugh at these words.) Agreeably
to the terjns of the constitution, I give this intimation of it to the legislative
286 HISTORY OF THE
body." — "Yes," replied several voices, "when the Prussians are at Co-
blentz." The messaefe was referred to the commission of twelve.
The discussion relative to the forms of the declaration of the country in
danger was continued. It was decreed that this declaration should be con-
tinued as a simple proclamation, and that consequently it should not be sub-
ject to the royal sanction, which was not quite just, since it comprehended
legislative clauses, but, without meaning to proclaim it, the Assembly already
followed the law of the public welfare.
The discussions were daily increasing in violence. The wish of Vergni-
aud to unite those who were in Rome and on Mount Aventine was not ful-
filled ; the fear which each excited in the other was changed into irrecon-
cilable hatred.
There was in the Assembly a deputy named Lamourette,* constitutional
Bishop of Lyons, who had never considered liberty in any other light than
as a return to primitive fraternity, and who was as much grieved as astonished
at the divisions of his colleagues. He did not believe that the one harboured
anv real hatred against the others. He supposed that all of them merely
entertained unjust suspicions. On the 7th of July, at the moment when the
discussion on the country in danger was about to be resumed, he asked leave
to speak for the purpose of a motion to order; and addressing his colleagues
in the most persuasive tone and with the noblest aspect, he told them that
terrible measures were every day proposed to them in order to put an end to
the danger of the country ; that, for his part, he had faith in milder and more
efficacious means. It was the disunion among the representatives that was
the cause of all the evils, and to this disunion it behoved them to apply a
remedy. " Oh!" exclaimed the worthy prelate, "he who should succeed
in reconciling you, that man would be the real conqueror of Austria and of
Coblentz. It is daily alleged that, at the point to which things have been
carried, your reunion is impossible. Ah ! I tremble at the thought . . . but
this is a calumny. There is nothing irreconcilable but guilt and virtue. Good
men dispute warmly, because they are impressed with the sincere conviction
of the correctness of their opinions, but they cannot hate one another. Gen-
tlemen, the public weal is in your hands. Why do you delay carrying it
into operation?
"What is it that the two portions of the Assembly charge each other with?
One accuses the other of wishing to modify the constitution by the hands of
foreigners ; and the latter accuses the former of striving to overthrow the
monarchy for the purpose of establishing a republic. Well, gentlemen, hurl
one and the same anathema against a republic and the two chambers. De-
vote them to general execration by a last and irrevocable oath ! Let us swear
to have but one spirit, but one sentiment. Let us swear everlasting frater-
nity ! Let the enemy know that what we will, we all will, and the country
is saved!"
Scarcely had the speaker finished these concluding words, when both sides
of the Assembly rose, applauding his generous sentiments, and eager to rid
themselves of the burden of their reciprocal animosities. Amidst universal
acclamations, they devoted to public execration any project for changing the
constitution either by two chambers or by a republic; and the members
rushed from the opposite benches to embrace one another. Those who had
• " After the dissolution of the Legislative Assembly, Lamourette went to Lyons, and con-
tinued there during the seige. He was afterwards conducted to Paris, condemned to death,
and decapitated in 1794. He was the author of several religious works." — Scott's Life of
Napoleon. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 287
attacked and those who had defended Lafayette, the veto, the civil list, the
factions, and the traitors, were clasped in each others' arms. All distinc-
tions ceased, and Messrs. Pastoret and Condorcet, who the day before were
loading one another with abuse in the public papers, were seen locked in
each other's embrace. There was no longer any right or loft side, and all
the deputies sat indiscriminately together. Dumas was beside Basire, Jau-
court next to Merlin, and Ramond by Chabot.
It was immedhitely decided that they should inform the provinces, the
army, and the Kinsr, of this happy event. A deputation, headed by Laniou-
rette, repaired to the palace. Laniourette returned, announcing the intention
of the King to come, as on the 4th of February, 1790, to express his satis-
faction to the Assembly, and to assure it that he was sorry he had to wait
for a deputation, for he was most anxious to hasten into the midst of it.
The enthusiasm was increased to tlie highest pitch by these words, and if
the unanimous cry might be credited, tlie country was saved. AVas it, then,
that a King and eight hundred hypocritical deputies had suddenly formed the
plan of deceiving each other, and feigning an oblivion of injuries, that they
might afterwards betray one another with the greater certainty ? No, as-
suredly not. Such a plan is not formed among so great a number of persons,
and all at once, without premeditation. But hatred is burdensome ; it is a
relief to get rid of the weight of it; and, moreover, at the prospect of the
most threatening events, which party was it that, in tlie uncertainty of vic-
tory, would not gladly have consented to keep the present as it was, pro-
vided that it were insured to them I This fact demonstrates that distrust and
fear produced all the animosities, that a moment of confidence allayed them,
and that if the party called republican thought of a republic, it was not from
system but from despair. Why did not the King, on returning to his palace,
write immediately to Prussia and Austria ? Why did he not combine with
these secret measures some grand public measure? Why did he not say,
like his ancestor Louis XIV., on the approach of the enemy. Let us all go!
But in the evening the Assembly was informed of the result of the pro-
ceedings instituted by the department against Petion and Manuel ; and this
result was tlie suspension of those two magistrates. From what has since
been learned from the lips of Petion himself, it is probable that he could
have preA'ented the commotion of the 20th of June, since he afterwards pre-
vented others. In fact, his real sentiments were not then known, but it
was strongly presumed that he had connived with the agitators. There
were moreover some infringements of the law to lay to his charge. He
was reproached, for instance, with liaving been extremely dilatory in his
communications to the difterent authorities, and with having sull'ered the
council of the commune to pass a resolution {arrete) contrary to that of the
department, in deciding that the petitioners should be admitted into the ranks
of the national guard. The suspension pronounced by the department was^
therefore, legal and courageous, but impolitic. After the reconciliation of
the morning, was it not, in fact, the height of imprudence to signify, in the
evening of the very same day, the suspension of two magistrates enjoying
the greatest popularity ? The King, indeed, referred the matter to the As-
sembly ; but, without betraying its dissatisfaction, it sent back the decision
to him that he might himself pronounce upon it. The tribunes recommenced
their usual cries;, a great number of petitions were presented, demanding
Petion or death ;^and Grangeneuve, the dep\Uy, who had been personally
insulted, insisted on a report against the perpetrator of the outrage. Thus
the reconciliation was already forgotten. Brissot, to whose turn it had come
288 HISTORY OF THE
to speak on the question of the public danger, solicited time to modify the
expressions of his speech, on account of the reconciliation wliich had since
taken place. Nevertheless, he could not abstain from enumerating all the
instances of neglect and tardiness laid to the charge of the court; and, in
spile of the pretended reconciliation, he concluded with proposing that the
question of the forfeiture of the crown should be solemnly discussed ; that
ministers should be impeaclied for having so long delayed to notify the hos-
tilities of Prussia ; that a secret commission of seven members should be
appointed and charged to attend to tlie public welfare ; that the property of
the emigrants should be sold ; that the organization of the national guards
should be accelerated ; and, lastly, that the Assembly should forthwith de-
clare the countrif to be in danger.
Intelligence was at the same time received of the conspiracy of Dessail-
lant, one of the late noblesse, who, at the head of a party of insurgents, had
gained possession of the fort of Banncs, in the department of the Ardeche,
and thence threatened tlie whole surrounding country. The disposition of
the powers was also reported to the Assembly by the ministers. The house
of Austria, influencing Prussia, had induced it to march against France ; the
pupils of the great Frederick nevertheless murmured against this impolitic
alliance. The electorates were all our open or concealed enemies. Russia
liad been the first to declare against the Revolution ; she had acceded to the
treaty of Pilnitz ; she had flattered the projects of Gustavus and seconded
the emigrants ; and all to deceive Prussia and Austria, and to urge them
both on against France, whilst she acted against Poland. At that moment
she was treating with Messrs. de Nassau and d'Esterhazy, leaders of the
emigrants; but, notwithstanding her magnificent promises, she had merely
furnished them with a frigate, to rid herself of their presence at St. Peters-
burg. Sweden was inmioveable since the death of Gustavus and admitted
our ships. Denmark promised a strict neutrality. We might consider our-
selves as being at war with the court of Turin. The Pope was preparing
his thunderbolts. Venice was neutral, but seemed disposed to protect
Trieste with its navy. Spain, without entering openly into the coalition,
appeared not unwilling to adhere to the family compact, and to return to
France the aid which she had received from her.
England promised neutrality and gave fresh assurances of it. The
United States would gladly have assisted us with all their means ; but those
means were then null, on account of their distance and their thin population.
Immediately after the communication of this report, the Assembly was
for declaring the country in danger : but that declaration was postponed till
after the presentation of a new report from all the committees united. On
the 11th, after this report had been read, amidst profound silence, the presi-
dent pronounced the solemn formula, Citizens, the country is in danger !
From that moment the sittings were declared permanent. The discharge
of cannon, fired from moment to moment, proclaimed this important crisis.
All the municipalities, all the district and departmental councils, sat without
interruption. All the national guards put themselves in motion. Amphi-
theatres were erected in the public places, and there the municipal officers
received, upon a table borne by drummers, the names of those who came
voluntarily to enrol themselves. The number enrolled amounted to fifteen
tliousand in one day.*
• " While the minds of men were wound up to the highest pitch by inflammatory
harangues, the committees to whom it had been remitted to report on the state of the country,
published the solemn declaration, " Citizens, the country is in danger .'" Minute guns
FRENCH REVOLUTION, 289
The reconciliation of the 7th of July and the oath which followed, had not,
as we have just seen, dispelled any distrust. People were still devising
means to protect themselves against the designs of the palace, and the idea
of declaring that the King had forfeited the crown, or of forcing him to ab-
dicate, presented itself to every mind as the only possible remedy for the
evils whicli threatened France. Vergniaud had merely pointed hypotheti-
cally to this idea , but others, especially 'I'orne, the deputy, were desirous
that this supposition of Vergniaud should be considered as reality. Peti-
tions poured in from every part of France, to lend the aid of public opinion
to this desperate scheme of the patriotic deputies.
The city of Marseilles had previously presented a threatening petition,
read to the Assembly on the 19th of June, and the substance of which has
been already given. At the moment when the country was declared in
danger, several others were received. One of them proposed to accuse
Lafayette, to suppress the veto in certain cases, to reduce the civil list, and
to reinstate Manuel and Petion in their municipal functions. Another de-
manded, together with the suppression of the veto, the publicity of the coun-
cils. But the city of Marseilles, which had set the first example of these
acts of boldness, soon carried diem to the utmost excess. It presented an
address, recommending to the Assembly to abolish royalty in the reigning
branch, and to substitute in its stead a merely elective royalty and without
veto, that is to say, a purely executive maQ;istracy, as in republics. The
stupor prodnceil by the reading of this address was soon followed by the
applause of the tribunes ; and a motion for printing it was made by a mem-
ber of the Assembly. The address was, nevertheless, referred to the com-
mission of twelve, tliat the law declaring infamous every plan for altering
the constitution might be applied to it.
Consternation pervaded tlie court. It pervaded also the patriotic party,
which bold petitions were far from cheering. The King conceived that
violence was intended against his person. lie attributed tlie events of the
20th of June to a scheme for murdering him, which had miscarried ; but he
was assuredly wrong, for nothing could have been easier than the consum-
mation of that crime, if it had been projected. He was fearful of being
poisoned, and himself and his family took their meals with a lady in the
Queen's confidence, where they ate of dilferent dishes from those which
were prepared in the oflices of the palace. * As the anniversary of the Fe-
announceil to the inhabitants of the capital this solemn appeal, which called on every one to
lay down his life on behalf of the state. Pikes were distributed to all those not possessed
of firelocks; battalions of volunteers formed in the public squares, and standards were dis-
played in conspicuous situations, with the words, ' Citizens, the country is in danjjer !'
These measures excited the Revolutionary ardour to the utmost degree. An universal
phrenzy seized the public mind. Many departments openly defied the authority of govern-
ment, and without anj orders sent their contingents to form the canij) of twenty thousand
men near Paris. This was the commencement of the revolt which overturned the throne." —
Alison. E.
* On the subject of the apprehensions of the royal family, Madame Campan relates as
follows :
" The police of M. de Laporte, intendant of the civil list, apprized him, about the end of
1791, that one of the King's household, who had set up as a pastrycook in the Pal.iis Kojal,
had lately taken upon him the duties of an office which reverted to him on the death of the
late holder ; that he was so outrageous a Jacobin as to have dared to assert that it would be
doing a great benefit to'France to put an end to the life of the King. His functions were
confined merely to articles of pastry. He was closely watched by the principal officers of
the kitchen, who were attached to his majesty ; but a subtile poison may be so easily intro-
duced into articles of food, that it was decided that the King and Queen should eat nothing
VOL. I.— 37 2 B
290 HISTORY OF THE
deration was approachins-, the Queen caused a kind of breastplate, com-
posed of several folds of stulT, capable of resisting a tirst thrust of a dagger,
to be made for the King. However, as time passed away, and the popular
audacity increased, without any attempt at assassination being made, the
King began to form a more correct notion of the nature of his danger ; and he
already perceived that it was not the point of a dagger, but a judicial con-
demnation, that he had to dread ; and the fate of Charles I. continually
haunted his tortured imagination.
Lafayette, tliough repulsed by the court, had nevertheless resolved to save
the King. He therefore caused a plan of flight that was very boldly con-
ceived, to be submitted to him.* He had first gained over Luckner, and
but what was roasted ; that their bread should be supplied by M. Thierry, of Vilie d'Avray,
intendaat of the petifs appartemens, and that he should also furnish the wine. The King
was fond of pastry ; I was directed to order some, as if for myself, sometimes of one pastry-
cook, sometimes of another. The grated sugar was likewise kept in my room. The King,
the Queen, and Madame Elizabeth dined together without any attendants. Each of thctn
had a dumb-waiter of mahogany and a bell to ring when they wanted anything. M. Thierry
himself brought me the bread and wine for their majesties, and I locked up all these things in
a particular closet in the King's cabinet, on the ground floor. As soon as the King was at
table, I brought the pastry and the bread. Everything was hid under the table, lest there
might be occasion to call in the attendants. The King thought that it was not less danger-
ous than mortifying to show this apprehension of attempts against his person and this dis-
trust of the servants of his household. As he never drank a whole bottle of wine at dinner —
the princesses drank nothing but water — he half-lilled that from which he had been drinking
out of the bottle supplied by the officers of his establishment. I carried it away after dinner.
Though no pastry but that which I brought was ever eaten, care was taken to make it
appear as if some of that which had been set on the table had been used. The lady who
succeeded me found this secret service ready organized, and she executed it in the same
manner. The public was never acquainted with these precautions or the apprehensions
which had given rise to them. At the end of three or four months, the same police gave
intimation that there was no longer any reason to fear a plot of this kind against the King's
life ; that the plan was completely changed ; that the blows intended to be struck would be
directed as much against the throne as against the person of the sovereign." — Memuires de
Madame Campari, tome ii., p. 188.
* " The plan of flight was as follows ; The King accompanied by Lafayette was to have
gone to the National Assembly at midday, and announced his intention of spending some
days at Compiegne. On his arrival there with a small escort of Parisian national guards,
he could calculate on the national guard of Compiegne, and on two regiments of chasseurs
belonging to Lafayette's army, of whom the latter was perfectly sure. The officers of this
chosen body were to offer every kind of guarantee by their well-known patriotism and honour ;
and Brigadier-genera! Latour Maubourg, was to have taken the command. Thus surrounded,
the King, sheltered from all violence, and in a situation of his own choice, would, of his own
accord, have issued a proclamation, forbidding his brothers and the emigrants to advance a
step further ; announcing himself ready to go in person, if the Assembly approved of it,
against the enemy ; and declaring for the constitution in such terms as to leave not a shadow
of doubt as to his real intentions. Such a step might probably have enabled Louis to return
to Paris amid the universal acclamations of the people ; but such a triumph would have been
the triumph of liberty, and therefore the court rejected it. Some of the King's personal
friends left nothing untried to inspire him with conlidence in Lafayette. With tears in their
eyes, they conjured him to comply with the counsels of the only man who could snatch him
from destruction. But his most influential advisers saw no chance for absolute royalty
save in anarchy and foreign invasion. Lafayette was thanked for his plan, which was
rejected ; and when his aid-de-camp, Colombe, afterwards asked the Queen by what strange
infatuation she and the King had come to so fatal a decision, — ' We are very grateful to
your general,' was her reply, 'but the best thing that could happen to us, would be, to be
confined for two months in a tower!' Lafayette knew well that, at the very moment when
he was offering the only chance of safety that remained to the royal family, memorials full of
.asperity were, by the Queen's orders, composed against him; and that a part of the libels
.daily devoted to his defamation were paid for out of the civil list." — Lafayetie's Memoirs. E.
FREN'CH REVOLUTION. 291
had even extorted from the easy disposition of the old marshal a promise to
march towards Paris. Lafayette proposed that the King should send for
him and Luckner, upon pretext of attendinor the Federation. The presence
of two generals might, he thought, overawe the people, and prevent the
dangers which were apprehended from that day. Lafayette further pro-
posed that, the day after the ceremony, Louis XVL should publicly leave
Paris, professedly with the intention of going to Compiegne, in order to
exhibit a proof of his liberty to all Europe. In case of opposition, he asked
for no more than fifty trusty horse, to carry him off from Paris. From
Compiegne, squadrons kept in readiness were to conduct him to the French
armies, where Lafayette would depend on his sincerity for the maintenance
of the new institutions. Lastly, in case none of these schemes should suc-
ceed, tlie general had determined to march with ajl his troops to Paris.*
* Wfien M. de Lafayette was confined at Olmiitz, M. de Lally-ToIIendal wrote in his
behalf a very eloquent letter to the King of Prussia. He there recapitulated all that the
general had done to save Louis XVL and adduced proofs in confirmation. Among these
documents were the following letters, which afibrd an insight into the plans and the efforts
of the constitutionalists at this period :
Copy of a Letter from M. de Lally-Tullendal to the King.
Parts, Monday, July 9, 1792.
I am charged by M. Lafayette to propose directly to his majesty, for the 1.5th of this month,
the same plan, which he had proposed for the 12th, and which cannot now be carried into
execution on that day, on account of the promise given by his majesty to attend the cere-
mony of the 14th.
His majesty must have seen the plan sent by M. Lafayette, for M. Duport was to c£ury it
to M. iMotitciel that he might show it to his majesty.
M. Lafayette means to be here on the loth; he will have with him old General Luckner.
They have just had a meeting ; both have promised, and both have one and the same fechng
and one and the same design.
'J'hey propose that his majesty shall publicly leave the city between them, having written
to the National Assembly, to assure it that he shall not pass the constitutional line, and that
he is going to Compiegne.
His majesty and all the royal family are to be in one carriage. It is easy to find a hundred
good horse to escort them. The Swiss, in case of need, and part of the national guard will
protect the departure. The two generals will keep close to his majesty. On arriving at
Compiegne, he shall have for his guard a detachment belonging to the place, which is very-
good, one from the capital, which shall be picked, and one from the army.
M. Lafayette, after providing for all his fortresses, and hir> reserve camp, has at his disposal
for this purpose in his army ten squadrons of horse artillery. Two forced marches may
bring this whole division to Compiegne.
If, contrary to all jjrobaliility, his majesty should be prevented from leaving the city, the
laws being most manifestly violated, the two generals would march upon the capital with
an army.
The consequences of this plan are sufficiently obvious.
Peace with all Europe, through the mediation of the King;
The King reinstated in all his legal power:
A great and necessary extension of his sacred prerogatives ;
A real monarchy, a real monarch, real liberty ;
A real national representation, of which the King shall be the head and an integral part ;
A real executive power ;
A real national representation, elected from among persons of property;
The constitution revised, partly abolished, partly improved, and founded on a better basis ;
The new legislative body sitting for three months only in the year:
The old nobility reslS^red to its former privileges, not political but civil ; depending on
opiuion, such as titles, arms, liveries, &c.
I execute my commission without presuming to add either advice or reflection. My
imagination is too full of the rage which will seize all those perverse heads at the loss of
292 HISTORY OF THE
Whether this plan required too great boldness, and Louis XVI. had not
enougli of that quality, or whether the dislike of the Queen to Lafayette
the first town that shall be taken from us, not to have my misgivings ; and these are so
strong, that the scene of Saturday, which appears to have (juieted many people, has doubled
my uneasiness. All those kisses reminded me of that of Judas.
I merely solicit permission to be one of the eighty or one hundred horse who shall escort
his majesty, if he approves the plan; and I flatter myself that I have no occasion to assure
him that his enemies should not get at him or at any member of his royal family before they
had passed over my corpse.
I will add one word : I was a friend of M. liafayelte's before the Revolution. I broke off
all intercourse with him since the 22d of March in the second year. At that period, I
wished him to be what he is at this day ; I wrote to him that his duty, his honour, his inte-
rest, all prescribed to him this line of conduct; I detailed the plan to him at length, such as
my conscience suggested it. He gave me a promise ; I saw no effect from that promise.
I shall not examine whether this was owing to inability or insincerity ; I renounced all
further connexion with him, telling him so, and nobody had yet told him more severe
truths than myself and my friends, who were also his. These same friends have now
renewed my correspondence with hnn. His majesty knows what has been the aim and the
nature of this correspondence. I have seen his lettr^s; I had a conference of two hours
with him in the night before he left Paris. He acknowledges his errors ; he is ready to
devote himself for liberty, but at the same time for the monarchy ; he is willing to sacrifice
himself if need be, for his country and for his King, whom he no longer separates ; he is
attached, in short, to the principles which I have expounded in this note; he is attached to
them completely, with candour, conviction, sensibility, fidelity to the King, disregard of
himself — I answer for him on my integrity.
I forgot to say that he begs that nothing may be said on this subject to such of the ollicers
as may be in the capital at this moment. All may suspect that some plans are in agitation ;
but none of them is apprized of that which he proposes. It is sufficient for them to know it
on the morning for acting ; he is afraid of indiscretion if it should be mentioned to them
beforehand, and none of them is excepted from this observation.
P. S. May I venture to say that, in my opinion, this note should be perused by him only,
who, on an ever-memorable day, vanquished by his heroic courage a whole host of assassins;
by him who, the day after that unexampled triumph, himself dictated a proclamation as sub-
lime as his actions had been on the preceding day, and not by the counsels which drew up
the letter written in his name to the legislative body intimating that he should attend the
ceremony of the 14th; not by the counsels which obtained the sanction of the decree re-
specting feudal rights, a decree equivalent to a robbery committed upon the highway ?
M. Lafayette does not admit the idea that the King, when once out of the capital, has any
other direction to follow but that of his conscience and his free will. He conceives that the
first operation of his majesty ought to be to create a guard for himself; he conceives also that
his plan is capable of being modified in twenty different ways ; he prefers a retreat to the
North to a retreat to the South, as being nearer at hand to render assistance on that side,
and dreading the southern faction. In these words, the liberty nf the King and the destruc-
tion of the fadioji!^, is comprehended his aim in all the sincerity of his heart. What is to
follow will follow.
Copy of a letter from Lafayette.
July 8, 1792.
I had disposed my army in such a manner that the best squadrons, the grenadiers, and the
horse artillery were under the command of M — , in the fourth division ; and, had my pro-
posal been accepted, I should have brought in two days to Compiegne fifteen squadrons and
eight pieces of cannon, the rest of the army being placed in echelons, at the distance of one
march ; and any regiment which would not have taken the first step would have come to my
assistance, if my comrades and myself had been engaged.
I had overcome Luckner so far as to obtain a promise from him to march with me to the
capital, if the safety of the King had required it, and he had issued orders to that effect ; and
I have five squadrons of that army at my absolute disposal, Languedoc and ; the
commandant of the horse artillery is also exclusively devoted to me. I reckoned that these
would also march to Compiegne.
The King has given a promise to attend the federal festival. I am sorry that my plan has
not been adopted ; but the most must be made of that which has been preferred.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 293
prevented him from accepting his aid, he again refused it, and directed a
very cold answer, and one very unworthy of the zeal which the general
The steps which I have taken, the adhesion of many departments and communes, that of
M. Luckner, my influence with my army and even with the other troops, my popularity in
the kingdom, which has rather increased than diminished, though very hmited in the capital ;
all these circumstances, added to several others, have, by awakening honest men, furnished a
subject of reflection for the factious; and I hope that the physical dangers of the 14th of
July are greatly diminished. I think myself that they are nothing, if the King is accompa-
nied by Luckner and me, and surrounded by the picked battalions which I am getting ready
for him.
But, if the King and his family remain in the capital, are they not still in the hands of the
factions] We shall lose the first battle; it is impossible to doubt that. The recoil will be
felt in the capital. I will go further and assert that the supposition of a correspondence
between the Queen and the enemy will be sufficient to occasion the greatest excesses. At
least they will be for carrying off the Kinir to the South ; and this idea, which is now revolt-
ing, will appear simple when the leagued kings are approaching. I see, therefore, a series
of dangers commencing immediately after the i4th.
I again repeat it, the King must leave Paris ! I know that, were he not sincere, this course
would be attended with inconveniences; but when the question is about trusting the King,
who is an honest man, can one hesitate a moment ? I am impressed with the necessity of
seeing the King at Corapiegne.
Here then are the two objects to which my present plan relates :
!. If the King has not yet sent for Luckner and myself, he should do so immediately. We
have Luckner. He ought to be secured more and more. He will say that we are together ;
I will say the rest. Luckner can come to fetch me, so that we may be in the capital on the
evening of the 12th. The 13th and 14th may furnish offensive chances, at any rate the
defensive shall be insured by your presence ; and who knows what may be the effect of mine
upon the national guard ?
We will accompany the King to the altar of the country. The two generals, representing
two armies, which are known to be strongly attached to them, will prevent any insults that
there may be a disposition to offer to the dignity of the King. As for me, I may find again
the habit which some have so long had of obeying my voice ; the terror which I have always
struck into others, as soon as they became factious, and perhaps some personal means of
turning a crisis to advantage, may render me serviceable, at least for obviating dangers. My
application is the more disinterested, since my situation will be disagreeable in comparison
with the grand Federation ; but I consider it as a sacred duty to be near the King on this
occasion, and my mind is so bent on this point, that 1 absolutely require the minister at war
to send for me and that this first part of my proposal be adopted ; and I beg you to commu-
nicate it through mutual friends to the King, to his family, and to his council.
2. As for my second proposition, I deem it equally indispensable, and this is the way in
which I understand it. The King's oath and ours will have tranquillized those persons who
are only weak: consequently the scoundrels will be for some days deprived of that support.
I would have the King write secretly to M. Luckner and myself one letter jointly to us both,
which should find us on the road on the evening of the II th, or the morning of the 12th.
'J'he King should there say, ' that, after taking our oath, it was expedient to think of proving
his sincerity to foreigners ; that the best way would be for him to pass some days at Com-
piegne; that he directed us to have in readiness there some squadrons to join the national
guard of that place, and a detachment from the capital; that we shall accompany him to
Compit'gne, whence we shall proceed to rejoin our respective armies; that he desires us to
select such squadrons the chiefs of which are known for their attachment to the conslilutioii,
and a general officer who cannot leave any doubt on that head.'
Agreeably to this letter, Luckner and I will appoint M to the command of this exf)e-
dition ; he shall take with him four pieces of horse artillery ; eight, if preferred ; but the King
ought not to allude to this subject, because the odium of cannon ought to fail upon us. On
the 15th, at ten in the morning, the King should go to the Assembly, accompanied by Luckner
and myself; and whether we had a battalion, or whether we had but fifty horse, consisting
of men devoted to the King, or friends of mine, we should see if the King, the royal family,
Luckner, and myself, should be stopped.
Let us suppose that^we were. Luckner and I would return to the Assembly, to complain
and to threaten it with our armies. When the King should have returned, his situation
would not be worse, for he would not have transgressed the constitution ; he would have
2 B 2
294 HISTORY OF THE
manifested for him, to be returned. " The best advice," to use the words
of that answer, " whicli can be given to M. Lafayette is to continue to serve
as a bugbear to the factions, by the able performance of his duty as a
general."*
The anniversary of the Federation approached. The people and the As-
sembly were desirous that Petion should be present at the solemnity of the
14th. The King had already endeavoured to throw upon the Assembly the
responsibility of approving or disapproving the resolution of the department ;
but the Assembly had, as we have seen, constrained him to speak out him-
self; urging him daily to communicate his decision, that this matter might
be settled before the 14th. On the 12th, the King confirmed the suspension.
The Assembly lost no time in taking its own course. What that was may
easily be conceived. Next day, that is on the 13th, it reinstated Petion.
But, from a shadow of delicacy, it postponed its decision respecting Manuel,
who, amidst the tumult of the 20th of June, had been seen walking about in
his scarf, without making any use of his authority.
The 14th of July, 1792, at length arrived. How times had changed since
the 14th of July, 1790! There was neither that magnificent altar, with
three hundred officiating priests, nor that extensive area, covered by sixty
thousand national guards, richly dressed and regularly organized, nor those
lateral tiers of seats, crowded by an immense multitude, intoxicated with joy
against him none but the enemies of that constitution, and Luckner and I should easily bring
forward detachments from Compiegne. Take notice that this does not compromise the King
so much as he must necessarily be compromised by the events which are preparing.
The funds which the King has at his disposal have been so squandered in aristocratic
fooleries that he cannot have much money left. There is no doubt that he can borrow, if
necessary, to make himself master of the three days of the Federation.
There is still one case to be provided against : the Assembly may decree that the generals
shall not come to the capital. It will be sufficient for the King to refuse his sanction im-
mediately.
If, by an inconceivable fatality, the King should have already given his sanction, let him
appoint to meet us at Compiegne, even though he should be stopped at setting out. We
will open to him the means of coming thither free and triumphant. It is superfluous to
observe that, in any case, on his arrival at Compiegne, he will there form his personal guard
on the footing allowed him by the constitution.
In truth, when I find myself surrounded by inhabitants of the country, who come ten
leagues and more to see me and to swear that they have confidence in none but me and that
my enemies are theirs; when I find myself beloved by my army, on which the Jacobin
elforts have no influence; when I see testimonies of adherence to my opinions arriving from
all parts of the kingdom — I cannot believe that all is lost and that 1 have no means of being
serviceable.
* The following answer is extracted from the collection of documents quoted in the last
note:
Answer in the handwriting of the King.
You must answer him that I am infinitely sensible to the attachment which would induce
him to put himself thus in the front ; but that the manner appears to me impracticable. It
is not out of personal fear ; but everything would be staked at once, and, whatever he may
say of it, the failure of this plan would plunge all into a worse state than ever, and reduce it
more and more under the sway of the factions. Fontainbleau is but a cul-de-sac, it would
he a bad retreat, and towards the South ; towards the IVorth, it would have the appearance
of going to meet the Austrians. Respecting the summons for him, an answer will be returned
from another quarter, so I have nothing to say here on that subject. The presence of the
generals at the Federation might be useful ; it might besides have for its motive to seethe
new minister and to confer with him on the wants of the army. The best advice which can
be given to M. Lafayette is to continue to serve as a bugbear to the factions by the able per-
formance of his duty as a general. He will thereby secure more and more the confidence of
his army, and be enabled to employ it as he pleases in case of emergency.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 295
and delight ; nor lastly, that balcony, where the ministers, the royal family,
and the Assembly, were accommodated at the first Federation. Everythinjr
was changed. People hated each other as after a hollow reconciliation, and all
the emblems indicated war. Eighty-three tents represented the eighty-three
departments. Beside each of these stood a poplar, from the top of which
Avaved Hags of the three colours. A large tent was destined for tlie Assem-
bly and the King, and another for the administrative bodies of Paris, Thus
all France seemed to be encamped in the presence of the enemy. The altar
of the country was but a truncated column, placed at the top of those tiers of
seats which had l)cen left in tlie Champ de Mars, ever since the first cere-
mony. On one side was seen a monument for those who had died or who
were destined soon to die, on the frontiers; on the other an immense tree,
called the tree of ieudalism. It rose from the centre of a vast pile, and bore
on its branches crowns, blue ribbons, tiaras, cardinals' hats, St. Peter's keys,
ermine mandes, doctors' caps, basjs of law proceedings, tides of nobility, es-
cutcheons, coats of arms, <kc. The King was to be invited to set fire to it.
The oath was to be taken at noon. The King had repaired to the apart-
ments of the Military School, where he waited for the national procession,
w-hich had gone to lay the first stone of a column destined to rise upon the
ruins of the ancient Bastille. Tlie King displayed a calm diguily. '' The
Queen strove to conquer a grief that was but too visible. His sister, his
chUdren, surrounded him. Some touching expressions excited emotion in
those who were in the apartments, and tears trickled from tlie eyes of more
than one. At length the procession arrived. Until then the Champ de Mars
had been almost empty. All at once the multitude rushed into it. Beneath
the balcony where the King was placed, a confused mob of women, children,
and drunken men, Avere seen to pass, shouting, "Petion for ever! Petion or
death!" and bearing on their hats the words which diey had in their mouths;
federalists, arm in arm, and carrying a representation of the Bastille and a press,
whicli stopped, from time to time, for tlie purpose of printing and distributing
patriotic songs. Next came the legions of the national guards, and the regi-
ments of the troops of the line, preserving with difficulty the regularity of
their ranks amidst the moving populace ; and lasdy, the audiorities them-
selves, and the Assembly. The King then went down, and, placed amidst
a square of troops, moved on with the procession towards the altar of the
country. The concourse in die centre; of die Cjiainp de Mars was immense,
so that they could advance but slowly. After great exertions on the part of
the regiments, the King reached the steps of the altar. The Queen, stationed
on the lialcony, which she had not quitted, watched this scene with a glass.
The confusion seemed to increase about the altar, and the King to descend
a step. At diis sight, the Queen uttered a shriek and filled all around her
with alarm.t The ceremony, however, passed oft" without accident.
• "The figure made by the King during this pageant formed a striking and melancholy
parallel with his actual condition in the state. With hair powdered and dressed, with clothes
embroidered in the ancient court fashion, surrounded and crowded unceremoniously by men
of the lowest rank, and in the most wretched garb, he seemed belonging to a former age, but
which in the present has lost its fashion and value. He was conducted to the Champ de
Alars under a strong guard, and by a circuitous route, to avoid the insults of the multitude.
When he ascended the altar, to go through the ceremonial of the dav, all were struck with his
resemblance to a victim led to sacrifice ; the Queen so much so, that she nearly fainted. A
few children alone called out, 'Vive le Roil' This was the last time Louis was seen in
public until he mounted the seatTold." — Scait's Life of Napoleon. E.
j- " 'I'he expressioh of the Queen's countenance on this day will never be effaced from my
remembrance. Her eyes were -swollen with tears; and the splendour of her dress, and the
296 HISTORY OF THE
As soon as the oath was taken, the people hastened to the tree of feudal-
ism. They were for hurrying the King along with them, that he might set
fire to it; but he declined, saying very pertinently that there was no longer
any such thing as feudalism. He then set out on his return to the Military
School. The troops, rejoiced at having saved him, raised reiterated shouts
of Vive le Roi! The multitude, which always feels constrained to sympa-
thize, repeated these shouts, and was as prompt to pay him homage as it
had been to insult him a few hours before. For a few hours longer the un-
fortunate Louis XVI. appeared to be beloved; for an instant the people and
himself believed this to be the case ; but even illusion had ceased to be easy,
and they began already to find it impossil^le to deceive themselves. The
King returned to the palace, glad at having escaped the dangers which he
conceived to be great, but alarmed at those which he beheld approaching.
The news which arrived daily from the frontiers increased the alarm and
agitation. The declaration of tlie country in danger had set all France in
motion, and had occasioned the departure of a great number of federalists.
There were only two thousand at Paris on the day of the Federation ; but
they kept continually arriving, and the way in which they conducted them-
selves there justified both the fears and the hopes that had been conceived
of their presence in the capital. All voluntarily enrolled, they comprised
the most violent spirits in the clubs of France. The Assembly ordered diem
an allowance of thirty sous per day, and reserved the tribunes for them ex-
clusively. They soon gave law to it by their shouts and their applause.
Connected with the Jacobins, and united in a club which in a few days sur-
passed all the others in violence, they were ready for insurrection at the first
signal. They even made a declaration to this effect in an address to the As-
sembly. They would not set out, they said, till the enemies in the interior
were overthrown. Thus the scheme of assembling an insurrectional force
at Paris was completely accomplished, in spite of the opposition of the
court.
In addition to this engine, other means were resorted to. The old soldiers
of the French guards were dispersed among the regiments. The Assembly
ordered them to be collected into a corps of gendarmerie. There could be
no doubt respecting their disposition, since it was they who had begun the
Revolution. To no purpose was it objected that these men, almost all of
them subalterns in the army, constituted its principal force. The Assembly
would not listen to any representation, dreading the enemy at home more
than the enemy abroad. After composing forces for itself, it resolved to de-
compose those of the court. To this end, the Assembly ordered the removal
of all the regiments. Thus far it had kept within the limits appointed hy
the constitution, but, not content with removing, it enjoined them to repair
to the frontier, and by so doing, it usurped the disposal of the public force
which belonged to the King.
The principal aim of this measure was to get rid of the Swiss, whose
fidelity could not be doubted. To parry this blow, the ministers instigated
M. d'Affry, their commandant, to remonstrate. lie appealed to his capitu-
lations in justification of his refusal to leave Paris. The Assembly appeared
dignity of her deportment, formed a striking contrast with the train that surrounded her. It
required the character of Louis XVI. — that character of martyr which he ever upheld — to
support, as he did, such a situation. When he mounted the steps of the altar, he seemed a
sacred victim, offering himself as a voluntary sacrifice. He descended, and, crossing anew
the disordered ranks, returned to take his place beside the Queen and his children." — Ma-
dame de Stael, E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 297
to take into consideration the reasons which he urged, but ordered for the
moment the departure of two Swiss battalions.
The King, it is true, had his veto to resist tliese measures, but he liad lost
all influence, and could no longer exercise his prerogative. The Assembly
itself could not always withstand the propositions brought forward bv certain
of its members, and invariably supported by the applause of the tribunes. It
never failed to declare itself in favour of moderation, when that was possible ;
and, whilst it assented on the one hand to the most insurrectional measures,
it was seen on the other receiving and approving the most moderate
petitions.
The measures that were adopted, the petitions that were daily read, and
the language that was used in all conversations, indicated a speedv revolu-
tion. The Girondins foresaw and wished for it ; but they did not clearly
distinguish the means, and dreaded the issue of it. Among the people
complaints were made of their listlessness. They were accused of indolence
and incapacity. All ttie leaders of clubs and sections, weary of eloquent
speeches without result, loudly demanded an active and concentrated direc-
tion, that the popular efforts might not be unavailing.
There was at the Jacobins a room appropriated to the business of corres-
pondence. Here had been formed a central committee of federalists, for the
purpose of concerting and arranging their proceedings. In order that their
resolutions might be the more secret and energetic, this committee was
limited to five members, and was called among themselves the insurrectional
committee. These five members were Vaugeois, grand vicar; Debesse of
La Drome ; Guillaume, professor at Caen ; Simon, journalist at Strashm-g;
and Galissot of Langres. To these were soon added ('arra,* Gorsas, Four-
nier the American, Westermann,t Kienlin of Strashurgh, Santerre, Alexan-
dre, commandant of the fauxbourg St. Marceau, a Pole named Lazouski, cap-
lain of the gunners in the artillery of St. Marceau, Antoine of Metz, an ex-con-
stituent, and Lagrey and Garin, two electors. It was joined by Manuel,
Camille Desmoulins,:[: and Danton; and these exercised the greatest influence
* "J. li. Carra called himself a man of letters before the Revolution, because he had writ-
ten some bad articles in the EncyclopaBdia. At the beginning of the troubles, he went to
Paris; made himself remarkable among the most violent revolutionists, and, in 1789. pro-
posed the formation of the municipality of Paris, and of the city guard. It was Carra who
thought of arming the people with pikes. Always preaching up murder and ])illage in his
writings, he was one of the chiefs of the revolt of the lOlh of August, 1792 ; and in his jour-
nal, he gloried in having traced out the plan of that day. Being denounced by Robespierre,
he was condemned to death, and executed at the age of fifty. Carra was the author of several
works, which have long since sunk into oblivion." — Biou;raphic Mudcrne. E.
-t" " Fr. Joseph Westermann, born at Molsheim, in Alsace, was an officer under the mo-
narchy, but embraced the revolutionary party with ardour. On the 10th of August, be was
the first who forced the Tuileries at the head of the Brest battalions. In 1792, and the fol-
lowing year, he distinguished himself by his bravery at the head of the Legion du Nord, of
which he had obtained the command. He was afterwards transferred, with the rank of ge-
neral of brigade, to the army which Biron then commanded in La Vendee, hi Chalillon,
however, he was comjiletcly defeated ; his infantry was cut to pieces ; and he himself escaped
with diiricully. Being attached to the party of the ('ordeliers, he was denounced with them,
and executed in 1794, in the fortieth year of his age." — Bincrmphie Mndcrne. E.
" Westermann ran from massacre to massacre, sparing neither adversaries taken in arms,
nor even the peaceful inhabitants of the country." — rrudhimnne. E.
i "Camille Desmouliiis hail natural abilities, some education, but an extravagant imagina-
tion. He stammered in his speech, and yet he harangued the mob without appearing ridicu-
lous, such was the inlUience which the vehemence of his language had over it. He was fond
of pleasure and of amusement of all kinds, and professed a sincere admiration of Hi>bespierre,
who then seemed to feel a friendship for him." — Memoirs of a Feer of France. E.
VOL. I. — 38
29S HISTORY OF THE
over it.* They entered into arransfements with Rarbaroux, who promised
the co-operation of his Marsellais, whose arrival was impatiently expected.
They placed themselves in communication with Petion, the mayor, and
obtained IVom him a promise not to prevent the insurrection. In return they
promised him to protect his residence and to place a guard upon it, in order
to justify his inaction by an appearance of constraint, if the enterprise should
miscarry.
* Particulars of the events of the lOth of August.
These particulars are extracted from a paper inserted in the Annales Politiques, signed
Carra, and entitled, Historical Sketch if the Origin and real Authors of the celebrated In-
surrection if the \Olh of August, which has saved the Republic. The author asserts that
the mayor had no hand whatever in the success, but that he happened to be in place, on this
occasion, like a real Providence for the patriots.
"Those men, says Jerome Petion, in his excellent speech on the proceedings instituted
against Maximilien Robespierre, who have attributed to themselves the glory of that day, are
those to whom it least belongs. It is due to those who prepared; it is due to the imperative
nature of things; it is due to the brave federalists and to their secret directory, which had
long concerted the plan of the insurrection ,- it is due, in short, to the guardian genius which
has constantly governed the destinies of France ever since the first meeting of its repre-
sentatives.
" It is of this secret directory which Jerome Petion speaks, and of which I shall speak in
my turn, both as a member of that directory and as an actor in all its operations. This secret
directory was formed by the central committee of federalists, which met in the correspondence-
room at the Jacobins, St. Honore. It was out of the forty-three members, who daily assem-
bled since the commencement of July in that room, that five were selected for the insurrec-
tional directory. These five members were Vaugeois, grand-vicar of the Bishop of Blois ;
Debesse, of the department of La Drome; Guillaume, professor at Caen; Simon, journalist
of Strasburg ; and Galissot, of Langress. I was added to these five members at the very
moment of the formation of the directory ; and, a few days afterwards, Foamier, the Ameri-
can ; Westermann ; Kienlin, of Strasburg; Santerre ; Alexandre, commandant of the faux-
bourg St. Marceau ; Antoine of Metz, the ex-constituent; Legrey ; and Garin, elector in
1789, were invited to join it.
"The first meeting of this directory was held in a small public-house, the Soleil d'Or, rue
St. Antoine, near the Bastille, in the night between Thursday and Friday, the 26lh of July,
after the civic entertainment given to the federalists on the site of the Bastille. Gorsas, the
patriot, attended at the public-house, which we left at two in the morning, when we repaired
to the column of liberty, on the site of the Bastille, to die there, in case of need, for the
country. It was to this public-house, the Soliel d'Or, that Fournier the American brought us
the red flag, the invention of which I had proposed, and upon which I had got inscribed these
words : Martial Law of the Sovereign People against the Rebellion of the Executive Power.
It was also to the same house that I took five hundred copies of a posting-bill containing
these words : Those who fire on the columns of the people shall instantly be put to death.
This bill, printed in the office of Buisson, the publisher, had been carried to Santerre's,
whither I went at midnight to fetch it. Our plan failed this time through the prudence of
the mayor, who probably conceived that we were not sutficiently guarded at the moment ;
and the second active meeting of the directory was adjourned to the 4th of August following.
" Nearly the same persons attended this meeting, and in addition to them Camille Des-
moulins. It was held at the Cadran Bleu, on the boulevard ; and, about eight in the evening,
it removed to the lodgings of Antoine, ex-constituent, rue St. Honore, opposite to the As-
sumption, in the very same house where Robespierre lives. His landlady was so alarmed at
this meeting that she came, about eleven o'clock at night, to ask Antoine if he was going to
get Robespierre murdered. ' If any one is to be murdered,' replied Antoine, ' no doubt it will
be ourselves ; Robespierre has nothing to fear from us ; let him but conceal himself.'
'• It was in this second active meeting that I wrote with my own hand the whole plan of
the insurrection, of the march of the columns, and of the attack of the palace. Simon made
a copy of this plan, and we sent it to Santerre and Alexandre, about midnight ; but a second
time our scheme miscarried, because Alexandre and Santerre were not yet sufficiently pre-
pared, and several wished to wait for the discussion fixed for the 10th of August on the sus-
pension of the King.
" At length, the third active meeting of this directory was held in the night between the
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 299
The plan definitively adopted was to repair in arms to the palace, and to
depose the King. But it Avas requisite to set the people in motion, and, to
succeed in this purpose, some extraordinary exciting cause was indispensably
necessary. Endeavours were made to produce one, and the subject was dis-
cussed at the Jacobins. Chabot,* the deputy, expatiated with all the ardour
of his disposition on tlie necessity for a great resolution, and he said that, in
order to bring about such a one, it was desirable that the court should
attempt the life of a deputy. Grangeneuve, himself a deputy, heard this
speech. lie was a man of limited understanding, but resolute disposition.
He took Chabot aside. " You are right," said he; "it is expedient that a
deputy should perish, but the court is too cunning to give us so fair an occa-
sion. You must make amends, and put me to death as soon as possible in
tlie environs of the palace. Prepare the means and keep your secret."
Chabot, seized witli enthusiasm, oll'ered to share his fate. Grangeneuve
assented, observing that two deaths would produce a greater effect than one.
Tliey agreed upon the day, the hour, and the means, of putting an end to
their lives, without maiming themselves, as they said ; and ihey separated,
resolved to sacrifice themselves for the success of the common cause. Gran-
geneuve, determined to keep his word, put his domestic affairs in order, and
proceeded at half-past ten o'clock at night, to the place of meeting. (Jhabot
was not there. lie waited. As Chabot did not come, he conceived that
he had changed his mind, but he hoped that, in regard to himself at least, the
execution would take j)hice. He walked to and IVo several times in expecta-
tion of the mortal blow, but was oblifred to return, safe and sound, with-
out enjoying the satisfaction of immolating himself for the sake of a
calumny. t
Tiie occasion so impatiently looked for did not occur, and the parlies
9th and lOth of August last, at the moment when the tocsm rang, anJ in three Jifferent places
at the same time; namely, Fournier the American, with some others, at the fauxhoure: St.
Marceau ; VVestcrmatin, Santerre, and two others, at the fauxl)ourg St. Antoine; Garin, jour-
nalist of Strasliurg, and myself, in the barracks of the .Marseillais, and in the very chaniber of
the commandant, where we were seen by the whole battalion.
" In this sketch, wliich contains nothing but what is strictly true, and the minutest details
of which I defy any j)erson whatever to contradict, it is seen that nothing is said of Marat or
of Robespierre, or of so many others who desire to pass for actors in that atfair ; and that
those who may directly ascribe to themselves the glory of the famous day of the 10th, arc the
persons whom I have named, and who formed the secret directory of the federalist."
* " F. Chabot, a Capuchin, born in the department of Aveyron, eagerly i>rofited by the
opportunity of breaking his vows, which the decree of the Constituent Assembly oHered him.
In 1792 he was appointed deputy of Loire et Cher to the legislature. In the same year, he
%vent so far as to cause himself to he slightly wounded by six conlideniial men, in order
that he might accuse the King of being the author of this assassination. It is asserted that
he even pressed Merlin and Bazire to murder him, and then to carry his bloody corpse into
the fauxbourg, to hasten the insurrection of the people, and the destruction of the n)onarch.
('habot was one of the chief instigators of the events of the 10th of August, and voted
afterwards for the death of the King. He was condennied to death by Robespierre as a par-
tizan of the Dantonisl faction. When he knew what his fate was to he, he poisoned himself
with corrosive sublimate of mercury ; but the dreadful pain he suffered having extorted shrieks
from him, he was conveyed to the infirmary, and his life prolonged till Ajiril, 17'J1, when
he was guillotined. Chabot died with firmness at the age of thirty-five." — Biographic
Mod erne. E.
•|-" J. A. Grangeneuve, a lawyer, was a deputy from the Gironde to the legislature. He
was one of those who, in concert with the Capuchin, Chabot, agreed to cause themselves to
he mangled by men whom they had in pay, in order to exasperate the people against the
court ; but he was afF^id of being mangled too elYectually, so gave up his project. He was
condemned to death asaGirondin in 1793. Grangeneuve was forty-three years old, and
was born at Bordeaux." — Biographie Moderne. E. ,
300 HISTORY OF THE
began mutually to accuse each other of want of courage, intelligence, and
unity. The Girondin deputies, Petion the mayor, and, in short, all persons
of any eminence, and who were obliged, either in the tribune or in the per-
formance of their official duties, to speak the language of the law, kept them-
selves more and more aloof, and condemned these incessant agitations, which
compromised them without producing any result. They reproached the
subaltern agitators with exhausting their strength in partial and useless
movements, which exposed the people without leading to any decisive event.
The latter, on the contrary, who did in their respective spheres all that they
could do, reproached the deputies and Petion, the mayor, for their public
speeches, and accused them of repressing the energy of the people.
Thus the deputies reproached the mass with not being organized, and the
latter complained that the deputies themselves were not. The want most
sensibly felt was that of a leader. We need a man, was the general cry,
but who is it to be ? No fit person was to be found among the deputies.
They were all of them rather orators than conspirators ; and, besides, their
elevated situation and their mode of life removed them too far from the mul-
titude, on whom it was necessary to act. In the same predicament were
Roland, Servan, and all those men whose courage was undoubted, but
whose rank lifted them too high above the populace. Petion might, from
his office, have had opportunity to communicate easily with the multitude ;
but he was cold, passionless, and capable of dying rather than acting. By
means of his system of checking petty agitations, for the benefit of a de-
cisive insurrection, he thwarted the dady movements, and lost all favour
with the agitators, whom he impeded without controlling. They wanted
a leader who, not having yet issued from the bosom of the multitude, had
not lost all power over it, and who had received from nature the spirit of
persuasion.
A vast field had been opened in the clubs, the sections, and the revolu-
tionary papers. Many had there distinguished themselves, but none
had yet gained a marked superiority. Camille Desmoulins had acquired
notice by his energy, his cynical spirit, his audacity, and his promptness in
attacking all those who seemed to flag in the revolutionary career. He was
known to tlie lower classes ; but he had neither the lungs of a popular
speaker, nor the activity and powers of persuasion of a party-leader.
Another public writer had gained a frightful celebrity. This was Marat,
known by the name of the Friend of the People, and who, by his instiga-
tions to murder, had become an object of horror to all those who yet retained
any moderation. A native of Neufchatel, and engaged in the study of the
physical and medical sciences, he had boldly attacked the most firmly-esta-
blished systems, and had shown an activity of mind tliat might be termed
convulsive. He was physician to the stables of Count d'Artois when the
Revolution commenced. He rushed without hesitation into a new career,
and soon acquired distinction in his section. He was of middle height,
with a large head, strongly-marked features, livid complexion, a piercing
eye and careless in his personal appearance. It was necessary, he asserted,
to strike off several thousand heads, and to destroy all the aristocrats, who
rendered liberty impossible. Horror and contempt were alternately excited
by him. People ran against him, trod upon his toes, made game of his
wretched-looking figure ; but accustomed to scientific squabbles and the
most extravagant assertions, he had learned to despise those who despised
him, and he pitied them as incapable of comprehending him.
Thenceforward he difi'used in his papers the horrid doctrine with which
FRENCH REVOLUTIOX. 301
he was imbued. Tlie subterraneous life to which he was doomed in order
to escape justice had lieated his temperament, and the public horror served
still more to excite it. Our polished manners were, according to his notions,
but vices which were hostile to republican equality; and, in his ardent
hatred for the obstacles, he saw but one means of safety — extermination.
His studies and his observations on the physical man must have accustomed
him to conquer the sight of pain ; and his ardent mind, unchecked by any
instinct of sensibility, proceeded directly to its goal by Avays of blood. That
same idea of operating by destruction had gradually become systematized
in his head. He proposed a dictator, not for the purpose of conferring on
him the pleasure of omnipotence, but of imposing upon him the terrible
task of purifying society. This dictator was to have a cannon-ball attached
to his leg, that he might always be in the power of the people. He was to
have but one faculty left him, that of pointing out victims and ordering
death as their only chastisement. Marat knew no other penalty, because
he was not for punishing but for suppressing the obstacle.
Perceiving aristocrats on all sides conspiring against liberty, he collected
here and there all the facts that gratified his passion. He denounced with
fury, and wilh a levity, which was the result of that very fury, all the names
mentioned to him, and which frequently had no existence. He denounced
them without personal hatred, without fear, nay, even without danger to
himself; because he was out of the pale of human society, and because the
relations between the injured and the injurer no longer existed between him
and his fellow-men.
Being recendy included in a decree of accusation wilh Royou, the King's
friend, he had concealed himself in the house of an obscure and indigent
advocate, who had afforded him an asylum, Barbaroux was requested to
call upon him. Barbaroux had cultivated the physical sciences, and had
formerly been acquainted with INTarat. He could not refuse to comply with
his request, and conceived, when he heard him, tliat his mind was deranged.
The French, according to this atrocious man, were but paltry revolutionists.
"Give me," said he, "two hundred Neapolitans, armed with daggers, and
bearing on the left arm a muff by way of buckler; with them I will traverse
France and produce a revolution." He proposed that, in order to mark the
aristocrats, the Assembly should order them to wear a white ribbon on the
arm, and that it should be lawful to kill them Avlien three were found toge-
ther. Under the name of aristocrats, he included the royalists, the Feuil-
lans, and the Girondins ; and when, by chance, the difficulty of recognising
and distinguishing- them was mentioned, he declared that it was impossible
to mistake ; that it was only necessary to fall upon those who had carriages,
servants, silk clothes, and who were coming out of the theatres. All such
were assuredly aristocrats.
Barbaroux left him horror-struck. Marat, full of his atrocious system,
concerned himself but little about the means of insurrection, and was more-
over incapable of preparing them. In his murderous reveries, he feasted
himself on tlie idea of retiring to Marsedles. 'I'he repul)lican enthusiasm
of that city led him to hope that there he should be better understood and
more cordially received. He had thoughts, therefore, of seeking refuge
there, and begged Barbaroux to send him thither with his recommendation.
But the latter, having no desire to make such a present to his native city,
left that insensate wretch, whose apotheosis he was then far from foreseeing,
where he found him.
The systematic and bloodthirsty Marat was not therefore the active chief
2C
302 HISTORY OF THE
who could have united these scattered and confusedly fermenting masses.
Robespierre would have been more capable of doing so, because he liad
gained at the Jacobins a patronizing circle of auditors, usually more active
than a patronizing circle of readers. But neither did he possess the requisite
qualities. Robespierre, an advocate of litde repute at Arras, had been sent
by that city as its deputy to the States-general. There lie had connected
himself with Petion and Buzot, and maintained with bitterness the opinions
which they defended with a deep and calm conviction. At first, he appeared
ridiculous, from the heaviness of his delivery and the mediocrity of his elo-
quence ; but his obstinacy gained him some attention, especially at the epoch
of the revision. When it was rumoured, after the scene in the Champ de
Mars, that the persons who had signed the petition of the Jacobins were to
be prosecuted, his terror and his youth excited the pity of Buzot and Roland.
An asvlum was offered to him, but he soon recovered from his alarm : and,
the Assembly having broken up, he intrenched himself at the JacoI)ins,
where he continued his dogmatic and inflated harangues. Being elected
public accuser, he refused that new office, and thought only how to acquire
the doul:)le reputation of an incorruptible patriot and an eloquent speaker.*
His first friends, Petion, Buzot, Brissot, and Roland, admitted him to
their houses, and observed with pain his mortified pride, which was betrayed
by his looks and by his every motion. They felt an interest for him, and
regretted that, thinking so much of the public welfare, he should also think
so much of himself. He was, however, a person of too little importance for
people to be angry with him for his pride ; and it was forgiven on account
of his mediocrity and his zeal. It was particularly remarked that, silent in
all companies, and rarely expressing his sentiments, he was the first on the
following day to retail in the tribune the ideas of others which he had thus
collected. This observation was mentioned to him, but unaccompanied with
any reproach ; and he soon began to detest this society of superior men, as
he had detested that of his constituents. He then betook himself entirely to
the Jacobins, where, as we have seen, he difTered in opinion from Brissott
• " Robespierre felt rebuked and humiliated among the first chiefs of the Revolution ; he
vowed within himself to be one day without a rival, and started for the goal with an unde-
viating, passionless, pitiless fixedness of purpose, which seems more than human. He is a
proof what mediocre talents suffice to make a tyrant. His views were ordinary — his thoughts
were low — his oratory was wretched. But he was a man of a single ruling idea, and of in-
defatigable perseverance. His devouring ambition was not to be confounded with that of a
common usurper aspiring at political tyranny. It was rather that of the founder of a sect,
and even a fanatic in his way. He seems to have formed for himself a system out of the
boldest and wildest visions of Rousseau, domestic, social, and political. But he had not a
particle of the fervour, eloquence, or enthusiasm of that philosopher. To propagate the new
creed by persuasion, was, therefore, not thought of by him ; but he had craft, hypocrisy, im-
penetrable reserve, singleness of purpose, and apathetic cruelty ; and, accordingly, he resolved
to effect his vast scheme of reform by immolating a whole generation. Robespierre was
severe, frugal, and insensible to the pomps, vanities, seductions, and allurements which cor-
rupt or influence the great mass of the world." — Brithh and Foreign Review. E.
j- The following is the opinion entertained of Brissot by Lafayette, who knew him well :
" It is impossible not to be struck with various contrasts in the life of Brissot: a clever man,
undoubtedly, and a skilful journalist, but whose talents and influence have been greatly over-
rated both by friends and enemies. In other times, before he became a republican, he had
made the old regime a sulijcct of eulogy. It seems pretty well proved that, a few days before
the lOlh of August, he, and some agitators of his party, had been intriguing with the vaiets-
de-chambre of the Tuileries ; even after this insurrection, their only desire was to govern in
the name of the prince royal. Brissot, on the very eve of denouncing Lafayette, told the
Abbe Duvernet, then member of the society of Jacobins, that the person he was going to
accuse, was the man of all others whom he esteemed and revered the most. Even while
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 303
and Lou vet on the question of war, and called them, nay, perhaps believed
them to be, bad citizens, because their sentiments did not coincide with his,
and they supported their opinions with eloquence. Was he sincere, when
he inimedialcly suspected those who had opposed hiin, or did he slander
them wiltuUy? These are the mysteries of minds. But, with a narrow
and common intellect, and with extreme susceptibility, it was easy to ^ive
him unfavourable impressions and diilicult to correct them. It is therefore
not impossible that a hatred from pride may have changed in him to a hatred
from principle, and that he soon believed all those to be wicked who had
offended him.
Be this as it may, in the lower sphere in which he moved, he excited
enthusiasm by his dogmatism and by his reputation for incorruptilnlity. He
thus founded his po])ularity upon lilind passions and moderate understand-
ings. Austerity and cold dogmatism captivate ardent characters, nay, often
superior minds. 'I'here were actually men who were disposed to discover
in Robespierre real energy and talents superior to those wliich he pos-
sessed. Camille Desmoulins called him his Aristides, and thought him
eloquent.
Others, without talents, but subdued by his pedantry, went about repeating
that he was the man who ought to be put at the head of the Revolution, and
that without such a dictator it could not go on. For his part, winking at all
these assertions of his partisans, he never attended any of the secret meetings
of the conspirators. He complained even of bciuir compromised, because
one of them dwelling in the same house as himself had occasionally brought
thither the insurrectional committee. He kept himself, therefore, in the
back-ground, leaving the business of acting to his panegyrists, Panis,
Sergent, Osselin, and other members of the sections and of the municipal
councils.
Marat, who was looking for a dictator, wished to ascertain if Robespierre
was fit for the office. The neglected and cynical person of IMarat formed a
striking contrast to that of Robespierre, who was particularly attentive to
external appearance. In the retirement of an elegant cabinet, wliere his
image was repeated in all possible ways, in painting, in engraving, and in
sculpture, he devoted himself to assiduous study, and was continually read-
ing Rousseau, in order to glean ideas for his speeches. Marat saw him,
found in him nothing but petty animosities, no great system, none of that
sanguinary audacity which he himself derived from his monstrous convic-
tions — in short, no genius. He departed, filled with contempt for this little
man, declared him incapable of saving the state, and became more firmly
persuaded than ever that he alone possessed the grand social system.
The partisans of Robespierre surrounded Barbaroux, and wished to con-
duct the latter to him, saying that a man was wanted, and that Robespierre
alone could be that man. This language displeased Barbaroux, whose bold
spirit could not brook the idea of a dictatorship, and whose ardent imao^ina-
tion was already seduced by the virtue of Roland and the talents of his
friends. He called nevertheless on Robespierre. They talked, during the
interview, of Petion, whose popularity threw Robespierre into the shade,
and who, it was alleged, was incapable of serving the Revolution. Barba-
roux replied witli warmth to the reproaches urged against Petion, and, as
warmly defended a character which he admired. Robespierre talked of the
continuing to calumniate Lafayette, he testified in private for him the same esteem to varioua
persons — Lord Lauderdale, anionc: others — a witness whose evidence will hardly be refused
aad who often spoke of it in London." — Lafayette's Memoirs. E.
304 HISTORY OF THE
Revolution, and repeated, according to his custom, that he had accelerated
its march. He concluded, as everybody else did, by saying that a leader
was wanted. Barbaroux replied that he wanted neither dictator nor King.
Freron observed that Brissot was desirous of being dictator. Thus reproaches
were bandied from one to the other, and tliey could not agree. As they
went away, Panis, wishing to counteract the bad effect of this interview,
said to Barbaroux that he had mistaken the matter, that it was but a mo-
mentary authority that was contemplated, and that Robespierre was the only
man on whom it could be conferred. It was these vague expressions, these
petty rivalries, which falsely persuaded tlie Girondins that Robespierre de-
signed to act the usurper. An ardent jealousy was mistaken in him for
ambition. But it was one of those errors which the confused vision of par-
ties is continually committing. Robespierre, capable at the utmost of hating
merit, had neither the strcngtli nor the genius of ambition, and his partisans
raised pretensions for him which he himself would not have dared to con-
ceive.
Danton was more capable than any other of being the leader whom all
ardent imaginations desired, for the purpose of giving unity to the revolu-
tionary movements. He had formerly tried the bar, but without success. Poor
and consumed by passions, he tiien rushed into the political commotions
with ardour, and probably with hopes. He was ignorant, but endowed with
a superior understanding and a vast imagination. His athletic figure, his
flat and somewhat African features, his thundering voice, his eccentric but
grand images, captivated his auditors at the Cordeliers and the sections. His
face expressed by turns the brutal passions, jollity, and even good-nature.
Danton neidier envied nor hated anybody, but his audacity was extraordinary ;
and, in certain moments of excitement, he was capable of executing all that
the atrocious mind of Marat was capable of conceiving.
A Revolution, the unforeseen but inevitable effect of which had been to
set the lower against the upper classes of society, could not fail to awaken
envy, to give birtli to new systems, and to let loose the brutal passions.
Robespierre was the envious man, Marat the systematic man, and Danton
the impassioned, violent, fickle, and by turns cruel and generous man. If
the two former, engrossed, the one by a consuming envy, the other by mis-
chievous systems, could not have many of those wants which render men
accessible to corruption, Danton, on the contrary, the slave of his passions,
and greedy of pleasure, must have been nothing less tlian incorruptible.
Under pretext of compensating him for the loss of his former place of advo-
cate to the conned, the court gave him considerable sums. But, though it
contrived to pay, it could not gain him.* He continued, nevertheless, to
harangue and to excite the mob of the clubs against it. When he was
reproached with not fulfilling his bargain, he replied that, in order to retain
* " I never saw any countenance that so strongly expressed the violence of brutal passions,
and the most astonishing audacity, half-disguised by a jovial air, an atrectation of frankness,
and a sort of simplicity, as D.mton's. In 1789 he was a needy lawyer, more burdened with
debts than causes. He went to Belgium to augment his resources, and, after the 10th of
August, had the hardihood to avow a fortune of 158,333/., and to wallow in luxury, while
preaching sans-culottism, and sleeping on heaps of slaughtered men." — Madame RolancTa
Memoirs. E.
" Danton was an exterminator without ferocity ; inexorable with regard to the mass, but
humane and even generous towards individuals. At the time when the commune was
meditating the massacres of September, he saved all who came to him ; and, of his own
accord, discharged from prison Duport, Barnave, and Charles Lameth, who were in some
measure his personal antagonists.'" — Mignei, E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 305
the means of serving the court, lie was obliged in appearance to treat it as
an enemy,
Danton was therefore the most formidable leader of those bands which
were won and guided by pidjlic oratory. But, audacious and fond of hurry-
ing forward to the decisive moment, lie was not capable of that assiduous
toil which the diirst of rule requires ; and, though he possessed great influ-
ence over the conspirators, he did not yet govern them, lie was merely
capable, when they hesitated, of rousing their courage and propelling them
to a goal by a derisive plan of operation.
The different members of the insurrectional committee had not yet been
able to agree. The court, apprized of their sliglitest movements, took, on
its part, some measures for screening itself against a sudden attack, so tliat
it might be enabled to await in safety the arrival of the coalesced powers.
It had formed a club, called the French club, which met near the palace, and
Avas composed of artisans and soldiers of the national guard. They had all
tiieir arms concealed in the very building in whicli they assembled; and they
could, in case of emergency, hasten to the aid of the royal family. This
single association cost the civil list ten thousand francs per day. A Marseil-
lais, named Lieutaud, kept moreover in pay a band which alternately occu-
pied the tribunes, the public places, the coffee-houses, and the public-houses,
for the purpose of speaking in favour of the King, and opposing the continual
tumults of die patriots. *^ Quarrels occurred, in fact, everywhere, and from
words die parties almost always came to blows ; but, in spite of all the efforts
of the court, its adherents were thinly scattered, and that portion of the
national guard which was attached to it was reduced to the lowest state of
discouragement.
A great number of faithful servants, who had till then been at a distance
from the dirone, had come forward to defend the King and to make a ram-
part for him willi their bodies. Tlieir meetings at the palace were numerous,
and they increased the public distrust. After the scene in February, 1790,
they were called knights of tlie dagger. Letters had been delivered for the
purpose of calling secredy together the constitutional guard, wliich, though
disbanded, had always received its pay. During this time, conflicting opi-
nions were maintained around the King, which produced the most painful
perplexities in his weak and naturally wavering mind. Some intelliirent
friends, among others, Malesherbes,t advised him to abdicate. Others, and
these constituted the majority, recommended flight. For the rest, they were
far from agreeing eidier upon the means, or the place, or the result of the
invasion. In order to reconcile these different plans, the King desired Bcr-
trand de MoUeville to see and to arrange matters wiUi Duport, tlie constituent.
The King had great confidence in the latter, and he was obliged to give a
positive order to Bertrand, who alleged that he disliked to have any com-
munication with a constitutionalist such as Duport. ± To Uiis committee
belonged also Lally-ToUendal, JNIallouet, Clermont-Tonnerre, Gouvernet,
and others, all devoted to Louis XVI., but otherwise differing widely as to
• See Bertrand de MoUeville, tomes TJii. and ix. -j- See Ibid.
t " Bertrand de MoUeville, a stanch royalist, was, first controller of Breta^ne, and after-
wards minister of marine, to which post he was appointed in 1791. After the events of the
10th of August, he was imprisoned by the Jacobins, but succeeded in making his escape to
London, where he publLshcd a voluminous history of the Revolution, which met with great
success. He did not return to Paris after the 18th of Brumaire (1799), but followed the
fortunes of the Bourbons." — Biographic Muderne. E.
VOL. I 39 2c2
306 HISTORY OF THE
the part wliich royalty ouglrt to be made to act, if they could contrive to
save it.
The flight of the King and his retreat to the caslle of Gaillon, in Nor-
mandy, were tlien resolved upon. The Duke de Liancourt, a friend of the
King, and possessing his unlimited confidence, commanded that province.
He answered for his troops and for the inhabitants of Rouen, who had, in
an energetic address, declared tliemselves against the 20th of June. He
oflered to receive the royal family, and to conduct it to Gaillon, or to con-
sign it to Lafayette, who would convey it into the midst of his army. He
offered, moreover, his whole fortune for the purpose of seconding this pro-
ject, asking permission to reserve for his children merely an annuity of one
hundred louis. This plan was liked by the constitutional members of the
committee, because, instead of placing the King in the hands of the emigrants,
it put him under the care of the Duke de Liancourt and Lafayette. For the
same reason it displeased others, and was likely to displease the Queen and
the King. Still, the castle of Gaillon possessed the important advantage of
being only thirty-six leagues from the sea, and of offering an easy flight to
England through Normandy, a favourably-disposed province. It had also
another, namely, that of being only twenty leagues from Paris. The King
could therefore repair thither without violating the constitutional law ; and
this had great weight with him, for he was extremely tenacious of not com-
mitting any open infringement of it.
M. de Narbonne and Necker's daughter, Madame de Stael,* likewise de-
vised a plan of flight. The emigrants, on their part, proposed another.
This was to carry the King to Compiegne, and thence to the banks of the
Rhine, throught the forest of the Ardennes. Every one is eager to offer
ladvice to a weak King, because every one aspires to impart to him a will
which he has not. So many contrary suggestions added to the natural inde-
cision of Louis XVL; and this unfortunate prince, beset by conflicting coun-
sels, struck by the reason of some, hurried away by the passion of others,
tortured by apprehensions concerning the fate of his family, and disturbed
by scruples of conscience, wavered between a thousand projects, and beheld
the popular flood approaching without daring either to flee from or to con-
front it.t
• " The Baroness de Stael-Holstein, was the daughter of the well-known Necker. Her birth,
her tastes, her principles, the reputation of her father, and above all, her conduct in the Revo-
lution, brought her prominently before the world : and the political factions, and the literary
circles with which she has been connected, have by turns disputed with each other for her
fiime. After the death of Robespierre, she returned to Paris, and became an admirer of Bona-
parte, with whom she afterwards quarrelled, and who banished her from France. She went
to live at Coppet, where she received the last sighs of her father, and where she herself died.
She published many works, the best of which is her novel of' Corinne.' When in England,
in 1812, she was much courted by the higher classes." — Biographic Moderne. E.
-j- " The errors of Louis XVI. may truly be said to have originated in a virtuous principle.
As to his weaknesses, I shall not endeavour to conceal them. I have more than once had
occasion to lament the indecision of this unfortunate prince; his repugnance to adopt the
bold measures which might have saved him; and his want of that energy of character, and
self-confidence which impose on the multitude, who are ever prone to believe that he who
commands with firmness and an air of authority possesses the means of enforcing obedience.
But I will venture to say, that the very faults above enumerated did not belong to his natural
character, but were ingrafted on it by the selfish indolence of M. de Maurepas." — Private
Memoirs of Btrtrand de Mulkville. E.
" Louis XVL was the grandson of Louis XV., and the second son of the dauphin by his
second wife, Marie Josephine, daughter of Frederick Augustus, King of Poland and Elector
of Saxony. Louis was born in 1754, and in 1770 married Marie Antoniette of Austria
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 307
The Girondiii deputies, wlio had so boldly broached the question of the
forfeiture of tlie crown, continued, nevcrtlieles.s, undecided on the eve of an
insurrection ; and, tliough the court was almost disarmed, and the supreme
power was on the side of the people, still the approach of the Prussians, and
the dread always excited by an old authority, even after it is disarmed, per-
suadetl them that it would be better to come to terms with the court than to
expose themselves to the chances of an attack. In case this attack siiould
even prove successful, ihev feared lest the arrival of the Prussians, which
was very near at hand, should destroy all the results of a victory over the
palace, and cause a momentary success to be followed by terrible vengeance.
Notwitlistanding-, however, this disposition to treat, they opened no nego-
tiations on the subject, and durst not venture to make the first overtures; but
they listened to a man named Boze, painter to the King, and very intimate
with Thierry, valet-de-chambre of Louis XVI. Boze, alarmed at the
danjrers which threatened the public weal, exhorted them to write what
they thought proper, in this extremity, to save the King and liberty. They
accordingly drew up a letter, which was signed by Guadet, Gensonne, and
Vergniaud, and which began with these words. "You ask us, sir, what is
our opinion respecting the present situation of France." This exordium
sutficiendy proves that the explanation had been called for. It was no longer
time, said the three deputies to Boze, for the King to deceive himself, and
he would do so most egregiously, if he did not perceive that his conduct was
the cause of the general agitation, and of that violence of the clubs of which
he was continually complaining. New protestations on his part would be
useless, and appear derisory, for at the point to which things had come, de-
cisive steps were absolutely necessary to give confidence to the people.
Everybody, for instance, was persuaded that it was in the power of the King
to keep the foreign armies away. He ought, therefore, to begin by making
them draw back. He shouhl then choose a patriotic ministry, dismiss
Lafayette, who, in the existing state of affairs, could no longer serve him use-
fully, issue a law for the constitutional education of the young dauphin, sub-
mit to the public accountability of the civil list, and solemnly declare that he
would not accept any increase of power without the free consent of the
nation. On these conditions, added the Girondins, it was to be hoped that the
irritation would subside, and that, in time and by perseverance in this sys-
tem, the King would recover the confidence which he had then entirely lost.
Assuredly, the Girondins were very near the attainment of their aim, if a
With the best intentions, but utterly inexperienced in government, he ascended the throne in
1774, when he was hardly twenty years of ae^e. In his countenance, which was not desti-
tute of dignity, were delineated the prominent features of his character — integrity, indecision,
and weakness. He was somewhat stitf in demeanour; and his manners had none of the
grace possessed by almost all the princes of the blood. He was fond of reading, and en-
dowed with a most retentive memory. He trnn.slated some parts of Giblion's history. It was
the fault of this unfortunate monarch to yield too easily to the extravagant tastes of the Queen
and the court. The latter years of bis reign were one continued scene of tumult and con-
fusion ; and he was guillotined in 179:}, in the 99th year of his age. He was buried in the
Magdalen church-yard, Paris, between the graves of tho.se who were crushed to death in the
crowd at the Louvre, on the anniversary of bis marriage in 1774, and of the Swiss who fell
on the 10th of August, 1792." — Enci/clopiedia Americana. E.
" The Revolution was an inheritance bequeathed to Louis by his ancestors. He was more
fitted than any of those who preceiled him, to prevent or terminate it; for he was capable of
being a reformer before it broke out, or of being a constitutional monarch after it. He is per-
haps the only prince wlio, destitute of passions, had not even that of jiower. With a little
iQore strength of mind, Louis would have been a model of a king." — Mignet. E.
SOS HISTORY OF THE
republic had been a system for which they had long and steadily conspired.
And, when so near this goal, would they have stopped short, and even have
renounced it, to obtain the ministry for three of their friends ! This was not
likely, and it becomes evident that a republic was desired only from despair
of the monarchy, that it never was a iixed plan, and that, on the very eve of
attaining it, those who are accused of having long paved the way to it would
not sacrifice the public weal for its sake, but would have consented to a con-
stitutional monarchy, if it were accompanied witli suflicient safeguards. The
care taken by the Girondins to demand the removal of the foreign troops
plainly proves that tliey were wholly engrossed by the existing danger; and
the attention wliich they paid to the education of the dauphin atlbrds as
strong a proof that monarchy was not to them an insupportable prospect for
the future.
It has been asserted that Brissot, on his part, had made offers to prevent
tlie dethronement of the King, and that the payment of a very large sum was
one of the conditions. This assertion is advanced by Bertrand de MoUeville,
who always dealt in calumny for two reasons — malignity of heart, and false-
ness of mind. But he adduces no proof of it; and the known poverty of
Brissot and his enthusiastic principles ought to answer for him. It is, to be
sure, not impossible that the court might have consigned money to the care
of Brissot; but this would not prove that the money was either asked for or
received by him. The circumstance already related respecting Petion, whom
certain swindlers undertook to bribe for the court — this circumstance, and
many others of the same kind, sufficiently prove what credit ought to be at-
tached to these charges of venality, so frequently and so easily hazarded.
Besides, let matters stand as they will in regard to Brissot, the three deputies,
Guadet, Gensonne, and Vergniaud, have not even been accused, and they
were the only persons who signed the letter delivered to Boze.
The deeply wounded heart of the King was less capable than ever of list-
ening to their prudent advice. Thierry handed him the letter, but he harshly
pushed it back, and returned his two accustomed answers, that it was not he
but the patriotic ministry who had provoked the war, and that, as for the
constitution, he adhered to it faithfully, whilst others were exerting all their
efforts to destroy it.* These reasons were not the most just; for, though
he had not provoked the war, it was not the less his duty to carry it on Mith
vigour; and, as for his scrupulous fidelity to the letter of the law, the observ-
ance of tliat letter was of little consequence. It behoved him not to com-
promise the thing itself by calling in foreigners.
* Copy of the Letter written to Citizen Boze, by Guadet, Vergniaud, and Gensonne.
You ask us, sir, what is our opinion respecting the present situation of France, and the
choice of the measures that are capable of protecting the public weal from the urgent dangers
with which it is threatened ; this is a subject of uneasiness to good citizens and the object of
their profoundest meditations.
Since you question us upon such important interests, we shall not hesitate to explain our
sentiments with frankness.
It can no longer be denied that the conduct of the executive power is the immediate cause
of all the evils that afflict France and of the dangers that surround the throne. They only
deceive the King, who strive to persuade him that exaggerated opinions, the effervescence of
the clubs, the manoeuvres of certain agitators, and powerful factions, have occasioned and
keep up those commotions, the violence of which each day is liable to increase, and the con-
sequences of which it will perhaps be no longer possible to calculate: this is placing the
cause of the disorder in its symptoms.
If the people were easy respecting the success of a revolution so dearly bought, if the
public liberty were no longer in danger, if the conduct of the King excited no distrust,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 309
To the hopes entertained by the Girondins that their counsels would be
followed must no doubt be attributed the moderation which they displayed
opinions would find iheir level of themselves ; the great mass of the citizens would only think
of enjoying the benefits insured to them by the constitution; and if, in this state of things,
factions should still exist, they would cease to be dangerous — they would no longer have
either pretext or object.
But, so long as the public liberty shall be in danger, so long as the alarms of the citizens
shall be kept up by the conduct of the executive power, and conspiracies hatched within and
without the realm shall appear to be more or less openly encouraged by the King, this state
of things necessarily produces disturbances, disorder, and factions. In the best-constimted
stales, stales that have been constituted for ages, revolutions have no other principle ; and
with us the effect must be the more prompt, inasmuch as there has lieen no interval between
the movements which led to the first and those which seem at this day to indicate a second
revolution.
It is, therefore, but too evident that the present state of things must lead to a crisis, almost
all the chances of which will be against royalty. In fact, the interests of the King are sepa-
rated from those of the nation : the first public functionary of a free nation is made a
party-leader, and, by this horrible policy, the odium of all the evils that afflict France is
thrown upon him.
Ah ! what can be the success of the foreign powers, even though, by means of their inter
ventioii, the authority of the King should be enlarged, and a new form given to the govern-
ment ? Is it not evident that those who have entertained the idea of this congress, have
sacrificed to their prejudices, to their private interest, the very interest of the monarch ; that
the success of these manoeuvres would impart a character of usurpation to powers which the
nation alone delegates, and which nothing but its confidence can uphold 1 Why have they
not perceived that the force which should bring about this change would long be necessary
for its conservation ; and that there would thus be sown in the bosom of the kingdom the
seed of dissensions and discord, which the lapse of several agts could alone stifle!
Alike sincerely and invariably attached to the interests of the nation, from which we
never shall separate those of the King so long as he does not separate them himself, we
think that the only way of preventing the evils with which the empire is threatened and to
restore tranquillity, would be for the King, by his conduct, to put an end to all cause for
alarm, to speak out by facts in the most frank and unequivocal manner, and to surround
himself, in short, with the confidence of the people, which alone constitutes his strength and
can alone constitute his happiness.
It is not at this time of day that he can accomplish this by new protestations; they would
be derisory, and in the present circumstances they would assume a character of irony, which,
so far from dispelling alarm, would only increase the danger.
There is only one from which any effect could be expected ; nameJy, a most solemn
declaration that in no case would the King accept any augmentation of power that was not
voluntarily granted by the French people, without the concurrence and intervention of any
foreign power, and freely discussed according to the constitutional forms.
On this head it is even remarked that several members of the National Assembly know
that such a declaration was proposed to the King, when he submitted the proposition for war
against the King of Hungary, and that he did not think fit to make it.
But it might perhaps suflfice to re-establish confidence, if the King were to prevail on the
coalesced powers to acknowledge the independence of the French nation, to put an end to all
hostilities, and to withdraw the cordons of troops which threaten the frontiers.
It is impossible for a very great part of the nation to help feeling convinced that the King
has it in his power to dissolve this coalition ; and, so long as it shall endanger the public
liberty, we must not flatter ourselves that confidence can revive.
If the efforts of the King for this purpose were unavailing, he ought at least to assist the
nation, by all the means in his power, to repel the external attack, and not neglect anything
to remove from himself the suspicion of encouraging it.
In this supp<«ition, it is easy to conceive that suspicion and distrust originate in unfortu-
nate circumstances, which it is impossible to change.
To make a crime of these, when the danger is real and cannot be mistaken, is the readiest
way to increase suspicion : to complain of exaggeration, to attack the clubs, to inveigh
against agitators, wheij^the effervescence and agitation are the natural elfect of circumstances,
is to give them new strength, to augment the perturbation of the people by the very means
tlial are employed to calm it.
310 HISTORY OF THE
when it was proposed to take up the question of the forfeiture of the crown —
a question daily discussed in the chibs, amon^ the groups out of doors, and
in petitions. Whenever they came, in the name of the commission of
twelve, to speak of the danger of the country and the means of preventing
it, they were met by the cry of " Go back to the cause of the danger" —
" To the cause," repeated the tribunes. Vergniaud, Brissot, and the Gi-
rondins, replied that they had their eyes upon the cause, and that in due
time it should be unveiled ; but for the moment it behoved them not to
throw down a fresh apple of discord.
In consequence of an entertainment given to the federalists, the insurrec-
tional committee resolved that its partizans should meet on the morning of
the 26th of July, for the purpose of proceeding to the palace, and that they
should march with tiie red flag, beai'ing this inscription : '■'■Those ivJio fire
upon the columns of the people shaliinstantly be put to death.'''' The inten-
Whilst there shall be a subsisting anil known action against liberty, reaction is inevitable,
and the development of both will be equally progressive.
In so arduous a situation, tranquillity can be restored only by the absence of all danger;
and, until this happy period shall arrive, it is of the utmost importance to the nation and to
the King that these unhappy circumstances be not imbittered by conduct, at least equivocal,
on the part of the agents of the executive power.
1. Why does not the King choose his ministers from among those who are most decided
in favour of the Revolution? Why, in the most critical moments, is he surrounded only by
men who are unknown or suspected^ If it could be advantageous to the King to increase
the distrust and to excite the people to commotions, could he pursue a more likely course to
foment them 1
The selection of ministers has been at all times one of the most important prerogatives of
the power with which the King is invested ; it is the thermometer according to which the
pui)lic opinion has always judged of the dispositions of the court ; and it is easy to conceive
what might be at this day the efTect of that choice, which, in very different times, would have
excited the most violent murmurs.
A thoroughly patriotic ministry would, therefore, be one of the best means that the King
can employ to restore confidence. But he would egregiously deceive himself, who should
suppose that by a single step of this kind it could be easily recovered. It is only in the
course of time and by continued efforts that one can flatter oneself with the prospect of
erasing impressions too deeply engraven to be removed at the instant to the very slightest
vestige.
2. At a moment when all the means of defence ought to be employed, when France
cannot arm all her defenders, why has not the King offered the muskets and the horses of
his guard ?
3. Why does not the King himself solicit a law for subjecting the civil list to a form of
accountability, which can assure the nation that it is not diverted from its legitimate purpose
and applied to other uses T
4. One of the best means of making the people easy respecting the personal dispositions
of the King would be for him to solicit himself a law relative to the education of the prince-
royal, and thus hasten the moment when the care of that young prince shall be consigned to
a governor possessing the confidence of the nation.
5. Complaints are still made that the decree for disbanding the staff" of the national guard
is not sanctioned. These numerous refusals of sanction to legislative measures which public
opinion earnestly demands, and the urgency of which cannot be mistaken, provoke the
examination of the constitutional question respecting the application of the velu to laws of
circumstance, and are not of such a nature as to dispel alarm and discontent.
6. It is of great importance that the King should withdraw the command of the army
from M. Lafayette. It is at least evident that he cannot usefully serve the public cause there
any longer.
We shall conclude this slight sketch with a general observation : it is this, that whatever
can remove suspicion and revive confidence cannot and ought not to be neglected. The
constitution is saved if the King lakes this resolution with courage, and if he persists in it
with firmness.
We are, &c.
FREN'CH REVOLUTION. 311
tion was to make tlie Kin? prisoner and to confine him at Vincennes. The
national jrirard at Versailles had been requested to second this movement ;
but the application had been made so late, and there Avas so little concert
with that corps, that its officers came on the very same morning to the
mayor's residence at Paris, to inquire how they were to act. The secret
was so ill kept that the court was already apprized of it. All the royal
family was stirring, and the palace was full of people. Petion perceiving
that the measures had not been judiciously taken, fearful of some treachery,
and considering moreover diat the Marseillais had not yet arrived, repaired
in the utmost haste to the fauxbourg, to stop a movement which nmst have
ruined the popular party if it had not succeeded.
The tumult in the fauxbourgs was tremendous. The tocsin had been
ringing there all night. The rumour spread for the purpose of exciting the
people was, that a quantity of arms had been collected in the palace, and
they were urged to go and bring them away. Petion succeeded, with great
difficulty, in restoring order, and Champion de Cice, keeper of tlie seals,
who also repaired to the spot, received several sabre strokes. At length the
people consented to stay, and the insurrection was deferred.
The petty quarrels and wran<rlings which arc the usual prelude to a defini-
tive rupture, continued witliout intermission. Tlie King had caused the
garden of the Tuileries to be closed ever since the 20th of June. The
Terrace of the Feuillans, leading to the Assembly, was alone open ; and the
sentries had directions not to sulfer any person to pass from that terrace into
the garden. D'Espremenil was there met conversing loudly Avith a deputy.
He was hooted, pursued into the garden, and carried to the Palais Royal,
where he received several wounds. The prohibition to penetrate into the
garden having been violated, a motion was made for supplying its place by
a decree. The decree, however, Avas not passed. It Avas merely proposed
to set up a board Avith the words. " // i.s forhiilden to frcspass en these
grounds." The board Avas accordingly erected, and it was sufficient to pre-
vent the people from setting foot in the garden, though the King had caused
the sentries to be removed. Thus courtesy ceased to be any^ longer observed.
A letter from Nancy, for instance, reported several civic traits Avhich had
occurred in that city. The Assembly immediately sent a copy of it to the
King.
At length, on the 30th of .Tuly, the Marseillais arrived. They Avere five
hundred in number, and their ranks comprised all the most fiery spirits that
the South could produce, and all the most turbulent characters that com-
merce brought to the port of Marseilles. Barbaroux Avent to Charenton to
meet them. On tliis occasion a ncAv scheme Avas concerted Avith Santerre.
It Avas proposed, upon pretext of going to meet the Marseillais, to collect the
people of the fauxbourgs, and afterAvards to repair in good order to the Car-
rousel, and there encamp witliout tumult, until the Assembly had suspended
the King, or till he had abdicated of his own accord.
This project pleased the philanthropists of the party, Avho Avould fain haA-e
terminated the Kevolutinn Avithout bloodshed. It failed, however, because
Santcrre did not succeed in assembling the fauxl)our<r, and could lead only a
small number of men to meet the Marseillais. Sanlerre immediately offered
them a repast, Avhich Avas served up in the Champs Elysees. On the same
day, and at the same moment, a pnrtA- of the national guards of the liattalion
of the Filles St. Tliomas, and of other persons, clerks or military men,
AvhoUy devoted to the court, Avere dining near the spot Avhere the Marseillais
were being entertained. Most assuredly this dinner hud not been prepared
312 HISTORY OF THE
witli the intention of disturbing that of the Marseillais, since the offer made to
the latter was unexpected, for, instead of an entertainment, it was an insur-
rection that liad been contemplated. It was, nevertheless, impossible for
neighbours so adverse to finish their repast quietly. The populace insulted
the royalists, who put themselves upon the defensive. The patriots, sum-
moned to the aid of the populace, liastened with ardour to the place, and a
battle ensued. It was not long, for the Marseillais, rushing upon their ad-
versaries, put them to flight, killing one, and wounding several others. In
a moment all Paris was in commotion. The federalists paraded the streets,
and tore off the cockades of ribbon, saying that they ought to be made of
woollen.
Some of the fugitives arrived, covered with blood, at the Tuileries, where
they were kindly received, and attentions were paid to them which were
perfectly natural, since they were regarded as friends who had suffered for
their attachment. The national guards on duty at the palace related these
particulars, perhaps added to them, and this furnished occasion for fresh
reports, and fresh animosity against the royal family and the ladies of the
court, who, it was said, had wiped off the perspiration and the blood of the
Avounded. It was even concluded that the scene had been prepared, and
this was the motive for a new accusation against the court.
The national guard of Paris immediately petitioned for the removal of
the Marseillais ; but it was hooted by the tribunes, and its petition proved
unsuccessful.
Amidst these proceedings, a paper attributed to the Prince of Brunswick,
and soon ascertained to be authentic, was circulated. We have already ad-
verted to the mission of Mallet du Pan, He had furnished, in the name of
the King, the idea and model of a manifesto; but this idea was soon dis-
torted. Another manifesto, inspired by the passions of Coblentz, was signed
with the name of Brunswick, and distributed in advance of the Prussian
army. This paper was couched in the following terms :
"Their majesties the Emperor and the King of Prussia having intrusted
me with the command of the combined armies assembled by their orders on
tiie frontiers of France, I am desirous to acquaint the inhabitants of that
kingdom with the motives which have determined the measures of the two
sovereigns, and the intentions by which they are guided.
"After having arbitrarily suppressed the rights and possessions of tlie
German princes in Alsace and Lorraine ; deranged and overthrown good
order and the legitimate government in the interior; committed against the
sacred person of the King and his august family outrages and attacks of
violence which are still continued and renewed from day to day ; those who
have usurped the reins of the administration have at length filled up the
measure by causing an unjust war to be declared against his majesty the
emperor, and attacking his provinces situated in the Netherlands: some of
the possessions of the Germanic empire have been involved in this oppres-
sion, and several others have escaped the same danger solely by yielding to
the imperative menaces of tl\e predominant party and its emissaries.
"His majesty the King of Prussia, united with his imperial majesty by
the bonds of a close and defensive alliance, and himself a preponderating
member of the Germanic body, has therefore not been able to forbear
marching to the aid of his ally and his co-states ; and it is in this twofold
relation that he takes upon himself the defence of that monarch and of
Germany.
" With these great interests an object equally important is joined, and
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 313
which the two sovereigns have deeply at heart; namely, to put an end to
the anarchy in the interior of France, to stop the attacks directed against the
throne and the altar, to re-establish the legal power, to restore to the King
the security and liberty of which he is deprived, and to place him in a con-
dition to exercise the lejritimate authority which is his due.
" Convinced that the sound part of tlie French nation abhors the excesses
of a faction which domineers over it, and that the majority of the inhabitants
await with impatience the moment of succour, to declare themselves openly
against the odious enterprises of their oppressors, his majesty the Emperor,
and his majesty the King; of Prussia, call upon and invite them to return
without delay to the ways of reason and justice, of order and peace.
Agreeably to these views, I, the undersigned, commander-in-chief of the two
armies, declare,
" 1. That the two allied courts, forced into the present war by irresistible
circumstances, propose to themselves no other aim than the happiness of
France, without pretending to enrich themselves by conquests ;
" 2. That they intend not to interfere in the internal government of France,
but are solely desirous to deliver the King, the Queen, and the royal family
from their captivity, and to procure for his most Christian majesty the
safety necessary to enable him to make without danger, without impediment,
such convocations as he shall think proper, and labour to insure the happi-
ness of his subjects, agreeably to his promises and in as far as it shall
depend upon him ;
".'J. That the combined armies will protect the cities, towns, and villages,
and the persons and property of all those who shall submit to the King, and
that they w^ill concur in the instantaneous re-establishment of order and
police throughout France.
" 4. That the national guards are summoned to watch ad interim over the
tranquillity of the towns and of the country, and over the safety of the per-
sons and property of all the French, till the arrival of the troops of their im-
perial and royal majesties, or till it shall be otherwise ordained, upon penalty
of being held personally responsible ; that, on the contrary, such of the
national guards as shall have fought against the troops of the two allied
courts, and who shall be taken in arms, shall be treated as enemies and
punished as rebels to their King, and as disturbers of the public peace ;
" 5. That the generals, officers, subalterns, and soldiers of the French
troops of the line, are in like manner summoned to return to their ancient
fidelity, and to submit fortiiwilh to the King, their legitimate sovereign;
" 6. That the members of the departments, districts, aiul municipalities,
sliall, in like manner, be responsible with their lives and ju-operty for all
misdemeanors, fires, murders, pillage, and acts of violence which tliey shalb
suffer to be committed, or which they shall notoriously not strive to prevent,
in their territory; that thev shall, in like manner, be required to continue
their functions ad interim, till his most Christian majesty, restoreil to full
liberty, shall have made ulterior provisions, or till it shall have been other-
wise ordained in his name, in the mean time ;
"7. That the inhaliitants of the cities, towns, and villages, Avho shall dare
to defend themselves against the troops of their imperial ami royal majesties
and to fire upon them, either in the open field, or from the windows, doors,
and apertures of their houses, shall be instantly punished with ;ill the riironr
of the law of war, and their houses demolished or burned. All the inhabit-
ants, on the contrary, of the said cities, towns, and villages, who shall readily
submit to their King, by opening the gates to the troops of their majesties,
VOL. I.— 40 2 D
314 HISTORY OF THE
shall be from that moment under their immediate safeg'uard. Their persons,
their property, their effects, shall be under the protection of the laws ; and
provision shall be made for the general safety of all and each of them ;
" 8. The city of Paris and all its inhabitants without distinction are re-
quired to submit immediately and without delay to the King, to set that
prince at full and entire liberty, and to insure to him, as well as to all the
royal personages, the inviolabdity and respect which the law of nature and
nations renders obligatory on subjects towards their sovereigns ; their impe-
rial and royal majesties holding personally responsible with their lives for
all that may happen, to be tried militarily, and without hope of pardon, all
the members of the National Assembly, of the department, of the district, of
the municipality, and of the national guard of Paris, the justices of the peace,
and all others whom it shall concern ; their said majesties declaring, more-
over, on their faith and word, as emperor and king, that if the palace of the
Tuileries is forced or insulted, that if the least violence, the least outrage, is
offered to their majesties the King and Queen, and to the royal family, if
immediate provision is not made for their safety, their preservation, and their
liberty, they will take an exemplary and ever-memorable vengeance by giv-
ing up the city of Paris to military execution and total destrucUon, and the
rebels guilty of outrages, to the punishments which they shall have deserved.
Their imperial and royal majesties on the other hand promise the inhabitants
of the city of Paris to employ their good offices with his most Christian
majesty to obtain pardon of their faults and misdeeds, and to take the most
vigorous measures for the security of their persons and property, if they
prompdy and stricdy obey the above injunctions.
" Lastly, their majesties, unable to recognise as laws in France any but
those which shall emanate from the King, enjoying perfect liberty, protest
beforehand against the authenticity of all the declarations which may be
made in the name of his most Christian majesty, so long as his sacred per-
son, that of die Queen, and of the whole royal famUy, sliall not be really in
safety; to the effect of which their imperial and royal majesties invite and
solicit his most Christian majesty to name the city of his kingdom nearest
to its frontiers, to which he shall think fit to retire Avith the Queen and his
famdy, under a good and safe escort, which shall be sent to him for this
purpose, in order that his most Christian majesty may be enabled in com-
plete safety to call around him such ministers and councillors as he shall
please to appoint, make such convocations as shall to him appear fitting,
provide for the re-establishment of good order, and regulate the administra-
tion of his kingdom.
" Finally, I again declare and promise in my own private name, and in
my aforesaid quality, to make the troops placed under my command observe
good and strict discipline, engaging to treat with kindness and moderation
those well-disposed subjects who shall show themselves peaceful and sub-
missive, and not to employ force unless against such as shall be guilty of
resistance or hostility.
" For these reasons, I require and exhort all the inhabitants of the kingdom,
in the strongest and the most earnest manner, not to oppose the march and
the operations of the troops which I command, but rather to grant them
everywhere free entrance and all goodwill, aid, and assistance, that circum-
stances may require.
" Given at the head-quarters at Coblentz, the 25th of July, 1792.
" (Signed) Charles William Ferdinand,
Duke of Brunswick-Luneburg."
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 315
What appeared surprising in this declaration was that, dated on the 25th
of July, at Coblentz, ii should be in Paris on the 28th, and be printed in all
the royalist newspapers. It produced an extraordinary elTect.* Promises
poured in I'rom all quarters to resist an enemy whose language was so liaughty
and whose threats were so terrible. In the existing state of minds, it was
natural that the King and the court should be accused of this new fault.
Louis XVI. lost no time in disavowing tlie manifesto by a message, and he
could no doubt do so with the utmost sincerity, since this paper was so dif-
ferent from the model which he had proposed ; but he must already have
seen, from this example, how far his intentions would be exceeded by his
party, should diat party ever be victorious. Neither his disavowal, nor the
expressions with wiiich it was accompanied, could satisfy the Assembly.
Adverting to the people whose happiness had always been so dear to him,
lie added, " How many sorrows might be dispelled by the slightest mark of
its return to loyalty !"
These impressive words no longer excited the enthusiasm which they had
in times past the gift of producing. They were regarded as tlie language
of deceit, and many of the deputies voted for their being printed, in order,
as they said, to render public the contrast which existed between the words
and the conduct of die King. From that moment, the agitation continued to
increase, and circumstances became more and more aggravated. Intelligence
■was received of a resolution (arrete) by which the department of the Pouches
du Rhone withheld the taxes for tlie purpose of paying the troops which it
had sent against the lorces of Savoy, and cliarged the measures taken by the
Assembly with insufficiency. This was the elFectof the instigations of Bar-
baroux. Tlie resohuion was annulled by the Assembly, but its execution
could not be prevented. It was rumoured, at the same time, that the Sar-
dinians, who were advancing, amounted to lifly thousand. The minister for
foreign affairs was obliged to repair in person to the Assembly, to assure it
that the troops collected did not exceed at the utmost eleven or twelve thou-
sand men. This report was followed by another. It was asserted tliat the
small number of federalists wlio had at that time proceeded to Soissons, had
been poisoned with glass mixed up with the bread. It was even aflirmed
that one hundred and sixty were already dead, and eight hundred ill. In-
quiries were made, and it was ascertained that the flour was kt-j)t in a church,
the windows of which had been broken, and a few bits of glass had been
found in the bread. There was, however, not one person either dead or ill.
On the 25th of .Tuly, a decree had rendered all the sections of Paris per-
manent. They had met and had directed Petion to propose in their name
the dethronement of Louis XVI. On the morning of the 3(1 of August, the
mayor of Paris, embohlened by this commission, appeared before the As-
sembly to present a petition in die name of die forty-eight sections of Paris.
He reviewed the conduct of liouis XVI. ever since the commencement of the
Revolution ; he recapitulated, in tlie language of die time, the benefits con-
ferred by die nation on Uie King, and Uie return which the King had made
for them. He expatiated on the dangers by which all minds were struck,
the arrival of the foreign armies, the total inadequacv of die means of defence,
the revolt of a general against the Assembly, the opposition of a great num-
* " Had this manifesto been courheJ in more moderate Iangua2;e, and followed up by a
rapid and energetic military movement, it mitjiit have had the desired elTect; but coining, as
it did, in a moment of extreme pubhc excitation, and enforced, as it was, by the most feeble
and inerticient military measures, it contributed in a sis^nal manner to accelerate the march
of the Revolution, ahd was the unmediate cause of the downfall of the throne." — Alison. E.
316 HISTORY OF THE
ber of the departmental directories, and the terrible and absurd threats issued
in tlie name of Brunswick. In consequence, he concluded by proposing the
dethronement of the King, and prayed the Assembly to insert that important
question in the order of the day.
This important proposition, which had as yet been made only by clubs,
federalists, and communes, assumed a very different character on being pre-
sented in the name of Paris, and by its mayor. It was received rather with
astonishment than favour in the morning sitting. But in the evenino- the
discussion commenced, and the ardour of one part of the Assembly -was dis-
played without reserve.* Some were for taking up the question forthwith,
others for deferring it. It was, however, adjourned till Thursday, the 9th
of August, and the assembly continued to receive and to read petitions, ex-
pressing, with still greater energy than that of the mayor, the same wish and
the same sentiments.
The section of Alauconseil, more violent than the others, instead of merely
demanding the King's dethronement, pronounced it of its own autliority. It
declared that it no longer acknowledged Louis XVI. as King of the French,
and that it should soon come to ask the legislative body if it at length meant
to save France. Moreover, it exhorted all the sections of the empire — for
it avoided tlie use of the term kingdom — to follow its example.
The Assembly, as we have already seen, did not follow the insurrectional
movement so promptly as the inferior authorities, because, being specially
charged with the maintenance of the laws, it was obliged to pay them more
respect. Thus it found itself frequendy outstripped by the popular bodies,
and saw the power slipping out of its hands. It therefore annulled the reso-
lution of the section of Mauconseil. Vergniaud and Cambon employed the
most severe expressions against that act, which they called a usurpation of
the sovereignty of the people. It appears, however, that it was not so much
the principle as the precipitation which they condemned in this resolution,
and particularly the indecorous language applied in it to the Assembly.
A crisis was now approaching. On the same day a meeting was held of
the insurrectional committee of tlie federalists, and of the King's friends, who
were preparing for his flight. The committee deferred the insurrection till
the day when the dethronement should be discussed, that is, till the evening
of the 9th of August, or the morning of the 10th. The King's friends, on
their part, were deliberating respecting his flight in the garden of M. de
Montmorin. Messrs. de Liancourt and de Lafayette renewed their oflers.
Everything was arranged for departure. Money, however, was wantinsf.
Bertrand de MoUeville had uselessly exhausted the civil list by paying
royalist clubs, spouters in tribunes, speakers to groups, pretended bribers,
who bribed nobody, but put the funds of the court into their own pockets.
The want of money was supplied by loans which generous persons eaoferly
offered to the King. The off'ers of M. de Liancourt have already been men-
tioned. He gave all the gold that he was able to procure. Others furnished
as much as they possessed. Devoted friends prepared to accompany the
carriage that was to convey the royal family, and, if it were necessary, to
perish by its side.
Everything being arranged, the councillors who had met at the house of
INIontmorin decided upon the departure, after a conference which lasted a
• " The question of abdication was discussed with a decree of phrensy. Such of the
deputies as opposed the motion were abused, ill-treated, and surrounded by assassins. They
had a battle to fight at every step they took ; and at length they did not dare to sleep in theif
houses." — Munfjuie. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 317
whole evening. Tlie King, who saw them immediately afterwards, assented
to this resolution, and ordered them to arrange with Messrs. de Montciel and
da Sainte-Croix. AVhatever might be the opinions of those who agreed to
this enterprise, it was a great joy to them to believe for a moment in the ap-
proaching deliverance of the monarch.*
But the next day everything was changed. The King directed this
answer to be given, that he should not leave Paris, because he would not
begin a civil war. All those who, with very dilTerent sentiments, felt an
equal degree of anxiety for him, were thunderstruck. They learned that the
real motive was not that assigned by the King. The real one was, in the
first place, the arrival of Brunswick, announced as very near at hand ; in the
next, the adjournment of the insurrection; and, above all, the refusal of the
Queen to trust the constitutionalists. She had energetically expressed her
aversion, saying that it would be better to perish than to put themselves into
tlie hands of those who had done them so much mischief.t
Thus all the efforts made by the constitutionalists, all the dangers to which
they had exposed themselves, were useless. Lafayette had seriously com-
mitted himself. It was known that he had prevailed on Luckncr to march,
in case of need, to the capital. The latter, summoned before the Assembly,
had confessed everything to the extraordinary committee of twelve. Old
Luckner was weak and fickle. When he passed out of the hands of one
party into those of another, he sulTered the avowal of all that he had heard
or said on the preceding day to be wrung from him, and afterwards alleged,
in excuse of these confessions, that he was unacquainted with the French
language, wept, and complained that he was surrounded by factious persons
• The following paper is one of those quoted by M. de Lally-Tollendal in his letter to the
King of Prussia :
Copy of the Minute of a sitting held oji the ith of August, 1792, in the handwriting of
Lally- Tullendal.
August 4.
M. dc Montmorin, late minister of foreign affairs — M. Bertrand, late minister of the ma-
rine — M. de Clermont-Tonnerre — M. de Lally-Toliendal — M. Malouet — M. de Gouvernet —
M. de Gilliers.
Three hours' deliberation in a sequestered spot in M. de Montmorin's garden. Each
reported what he had discovered. I had received an anonymous letter, in which the writer
informed me of a conversation at Santerre's, announcing the plan of marching to the Tuile-
ries, killing the King in the fray, and seizing the prince-royal, to do with him whatever cir-
cumstances should require; or, if the King was not killed, to make all the royal family pri-
soners. We all resolved that the King should leave Paris, at whatever risk, escorted by the
Swiss, and by ourselves and our friends, who were pretty numerous. We reckoned upon M.
de Liancourl, who had otltjred to come to Rouen to meet the King, and also upon M. de
Lafayette. As we were finishing our deliberations, M. de Malesherbes arrived ; he came to
urge Madame de Montmorin and her daughter, Madame de Beaumont, to depart, saying that
the crisis was at hand, and that Paris was no longer a fit place for women. In consequence
of the news brought us by M. de Malesherbes, we agreed that M. de Montmorin should go
immediately to the palace to inform the King of what we had learned and resolved, 'i'he King
seemed to assent in the evening, and told M. de Montmorin to confer with M. de Sainte-Croix,
who, with M. de Montciel, was also engaged in devising a plan for the King's departuie. We
went next day to the palace ; I had a long conversation with the Duke de Choiseuil. who was
entirely of our opinion, and anxious that the King should depart at any risk whatever, as he
would rather expose himself to every danger than cmnmence a civil war. ^\'e were informed
that the deposition would be pronounced on the Thursday following. I knew of no other
resource than the army of M. de Lafayette. I sent off on the 8th the rough draught of a letter,
which I advised him to write to the Duke of Brunswick, as soon as he should receive the
first news of the defjosition, &c.
j^ See Memoirs de Madame Campan, tome ii., p. 125.
2 d2
31S HISTORY OF THE
only. Guadet had the address to draw from him a confession of Lafayette's
proposals, and Bureau de Puzy, accused of having been the inlcrniediate
agent, was summoned to the bar. He was one of the friends and officers
of Lafayette. He denied everything with assurance, and in a tone whicii
persuaded the committee that the negotiations of his general were unknown
to him. The question whether Lafayette should be placed under accusation
was adjourned.
The day fixed for the discussion of the dethronement approached. The
plan of the insurrection was settled and known. The Marseillais, whose
barracks were at the farthest extremity of Paris, had repaired to the section
of the Cordeliers, where the club of that name was held. They were in the
heart of Paris and close to the scene of action. Two municipal oliicers had
had the boldness to order cartridges to l)e distributed among the conspirators.
Li short, everything was ready for the 10th.
On the 8th, the question concerning LaHiyette was discussed. It was
decided by a strong majority that there was not sufficient ground for an ac-
cusation. Some of the deputies, irritated at this acquittal, insisted on a
division ; and, on this new trial, four hundred and forty-six members had
the courage to vote in favour of the general against two hundred and eighty.
The people, roused by this intelligence, collected about the door of the hall,
insulted the deputies as they went out, and particularly maltreated those who
were known to belong to the right side of the Assembly, such as Vaublanc,
Girardin, Dumas, &;c. From all quarters abuse was poured forth against
the national representation, and the people loudly declared that tliere was no
longer any safety with an Assembly which could absolve the traitor Lafayette. *
On the following day, August 9th, an extraordinary agitation prevailed
among the deputies. Those who had been insulted the day before com-
plained personally or by letter. When it was stated that M. Beaucaron had
narrowly escaped being hanged, a t)arbarous peal of laughter burst from the
tribunes; and when it was added that M. de Girardin had been struck, even
those who knew how and where, ironically put the question to him.
"What!" nobly replied M. de Girardin, " know you not that cowards never
strike but behind one's back ?" At .length a member called for the order of
the day. The Assembly, however, decided that R(jederer, the procureur
syndic of the commune,t should be summoned to the bar, and enjoined, upon
his personal responsibility, to provide for the safety and the inviolability of
the members of the Assembly.
It was proposed to send for the mayor of Paris, and to oblige him to de-
clare, yes or no, whether he could answer for the public tranquillity. Guadet
answered this proposition by another for summoning the King also, and
obliirins him in his turn to declare, yes or no, whether he could answer for
the safety and inviolability of the territory.
Amidst these contrary suggestions, however, it was easy to perceive that
the Assembly dreaded the decisive moment, and that the Girondins them-
* " Lafayette was burnt in effigy by the Jacobins, in the gardens of the Tuileries." —
Prudhomiiie. E.
■j- " P. L. RoeJerer, deputy from the (iers-elaf of the bailiwick of Metz, embraced the cause
of the Revolution. On the 10th of August, he interested himself in the fate of the King,
gave some orders for his safety ; and at last advised him to repair to the Assembly, which
completed the ruin of Louis, and compromised Rcederer. Having survived the Reign of
Terror, he devoted hiiiiself to editing the Journal of Paris; and in conjunction with Volney,
Talleyrand, and others, helped to bring on the Revolution of the 18th Brumaire, 1791^. He
was an able journalist, temperate in his principles, and concise and vigorous in his style." —
Biographic Muderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 319
selves would rather have liroiij^ht ahout the dethronement liy a deliheration,
than recur to a doubtful and murderous attack. During tliese proceedings
Rosderer arrived, and stated that one section had determined to ring the
tocsin, and to march upon the Assembly and the Tuileries, if t!ie dethrone-
ment were not pronounced. Petion entered, in his turn. He did not speak
out in a positive manner, but admitted the existence of sinister projects. He
enumerated the precautions taken to prevent the threatened commotions, and
promised to confer with tlie department, and to adopt its measures, if they
appeared to Itim better tlian those of the municipality.
Petion, as well as all his Girondin friends, preferred a declaration of de-
thronement by the Assemldy to an uncertain combat with the pahice. Being
almost sure of a majority for tlie delhronement, he would fain have put a
stop to the plans of the insurrectional committee. He repaired, therefore,
to the committee oi surveillance of the Jacobins, and begged Chabot to sus-
pend the insurrection, telling him that the Girondins had resolved upon the
dedironement and the immediate convocation of a national convention ; that
they were sure of a majority, and that it was wrong to run tlie risk of an
attack, the result of which was doubtful. Cliabot replied that nothing was
to be hoped for from an asseml)ly which had absolved the scuiindnl La-
fayette ; that he, Petion, allowed himself to be deceived by his friends ; that
the people had at length resolved to save themselves ; and that the tocsin
would be rung that very evening in the fauxhourgs. " Will you always be
wrong-headed, then?" replied Petion. " Wo betide us if there is a rising!
. . . I know your influence, but I have influence too, and will employ it
against you." — "You shall be arrested and prevented from acting," re-
joined Chabot.
People's minds were in fact too highly excited for the fears of Petion to
be understood, and for him to be able to exercise his influence. A general
agitation pervaded Paris. I'he drum beat the call in all quarters. The
battalions of the national guard assembled, and repaired to their posts, with
very discordant dispositions. The sections were filled, not with the greater
number, but with the most ardent of the citizens. The insurrectional com-
mittee had formed at three points. Fournier and some others were in the
fauxbourg St. Marceau ; Santerre and Westermann occupied the fauxbourg
St. Antoine ; lastly, Danton, Camille Des-Moulins, and Carra, were at the
Cordeliers with the Marseilles battalion. Barbaroux, after stationing scouts
at the Assembly and the palace, had provided couriers ready to start for the
South. He had also provided himself with a dose of poison, such was the
uncertainty of success, and awaited at the Cordeliers the result of the insur-
rection. It is not known where Robespierre was. Danton liad concealed
Marat in a cellar belonging to the section, and had then taken possession of
the tribune of the Cordeliers. Every one hesitated, as on tlie eve of a great
resolution ; but Danton, w'\{\\ a daring proportionate to the importance of the
event, raised his thundering voice. He enumerated what he called the
crimes of the court. He expatiated on the haired of the latter to the consti-
tution, its deceitful language, its hypocritical promises, always belied by its
conduct, and lasdy, its evident machinations for bringing in foreigners.
"The people," said he, " can now have recourse but to themselves, for the
constitution is insufllcient, and the Assemblv has absolved I^afayette. You
liave, therefore, none lilt uj save you but yourselves. liose no time, then ;
for, this very night, satellites concealed in the palace are to sally forth upon
the people and tf^slaughter tliem, before they leave Paris to repair to Co-
blentz. Save yourselves, then ! To arms ! to arms!"
320 HISTORY OF THE
At this moment a musket was fired in the Cour du Commerce. The cry
To arms! soon became general, and the insurrection was proclaimed. It
was then half-past eleven. The Marseillais formed before the door of the
Cordeliers, seized some pieces of cannon, and were soon reinforced by a
numerous concourse, which ranged itself by their side. Camille Desmoulins
and others ran out to order tlie tocsin to be rung; but they did not find the
same ardour in the difierent sections. They strove to rouse their zeal. The
sections soon assembled and appointed commissioners to repair to the Hotel
de Ville, for the purpose of superseding the municipality and taking all the
authority into their own hands. Lastly, they ran to the bells, made them-
selves master of them by main force, and the tocsin began to ring. This
dismal sound pervaded the whole extent of the capital. It was wafted from
street to street, from building to building. It called the deputies, the magis-
trates, the citizens, to their posts. At length it reached the palace, proclaim-
ing that the terrible night was come ; that fatal night, that night of agitation
and blood, destined to be the last which the monarch should pass in the
palace of his ancestors !*
Emissaries of the court came to apprize it that the moment of the catas-
trophe was at hand. They reported the expression used by the President
of the Cordeliers, who had told his people that this was not to be, as on
the 20th of June, a mere civic promenade ; meaning that, if the 20th of June
had been the threat, the 10th of August was the decisive stroke. On that
point, in fact, there was no longer room for doubt. The King, the Queen,
their two children, and their sister, Madame Elizabeth, had not retired to
bed, but had gone after supper into the council-chamber, where all the mi-
nisters and a great number of superior officers were deliberating, in dismay,
on the means of saving the I'oyal family. The means of resistance were
feeble and had been almost annihilated, either by decrees of the Assembly,
or by the false measures of the court itself.
The constitutional guard, dissolved by a decree of the Assembly, had not
been replaced by the King, who had chosen rather to continue its pay to it
than to form a new one. The force of tlie palace was thus diminished by
eighteen hundred men.
The regiments whose disposition had appeared favourable to the King at
the time of the last Federation had been removed from Paris by the accus-
tomed expedient of decrees.
The Swiss could not be removed, owing to their capitulations, but their
artillery had been taken from them ; and the court, when it had, for a mo-
ment, decided upon flight to Normandy, had sent thithej one of those faithful
battalions, upon pretext of guarding supplies of corn that were expected.
This battalion had not yet been recalled. Some Swiss only, in barracks at
Courbevoie, had been authorized by Petion to come back, and they amounted
altogether to no more than eight or nine hundred men.
The gendarmerie had recently been composed of the old soldiers of the
French guards, the autliors of the 14th of July.
Lastly, the national guard had neither the same officers, nor the same
• "At mulnight a cannon was fired, the tocsin sounded, and the generale beat to arms in
every quarter of Paris. The survivors of the bloody catastrophe, which was about to com-
mence, have portrayed in the strongest colours the horrors of that awful night, when the
oldest monarchy in Europe tottered to its fall. The incessant clang of the tocsin, the roll of
the drums, the rattling of artillery and ammunition-wagons along the streets, the cries of the
insurgents, the march of the columns, rung in their ears for long after, even in the moments
of festivity and rejoicing." — Alison. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 321
organization, nor the same attachment, as on the 6lh of October, 1789.
The statr, as we have seen, had been reconstituted. A great number of
citizens had become disgusted with the service, and those who had not
deserted their post were intimidated by the fury of the populace. Thus the
national gtiard was, like all the bodies of the state, composed of a new revo-
lutionary generation. It was divided, with the whole of France, into con-
stitutionalists and republicans. The whole battalion of the Filles St.
Thomas, and part of that of tlie Petits Peres, were attached to the King.
The others were either indifferent or hostile. The gunners, in particular,
who composed the principal strength, were decided republicans. The
fatigues incident to the duty of the latter had deterred the wealthy citizens
from undertaking it. Locksmiths and blacksmiths were thus left in posses-
sion of the guns, and almost all of them, belonging to the populace, partook
of its dispositions.
Thus the King had left him about eight or nine hundred Swiss, and rather
more than one battalion of the national guard.
It will be recollected that the command of the national guard, after La-
fayette's removal, had been transferred to six commanders of legions in
rotation. It had fallen, on that day, to the commandant Mandat, an old
officer, displeasing to tlie court for his constitutional opinions, but possessing
its entire confidence, from his firmness, his intelligence, and his attachment
to his duties. Mandat, general-in-chief on that fatal night, had hastily made
the only possible dispositions.
The floor of the great gallery leading from the Louvre to the Tuileries
had already been cut away for a certain space, to prevent the passage of the
assailants. Mandat, in consequence, took no precautions for protecting that
wing, but directed his attention to the side next to the courts and the garden.
Notwithstanding the signal by drum, few of the national guards had assem-
bled. Tlie battalions remained incomplete. The most zealous of them
proceeded singly to the palace, where Mandat had formed them into regi-
ments and posted them conjointly with the Swiss, in the courts, the garden,
and the apartments. He had placed one piece of cannon in the court of the
Swiss, three in the central court, and three in that of the princes.
These guns were unfortunately consigned to gunners of the national guard,
so that the enemy was actually in the fortress. But the Swiss, full of zeal
and loyalty, watched them narrowly, ready at the first movement to make
themselves masters of their guns, and to drive them out of the precincts of
the palace.
Alandat had moreover placed some advanced posts of gendarmerie at the
colonnade of the Louvre and the Hotel de Ville ; but this gendarmerie, as
we have already shown, was composed of old French guards.
To these defenders of the palace must be added a great number of old
servants, whose age or whose moderation had prevented them from emi-
grating, and who, in the moment of danger, had come forward, some to
absolve themselves for not having gone to Coblentz, others to die generously
by ihe side of their prince. They had hastily provided themselves with all
the weapons that they could procure in the palace. They were armed with
swords, and pistols fastened to tlieir waists by pocket-handkerchiefs. Some
had even taken tongs and shovels from the fire-places.* Thus there was no
* "M. de St. Souplet, one of the King's equerries, and a page, instead of muskets, carried
upon their shoulde<^s the tongs belonging to the King's antechamber, which they had broken,
and divided between them." — Madame Campan. E.
VOL. I. — 41
322 HISTORY OF THE
want of jokes at this awful moment, when the court oiig'ht to have been
serious at least for once. This concourse of useless persons, instead of ren-
dering it any service, merely obstructed the national guard, whicli could not
reckon upon it, and tended only to increase the confusion, which was already
too great.
All the members of the departmental directory had repaired to the palace.
The virtuous Duke de Larochefoucauld was there. Rccderer, the procureur
syndic, Avas there, too. Petion was sent ior, and he repaired thither with
two municipal officers. Petion was urged to sign an order for repelling force
by force, and he did sign it, that he might not appear to be an accomplice
of tlie insurgents. Considerable joy was felt in having him at the palace,
and in holding, in his person, an hostage so dear to the people. The As-
sembly, apprized of this intention, summoned him to the bar by a decree.
The King, who was advised to detain him, refused to do so, and he therefore
left the Tuileries without impediment.
The order to repel force by force once obtained, various opinions were
expressed relative to the manner of using it. In this state of excitement,
more than one silly project must necessarily have presented itself. There
was one sufficiently bold, and which might probably have succeeded; this
was to prevent the attack by dispersing the insurgents, who were not yet
very numerous, and who, with the Marseillais, formed at most a few thou-
sand men. At this moment, in fact, the fauxbourg St. Marceau was not yet
formed ; Santerre hesitated in the fauxbourg St. Antoine ; Danton alone, and
the Marseillais had ventured to form at the Cordeliers, and they were waiting
with impatience at the Pont St. Michel for the arrival of the other assailants.
A vigorous sally might have dispersed them, and, at this moment of hesi-
tation, a movement of terror Avould infallibly have prevented the insurrection.
Another course, more safe and legal, was that proposed by Mandat, namely,
to await the march of the fauxbourgs ; but, as soon as they should be in
motion, to attack them at two decisive points. He suggested, in the first
place, that when one party of them should debouch upon tlie Place of the
Hotel de Ville, by the arcade of St. .Jean, they should be suddenly charged ;
and that, at the Louvre, those who should come by the Pont Neuf, along the
quay of the Tuileries, should be served in the same manner. He had actu-
ally ordered tlie gendarmerie posted at the colonnade to suffer the insurgents
to tile past, then to charge them in the rear, while the gendarmerie, stationed
at the Carrousel, were to pour through the wickets of the Louvre, and
attack them in front. The success of such plans was almost certain. The
necessary orders had already been given by Mandat to the commandants of
the different posts, and especially to that of the Hotel de Ville.
We have already seen that a new municipality had just been formed there.
Among the members of the former, Danton and Manuel only were retained.
The order was shown to this insurrectional municipality. It immediately
summoned the commandant to appear at the Hotel de Ville. The summons
was carried to the palace. Mandat hesitated ; but those about him and the
members of the department themselves, not knowing what had liappened,
and not deeming it right yet to infringe the law by refusing to appear, ex-
horted him to comply. Mandat then decided. He put into the hands of
his son, who was with him at the palace, tlie order signed by Petion to repel
force by force, and obeyed the summons of the municipality. It was about
four o'clock in the morning. On reaching the Hotel de Ville, he was sur-
prised to find there a new authority. He was instantly surrounded and
questioned concerning the order which he had issued. He was then dis-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 323
missed, and in dismissing him the president made a sign which was equiva-
lent to sentence of death. No sooner liad the unibrtunate commandant
retired than he was seized and shot with a pistol. The murderers stripped
him of his clothes, without finding about him the order, which lie had de-
livered to his son, and his body was thrown into the river, whither it was
soon to be followed by so many others.
This sanguinary deed paralyzed all the means of defence of the palace,
destroyed all unity, and prevented the execution of the plan of defence. All
however, was not yet lost, and the insurrection was not completely formed.
The Marseillais had impatiently waited for the fauxbourg St. Antoine, which
did not arrive, and for a moment they concluded that tlie plan liad miscarried.
But Westermann had pointed his sword to the body of Santerre, and forced
him to march. The fauxbourgs had then successively arrived, some by the
Rue St. Honore, others by the Pont Neuf, the Pont Royal, and die wickets
of tlie Louvre. The Marseillais marched at the head of the columns, witli
the Breton federalists, and they had pointed their pieces towards tlie palace.
The great number of the insurgents, which increased every moment, was
joined by a multitude attracted by curiosity ; and thus the enemy appeared
stronger than they really were. While they were proceeding to the palace,
Santerre had hurried to the Hotel de Ville, to get himself appointed com-
mander-in-chief of the national guard, and Westermann had remained on
the field of batde to direct the assailants. Everything was therefore in the
utmost confusion, so much so, that Petion, who, according to tlie precon-
certed plan, was to have been kept at home by an insurrectional force, was
still waiting for the guard that was to screen his responsibility by an appa-
rent constraint. He sent, himself^ to the Hotel de Ville, and at last a
few hundred men were placed at his door that he might seem to be in a state
of arrest.
The palace was at this moment absolutely besieged. The assailants
were in the place ; and by the dawning light they were seen through the
old doors of the courts and from the windows. Their artillery was disco-
vered pointed at the palace, and their confused shouts and threatening songs
were heard. The plan of anticipating tliem had been anew proposed ; but
tidings of Mandat's death had just been received, and the opinion of the
ministers, as well as of the department, was, that it was best to await the
attack and suffer themselves to be forced within the limits of the law.
Rnederer had just gone through the ranks of this little garrison, to read to
the Swiss and the national guards the legal proclamation, \vhich forbade
them to attack, but enjoined them to repel force by force. The King was
solicited to review in person tlie servants who were preparing to defend him.
The unfortunate prince had passed the night in listening to the conflicting
opinions that were expressed around him; and, (hirins'tlic only moments of
relaxation, he had prayed to Heaven lor his royal consort, his children, and
his sister, the objects of all his fears. "Sire," said the Queen to him with
energy, " it is time to show yourself." It is even asserted that, snatching
a pistol from the belt of old d'Affry, she presented it angrily at the King.
The eyes of the princess were inflamed with weeping; but her brow
appeared lofty, her nostrils dilated, with indignation and pride.*
*" The behaviour of Marie Antoinette, was magnanimous in the highest dcpree. Her
majestic air, her Austrian lip, and aquiline nose, gave her an air of dignity which can only
be conceived by thf^se who beheld her in that trying hour." — I'dtlcr. E.
" The King ought then to have put himself at the head of his troops, "and opposed his
\
324 HISTORY OF THE
As for the King, he feared nothing for his own person ; nay, he mani-
fested great coohiess in this extreme peril ; but he was alarmed for his
family, and sorrow at seeing it thus exposed had altered his looks. He
nevertheless went forward with firmness. He had on a purple suit of
clothes, wore a sword, and his hair, which had not been dressed since the
preceding day, was partly in disorder. On stepping out on the balcony, he
perceived without agitation many pieces of artillery pointed against the
palace. His presence still excited some remains of enthusiasm. The caps
of the grenadiers were all at once uplifted on the points of swords and bayo-
nets ; the old cry of '■'Vive le BoiJ" rang for the last time beneath the
vaults of the paternal palace. A last spark of courage was rekindled.
Dejected hearts were cheered. For a moment there was a gleam of confi-
enemies. The Queen was of this opinion, and the courageous counsel she gave on this
occasion does honour to her memory." — Madame de Stael. E.
" This invasion of the 10th of August was another of those striking occasions, on which
the King, by suddenly changing his character and assuming firmness, might have recovered
his throne. Had he ordered the clubs of the Jacobins and Cordeliers to be shut up, dissolved
the Assembly, and seized on the factions, that day had restored his authority. But this
weak prince chose rather to expose himself to certain death, than give orders for his
defence." — Duuiont. E.
"Marie Antoinette Josephe Jeanne Antoinette, of Lorraine, Archduchess of Austria, and
Queen of France, born at Vienna in the year 17.55, was daughter of the Emperor Francis I.
and of Maria Theresa. She received a careful education, and nature had bestowed on her
an uncommon share of grace and beauty. Her marriage with the dauphin (afterwards
Louis XVI.) at Versailles, in 1770, had all the appearance of a triumph. It was subse-
quently remarked that immediately after the ceremony, a fearful thunder-storm, such as had
scarcely ever before been witnessed, took place at Versailles. Anxious minds indulged in
yet more more fearful forebodings, when, at the festivity which the city of Paris prepared in
celebration of the royal nuptials, through the want of judicious arrangements, a great number
of people in the Rue Roy ale were trodden down in the crowd. Fifty-three persons were
found dead, and about three hundred dangerously wounded. In 1788, Marie Antoinette
drew upon herself the hatred of the court party, who used every means to make her odious
to the nation. Her lively imagination often gave her the appearance of levity, and some-
times of intrigue and dissimulation. A national restlessness, too, led her on a constant search
after novelty, which involved her in heavy expenses. It was still more to her disadvantage
that she injured her dignity by neglecting the strict formality of court manners. About this
time her enemies spread a report about that she was still an Austrian at heart, and an extra-
ordinary occurrence added fuel to the flame of calumny, and subjected the Queen to a dis-
graceful law-suit. Two jewellers demanded the payment of an immense price for a neck-
lace, which had been purchased in the name of the Queen. In the examination, which she
demanded, it was proved that she had never authorized the purchase. A lady of her size and
complexion had impudently passed herself off for the Queen, and, at midnight had a meeting
with a cardinal in the park of Versailles. Notwithstanding, her enemies succeeded in throw-
ing a dark shade over her conduct. When Louis XVI. informed her of his condemnatioa
lo death, she congratulated him on the approaching termination of an existence so painful.
After his execution, she asked nothing of the Convention but a mourning dress, which she
wore for the remainder of her days. Her behaviour during the whole term of her imprison-
ment was exemplary in the highest degree. On the 3d of October, 1793, she was brought
before the revolutionary tribunal, and replied to all the questions of her judges satisfactorily,
and with decision. When Hebert accused her of having seduced her own son, she answered,
with a noble burst of indignation, 'I appeal to every mother here whether such a crime be
possible !' She heard her sentence with perfect calmness, and the next day ascended the
scailold. The beauty for which she was once so celebrated was gone; grief had distorted
her features, and in the damp, unhealthy prison, she had almost lost one of her eyes. When
she reached the place of execution, she cast back one fond, lingering look at the Tuileries,
and then mounted the scaffold. When she came to the top, she flung herself on her knees,
and exclaimed, ' Farewell, my dear children, for ever — I go to your father !' Thus died the
Queen of France, October 16, 1794, towards the close of the thirty-eighth year of her age."
— Encyclopedia Americana. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 325
(lence and hope, but at that instant some fresh battalions of the national
guard arrived, which had been formed later than the others, and came
agreeably to the order previously issued by Mandat. They entered at the
moment when the cries of " Vive le Eoir'' rang in the court. Some joined
those who thus hailed the presence of the monarch ; others, holding differ-
ent sentiments, fancied themselves in danger, and, calling to mind all the
popular fables that had been circulated, imagined that they were about to be
given up to the knights of the dagger. They immediately cried out that
they were betrayed by that villain Mandat, and raised a kind of tumult.
The gunners, following their example, turned their pieces against the front
of the palace. A quarrel instanUy ensued with the loyal battalions. The
gunners were disarmed and consigned to a detachment, and the new comers
were despatched towards the gardens.
At this moment, the King, after shewing liimself in the balcony, went
down stairs to review the troops in tJie courts. His coming having been
announced, every one had resumed his place in the ranks. He walked
through them with a tranquil countenance, and cast upon them expressive
looks which penetrated all hearts. Addressing the soldiers, he said, with a
firm voice, that he was touched by their attachment, that he should be by
their side, and that, in defending him, they were defending their wives and
their children. He then proceeded through the vestibule, with the intention
of going to the garden, but at that moment he heard shouts of " Down with
the Veto!'''' raised by one of the battalions which had just entered. Two
officers who were at his side, were then anxious to prevent him from con-
tinuing the review in the garden, others begged him to go and inspect the
post at the Pont Tournant. He courageously complied. But he was
obliged to pass along the Terrace of the Feuiilans, which was crowded with
people. During this walk, he was separated from the furious multitude,
merely by a tricoloured ribbon. He nevertheless advanced, in spite of all
sorts of insults and abuse ;* he even saw the battalions file off before his
face, traverse the garden, and leave it with the intention of joining the
assailants in the Place du Carrousel.
This desertion, that of the gunners, and the shouts of " Down with the
Veto r'' had extinguished all hope in the King. At the same moment, the
gendarmes, assembled at the colonnade of the Louvre and other places, had
either dispersed or joined the populace. The national guard, which occu-
pied the apartments, and which could, it was conceived, be relied upon, was
on its part dissatisfied at being with tlie gentlemen, and appeared to distrust
them. The Queen strove to encourage it. " Grenadiers," cried she, point-
ing to those gentlemen, " these are your comrades ; they are come to die by
your side." In spite, however, of this apparent courage, her soul was over-
whelmed with despair. The review had ruined every thing, and she
lamented that the King had shown no energy. That unfortunate prince, we
cannot forbear repeating, feared nothing for himself. He had, in fact,
refused to wear a buckler, as on the 14 th of July, saying that on the day
of battle it behoved him to be uncovered, like the meanest of his servants.t
" • I was at a window looking on the garden. I saw some of the gunners quit their posts,
go up the King, and thrust their fists in his face, insulting him in the most brutal language.
He was as pale as a corpse. When the royal family came in again, the Queen told me that
all was lost ; that the King had shown no energy ; and that this sort of review had done
more harm than good," — Mudame Campan. E.
f " The Queen t^ld me that the King had just refused to put on the under-waistcoat of
mail which she had prepared for him; that he had consented to wear it on the 14th of July,
2 E
326 HISTORY OF THE
He was not, therefore, deficient in courage, and he afterwards displayed a
tru'y noble and elevated courage ; but he lacked the boldness requisite for
offensive operations. He lacked also consistency, and ought not, for ex-
ample, to have dreaded the eifusion of blood, when he consented to the
invasion of France by foreigners. It is certain, as has frequently been
observed, that, had he mounted a horse and charged at the head of his
adherents, the insurrection would have been quelled.
At this moment, the members of the department, seeing the general con-
fusion in the palace, and despairing of the success of resistance, went to the
King and besouglu him to retire into the bosom of the Assembly. This
advice, so frequently calumniated, like all that is given to kings, when not
successful, recommended the only suitable coarse at the moment. By
this retreat, all bloodslied was likely to be prevented, and the royal family
preserved from a death that was almost certain if the palace should be taken
by storm. In the existing state of things, the success of the assault was not
doubtful, and, had it been, the very doubt was sufficient to make one avoid
exposing oneself to it.
The Queen vehemently, opposed this plan.* "Madame," said Roederer,
" you endanger the lives of your husband and children. Think of the
responsibility which you take upon yourself." The altercation grew very
warm. At length the King decided to retire to the Assembly. " Let us
go," said he, with a resigned look, to his family and to those around him.
" Sir," said the Queen to Rtederer, " you answer for the lives of the King
and of my children." — " Madam," replied the procureur syndic, "I answer
for it that I will die by their side, but I promise nothing more."
They then set out, to proceed to the Assembly by the garden, tlie Terrace
of the Feuillans and the court of the Riding-liouse. All the gentlemen and
servants rushed forward to follow the King, though it was possible that they
might compromise him by irritating the populace and exciting the ill-will
of the Assembly by their presence. Rcederer strove in vain to stop them,
and loudly declared that they would cause the royal family to be murdered.
He at length succeeded in keeping back a great number, and the royal parly
set out. A detachment of Swiss and of the national guard accompanied the
royal family. A deputation of the Assembly came to receive and to conduct
it into its bosom. At this moment, the concourse was so great that the
crowd was impenetrable. A tall grenadier took hold of the dauphin, and,
lifting him up in his arms, forced his way through the mob, holding him
over his head. The Queen, at this sight, conceived that her child was
going to be taken from her and gave a shriek ; but she was soon set right ;
for the grenadier entered, and placed the royal infant on the bureau of the
Assembly.
The King and his family then entered, followed by two ministers. "I
come," said Louis XVI., "to prevent a great crime, and I think, gentlemen,
that I cannot be safer than in the midst of you."
because he was merely going to a ceremony, where the blade of an assassin was to be appre-
hended ; but that on a day on which his party might have to fight against the revolutionists,
he thought there was something cowardly in preserving his life by such means," — Madame
Campari. E.
* "The Queen felt at once all the dishonour of throwing themselves as suppliants on the
protection of a body which had not shown even a shadow of interest in their favour. Ere
she consented to such infamy, she said she would willingly be nailed to the walls of the
palace. She accompanied, however, her huslmnd, his sister, and his children, and on her
way to the Assembly, was robbed of her watch and purse." — Scott's Life of Napoleon. £.
FRENCH REVOLUTION". 327
Vergniaud, who presided, replied to the monarch that he might rely on
the firmness of the National Assembly, and that its members had sworn to
die in defence of the constituted authorities.
The King seated himself beside the president ; but on the observation of
Chabot, tliat his presence might affect the freedom of deliberation, he was
placed in the box of the writer appointed to report the proceedings. 'I'he
iron railing was removed, that, in case a forcible entry should be made into
the box, he might with liis family take shelter without impediment in the
Assembly. In this operation the prince assisted with his own hands. The
railing was pulled down, and thus insults and threats could the more freely
reach the dethroned monarch in his last asylum.*
Rcederer then gave an account of what had happened. He described the
fury of the multitude, and the danger which threatened the palace, the courts
of which were already in the possession of the mob. The Assembly ordered
twenty of its commissioners to go and pacify the populace. The commis-
sioners departed. A discharge of cannon was all at once heard. Conster-
nation pervaded the hall. " I assure you," said the King, " that I have
ordered the Swiss to be forbidden to fire." But the report of cannon was
again heard, mingled with the sound of musketry. The agitation was at its
height. Intelligence was soon brought that the commissioners deputed by
the Assembly had been dispersed. At the same inoment, the door of the
hall was attacked, and rang with tremendous blows. Armed citizens ap-
peared at one of the entrances. " We are stormed !" exclaimed a municipal
officer. The president put on his hat ; and a multitude of deputies rushed
from their seats to keep back the assailants. At length tlie tumult was ap-
peased, and, amidst the uninterrupted reports of the musketry and cannon,
the deputies shouted, " The nation, liberty, equality for ever !"
At this moment, in fact, a most sanguinary combat was raging at the
palace. The King having left it, it was naturally supposed that the people
would not persist in their attack on a forsaken dwelling; besides, the general
agitation had prevented any attention from bein^ paid to the subject, and no
order had been issued for its evacuation. All the troops tliat were in the
courts had merely been withdrawn into the interior of the palace, and they
were confusedly mingled in the apartments with the domestics, the gentle-
men, and the officers. The crowd at the palace was immense, and it was
scarcely possible to move there, notwithstanding its vast extent.
The rabble, probably ignorant of the King's departure, after waiting a
consiilerable time before the principal wicket, at lengtli attacked the gate,
broke it open with hatchets, and rushed into the Royal Court. They then
formed in column, and turned against the palace the guns imprudently left
in the court after the troops had been withdrawn. The assailants, however,
yet forebore to attack. They made amicable demonstrations to the soldiers
at the windows. " Give up the palace to us," said they, " and we are
friends." The Swiss professed pacific intentions, and threw cartrid'^es out
of the windows. Some of the boldest of the besiegers, venturing lieyond
the colunms, advanced beneath the vestibule of the palace. At the foot of
the staircase had been placed a piece of timber in the form of a barrier, and
behind it were intrenched, pell-mell, some Swiss and national guards. Those
• " An ordinary workman of the suburbs, in a ilress whic-h impliod abject poverty, made
his way into the jialace where the royal family were seated, dematidinj the King by the
name of Monsieur Veto. ' So you are here,' he said, ' beast of a Veto I There is a purse
of gold I found JN^yoiir house yonder; if you had found mine, you would not have been so
honest.' " — Barbaruux's Memoirs. — Lacrelelle denies the truth of this anecdote. E.
328 HISTORY OF THE
who from the outside had pushed in thus far, resolved to advance still farther
and to gain possession of the barrier. After a struggle of considerable length,
which, however, did not end in a battle, the barrier was taken. The assail-
ants then forced their way up the staircase, repeating that the palace must
be given up to them.
It is asserted that, at this moment, men armed with pikes, who had
remained in tlie court, caught hold with hooks the Swiss sentries stationed
outside, and murdered them. It is added that a musket-shot was fired at a
window, and that the Swiss, enraged at it, replied by a volley. A tremen-
dous discharge immediately pealed in the palace, and those who had pene-
trated into it lied, crying that they were betrayed. It is difficult to ascertain,
amidst this confusion, by which side the first shots Avere fired. The
assailants have alleged that they advanced amicably, and that, when they
had once entered the palace, they were treacherously surprised and fired
upon. It is very improbable, for the Swiss were not in a situation to provoke
a conflict. As, after the King's departure, it was no longer their duty to
fight, they must naturally have thought only of saving themselves, and
treachery was not the way to do that. Besides, if even aggression could
change anything in the moral character of these events, it must be admitted
that the first and real aggression, that is, the attack of the palace, proceeded
from the insurgents. The rest was but an inevitable accident, to be imputed
to chance alone.
Be this as it may, those who had succeeded in forcing their way into the
vestibule and upon the great staircase suddenly heard the discharge, and,
whilst retreating, and upon the staircase itself, they received a shower of
balls. The Swiss then descended in good order, and, on reaching the last
steps, debouched by the vestibule into the Royal Court. There they made
themselves masters of one of the pieces of cannon which Avere in the court ;
and, in spite of a terrible fire, turned and discharged it at the Marseillais,
killing a great number of them. The Marseillais then fell back, and, the
fire continuing, they abandoned the court. Terror instantly seized the
populace, who fled on all sides, and regained the fauxbourgs. If the Swiss
had at this moment followed up their advantage ; if the gendarmes stationed
at the Louvre, instead of deserting their post, had charged the repulsed
besiegers, the business would have been decided, and victory would have
belonged to the palace.
But at this moment the King's order arrived, sent througli M. d'Hervilly,
forbidding the Swiss to fire. M. d'Hervilly had reached the vestibule at the
moment when the Swiss had just repulsed the besiegers. , He stopped them,
and enjoined them in the name of the King to follow liira to the Assembly.
The Swiss, in considerable number, then followed M. d'Hervilly to the
Feuillans amidst the most galling discharges. The palace was thus deprived
of the greater portion of its defenders. Still, however, a considerable num-
ber were left, either on the staircase, or in the apartments. Tliese the order
had not reached, and they were soon destined to be exposed, without means
of resistance, to the most awful dangers.
Meanwhile the besiegers had rallied. The Marseillais, united to the
Bretons, were ashamed of having given way. They took courage again,
and returned the charge boiling with fury. Westerinann, who afterwards
displayed genuine talents, directed their efforts with intelligence. They
rushed forward with ardour, fell in great numbers, but at length gained the
vestibule, passed the staircase, and made themselves masters of the palace.
The rabble, with pikes, poured in after them, and the rest of the scene was
"p.
O
b-d
Q
ir'-
V-
C
^
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 329
soon but one general massacre.* The unfortunate Swiss in vain begged
for quarter, at the same time throwing down their arms. They were
butchered without mercy. The palace was set on fire ; the servants who
filled it were pursued ; some escaped, others were sacrificed.! Among the
* " It was no longer a battle, but a massacre. The enraged multitude broke into the
palace, and put to death every person found within it. The fugitives, pursued into ihe gar-
dens of the Tuileries, were murdered under the trees, amidst the fountains, and at the feet of
the statues. Some wretches climbed up the marble monuments which adorn that splendid
spot. The insurgents refrained from firing, lest they should injure the statuary, but pricked
them with their bayonets till they came down, and then slaughtered them at their feet : an
instance of taste for art, mingled with revolutionary cruelty, unparalleled in the history of the
world." — Alison. E.
-[-"The populace had no sooner become masters of the palace than they exerted their fury
against every soul in it without distinction. The gentlemen ushers of the chambers, the
pages of the back-stairs, the doorkeepers, even persons in the lowest and most servile employ-
ments were all alike butchered. Streams of blood flowed everywhere from the roofs to the
cellars. It was impossible to set foot on a single spot without treading upon a dead body.
Stripped, many of them, as soon as they were murdered, their lifeless bodies presented m
addition to the ghastliness of death, the shocking spectacle of a mutilation which the mind
may conceive, but which modesty forbids me to describe. And among the perpetrators of
these atrocious deeds, were found women ! Seven hundred and fifty Swiss perished on that
dreadful day ! Nine otficers survived, only to be butchered a few days after in a more cruel
manner. The instant the mob rushed into the palace, they forced their way into, and
plundered every corner. Bureaus were burst open ; furniture was broken to pieces, and
flung out of the windows ; even the cellars were ransacked ; in short, the whole presented
nothing but scenes of devastation and death. The mob spared only the paintings in the
state-room. The butchery did not cease for hours ; but the aristocrats were no longer the
only victims. Some of the rioters were massacred by other rioters. Rapine, drunkenness,
and impunity increased the numbers of the populace; the day seemed to be made the revel
of carnage; and the mangled bodies of the Swiss were covered with fresh heajis of the self-
destroyed rabble ! — Peltier. E.
" lii about half an hour after the royal family had gone to the Assembly, I saw four heads
carried on pikes along the terrace of Feuillans towards the building where the legislative
body was sitting : which was, I believe, the signal for attacking the palace ; for at the same
instant there began a dreadful fire of cannon and musketry. The palace was everywhere
pierced with balls and bullets. I ran from place to place, and finding the apartments and
staircases already strewed with dead bodies, I took the resolution of leaping from one of the
windows in the Queen's room down upon the terrace. I continued my road till I came to
the dauphin's garden-gate, where some Marseillais who had just butchered several of the
Swiss were stripping them. One of them came up to me with a bloody sword in his hand,
saying, ' How, citizen, without arms! Here, take this sword, and help us to kill!' How-
ever, luckily, another Marseillais seized it, and being dressed in a plain frock I succeeded in
making my escape. Some of the Swiss who were pursued, took refuge in an adjoining stable.
I concealed myself in the same place. They were soon cut to pieces close to me. On hearing
their cries, the master of the house ran up, and I seized that opportunity of going in, where,
without knowing me, M. le Dreux and his wife invited me to stay till the danger was over.
Presently a body of armed men came in to see if any of the Swiss were concealed there.
After a fruitless search, these fellows, their hands dyed with blood, stopped and coolly related
the murders of which they had been guilty. I remained in this asylum from ten o'clock in
the morning till four in the afternoon; having before my eyes a view of all the horrors that
were pierpetrated at the Place de Louis Quinze. Of the men, some were still continuing the
slaughter, and others cutting oil the heads of those who were already slain ; while the women,
lost to all sense of shame, were committing the most indecent mutilations on the dead bodies,
from which they tore pieces of flesh, and carried them off in triumph. Towards evening I
took the road to Versailles, and crossed the Pont Louis Seize which was covered with the
naked carcasses of men already in a state of putrefaction from the great heat of the weather.
— Clert/. E.
"The lOth of August was a day I shall never forget. It was the day of my fete, and
hitherto I had always sm-nt it happily. Il was now a day of mourning. In the streets the
cries of the people mingDed with the thundering of artillery and the groans of the wounded.
About noon my brother entered with one of his companions in arms, who was wrapped in a
VOL. I. — 42 2 E 2
330 HISTORY OF THE
number, there were generous conquerors. " Spare the women," cried one
of them ; " do not dishonour the nation !" and he saved the Queen's ladies,
who were on their knees, witli swords uplifted over their heads. There
were courageous victims ; there Avere others who displayed ingenuity in
saving, when they had no longer the courage to defend themselves. Among
those furious conquerors there were even feelings of honesty, and, either
from popular vanity, or from that disinterestedness which springs from
enthusiasm, the money found in the palace was carried to the Assembly.
The Assembly had anxiously awaited the issue of the combat. At length,
at eleven o'clock, were heard shouts of victory a thousand times repeated.
The doors yielded to the pressure of a mob intoxicated with joy and fuiy.
The hall was filled with wrecks that were brought thither, and with the
Swiss who had been made prisoners, and whose lives had been spared, in
order to do homage to the Assembly by this act of popular clemency.
Meanwhile, the King and his family, confined within the narrow box of a
reporter, witnessed the ruin of their throne and the joy of their conquerors.*
great-coat. The young royalist Iiad tasted nothing for forty hours, and he had just escaped
from the pursuit of those who would have massacred hhn if they could have found him.
The young gentleman was carefully concealed in my little apartment. My father was out,
and my brother went frequently to the gate to look for him. The storm seemed to be sub-
siding, but the firing of musketry was still heard at intervals. Night was drawing on, and
my father had not yet returned. My brother again went to the gate to look for him, and
he saw a man quickly turn the corner of our hotel. He immediately recognised my father,
who desired him to leave the door open, observing that he was merely going round the cor-
ner to fetch a person who was in the arcade of the mint. He returned, bringing with him a
gentleman who was scarcely able to walk. He was leaning on the arm of my father, who
conducted him silently to a bedchamber. It was M. de Bevy. He was pale and faint, and
the blood was flowing copiously from his wounds. The horrors of that awful day are never
to be forgotten !" — Duchess d^Abrantes. E.
* "For fifteen hours the royal family were shut up in the short-hand writers' box. At
length at one in the morning, they were transferred to the FeuiUans. When left alone, Louis
prostrated himself in prayer." — Lacrttellc. E.
" The royal family remained three days at the Feuillans. They occupied a small suite
of apartments consisting of four cells. In the first were the gentlemen who had accompanied
the King. In the second we found the King; he was having his hair dressed ; he took two
locks of it, and gave one to my sister, and one to me. la the third was the Queen, in bed,
and in an indescribable state of aflliction. We found her attended only by a bulky woman,
who seemed tolerably civil ; she waited upon the Queen, who, as yet, had none of her own
people about her. I asked her majesty what the ambassadors of foreign powers had done
under existing circumstances. She told me that they could do nothing, but that the lady of
tlie English ambassador had just given her a proof of the private interest she took in her
welfare by sending her linen for her son. — Madame Campan. E.
"At this frightful period. Lady Sutherland (the present Duchess and Countess of
Sutherland) then English ambassadress at Paris, showed the most devoted attentions to the
royal family." — Madame de Stael. E.
" It was in this prison (the reporters' box) six feet square and eight feet high, the white
walls of which reflected the rays of the sun, and increased their ardour, that the King and
his family spent fourteen hours together in the course of a day that was burning hot. As
the mob kept tumultuously crowding round the hall, it was found advisable to destroy an iron
railing, which separated this lodge from the National Assembly, that the King might be able
to get into the Assembly in case the lodge should be attacked. Four of the ministers and
the King himself were obliged to pull down this iron railing without any instrument but the
strength of their hands and arms. The King then sat down and remained in his chair, with
his hat off, during the debate that followed, keeping his eyes constantly fixed on the Assem-
bly, and taking no refreshment for the whole time but a peach and a glass of water." —
Pelller. E.
" One circumstance may serve as a proof of the illusion in which the Queen was, with
respect to her situation, even when she was in tiie reporters' box. When the cannons were
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 331
Vergniaud had for a moment quitted the chair, for the purpose of drawing
up the decree of dethronement. He returned, and the Assembly passed
that celebrated decree, to this effect :
Louis XVI. is, for the time being, suspended from royalty ;
A plan of education is directed for the prince royal ;
A national convention is convoked.
Was it then a plan long resolved upon to overthrow the monarchy, since
they only suspended the King and provided an education for the prince ?
With what fear, on the contrary, did tliey not lay hands on that ancient
power ! With what a kind of hesitation did they not approach that aged
tree, beneath which the French generations had been alternately fortunate
or unfortunate, but under which at least they had lived !
The public mind, however, is prompt. It needed but a short interval to
throw off the relics of an ancient veneration ; and the monarchy suspended,
was soon to become the monarchy destroyed. It was doomed to perish,
not in the person of a Louis XL, a Charles IX., a Louis XIV., but in that
of Louis XVL, one of the most honest kings that ever sat upon a throne.
firing upon the palace, and in the midst of the violent petitions for dethroning the King, her
majesty, relying upon the [)resident's speech to the King at his entrance, turned to Count
d'Hervilly, who was standing behind her, and said, ' Well, M. d'Hervilly, were we not in
the right not to go away ?' — ' I wish, with all my heart, madam,' answered the count, ' that
your majesty may be of the same opinion six months hence !' " — Bcrlrand de Mollevilk. E.
" For many long hours the King and his family were shut up in the reporters' box. Ex-
hausted by fatigue, the infant dauphin at length dropped off into a profound sleep in his
mother's arms; the princess royal and Madame Elizabeth, with their eyes streaming with
tears, sat on each side of her. At last they were transferred to the building of the Feuillans.
Already the august captives felt the pangs of indigence ; all their dresses and eiVects had
been pillaged or destroyed ; the dauphin was indebted for a change of linen to the wife of the
Eiigli.-ih ambassador; and the Queen was obliged to borrow twenty -five louis from Madame
Anguie, one of the ladies of the bedchamber." — Alison. E.
332 HISTORY OF THE
CONCLUSION OF THE LEGISLATIVE
ASSEMBLY.
The Swiss had courageously defended the Tuileries, but their resistance
had proved unavailing : the great staircase had been stormed and the palace
taken. The people, thenceforward victorious, forced their way on all sides
into this abode of royalty, to which they had always attached the notion of
immense treasures, unbounded felicity, formidable powers, and dark projects.
What an arrear of vengeance to be wreaked at once upon wealth, great-
ness, and power !
Eighty Swiss grenadiers, who had not had time to retreat, vigorously de-
fended their lives and were slaughtered without mercy. The mob then rushed
into the apartments and fell upon those useless friends who had assembled
to defend the King, and who, by the name of knights of the dagger, had
incurred the highest degree of popular rancour. Their impotent weapons
served only to exasperate the conquerors, and give greater probability to the
plans imputed to the court. Every door that was found locked was broken
open. Two ushers, resolving to defend the entrance to tlie great council-
chamber and to sacrifice themselves to etiquette, were instantly butchered.
The numerous attendants of the royal family fled tumultuously through the
long galleries, threw themselves from the windows, or sought in the immense
extent of the palace some obscure hiding-place wherein to save their lives.
The Queen's ladies betook themselves to one of her apartments, and expected
every moment to be attacked in their asylum. By direction of the Princess
of Tarentum, the doors were unlocked, that the irritation might not be
increased by resistance. The assailants made their appearance and seized
one of them. The sword was already uplifted over her head. " Spare the
women !" exclaimed a voice ; "let us not dishonour the nation !" At the^e
words the weapon dropped ; the lives of the Queen's ladies were spared ;
they were protected and conducted out of the palace by the very men who
were on the point of sacrificing them, and who, with all the popular fickle-
ness, now escorted them and manifested the most ingenious zeal to save
them.
After the work of slaughter followed that of devastation. The magnificent
furniture was dashed in pieces, and the fragments scattered far and wide.
The rabble penetrated into the private apartments of the Queen and indulged
in the most obscene mirth. They pried into the most secret recesses, ran-
sacked every depository of papers, broke open every lock, and enjoyed the
twofold gratification of curiosity and destruction. To the horrors of murder
and pillage were added those of conflagration. The flames, having already
consumed the slieds contiguous to the outer courts, began to spread to the
edifice, and threatened that imposing abode of royalty with complete ruin.
The desolation was not confined to the melancholy circuit of the palace ; it
extended to a distance. The streets were strewed with wrecks of furniture
and dead bodies. Every one who fled, or Avas supposed to be fleeing, was
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 333
treated as an enemy, pursued, and fired at. An almost incessant report of
musketry succeeded Uiat of the cannon, and \va.s every moment the si^al
of fresh murders. How many horrors are the attendants of victory, be the
vanquished, the conquerors, and the cause for which they have fought, who
and what they may !
The executive power being abolished by the suspension of Louis XVI.,
only two otiier audiorities were left in Paris, tliat of die commune and that
of the Assembly. As we have seen in the narrative of the lOUi of August,
deputies of the sections had assembled at the Hotel de Ville, expelled the
former magistrates, seized the municipal power, and directed the insurrection
during the whole night and day of the lOlli. They possessed the real power
of action. They had all the ardour of victory, and represented that new and
impetuous revolutionary class, which had struggled during the whole session
against the inertness of the other more enlightened but less active class of
men, of which the Legislative Assembly was composed.
The first thing the deputies of the sections did was to displace all the high
authorities, which, being closer to the supreme power, were more attached
to it. They had suspended the staff of the national guard, and, by with-
drawing Mandat from the palace, had disorganized its defence. Santerre
had been invested by them with the command of the national guard. They
had been in not less haste to suspend the administration of the department,
which, from the lofty region wherein it was placed, had continually curbed
the popular passions, in which it took no share.
As for the municipality, they had suppressed the general council, substi-
tuted themselves in the place of its authority, and merely retained Petion,
the mayor, Manuel, the procureur syndic, and the sixteen municipal admi-
nistrators. All this had taken place during the attack on the palace. Danton
had audaciously directed that stormy sitting ; and when the grape-shot of
the Swiss had caused the mob to fall back along the quays, he liad gone out
saying, " Our bretliren call for aid ; let us go and give it to them." His
presence had contributed to lead the populace back to the field of batde, and
to decide the victory.
When the combat was over, it was proposed that Petion should be re-
leased from the guard placed over him and reinstated in his office of mayor.
Nevertheless, either from real anxiety for his safety, or from fear of giving
themselves too scrupulous a chief durinsf the first moments of the insurrec-
tion, it had been decided that he should be guarded a day or two longer,
under pretext of putting his life out of danger. At the same time, they had
removed the busts of T>ouis XVL, Bailly, and Lafayette, from the hall of the
general council. The new class which was raising itself thus displaced the
first eml)lems of the Revolution, in order to substitute its own in their stead.
The insurgents of the commune had to place themselves in communica-
tion with the Assembly. They reproached it with wavering, nay, even
with royalism ; but they regarded it as the only existing sovereign authority,
and were not at all disposed to undervalue it. On the morning of the 10th,
a deputation appeared at the bar, to acquaint it with the formation of the
insurrectional commune, and to state what had been done. Danton was one
of the deputies. " The people who send us to you," said he, " have charged
us to declare that they still think you worthy of their confidence, but that
they recognise no other jud^c of the extraordinary measures to which neces-
sity has forced tliem to recur, than Uie French nation, our sovereign and
your's, convoked in the primary assemblies." To these deputies the As-
sembly replied, dirough the medium of its president, that it approved all that
334 HISTORY OF THE
had been done, and that it recommended to them order and peace. It more-
over communicated to them the decrees passed in the course of the day, and
begg-ed that they woukl circulate them. After this, it drew up a proclama-
tion for the purpose of enjoining the respect due to persons and properlv,
and commissioned some of its members to convey it to the people.
Its first attention, at this moment, was naturally directed to the supply of
a substitute for royalty, whicli had been destroyed. The ministers, assem-
bled under the name of the executive council, were charged by it, ad interim,
with the duties of the administration and the execution of the laws. Tlie
minister of justice, the keeper of the seal of state, was to affix it to the
decrees, and to promulgate them in the name of the legislative power. It
was dien requisite to select the persons who should compose the ministry.
The first idea was to reinstate Roland, and Clavieres, and Servan, who had
been removed on account of their attachment to the popular cause ; for the
new Revolution could not but favour all that royalty had disapproved.
Those tliree ministers were, therefore, unanimously reappointed ; Roland to
the interior, Servan to the war-department, and Clavieres to the finances.
It was requisite also to appoint a minister of justice, of foreign affairs, and
of the marine. Here the choice was free, and the wishes formerly con-
ceived in favour of obscure merit and patriotism, ardent, and for that reason
disagreeable to the court, could be realized without impediment. Danton,
who possessed such infiuence over the multitude, and who had exerted it
with such effect during the last forty-eight hours, was deemed necessary ;
and, though he was disliked by the Girondins as a delegate of the populace,
he was nominated minister of justice by a majority of two hundred and
twenty-two votes, out of two hundred and eighty-four. After this satisfaction
given to the people, and this post conferred on energy, care was taken to
place a man of science at the head of the marine. This Avas Monge, the
mathematician, known to and appreciated by Condorcet, and chosen at his
suggestion. Lastly, Lebrun* was placed at the head of tlie foreign affairs,
and in his person was recompensed one of those industrious men who had
before performed all the labour of which the ministers reaped the honour.
Having thus reconstituted the executive power, the Assembly declared
that all the decrees to which Louis XVI. had affixed his veto should receive
the force of law. The formation of a camp below Paris, the object of one
of these decrees, and the cause of such warm discussions, was immediately
ordered, and the gunners were authorized that very day to commence espla-
nades on the heights of Montmarte. After effecting a revolution in Paris, it
was requisite to insure its success in the departments, and, above all, in the
armies, commanded as they were by suspected generals. Commissaries,
selected from among the members of the Assembly, were directed to repair
to the provinces and to the armies, to enlighten them respecting the events
of the 10th of August ; and they were authorized to remove, in case of need,
all the officers, civil and military, and to appoint others.
A few hours had been sufficient for all these decrees ; and, while tlie
Assembly was engaged in passing them, it was constandy interrupted by the
necessity of attending to other matters. The valuables carried off from the
Tuileries were deposited within its precincts. The Swiss, the servants of
the palace, and all those who had been apprehended in their flight, or saved
from the fury of the people, were conducted to its bar as to a sanctuary. A
* "Lebrun passed for a prudent man, because he was destitute of any species of enthusi-
asm ; and for a clever man, because he was a tolerable clerk ; but he had no acti>'ity, no
•talent, and no decision." — Madame Roland's Memoirs. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 335
great number of petitioners came, one after another, to report what they had
done or seen, and to relate their discoveries concerning the supposed plots
of the court. Accusations and invectives of all kinds were brought forward
ao-ainst the royal family, whicli heard all this from the narrow space to which
it was confined. That place was the box of the short-hand writer. liOuis
XVI. listened witli composure to all the speeches, and conversed at times
with Vergniaud and other deputies, wiio were placed close to him. Shut
up there for fifteen hours, he asked for some refreshment, which he shared
with his wife and his children ; and this circumstance called forth ignoble
observations on the fondness for the table which had been imputed to him.
Every one knows how far victorious parties are disposed to spare misfortune.
The young dauphin was lying on his mother's lap, fast asleep, overcome by
the oppressive heat. The young princess and Madame Elizabeth,* their
eyes red with weeping, were by the side of the Queen. At the back of the
box were several gentlemen devotedly attached to the King, who had not
abandoned misfortune. Fifty men, belonging to the troops which had
escorted the royal family from die palace to the Assembly, served as a guard
for this spot, from which the deposed monarch beheld the spoils of his palace,
and witnessed the dismemberment of his ancient power, and the distribution
of its relics among the various popular authorities.
The tumult continued to rage with extreme violence, and, in the opinion
of the people, it was not sufficient to have suspended royalty, it behoved
them to destroy it. Petitions on this suljject poured in ; and, while the
multitude, in an uproar, waited outside die hall for an answer, they inun-
dated the avenues, beset the doors, and twice or thrice attacked them with
such violence as nearly to burst diem open, and to excite apprehensions for
the unfortunate family of which the Assembly had taken charge. Henri
Lariviere, wlio was sent, with other commissioners, to pacify the people,
returned at that moment, and loudly exclaimed, " Yes, gendemen, I know
it, I have seen it ; I assure you that the mass of the people is determined to
perish a thousand times rather than disgrace liberty by an act of inhumanity ;
and most assuredly there is not one person here present — and everybody
must understand me," he added, " who cannot rely upon French honour."
These cheering and courageous words were applauded. Vergniaud spoke
in his turn, and replied to the petitioners, who insisted that the suspension
should be changed into dethronement. " I am graUfied," said he, " that I
am furnished with an occasion of explaining the intention of the Assembly
in presence of the citizens. It has decreed the suspension of the executive
power, and appointed a convention which is to decide irrevocably the great
quesUon of the dethronement. In so doing, it has confined itself widiin its
powers, which did not allow it to consdlule itself die judge of royalty ; and
it has provided for the welfare of the state, by rendering it impossible for the
executive power to do mischief. It has thus satisfied all wants, and at the
same time kept widiin the limits of its prerogatives." These words pro-
• " Madame Elizabrth Philippine Marie Helene, sister to Louis XVL, was born at Ver-
sailles in the year 1764. She was the youngest child of Louis, Dauphin of France, and
Marie Josephine of Saxony. At the commencement of the Revolution, Madame Elizabeth
saw with terror the convocation of the States-general; but when it was found to lie inevita-
ble, she devoted herself from that moment entirely to the welfare of her brother and the royal
family. She was condemned to death in 1794, and ascended the scaffold with twenty-four
other victims, not one c^ whom she knew. She was thirty years old at the time of her
execution, and demeaned herself throughout with courage and resignation." — Biographic
Moderne. E.
336 HISTORY OF THE
duced a favourable impression, and tlie petitioners themselves, pacified by
their effect, undertook to enlighten and to appease the people.
It was requisite to bring this long sitting to a close. It was therefore
ordered that the effects brought from the palace should be deposited with the
commune ; that the Swiss and all other persons apprehended should either
be guarded at the Feuillans or carried to different prisons ; lastly, that the
royal family should be guarded at tiie Luxembourg till the meeting of the
National Convention, but that, while the necessary preparations were making
there for its reception, it should lodge in the building appropriated to the
Assembly. At one o'clock in the morning of Saturday, the 11th, the royal
family was removed to the quarters which had been prepared for them, and
which consisted of four cells of the ancient Feuillans. The gentlemen who
had not quitted the King took possession of the first, the King of the second,
the Queen, her sister, and her children, of the two others. The keeper's
wife waited on the princesses, and supplied the place of the numerous train
of ladies, who, but the preceding day, were disputing the honour of attending
upon them.
The sitting was suspended at three o'clock in the morning. Paris was
still in an uproar. To prevent disturbance, the environs of the palace were
illuminated, and the greater part of the citizens were under arms.
Such had been that celebrated day, and the results which it had pro-
duced. The King and his family were prisoners at the Feuillans ; the three
dismissed ministers were reinstated in their functions ; Danton, buried the
preceding day in an obscure club, was minister of justice ; Petion was
guarded in his own residence, but to his name, shouted with enthusiasm,
was added die appellation of Father of the People. Marat had issued from
the dark retreat where Danton had concealed him during tlie attack, and now,
armed with a sword, paraded through Paris at the head of the Marseilles
battalion. Robespierre, who has not been seen figuring during these terrible
scenes — Robespierre was haranguing at die Jacobins, and expatiating to some
of the members who remained with him on the use to be made of the victory,
and on the necessity of superseding the existing Assembly and of impeaching
Lafayette.
The very next day it was found necessary again to consider how to pacify
the excited populace, who still continued to murder such persons as they
took for fugiuve aristocrats. The Assembly resumed its sitting at seven in
the morning. The royal family was replaced in the short-hand writer's box,
that it might again witness the decisions about to be adopted, and the scenes
that were to occur in the legislative body. Petion, liberated and escorted by
a numerous concourse, came to make a report of the state of Paris, which
he had visited, and where he had endeavoured to restore tranquillity. A
body of citizens had united to protect his person. Petion was warmly re-
ceived by the Assembly, and immediately set out again to continue his pacific
exhortations. The Swiss, sent the preceding day to the Feuillans, were
threatened. The mob, with loud sliouts, demanded their death, calling diem
accomplices of the palace and murderers of the people. They were at length
appeased by the assurance that the Swiss should be tried, and that a court-
martial should be formed to punish those who were afterwards called the
conspirators of the 10th of August. "I move," cried the violent Chabot,
" that they be conducted to die Abbaye to be tried In die land of
equality, the law ought to smite all heads, even those that are seated on the
throne." The officers had already been removed to the Abbaye, Avhither the
soldiers were conveyed in dieir turn. This was a task of infinite difficulty,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 337
and it was necessary to promise the people that they should speedily be
broui^ht to trial.
Already, as we see, did the idea of taking revenge on all the defenders of
royally, and punishing them for the dangers that liad been incurred, possess
people's minds ; and it was soon destined to produce cruel dissensions. In
following the progress of the insurrection, we have already remarked the
divisions that began to arise in the popular party. We have already seen
the Assembly, composed of sedate and cultivated men, placed in opposition
to the clubs and the municipalities, in which were collected men inferior in
education and in talents, but from their position, their less dignified manners,
their aspiring ambition, disposed to act and to huny on events. We have
seen that the nifjht before the 10th of August, Chabot had differed in opinion
from Petion, who, in unison with the majority of the Assembly, recom-
mended a decree of dethronement in preference to an attack by main force.
Those men who had been advocates for the utmost possible violence were,
therefore, on the following day, in presence of the Assembly, proud of a
victory won almost in spite of that body, and reminding it with expressions
of equivocal respect that it had absolved Lafayette, and that it must not again
compromise the welfare of the people by its weakness. They filled the
commune, where they were mingled with ambitious tradesmen, with subal-
tern agitators, and with members of clubs. They occupied the halls of the
Jacobins and the Cordeliers, and some of them had seats on the extreme
benches of the legislative body. Chabot, the Capuchin, the most ardent of
them, passed alternately from the tribune of the Assembly to that of the
Jacobins, constantly holding forth tlireats of pikes and the tocsin.
Tiie Assembly had voted the suspension, and the clubs were for dethrone-
ment. In appointing a governor for tlie dauphin, the former had presup-
posed the continuance of royalty, and the latter were for a republic. The
majority of the Assembly thought, that it behoved it to make an active
defence against foreigners, but to spare the vanquished. The clubs, on the
contrary, maintained that it was right not only to defend themselves against
foreign foes, but to deal severely with those who, intrenched in the palace,
had intended to massacre the people and to bring the Prussians to Paris.
Rising in their ardour to extreme opinions, they declared that there was no
need for electoral bodies to form the new Assembly, that all the citizens
ought to be deemed qualified to vote ; nay, one Jacobin even proposed to
give political rights to the women. Lastly, they loudly insisted that the
people ought to come in arms to manifest their wishes to the legislative body.
Marat excited this agitation of minds and provoked people to vengeance,
because he thought, according to his atrocious system, that France required
purgingr. Robespierre, not so much from a system of purification, nor from
a bloodthirsty disposition, as from envy of the Assembly, excited against it
reproaches of weakness and royalism. Extolled by the Jacobins, proposed,
before the 10th of August, as the dictator who was wanted, he was now pro-
claimed as the most eloquent and the most incorruptible defender of the rights
of the people.* Danton, taking no pains either to gain praise or to gain a
hearinsr, having never aspired to the dictatorship, had nevertheless decided
the result of the 10th of Auofust by his boldness. Even still neglecting all
display, he thought only of ruling the executive council, of which he was a
member, by controlling or influencing his colleagues. Incapable of hatred
• " When speaking at the olubs, Robespierre had a trick of addressing the people in such
honeyed terms as ' Poor people !' — ' Virtuous people!' — which never failed of producing an
effect on his ferocious aSdience." — Lacretelle. E.
VOL. I.— 43 2 F
33S HISTORY OF THE
or envy, he bore no ill-will to those deputies whose lustre eclipsed Robes-
pierre ; but he neglected them as inactive, and preferred to them those bold
spirits of the lower classes on whom he relied more for maintaining and
completing the Revolution.
Nothing was yet known of these divisions, especially out of Paris. All
that the public of France in general ha 1 yet perceived of them was the re-
sistance of the Assembly to wishes that were too ardent, and the acquittal
of Lafayette, pronounced in spite of the commune and the Jacobins. But
all this was imputed. to the royalist and Feuillantine majority. The Giron-
dins were still admired. Brissot and Robespierre were equally esteemed ; but
Petion, in particular, was adored, as the mayor who had been so ill treated
by the court : and it was not known that Petion appeared too moderate to
Cliabot, that he wounded the pride of Robespierre, that he was regarded as
an honest but useless man by Danton, and as a conspirator doomed to purifi-
cation by Marat. Petion, therefore, still enjoyed the respect of the multi-
tude ; but, like Bailly, after the 14th of July, he was destined soon to become
troublesome and odious by disapproving the excesses which he was unable
to prevent.
The principal coalition of the new revolutionists was formed at the Jaco-
bins and the commune. All that was to be done was proposed and discussed
at the Jacobins ; and the same persons then went to the Hotel de Ville, to
execute, by means of their municipal powers, what they could only plan in
their club. The general -council of the commune composed of itself a kind
of assembly, as numerous as the legislative body, having its tribunes, its
bureaux, its much more tumultuous plaudits, and a power de facto mucli
more considerable. The mayor was its president, and the procurew syndic
was the official speaker, whose duty it was to make all the necessary requi-
sitions. Petion had already ceased to appear there, and confined his atten-
tion to the supply of the city with provisions. Manuel, the procurew,
suffering himself to be borne along by the revolutionary billows, raised liis
voice there every day. But the person who most swayed this assembly
was Robespierre. Keeping aloof during the first three days that followed
the 10th of August, he had repaired thitlier after the insurrection had been
consummated, and, appearing at the bureau to have his powers verified, he
seemed rather to take possession of it than to come for the purpose of sub-
mitting his titles. His pride, so far from creating displeasure, only inci'eased
the respect that was paid him. His reputation for talents, incorruptibility,
and perseverance, made him a grave and respectable personage, whom
these assembled tradesmen were proud of having among them. Until the
Convention, to which he was sure of belonging, should meet, he came thither
to exercise a more real power than that of opinion which he enjoyed at the
Jacobins.
The first care of the commune was to get the police into its hands ; for,
in time of civil war, to imprison and to persecute enemies is the most im-
portant and the most envied of powers. The justices of the peace, charged
with the exercise of it in part, had given offence to public opinion by their
proceedings against the popular agitators ; and, either from sentiment, or
from a necessity imposed by their functions, they had set themselves in
hostility against the patriots. It was recollected, in particular, that one of
them had, in the afi'air of Bertrand de Molleville and Carra, the joiirnalist,
dared to summon two deputies. The justices of the peace were therefore
removed, and such of their functions as related to the police were transferred
rto the municipal authorities. In unison, in this instance, with the commune
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 339
of Paris, the Assembly decreed that the police, called the police of general
safety, s^hould be assigned to tlie departments, districts, and municipalities.
It consisted in inquiring into all misdemeanors threatening the internal and
external welfare of the state, in making a list of tlie citizens suspected for
their opinions or their conduct, in apprehending them for a time, and in even
dispersing and disarming them, if it were necessary. It was the councils of
the municipalities that performed these duties ; and the entire mass of the
citizens was thus called upon to watch, to denounce, and to secure, the hos-
tile party. It is easy to conceive how active, but rigorous and arbitrary,
this police, democratically exercised, must have been. The entire council
received tlie denunciation, and a committee of siirveil/ance examined it, and
caused the accused to be apprehended. The national guarils were in per-
manent requisition, and the municipalities of all towns containing more than
twenty thousand souls had power to add particular regulations to tliis law
of general safety. Assuredly the Legislative Assembly had no notion that
it was thus paving the way to the sanguinary executions which not long
afterwards took place ; but, surrounded by enemies at home and abroad, it
called upon all the citizens to watch them, as it had called upon them all lo
attend to the civil administration, and to tight.
The commune of Paris eagerly availed itself of these new powers, and
caused many persons to be apprehended. Here we see the conquerors, still
exasperated by the dangers of the preceding day and the still greater dangers
of the morrow, seizing their enemies, now cast down, but soon likely to rise
ajjain by the aid of foreigrners. The committee of svrveilla/ice of the com-
nmne of Paris was composed of the most violent men. Marat, who in the
Revolution had made such audacious attacks on persons, was at the head of
this committee ; and in such an office, he of all men was most to be dreaded.
Besides this principal committee, the commune of Paris instituted a par-
ticular one in each section. It ordered that passports should not be delivered
till after the deliberation of the assemblies of sections ; that travellers should
be accompanied, either to the municipality or to the gates of Paris, by two
witnesses, who should attest the identity of the person who had obtained tlie
passport with him who made use of it for the purpose of departing. It thus
strove, by all possible means, to prevent the escape of suspected persons
under fictitious names. It then directed a list of the enemies of the Revolu-
tion to be made, and enjoined the citizens, in a proclamation, to denounce
all who had shared in the guilt of the lOlh of August. It ordered those
writers who had supported the royal cause lo be apprehended, and gave
their presses to patriotic writers. Marat triumphantly obtained the restitu-
tion of four presses, which, he said, had been taken from him by order of
the traitor Lafayette. Commissioners went to the prisons to release those
Avho were confined for shouts or language hostile to the court. Lastly, the
commune, always ready to interfere in everything, sent deputies, after the
example of the Assembly, to enlighten and to convert the army of Lafayette,
which excited some uneasiness.
To the commune was assigned moreover a last and not least important
duty — the custody of the royal family. The Assembly had at first ordered
its removal to the Luxembourg, but, upon the observation that this palace
Avas dithcult to guard, it had preferred the hotel of the ministry of justice.
But the commune, which had already in its hands the police of the capital,
and which considered itself as particularly charged with the custody of the
King, proposed the 'J"'emple, and declared that it could not answer for his
safe custody, unless^ the tower of that ancient abbey were selected for his
340 HISTORY OF THE
dwelling. The Assembly assented, and committed the custody of the illus-
trious prisoners to the mayor and Santerre, the commandant-general, upon
their personal responsibility. Twelve commissioners of the general council
were to keep watch, without interruption, at the 'J'emple. It had been con-
verted by outworks into a kind of fortress. Numerous detachments of the
national guard alternately formed the garrison, and no person was allowed
to enter without permission from the municipality. The Assembly had
decreed that five hundred thousand francs should be taken from the treasury
for tlie maintenance of the royal family till the approaching meeting of the
National Convention.
The functions of the commune were, as we see, very extensive. Placed
in the centre of the state where the great powers are exercised, and impelled
by its energy to do of its own accord whatever seemed to it to be too gently
done by the high authorities, it was hurried into incessant encroachments.
Tlie Assembly, convinced of the necessity of keeping it within certain limits,
ordered the re-election of a new departmental council, to succeed that which
had been dissolved on the day of the insurrection. The commune, perceiv-
ing that it was threatened with the yoke of a superior authority, whicii would
probably restrain its flights, as the former department had done, was incensed
at this decree, and ordered the sections to suspend the election which had
already commenced. Manuel, the prociireiir syndic, was immediately de-
spatched from the Hotel de Ville to the Feuillans, to present the remon-
strances of the municipality. " The delegates of the citizens of Paris," said
he, " have need of unlimited powers. A new authority placed between them
and you would onlv serve to sow the seeds of dissension. It is requisite
that the people, in order to deliver themselves from that power destructive
to their sovereignty, should once more arm themselves with their ven-
geance."
Such was the menacing language which men already had tlie hardihood
to address to the Assembly. The latter complied with tlie demand ; and,
Avhether it believed it to be impossible or imprudent to resist, or that it con-
sidered it to be dangerous to fetter at that moment the energy of the com-
mune, it decided that the new council should have no authority over tlie
municipality, and be nothing more than a commission of finance, charged
Avith the superintendence of the public contributions in the department of
the Seine.
Another more serious question engaged the public mind, and served to
demonstrate more forcibly the difference of sentiment prevailing between
the commune and the Assembly. The punishment of those who had fired
upon the people, and who were ready to show themselves as soon as the
enemy should draw near, was loudly demanded. They were called by
turns "the conspirators of the 10th of August," and "the traitors." The
court-martial appointed on the 11th to try the Swiss did not appear suffi-
cient, because its powers were limited to the prosecution of the Swiss
soldiers. The criminal tribunal of the Seine was thought to be fettered by
too slow formalities, and besides, all the authorities anterior to the 10th of
August were suspected. The commune therefore prayed the erection of a
tribunal which should be empowered to take cognizance of the crimes of tlie
loth of August, and have sufficient latitude to reach all who were called
the traitors. The Assembly referred the petition to the extraordinary com-
mission appointed in the month of .July to propose the means of safety.
On the 14th, a fresh deputation of the commune was sent to the legislative
body, to demand the decree relative to the extraordinary tribunal, declaring
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 341
that, as it was not yet passed, they were directed to wait for it. Gaston,
the deputy, addressed some severe observations to this deputation, which
withdrew. The Assembly persisted in refusing to create an extraordinary
tribunal, and merely assigned to the established tribunals the cognizance of
the. crimes of the lOth of ^^k gust.
At this intelligence, violent agitation spread through Paris. The section
of the Quinze-Vingts repaired to the general council of the commune, and
intimated that the tocsin would be rung in the fauxbourg St. Antoine, if the
decree applied for were not immediately passed. The general council then
sent a fresh deputation, at the head of which was Robespierre. He spoke
in the name of the municipality, and made the most insolent remonstrances
to the deputies. " The tranquillity of the people," said he, " depends on
the punishment of the gviilty, and yet you have done nothing to reach them.
Your decree is insufficient. It does not explain the nature and the extent
of the crimes to be punished, for it specifies only the crimes of the lOth of
August, and the crimes of the enemies of the Revolution extend far beyond
the 10th of August and Paris. With such an expression, the traitor Tia-
fayette would escape the vengeance of the law. As for the form of the
tribunal, the people can no longer tolerate that which you have retained.
The twofold degree of jurisdiction causes numberless delays, and, besides,
all the old autliorities are suspected; new ones are required; it is necessary
that the tribunal demanded be composed of deputies taken from the sections,
and that it be empowered to try the guilty, sovereignly, and without appeal."
This imperative petition appeared still more harsh from the tone of Robes-
pierre. The Assembly answered the people of Paris in an address, in
which it rejected any proposal for an extraordinary commission and chambre
ardente, as unworthy of liberty, and fit only for despotism.
These reasonable observations produced no efiect. They served only to
increase the irritation. Nothing was talked of in Paris but the tocsin; and,
the very next day, a representative of the commune appeared at the bar, and
said to the Assembly, "As a citizen, as a magistrate of the people, I come
to inform you Uiat at twelve o'clock this night the tocsin will be rung and
the alarm beaten. The people are weary of not being avenged. Beware
lest they do themselves justice. I demand," added the audacious petitioner,
"that you forthwith decree that a citizen be appointed by each section to
form a criminal tribunal."
This threatening apostrophe roused the Assembly, and particularly the
deputies Choudieu and Thuriot, who warmly reprimanded the envoy of the
commune. A discussion, however, ensued, and the proposal of the com-
mune, strongly supported by the hotheaded members of the Assembly, was
at length converted into a decree. An electoral bodv was to assemble, to
choose the members of an extraordinary tribunal, destined to take coofnizance
of crimes committed on the 10th of August, and other crimes and circum-
stances connected n-ifh it. This tribunal, divided into two sections, was
to pronounce sentence finally and without appeal. Such was the first essay
of the revolutionary tribimal, and the first spur given by vengeance to the
forms of justice. This tribunal was called the tribunal of the 17th of August.
The effect produced on the armies by the recent revolution, and the man-
ner in which they had received the decrees of the 10th, were slill unknown.
This was the most important point, and the fate of the new revolution depended
upon it. The fronti(^ was still divided into three armies, the army of the North,
the army of the cenlre, and the army of the South. Luckner commanded the
first, Lafayette the second, and Montesquieu the third. Since the unfortu-
2 f2
342 HISTORY OF THE
nate affairs at Mons and Tournay, Luckner, urged by Dumouriez, had ag lin
attempted the offensive against the Netherlands, but had retreated, and, iu
evacuating Courtray, had burned the suburbs, which was made a seriaus
charge against the ministry the day before the dethronement. The armies
had since remained in a state of complete inactivity, living in intrenched
camps, and confining themselves to slight skirmishes. Dumouriez, ai"ter
resigning the ministry, had gone as lieutenant-general under Luckner, and
been unfavourably received by the army, where the spirit of Lafayette's
party predominated. Luckner, wholly under tliis influence for a moment,
sent Dumouriez to one of these camps, that of Maulde, and there left him,
witli a small number of troops, to amuse himself with intrenchments and
skirmishes,
v*^ Lafayette, wishing, amidst the dangers that encompassed the King, to be
' nearer to Paris, had been desirous of taking the command of the North. He
was, nevertlieless, unwilling to quit his troops, by whom he was greatly
beloved, and he agreed with Luckner to change positions, each with his
division, and to decamp, the one for the North, the other for the centre.
This operation, in the presence of an enemy, might have been attended with
danger, if, very luckily, the war had not been so completely inactive. Luck-
ner had therefore repaired to Metz, and Lafayette to Sedan. During this
cross-movement, Dumouriez, who was directed to follow with his little corps
the army of Luckner, to which he belonged, halted suddenly in presence of
the enemy, who had threatened to attack him ; and he was obliged to remain
in his camp, lest he should lay open the entry to Flanders to the Duke of
Saxe-Teschen. He assembled the other generals who occupied separate
camps near him ; he concerted with Dillon,' who came up with a portion
of Lafayette's army, and insisted on a council of war at Valenciennes, for
the purpose of justifying, by the necessity of the case, his disobedience to
Luckner. Meanwhile Luckner had arrived at Metz, and Lafayette at
Sedan; and, but for the events of the 10th of August, Dumouriez would
probably have been put under arrest, and brought to a military trial for his
refusal to advance.
Such Avas the situation of the armies when they received tidings of tlie
overthrow of the throne. The first point to which the Legislative Assembly
turned its attention was, as we have seen, to send three commissioners to
carry its decrees and to make the troops take the new oath. The three
commissioners, on their arrival at Sedan, were received by the municipality,
which had orders from Lafayette to cause them to be apprehended. The
mayor questioned them concerning the scene of the 10th of August, required
an account of all the circumstances, and declared, agreealily to the secret
instructions which he had received from Lafayette, that evidently the Legis-
lative Assembly was no longer free when it decreed the suspension of the
King ; that its commissioners were but the envoys of a factious cabal ; and
that they should be put into confinement in the name of the constitution.
They were actually imprisoned, and Lafayette, to exonerate those who exe-
cuted his order, took upon himself the sole responsibility. Immediately
afterwards, he caused his army to take anew the oath of fidelity to tlie law
and to the King ; and ordered the same to be done by all the corps under
* " The Count Arthur de Dillon, a general officer in the French service, was deputed from
Martini<jue to the States-general, and embraced the revolutionary party. In 1793 he took
one of the chief commanils in the army of the North. In the year 1794 he was condemned
to death by the revolutionary tribunal as a conspirator. He was forty-three years old, and
was born at Berwick in England." — Biographit Moderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 343
his command. He reckoned upon seventy-five departments, which had
adhered to liis letter ot" the 16th of June, and he purposed to attempt a con-
trary movement to that of the 10th of Ausust. ])illon, who was at Valen-
ciennes, under the orders of Lafayette, and who held a superior command
to Dumouricz, oheyed his general-in-chief, caused the oath of fidelity to the
law and to the King to be taken, and enjoined Dumouriez to do the same in
his camp at Maulde. Dumouriez, judging more correctly of the future, and
exasperated moreover against the Feuillans, under whose control he was,
seized the occasion to resist them, and to ingratiate himself with the new
government, by refusing either to take the oath himself, or to allow it to be
taken by his troops.
On the 17th, the very day on whicli the new tribunal was so simultane-
ously established, a letter arrived, stating that the commissioners sent to the
army of Lafayette had been apprehended by his orders, and that the legisla-
tive authority was denied. This intelligence produced more irritation than
alarm. The outcry against Lafayette was more vehement than ever. His
accusation was demanded, and the Assembly was reproached with not hav-
ing ordered it l)efore. A decree was instantly passed against the department
of the Ardennes ; fresh commissioners Avere despatched with the same
powers as their predecessors, and with directions to cause the three prisoners
to be liberated. Other commissioners were sent to Dillon's army. On the
morning of the 19th, the Assembly declared Lafayette a traitor to the coun-
try, and passed a deci'ce of accusation against him.
The circumstance was serious, and if this resistance were not overcome,
the new revolution would prove abortive. France, divided between the re-
publicans in the interior and the constitutionalists of the army, would be
exposed to invasion and to a terrible reaction. Lafayette could not but
detect in the revolution of the 10th of August the abolition of the constitution
of 1791, the accomplishment of all his aristocratic prophecies, and the justi-
fication of all the reproaches whicli the court addressed to liberty. In
this victory of democracy he must have beheld nothing but a sanguinary
anarchy and an endless confusion. For us this contusion has had an
end, and our soil at least has l)een defended against foreigners ; but to
Lafayette the future was unknown and alarming; the defence of the soil
■was scarcely to be presumed amidst political convulsions ; and he could
not but feel a desire to withstand this chaos, by arming himself against the
two foes within and without. But his position was beset with diOiculties,
which it would have been beyond the power of any man to surmount. His
army was devoted to him, but armies have no personal will, and cannot
have any but what is communicated to them by the superior authority.
When a revolution bursts forth with the violence of that of 1789, then hur-
ried blindly on, they desert the old authority, because the new impulse is
the stronger of the two. But this was not the case in this instance. La-
fayette, proscribed, stricken by a decree, could not, by his mere military
popularity, excite his troops against the authority of the interior, and by his
personal energy comiteraet the revolutionarv energy of Paris. Placed be-
tween two enemies, and uncertain respecting his duty, he could not but hesitate.
The Assembly, on the contrary, not hesitating, sending decree after decree,
and supporting each by energetic commissioners, coidd not fail to triumph
over the hesitation of the general, and to decide the army. Accordingly,
the troops of liafayette were successively shaken, and appeared to be forsak-
ing him. The <fivd authorities, being intimidated, yielded to the new com-
missioners. The example of Dumouriez, who declared himself in favour
344 HISTORY OF THE
of the revolution of the 10th of August, completed the defection; and the
opposing general was left sftone with his staff, composed of Feuillans or
constitutional otiicers.
Bouille, whose energy was not doubtful, Diimouriez, whose great talents
could not be disputed, could not do otherwise at different periods, and were
obliged to betake themselves to flight. Lafayette was destined to be equally
unfortunate. Writing to the different civil authorities which had seconded
him in his resistance, he took upon himself the responsibility of the orders
issued against the commissioners of the Assembly, and left his camp on the
20th of August, with a few officers, his friends and his companions in arms
and in opinion. He was accompanied by Bureau de Puzy, Latour-Mau-
bourg, and Lameth. They quitted the camp, taking with them only a
month's pay, and were followed by a few servants. Lafayette left every-
thing in order in his army, and had taken care to make the necessary dispo-
sitions in case of attack. He sent back some horse who attended him, that
he might not rob France of one of her defenders ; and, on the 21st, he and
his friends took the road to the Netherlands. On reaching the Austrian ad-
vanced posts, after a journey which exhausted their horses, these first
emigrants of liberty were arrested, contrary to the right of nations, and
treated as prisoners of war. Great was the joy when the name of Lafayette
rang in the camp of the allies, and it was known that he was a captive to
the aristocratic league. To torment one of the first friends of the Revolu-
tion, to have a pretext for imputing to the Revolution itself the persecution
of its first authors, and to behold the fulfilment of all its predicted excesses,
diffused general satisfaction among the European aristocracy.*
Lafayette claimed for himself and his friends that liberty which was their
right, but to no purpose. He was offered it on condition of recanting, not
all his opinions, but only one of them — that relative to the abolition of
nobility. He refused, threatening even in case his words should be falsely
interpreted to give a formal contradiction before a public officer. He there-
fore accepted fetters as the price of his constancy ; and, even when he looked
upon liberty as lost in Europe and in France, his mind continued unshaken,
and he never ceased to consider freedom as the most valuable of blessings.
This he still professed, both towards the oppressors who detained him in
their dungeons, and towards his old friends who remained in France.!
* " Lafayette was under the necessity of observing the greatest secrecy in his departure, in
order to avoid increasing the number of his companions in exile, who consisted only of La-
tour-Maubourg and his two brothers, Bureaux de Puzy, his aides-de-camp, and staff officers
in the Parisian national guard, and some friends, exposed to certain death in consequence
of their participation in his last efforts against anarchy. Fifteen otHcers of different ranks
accompanied him. On arriving at Rochefort, where the party (considerably reduced in num-
ber) were stopped, Bureaux de Puzy was compelled to go forward and obtain a pass from
General Moitelle, in command at Namur. He set out accordingly, but, before he could utter
a syllable of explanation, that general exclaimed, 'What, Lafayette? Lafayette? — Run
instantly and inform the Duke of Bourbon of it — Lafayette 1 — Set out this moment,' address-
ing one of his officers, 'and carry this news to his royal highness at Brussels; and on he
went, muttering to himself the word ' Lafayette.' It was not until he had given orders to
write to all the princes and generals he could think of, that Puzy could put in his request for
a pass, which was of course refused." — Lafayette's Memoirs. E.
j- " However irritated they might be by Lafayette's behaviour at the outset of the Revo-
lution, the present conduct of the monarchs towards him was neither to be vindicated by
morality, the law of nations, nor the rules of sound policy. Even if he had been amenable
for a crime against his own country, we know not what right Austria or Pru-^sia had to take
cognizance of it. To them he was a mere prisoner of war, and nothing further. It is very
seldom that a petty, vindictive line of policy, accords with the real interest, either of great
princes or of private individuals." Scolfs Life of Napoleon. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTIOX. 345
«« Continue," he wrote to the latter, " continue to love liberty, in spite of its
storms, and serve your country." Let us compare this defection with that
of Bouiile, quitting his country to return with the hostile sovereigns ; with
that of Dumouriez, quarrelling, not from conviction but from spite, with the
Convention whom he liad served ; and we shall do justice to the man who
did not leave France till the truth in which he believed was proscribed there,
and who went neither to curse nor to disavow it in the enemy's armies, but
still continued to profess and maintain it in dungeons.
Let us not, however, cast too severe censure on Dumouriez, whose memo-
rable services we shall soon have occasion to appreciate. This flexible and
clever man had a just presentiment of the nascent power. After he had made
himself almost independent by his refusal to obey Luckner, and to leave his
camp at Maulde, after he had refused to take the oath ordered by Dillon, he
was immediately recompensed for his attachment by the chief command of
the armies of the North and the centre. Dillon, brave, impetuous, but
blind, was at first displaced for having obeyed Lafayette ; but he was rein-
stated in his command through the influence of Dumouriez, who, anxious to
reach his goal, and to injure as few persons as possible in his progress, be-
came his warm advocate with the commissioners of the Assembly. Dumou-
riez, therefore, found himself general-in-chief of the whole frontier from
Metz to Dunkirk. Luckner was at Metz, with his army, formerly the army
of the North. Swayed at first by Lafayette, he had shown resistance to the
10th of August; but, soon giving way to his army and to the commissioners
of the Assembly, he acquiesced in the decrees, and after once more weeping,
he yielded to the new impulse that was communicated to him.
The 10th of August and the advance of the season were motives suflicient
to decide the coalition at length to push the war with vigour. The disposi-
tions of the powers in regard to France were not changed. England, Hol-
land, Denmark, and Switzerland, still promised a strict neutrality. Sweden,
since the death of Gustavus, had sincerely adopted a similar course. The
Italian principalities were most inimical to us, but fortunately quite impotent.
Spain had not yet spoken out, but continued to be distracted by conflicting
intrigues. Thus there Avere left, as decided enemies, Russia and the two
principal courts of Germany. But Russia as yet went no further than un-
friendly demonstrations, and confined herself to sending away our ambassa-
dor. Prussia and Austria alone carried their arms to our frontiers. Among
the German states tliere were Init the three ecclesiastical electors, and the
landgraves of the two Hesses, that had taken an active part in the coalition.
The others waited till they should be compelled to do so. In this state of
things, one hundred and thirty-eight thousand men, excellently organized
and disciplined, threatened France, which could oppose to them at the
utmost but one hundred and twenty thousand, spread over an immense
frontier, not forming a sufficient mass at any point, deprived of their officers,
feeling no confidence in themselves or their leaders, and having as yet
experienced nothing but checks in the war of posts which tiny had
maintained.
The plan of the coalition was to invade France boldly, penetrating by tlie
Ardennes, and proceeding by Chalons towards Paris. The two sovereiffns
of Prussia and Austria had repaired in person to Mayence. Sixty thousand
Prussians, heirs to the traditions and the glory of the great Frederick, ad-
vanced in a single column upon our centre. They marched by Luxembourg
upon Longwy. '^wenty thousand Austrians, commanded by General Clair-
fayt, supported them on the right by occupying Stenay. Sixteen thousand
VOL. I. 4-i
346 HISTORY OF THE
Austrians, commanded by the Prince of Hohenlohe-Kirchberg, and ten
tliousand Hessians, flanked the left of the Prussians, The Duke of Saxe-
Teschen occupied the Netherlands and threatened the fortresses. The Prince
of Conde, with six thousand French emigrants, had proceeded towards
Philipsbourg. , Several other corps of emigrants were attached to the difl'erent
Prussian and Austrian armies. The foreign courts which, in collecting the
emigrants, were still desirous to prevent their acquiring too much influence,
had at first intended to blend them with the German regiments, but had at
length consented to suffer them to form distinct corps, yet distributed among
the allied armies. These corps were full of officers who had condescended
to become privates, and they formed a brilliant body of cavalry, which, how-
ever, was more capable of displaying great valour on the day of peril, than
of supporting a long campaign.
The French armies were disposed in the most unsuitable manner for
withstanding such a mass of forces. Three generals, Beurnonville, Moreton,
and Duval, commanded a total of thirty thousand men in three separate
camps, Maulde, Maubeuge, and Lille. These were the whole of the French
resources on the frontier of the North and of the Low Countries. Lafay-
ette's army, twenty-three thousand strong, disorganized by the departure of
its general, and weakened by the utmost uncertainty of sentiment, was en-
camped at Sedan. Dumouriez was going to take the command of it.
Luckner's army, composed of twenty thousand men, occupied Metz, and,
like all the others, had just had a new general given to it, namely, Keller-
mann.* The Assembly, dissatisfied withLuckner, had nevertheless resolved
not to dismiss him ; but whilst transferring his command to Kellermann, it
had assigned to him, with the title of generalissimo, the duty of organizing
the new army of reserve, and the purely honorary function of counselling the
generals. There remain to be mentioned Custine, who with fifteen thousand
men occupied Landau, and lastly, Biron, who, posted in Alsace with thirty
thousand men, was too far from the principal theatre of the war, to influence
the issue of the campaign.
The only two corps placed on the track pursued by the grand army of the
allies, were the twenty-three thousand men forsaken by Lafayette, and Kel-
lermann's twenty thousand stationed around Metz. If the grand invading
army, conforming its movements to its object, had marched rapidly upon
Sedan, while the troops of Lafayette, deprived of their general, were a prey
to disorder, and, not having yet been joined by Dumouriez, were without
unity and without direction, the principal defensive corps would have been
overwhelmed, the Ardennes would have been opened, and the other generals
would have been obliged to fall back rapidly for the purpose of concentrating
themselves behind the Marne. Perhaps they would not have had time to
come from Lille and Metz to Chalons and Rheims. In this case Paris
would have been uncovered, and the new government would have had
nothing left but the absurd scheme of a camp below Paris, or flight beyond
the Loire.
But if France defended herself with all the disorder of a revolution, the
* " Kellermann, a French general, began life as a private hussar, but was soon promoted
for his skill and good conduct. In 1792 he obtained the command of the army of the Moselle,
and distinguished himself at the battle of Valmy. In 1794 he was brought before the revolu-
tionary tribunal, but acquitted. In 1799 he became a member of the consular senate ; in 1802
he obtained the title of grand officer of the Legion of Honour ; and, soon afterwards, was
raised to the rank of marshal of the empire. He was father of the celebrated Kellermann,
whose glorious charge decided the battle of Marengo." — Biographic Moderne. E.
FREXCH REVOLUTION. 347
foreign powers attacked with all tlie uncertainty and discordance of views
that characterize a coalition. The King of Prussia, intoxicated with the
idea of an easy conquest, flattered and deceived hy the emigrants, who repre-
sented the invasion to him as a mere military promenade, wished it to be
conducted with the holdest expedition. But tiiere was still too much pru-
dence at his side, in the Duke of Brunswick, to allow his presumption to
have at least the happy eflect of audacity and promptness. The Duke of
Brunswick, who saw that the season was far advanced, the country very
diflerently disposed from wluu the emigrants had represented, who, more-
over, judged of the revolutionary energy by the insurrection of tiie 10th of
August, thought that it would be better to secure a solid base of operations
on the Moselle, by laying siege to Metz and Thionville, and deferring till
the next spring the recommencement of the war with the advantage of the
preceding conquests. This struggle between the precipitancy of the sove-
reign and the prudence of the general, and the tardiness of the Austrians,
who sent under the command of Prince Hohenlohe but eighteen thousand
men instead of fiftv, prevented any decisive movement. The Prussian army,
however, continued to march towards the centre, and was, on the 20th, be-
fore Longwy, one of the most advanced fortresses of that frontier.
Dumouriez, who had always been of opinion that an invasion of the
Netherlands would cause a revolution to break out there, and that this diver-
sion would save France from the attacks of Germany, had made every pre-
paration for advancing ever since the day on Avhicli he received his commission
as general-in-chief of the two armies, lie was already on the point of taking
the offensive against the Prince of Saxe-Teschen, when Westermann, who
had been so active on the 10th of August, and was afterwards sent as com-
missioner to the army of Lafayette, came to inform him of what was passing
on the theatre of the great invasion. On the 22d, Longwy liad opened its
gates to the Prussians, after a bombardment of a few liours, in consequence
of the disorder of the garrison and tlie weakness of the commandant. Elated
with this conquest, and the capture of Lafayette, the Prussians were more
favourably disposed than ever towards the plan of a prompt oflensive. The
army of Lafayette would be undone if the new general did not go to inspire
it Avith confidence by his presence, and to direct its movements in a useful
manner.
Dumouriez, therefore, relinquished his favourite plan, and repaired on the
25lh, or 2Gtli, to Sedan, where his presence at first excited nothintj- but ani-
mosity and reproaches among the troops. He was the enemy of Lafayette,
who was still beloved by them. He was, moreover, supposed to be the
author of that unhappy war, because it had been declared during his adminis-
tration. Lastly, he was considered as a man possessing much greater skill
in the use of the pen than of the sword. 'J'his language was in the mouths
of all the soldiers, and frecjuendv readied the car of the jreneral. He was
not disconcerted by it. He began by cheering the troops, by affecting a firm
and tranquil countenance, and soon made them aware of the influence of a
more vigorous command.* Still the siluation of twenty-throe thousand
disorganized men, in presence of eighty tliousand in a state of die highest
discipline, was most discouraging. The Prussians, after taking Longwy,
* " Dumouriez, who up to this time had played but a subordinate military part, very much
surpassed any cxpeotalioii that i-ould have been formed of liiin. He displayed a szreat deal of
talent and enlarEfed views; and for some Hule time his patriotism was estimated by his suc-
cess." — Lufuydtes Memoirs. E.
348 HISTORY OF THE
had blockaded Thionville, and were advancing npon Verdun, which was
much less capable of resistance than the fortress of Longwy.
The generals, called together by Dumouriez, were all of opinion that they
onglit not to wait for the Prussians at Sedan, but to retire rapidly behind the
Marne, to intrench themselves there in the best manner possible, to wait for
the junction of the other armies, and thus cover the capital, which would be
but forty leagues distant from the enemy. They all thought that, if they
should suffer a defeat in attempting to resist the invasion, the overthrow
would be complete, that the discomfited army would not stop between Sedan
and Paris, and that the Prussians would march directly thither at a conque-
ror's pace. Such was our military situation, and the opinion which our
generals entertained of it.
The notions formed at Paris on the subject were not more favourable, and
the irritation increased with the danger. Meanwhile that immense capital
which had never seen an enemy in its bosom, and which formed an idea of
its strength proportionate to its extent and population, could scarcely con-
ceive it possible for a foe to penetrate within its walls. It had much less
dread of the military peril, which it did not perceive, and which was still at
a distance from it, than the peril of a reaction on the part of the royalists,
who were quelled for the moment. Whilst on the frontiers the generals saw
nothing but the Prussians ; in the interior, people saw nothing but the aris-
tocrats secretly conspiring to destroy liberty. They said that, to be sure,
the King was a prisoner, but his party nevertheless existed, and that it was
conspiring, as before the 10th of August, to open Paris to the foreigners.
They figured to themselves all the great houses in the capital filled with
armed assemblages, ready to sally forth at the first signal, to deliver Louis
XVI., to seize the chief authority, and to consign France, without defence,
to the sword of the emigrants and of the allies. This correspondence be-
tween the internal and the external enemy, engrossed all minds. It behoves
us, it was said, to rid ourselves of traitors ; and already the horrible idea of
sacrificing the vanquished was conceived — an idea which, with the majority,
was only a movement of imagination, but which, by some few only, either
more bloodthirsty, more hotheaded, or more powerfully impelled to action,
could be converted into a real and meditated plan.
We have already seen that it was proposed to avenge the people for the
blows inflicted upon them on the 10th, and that a violent quarrel had arisen
between the Assembly and the commune, on the subject of the extraordinary
tribunal. This tribunal, to wliich Dangremont and the unfortunate Laporte,
intendant of the civil list, had already fallen victims, did not act with sufii-
cient despatch according to the notions of a furious and heated populace,
who beheld enemies on every side. It demanded forms more expeditious
for punishing traitors, and, above all, it insisted on the trial of the persons
transferred to the high court at Orleans. These were, for the most part,
ministers and high fnnctionaries, accused, as we have seen, of malversation.
Delessart, minister for foreign afiairs, was among the number. Outcries
were raised on all sides against tlie tardiness of the proceedings ; the removal
of the prisoners to Paris, and their immediate trial by the tribunal of the
17th of August, were required. The Assembly, being consulted on tliis
point, or rather summoned to comply with the general wish, and to pass a
decree for the transfer, had made a courageous resistance. The hia-h national
court was, it alleged, a constitutional establishment, which it could not
change, because it did not possess the constituent powers, and because it
was the right of every accused person to be tried only according to anterior
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 349
laws. This question had been raised afresh by hosts of petitioners ; and
the Assembly had at once to resist an ardent minority, the commune, and
the tumultuous sections. It had merely accelerated some of the formalities
of the proceedings, but decreed that the persons accused before the high
court should remain at Orleans, and not be withdrawn from the jurisdiction
which the constitution had insured to them.
Thus, then, two opinions were formed : one which held that it was right
to spare the vanquished without exerting less energy against foreigners ; the
other, which insisted that all secret enemies ought to be sacrificed, before
people went to meet the armed enemies who were advancing towards Paris.
This latter was not so much an opinion as a blind and ferocious sentiment,
compounded of fear and rage, and which was destined to increase with the
danger.
The Parisians were the more irritated the greater was the peril for their
city — the focus of all tlie insurrections, and the principal goal to wliich the
inarch of the hostile armies tended. They accused the Assembly, composed
of deputies of the departments, of an intention to retire to the provinces.
The Girondins, in particular, who chiefly belonged to the provinces of the
South, and formed that moderate majority which was odious to the com-
mune, were accused of a wish to sacrifice the capital, out of hatred to it.
In this instance a sentiment was attributed to them which they would have
been justified in harbouring. But the greater number of them loved their
country and their cause too sincerely to think of leaving Paris. They had,
it is true, always been of opinion that, if the North were lost, they could
fall back upon the South ; and, at this very moment, some of them deemed
it prudent to remove the scat of government to the other side of the Loire ; but
no such desire as to sacrifice a hated city and to transfer the government to
places where they would be its masters, ever entered their hearts. They
were too high-minded, they were moreover still too powerful, and they
reckoned too much on the meeting of the approaching Convention, to think
so soon of forsaking Paris.
Thus they were charged at once with indulgence towards traitors and with
indifference to the interests of the capital. Having to contend with the most
violent men, they could do no other, even though they had numbers and
reason on their side, than succumb to the activity and the energy of their
adversaries. In the executive council they were five to one, for, besides the
three ministers, Servan, Clavieres, and Roland, selected from among them,
the last two, Monge and Lebrun, were likewise of their choice. Rut Dan-
ton, who, without being their personal enemy, had neither their moderation
nor their opinions — Danton* singly, swayed the council and deprived them
of all influence. ^Vhile Clavieres Avas striving to collect some financial re-
sources, Servan bestirring himself to procure reinforcements for the generals,
and Roland despatching the most discreet circulars to enlighten the pro-
vinces, to direct the local authorities, to prevent their encroachments on
power, and to check violence of every kind, Danton was busily engaged in
placing all his creatures in the administration. He sent his faithfid Corde-
liers to all parts, and thus attached to himself numerous supporters, and pro-
• " Roland and Clavieres formed a sort of party in the council, and were supported by
Brissot and the Bordeaux members in the AsscmMy, and by Potion and Manuel in the mu-
nicipality. Servan, Monge, and Lebrun, dared not have an opinion of their own. But the
man among them who struck the greatest terror — the man who, with a frown or a single
glance of his scowliiig eye, made all his colleagues tremble — was Danton, minister in the
law department. Ttfrror was the weapon he employed." — rdticr. E.
2Gr
350 HISTORY OF THE
cured for his friends a share in the profits of the Revohuion. Influencing
or alanniug his colleagues, he found no obstacle but in the inflexible princi-
ples of Roland, who frequently refused assent to the measures or subjects
which he proposed. Danton was vexed at this, though he did not break
with Roland, and he strove to carry as many appointments or decisions as
he possibly could.
Danton, whose real sway was in Paris, was anxious to retain it, and fully
determined to prevent any removal beyond the Loire. Endued with extra-
ordinary boldness, having proclaimed the insurrection on the night preceding
the 10th of August, when every one else still hesitated, he was not a man to
recede, and he thought that it behoved him and his colleagues to sacrifice
themselves in the capital. Master of the council, connected with Marat
and the committee oi surveillance of the commune, haranguing in all tiie
clubs, living, in short, amidst the mob, as in an element which he agitated
at pleasure, Danton was the most powerful man in Paris ; and that power,
founded on a violent disposition, which brought him in contact with the pas-
sions of the people, could not but be formidable to the vanquished. In his
revolutionary ardour, Danton inclined to all the ideas of vengeance which
the Girondins repelled. He was the leader of that Parisian party which
said of itself, " ^Ve will not recede. We will perish in the capital and be-
neath its ruins, but our enemies shall perish before us." Thus \vere lior-
rible sentiments engendered in minds, and horrible scenes were soon to be
their frightful consequences.
On the 26th, the tidings of the capture of Longwy spread with rapidity
and caused a general agitation in Paris. People disputed all day on its pro-
bability ; at length it could be no longer contested, and it became known that
the place had opened its gates after a bombardment of a few hours. Tlie
ferment excited was such that the Assembly decreed the penalty of death
against any one who should propose to surrender in a besieged place. On
the demand of the commune, it was decreed that Paris and the neiglibouring
departments should furnish, within a few days, thirty thousand men armed
and equipped. The prevailing enthusiasm rendered it easy to raise this
number, and the number served to dispel the apprehensions of danger. It
was impossible to suppose that one hundred thousand Prussians could sub-
due several millions of men who were determined to defend themselves.
The works at the camp near Paris were carried on witli renewed activity,
and the women assembled in the churches to assist in preparing necessaries
for the encampment.
Danton repaired to the commune, and at his suggestion recourse was had
to extreme means. It was resolved to make a list of all the indigent per-
sons in the sections, and to give them pay and arms. It was moreover
determined to disarm and apprehend all suspicious persons ; and all who
had signed the petition against the 20th of June, and against the decree for
the camp below Paris, were reputed such. In order to effect this disarming
and apprehension, tlie plan of domiciliary visits was conceived and executed
in the most frightful manner.* The barriers were to be closed for forty-
* "liCt the roatler fancy to liimself a vast metropolis, the streets of which were a few days
before alive with the concourse of carriages, and with citizens constantly passing and repass-
ing — let him fancy to himself, I say, streets so populous and so animated, suddenly struck
with the dead silence of the grave, before sunset, on a fine summer evening. All the shops
are shut ; everybody retires into the interior of his house, trembling for life and property ; ail
are in fearful expectation of the events of a night in which even the efforts of despair are not
likely to afford the least resource to any individual. The sole object of the domiciliary visits,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 351
'^iglit hours, from the evening of the 29lh, and no pcnnissinn to leave the
eiiy upon any account whatever was to be granted. Guard-ships were sta-
tioned on the river to prevent any escape by that outlet. The surrounding
communes were directed to stop every person they should find in tlie lields
or on the roads. The drum was to announce the visits, and at tliis signal
every person was required to repair to his home, upon pain of being treated
as one suspected of seditiously assembling, if found in tlie house of another.
For this reason, all the sectional assemblies, and the great tribunal itself,
were to suspend their meetings for those two days. Commissioners of the
commune, assisted by the armed force, were empowered to pay these visits,
to seize arms, and to apprehend suspected persons, tliat is to say, the signers
of all the petitions already mentioned, the nonjuring priests, such citizens as
should be guilty of falsehood in their declarations, those against vv-hom there
were denunciations, (fee. At ten o'clock in the evening, the streets were to
be cleared of all carriages, and the city was to be illuminated during the
whole niglit.
Such were the measures adopted for the purpose of apprehending, it was
said, the bad cAtizens who had concealed themselves since the lOth of Au-
gust. These visits were begun on the evening of the 29ih, and one party,
incurring the deminciation of another, was liable to I)e tiirown into the pri-
sons. All who had belonged to the late court, either by office, or by rank,
or by attendance at tlie palace — all who had declared themselves in its favour
during the various royalist movements — all who had base enemies, capable
of revenging themselves by a denunciation, were consigned to the prisons,
to the number of twelve or fifteen thousand persons ! It was the committee
of surveillance of the commune which superintended these apprehensions,
and caused them to be executed before its eyes. Those who were appre-
hended were first taken from their abode to the committee of their section,
and from tliis committee to that of the commune. There they were briefly
questioned respecting their sentiments and the acts which proved their
greater or less energy They were frequentlv examined by a single member
of the committee, while the otlier members, exhausted with watcliing for
several successive days and nights, were sleeping upon the chairs or the
tables. The persons apprehended were at first carried to the Hotel de Ville,
and afterwards distributed among tlie different prisons, in which any room
was left. Here were confined all the advocates of those various opinions
which had succeeded one another till the lOlh of August, all the ranks which
it is prctendetl, is to search for arms, yet the barriers are shut and guarded with the strictest
vigilance, and boats are stationed on the river, at regular distances, filled with armed men.
Every one supposes himself to be informed against. Everywhere persons and property are
put into concealment. I'^vcryvvhere are heard the interrupted sounds of the muffled hammer,
with cautious knock completing the hiding-place. Roofs, garrets, sinks, chimneys — all are
just the same to fear, ini-ajiable of calculating any risk. One man, s()ucezed up behind the
wainscot which has been nailed back on him, seems to form a part of the wall ; another is
sufl'ocated with fear and heat between two mattresses ; a third, rolled up in a cask, loses all
sense of existence by the tension of his sinews. Apprehension is stronger than pain. Men
tremble, but they do not shed tears; the heart shivers, the eye is dull, and the breast con-
tracted. Women, on this occasion, disjilav prodigies of tenderness and intrepidity. It was
hy them that most of the men were concealed. It was one o'clock in the morning when the
domiciliary visits began. Patroles, consisting of sixty pikemen, were in every street. The
nocturnal tumult of so many armed men ; the incessant knocks to make people o])en their
doors; the crash of those that were burst olV their hinges; and the continual uproar and
revelling which took ^)lacc throughout the night in nil the public-houses, formed a picture
which will never be eliiiccd from my memory." — I'dlitr, E.
352 HISTORY OF THE
had been overthrown, and plain tradesmen, who were already deemed as
great aristocrats as dukes and princes.
Terror pervaded all Paris. It prevailed alike among the republicans
threatened by the Prussian armies, and among the royalists threatened by
the republicans. The committee oi general defence, appointed by the As-
sembly to consider of the means of resisting the enemy, met on the 30th,
and solicited the attendance of the executive council for the purpose of de-
liberating with it on the means of the public welfare. The meeting was
numerous, because the members of the committee were joined by a multitude
of deputies who wished to be present at this sitting. Various plans were
suggested. Servan, the minister, had no confidence in the armies, and did
not think it possible for Dumouriez to stop the Prussians with the twenty-
three thousand men left him by Lafayette. He conceived that, between
them and Paris, there was no position of sufficient strength to make head
against them and to check their march. All coincided with him on this
point, and, after it had been proposed that the whole population in arms
should be collected under the walls of Paris, in order to combat there with
desperation, it was suggested that the Assembly should retire, in case of
emergency, to Saumur, to place a wider space and fresh obstacles between
the enemy and the depositaries of the national sovereignty. Vergniaud
and Guadet opposed the idea of quitting Paris. They were followed by
Danton.
"It is proposed," said he, "that you should quit Paris. You are well
aware that, in the opinion of the enemy, Paris represents France, and that
to cede this point is to abandon the Revolution to them. If we give way
we are undone. We must, therefore, maintain our ground by all possible
means, and save ourselves by audacity.
" Among the means proposed none seems to me decisive. We must not
disguise from ourselves the situation in which we are placed by the 10th of
August. It has divided us into royalists and republicans. The former are
very numerous, the latter far from it. In this state of weakness, we repub-
licans are exposed to two fires — tliat of the enemy placed without, and that
of the royalists placed within. There is a royal directory, which holds
secret meetings at Paris, and corresponds witli the Prussian army. To tell
you where it assembles, and of whom it is composed, is not in the power
of the ministers. But to disconcert it, and to prevent its baneful corres-
pondence with foreigners, we must — we must strike terror into the
royalists.''^
At these words, accompanied by a gesture betokening extermination,
horror overspread every face.
" I tell you," resumed Danton, "you must sti-ike terror into the royalists.
.... It is in Paris above all that it behoves you to stand your ground,
and it is not by wasting yourselves in uncertain combats that you will suc-
ceed in doing so." A stupor instantly pervaded the Assembly. Not a
word more was added to this speech, and every one retired, without fore-
seeing precisely, without daring even to penetrate, the measures contemplated
by the minister.
He repaired immediately to the committee of surveillance of the commune,
which disposed with sovereign authority of the persons of all the citizens,
and over which Marat reigned. The blind and ignorant colleasfues of Marat
were Panis and Sergent, already conspicuous on tlie 20th of June and the
10th of August, and four others, named Jourdeuil, Duplain, Lefort, and
Lenfant. There, in the night between the 30th and the 31st of August,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 353
horrible plans were meditated against the unfortunate persons .confined in the
prisons of Paris, Deplorable and dreadful instance of political excitement!
Danton, who was known never to harbour hatred ai^ainst personal enemies,
and to be frequently accessible to pity, lent his audacity to the atrocious
reveries of Marat. They two hatched a plot, of which several centuries
have furnished examples, but which, at the conclusion of the eighteenth,
cannot be explained by the ignorance of tlie times and the ferocity of man-
ners. We have seen, three years before this, a man named Maillard* ligur-
ing at the head of the female insurgents on the famous days of the 5tli and
6th of October. This Maillard, who had been usher to a court of justice,
an intelligent but bloodthirsty man, had formed a band of low desperadoes
fit for any enterprise ; such, in short, as are to be found in tliose classes
where education has not purified the passions by enlightening the under-
standing. He was known as the leader of tliis band, and, if we may credit
a recent revelation, he received notice to hold himself in readiness to act
upon the first signal, to place himself where he could strike with efTect
and certainty, to prepare bludgeons, to take precautions for preventing the
cries of the victims, to procure vinegar, holly brooms, quick lime, covered
carts, &c.
From that moment vague rumours of a terrible execution were circulated.
The relatives of the prisoners were upon the rack, and the plot, like tliat of
the 10th of August, the 20th of June, and all the others, was foreshown by
portentous signs. On all sides it was repeated that it was requisite to over-
awe by a single example the conspirators, who, in the recesses of the prisons,
were corresponding with foreigners. People complained of the tardiness of
the tribunal instituted to punisli the culprits of tlie 10th of August, and with
loud cries demanded speedy justice. On the 31st, Montmorin the late
minister, was acquitted by the tribunal of the 17th of August, and reports
Avere spread that tliere was treachery everywhere, and that impunity was
insured to the guilty. On the same day, it was alleged that a condemned
person had made some revelations, the purport of which was that in the night
the prisoners were to break out of the dungeons, to arm and disperse them-
selves tlirough tlie city, to wreak horrible vengeance upon it, and then to
carry off the King, and throw open Paris to the Prussians. The prisoners
who were thus accused were nu'anwhile trembling for tlieir lives; their rela-
tives were in deep consternation ; and the royal family expected nothing but
death in the tower of the Temple.
At the Jacobins, in tlie sections, in the council of the commune, in the
minority of the Assembly were great numbers of persons who believed these
preteudcHl plots, and dared to declare it lawful to exterminate the prisoners.
Assuredly nature does not form so many monsters for a single day, and it is
party-spirit alone tliat leads astray so many men at once I Sad lesson for
nations I People believe in dangers ; they persuade themselves that they
ought to repel them ; they repeat this ; they work themselves up into a
frenzy ; and, while some proclaim with levity that a blow must be struck,
others strike with sanguinary audacity.
• " Maillard, a runner brlonf^insT to the Chatelot at Paris, began, from the oponiniT of the
States-general, to signalize himself in all the tumults of tliC metropolis. In t>eplember, 1792,
he presided in the meeting at the Abbaye to regulate the massacre of the prisoners ; and it
has been said that he seized on the spoils of those who were murdered by his order. He
afterwards became one of the denunciators of the prisons, and, during the Reign of Terror,
appeared several tiinesv-at La Force, to mark the victims who were to be coi)deained by the
revolutionary tribunal.'' — Biographic Moderne. E.
VOL. I. — 45 2 a 2
354 HISTORY OF THE
On Saturday, the 1st of September, the forty-eight hours fixed for tlie
closing of the barriers and the execution of the domiciliary visits having
elapsed, the communications were re-established. Bat, in the course of the
day, all at once a rumour of the taking of Verdun was circulated. Verdun,
however, was only invested; still it was believed that the place was cap-
tured, and that a fresh treachery had delivered it up like the fortress of
Longvvy. Under the influence of Danton, the commune immediately re-
solved that, on the following day, September the 2d, the generate sliould be
beaten, the tocsin rung, and alarm-guns fired, and that all the disposable
citizens should repair armed to the Champ de Mars, encamp there for the
remainder of the day, and set out on the next for Verdun. From these terri-
ble preparations it became evident that something very diff'erent from a levy
en masise was contemplated. Relatives hastened to make eiforts to obtain
the enlargement of the prisoners. Manuel, the procKreur syndic, at the
solicitation of a generous woman liberated, it is said, two female prisoners
of the family of Latremouille. Another lady, Madame Fausse-Lendry, im-
portunately solicited permission to accompany her uncle, the Abbe de Ras-
tignac, in his captivity. " You are very imprudent," replied Sergent; " ?/<e
prisons are not safe.''''
Next day, the 2d of September, was Sunday, and the suspension of labour
increased the popular tumult. Numerous assemlilages were formed in dif-
ferent places, and a report was spread that the enemy was likely to be at
Paris in three days. The commune informed the Assembly of the measures
which it had taken for the levy en masse of the citizens. Vergniaud, fired
with patriotic enthusiasm, immediately rose, complimented the Parisians on
their courage, and praised them for having converted the zeal for motions
into a more active and useful zeal — the zeal for combat. " It appears,"
added he, " that the plan of the enemy is to march direct to the capital,
leaving the fortress behind him. Let him do so. This course will be our
salvation and his ruin. Our armies, too weak to withstand him, will be strong
enough to harass him in the rear ; and when he arrives, pursued by our bat-
talions, he will find himself face to face with our Parisian army, drawn up in
battle array under the walls of the capital; and there, surrounded on all sides,
he will be swallowed up by that soil which he had profaned. But, amidst
these flattering hopes there is a danger which ought not to be disguised, that
of panic terrors. Our enemies reckon upon them, and distribute gold in order
to produce them ; and well you know it, there are men made up of so soft a
clay as to be decomposed at the idea of the least danger. I wish we could
pick out this species without souls, but with human faces, and collect all the
individuals belonging to it in one town, Longwy, for instance, Avhich should
be called the town of cowards : and there, objects of general contempt, they
would communicate their own fears to their fellow-citizens alone ; they Avould
no longer cause dwarfs to be mistaken for giants, and the dust flying before
a company of Hulans, for armed battalions.
" Parisians, it is high time to display all your energy ! Why are not the
intrenchments of the camp more advanced ? Where are the pickaxes, the
spades, which raised the altar of the Federation, and levelled the Champ de
Mars ? You have manifested great ardour for festivities : surely you will
not show less for batUe. You have sung — you have celebrated liberty. You
must now defend it. We have no longer to overthrow kinffs of bronze, but
living kings, armed with all their power. I move, therefore, that the National
Assembly set the first example, and send twelve commissioners, not to make
exhortations, Init to labour themselves, to wield tlie spade with their own
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 355
hands, in the sight of all the citizens." This suggestion was adopted with
the utmost enthusiasm.
Danton followed Vergniaud. He communicated the measures which had
been taken, and proposed new ones. " One portion of the people," said he,
" is about to proceed to the frontiers, anotlier is going to throw up intrench-
ments, and the third, witli pikes, will defend the interior of our cities. But
this is not enough. Commissioners and couriers must be sent forth to all
parts, to induce the whole of France to imitate Paris. A decree must be
passed, which shall make it obligatory on every citizen to serve in person, or
to give up his arms. The gun," added Danton, " which you will presendy
hear, is not the alarm-gun ; it is the cliarge against the enemies of the country.
What need we, in order to conquer — to annihilate them? Courage! again
courage, and nothing but courage T'
The words and gestures of the minister made profound impression on all
present. His motion was adopted. He retired and went to the committee
of surveillance. All the authorities, all the bodies, the Assembly, the com-
mune, the sections, the Jacobins, were sitting. The ministers, wlio had met
at the hotel of the marine, were waiting for Danton to hold a council. The
Avhole city was in motion. Profound terror pervaded the prisons. At the
Temple, the royal family, to which any commotion threatened more serious
consequences than to the other prisoners, anxiously inquired the cause of
all this perturliation. The gaolers at the different prisons betrayed alarm.
The keeper of the Abbaye had sent away his wife and children in die morn-
ing. The prisoners' dinner had been served up two hours before the usual
time, and all the knives had been taken away from their napkins. Struck
by these circumstances, they had earnestly inquired the cause of their keep-
ers, who would not give any explanation. Al length, at two o'clock, the
generale began to beat, the tocsin rang, and the alarm-gun thundered in the
capital. Troops of citizens repaired to the Champ de Mars. Others sur-
rounded die commune and the Assembly, and filled the public places.
There were at the Hotel de Ville twenty-four priests, who, having been
apprehended on account of their refusal to take the oath, were to he removed
to the liall of the depot to the prisons of the Abbaye. Whether purposely
or accidentally, diis moment was chosen for their removal. They were placed
in six hackney-coaches, and escorted by Breton and Marseilles federalists,
they were conveyed, at a slow pace, towards the faux1)ourg St. Germain,
along the quays, over the Pont Neuf, and through the Rue Dauphine. They
were surrounded and loaded with abuse. " There," said the federalists,
*' are the conspirators, who meant to murder our Avives and children while
we were on the frontiers !" 'I'hese words increased the tumult. The doors
of the coaches were open: the unfortunate persons within strove to shut
them, in order to screen themselves from the ill usage to which they were
exposed ; but, being prevented, Uiey were obliged to endure blows and abuse
with patience.
At length they reached the court of the Abbaye, where an immense crowd
was already collected. That court led to the prisons, and comnnmicateJ
with die hall in which the committee of the section of the Quutre-Nations
held its meetings. The first coach, on driving up to the door of the hall,
was sm-rounded by a furioiis rabble. Maillard was present. The door
opened. 'i"he first of the prisoners ste])ped forward to alight and to enter
Uie hall, but was immediately pierced by a thousand weapons. 'I'he
second threw himself back in the carriage, but was dragged forth by main
force, and slauglilefed like Uie preceding. The other two sliared the same
356
HISTORY OF THE
fate ; and their murderers left the first coach to go to those which followed.
They came up one after another into the fatal court, and the last of the
twenty-four priests,* was despatched amidst the howls of an infuriated
populace.
At this moment Billaud-Varennest arrived, a member of the council of the
commune, and the only one of the organizers of these massacres, who dared
with cruel intrepidity to encounter the sight of them, and constantly to de-
fend them. He came, wearing his scarf. Walking in the blood, and over
the corpses, he addressed the crowd of murderers, " Good people," said
he, "you sacrifice your enemies; you do your duty." Anodier voice was
raised after Billaud's. It was tliat of Maillard. " There is noticing more
to do here," cried he; " let us go to the Carmelites." His band followed
him, and away they posted all togellier towards the church of the Carmel-
ites, in which two hundred priests liad been confined. They broke into the
church, and butchered the unfortunate priests, who prayed to Heaven, and
embraced each other at the approach of death. They called with loud shouts
for the Archbishop of Aries ; j diey sought for, and despatched him with the
stroke of a sword upon the skull. After using their swords, they employed
fire-arms, and discharged volleys into the rooms and the garden, at the tops
of the walls and the trees, where some of the victims sought to escape
their fury.
During the completion of the massacre at the Carmelites, Maillard re-
turned with part of his followers to the Abbaye. Covered with blood and
perspiration, lie went in to the committee of the section of the Quatre-Na-
tious, and asked for wine for the brave labourers tvho were delivering the
nation from its enemies. The committee shuddered, and granted them
twenty-four quarts.
The wine was poured out in the court at tables surrounded by the corpses
of the persons murdered in the afternoon. After it was drunk, Maillard, of
a sudden pointing to the prison, cried, To the Abbaye! At these words,
his gang followed him and attacked the door. The trembling prisoners heard
the yells — the signal for their death ! The gaoler and his wife disappeared.
The doors were thrown open. The first of the prisoners who were met
with were seized, dragged forth by the legs, and their bleeding bodies thrown
* With one exception only, the Abbe Sicard, who miraculously escaped.
■j" " Billaud-Varennes was born at Rochelle, which place he quitted several years before the
Revolution, at the age of twenty-three, from vexation that the people there had hissed a the-
atrical piece of his composition. He then went to Paris, where he got hims'lf admitted a
barrister, and married a natural daughter of M. de Verdun, the only one of the farmers-gene-
ra! who was not guillotined. In 1792, he was substitute for the attorney of the commune
of Paris, and became one of the directors of the September massacres. In 1795, he was
sentenced to banishment to Guiana, where he was looked upon by the people as little better
than a wild beast. His principal occupation, during his exile, was to breeding parrots. Bil-
laud Varennes was the author of many dull pamphlets." — Biographic Maderne. E.
t " When the assassins got to the chapel, they called, with loud cries, the Archbishop of
Aries. ' Are you heV said one of them, addressing this venerable and virtuous prelate. ' Yes,
gentlemen, I am.' — ' Ah, wretch,' replied the fellow, ' it is you who caused the blood of the
patriots of Aries to be spilt,' and, with these words, the ruffian aimed a blow of his hanger
at the prelate's forehead. He received it unmoved. A second dreadful gash was given him
in the face. A third blow brought him to the ground, where he rested on his left hand with-
out uttering a single murmur. While he lay thus, one of the assassins plunged his pike into
his breast with such violence that the iron part stuck there. The ruffian then jumped on the
prelate's palpitating body, trampled upon it, and tore away his watch. Thus fell that amiable
archbishop, just within the chapel, at the foot of the altar, and of the cross of our Saviour,"
—Ftltier. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 357
into the court. "While the first comers were thus indiscriminately slaugh-
tered, Maillard and his band demanded the keys of the different prisons.
One of them, advancing towards tlie door of the wicket, mounted upon a
stool and harangued the mob. " My friends," said he, " you wish to destroy
the aristocrats, who are the enemies of the people, and who meant to murder
vour wives and children while you were at the frontiers. You are right, no
doubt; but you are good citizens ; you love justice; and you would be very
sorry to steep your hands in innocent blood." — " Yes, certainly," cried tiie
executioners. — " Well, then, let me ask, when you are determined, with.oal
listening to any remonstrance, to rush like furious tigers upon men w!io are
strangers to you, are you not liable to confound the innocent with the guilty ?"
The speaker was interrupted by one of the bystanders, who, armed with a
sword, cried in his turn, '• What ! do you want to lull us to sleep, too ? If
the Prussians and the Austrians were at Paris, would they strive to distin-
guish the guilty ? I have a wife and family, and will not leave them in dan-
ger. Give arms, if you please, to the?e scoundrels. We will fight tliem
man to man, and before we set out Paris shall be cleared of them." — " He
is right; we must go in," said the others, and they rushed forward. They
•were stopped, however, and obliged to assent to a kind of trial. It was
agreed that they should take a list of the prisoners, that one of them should
act as president, read the names and the causes of detention, and imme-
diately pronounce sentence on each prisoner. " Maillard ! Let Maillard
be president !" cried out several voices : and forthwith he assumed the office.
This terrible president seated himself at a table, placed before him a list of
the prisoners, called around him a few men, taken at random, to give their
opinions, sent some into the prison to bring out the inmates, and posted
others at the door to consummate the massacre. It was agreed that, in order
to spare scenes of anguish, he should pronounce these words. Sir, to La
Force! when the prisoner should be taken out at the wicket, and, unaware
of the fate which awaited him, be delivered up to the swords of the party
posted there.
The Swiss confined in the Abbaye, and whose officers had been taken to
the Conciergerie, were first brought forward. " It was you," said Maillard,
" who murdered the people on the 10th of August." — " We were attacked,"
replied the unfortunate men, " and we obeyed our officers." — " At any
rate," replied Maillard, coldly, " you are only going to be taken to La
Force." But the prisoners, who had caught a glimpse of the swords bran-
dished on the otlier side of the wicket, were not to be deceived. They were
ordered to go, but halted, and drew back. One of them, more courageous,
asked which way they were to go. The door was opened, and he rushed
headlong amidst the swords and pikes. The others followed, and met with
the same fate !
The executioners returned to the prison, put all the women into one room,
and brought out more prisoners. Several persons accused of forging assignats
were first sacrificed. After them came the celebrated Montmorin, whose
acquittal had caused so much commotion without obtaining him his lilierty.
Led before the blood-stained president, he declared that, being in the hands
of a regular tribunal, he could not recognise any other. " Well," replied
Maillard, " then you must go to La Force, to await a new trial !" The un-
suspecting ex-minister applied for a carriage. lie was toh' that he would
find one at the door. He also asked for some of his efl'ects, went to the
do®r, and was instantly put to death.
Thierry, the King's valet-de-chambre was then brought. "Like master,
358 HISTORY OF THE
like man," said Maillard, and the unfortunate prisoner was slaughtered.*
Next came Buob and Bocquillon, justices of the peace, accused of having
belonged to the secret committee of the Tuileries. They were accordingly
murdered. NLght, meanwhile, was advancing, and every prisoner, hearing
the yells of the assassins, concluded that his last hour was at hand.
What were the constituted authorities, all the assembled bodies, all the
citizens of Paris, about at this moment? In that immense capital, tran-
quillity and tumult, security and terror, may prevail at one and the same
time, so distant is one part of it from another. It was very late before the
Assembly was apprized of the atrocities perpetrating in the prisons ; and,
horror-struck, it had sent deputies to appease the people and to save the vic-
tims. The commune had despatched commissioners to liberate the prisoners
for debt, and to separate what they called the innocent from the guilty.
Lastly, the Jacobins, though met, and informed of what was passing, seemed
to maintain a preconcerted silence. The ministers, assembled at the hotel
of the marine to hold a council, were not yet apprized of what was being
perpetrated, and awaited Danton, who was attending the committee of sur-
veillance. Santerre, the commandant-general, had, so he told the commune,
issued orders, but they were not obeyed, and almost all his men were engaged
in guarding the barriers. It is certain that unrecognised and contradictory
orders were given, and that all the signs of a secret authority, opposed to the
public authority, were manifested. In the court of the Abbaye was a post
of the national guard, wliich had instructions to suffer people to enter, but
not to go out. Besides, there were posts waiting for orders, and not receiv-
ing any. Had Santerre lost his wits, as on the 10th of August, or was he
implicated in the plot? While commissioners, publicly sent by the com-
mune, came to recommend tranquillity and to pacify the people, otiier mem-
bers of the same commune repaired to the committee of the Quatre-Nations,
which was sitting close to the scene of the massacres, and said, " Is all going
on right here as well as at the Carmelites ? The commune sends us to offer
you assistance if you need it."
The efforts of the commissioners sent by the Assembly and by the com-
mune to put a stop to the murders had proved unavailing. They had found
an immense mob surrounding the prison, and looking at the horrid sight
with shouts of Vive la nation! Old Busaulx, mounted on a chair, com-
menced an address in favour of mercy, but could not obtain a hearing.
Basire, possessing more tact, had feigned a participation in the resentment
* " M. Thierry, the King's head valet, after he was condemned to die, kept crying out,
' God save the King,' even when he had a pike run through his body ; and, as if these words
were blasphemous, the assassins in a rage, burned his face with two torches. — The Count
de St. Mart, a knight of the order of St. Louis, one of the prisoners, had a spear run through
both his sides. His executioners then forced him to crawl upon his knees, with his body
thus skewered ; and burst out laughing at his convulsive writhings. They at last put an end
to his agony by cutting off his head." — Peltier. E.
" Young Masaubre had hid himself in a chimney. As he could not be found, the assassins
were resolved to make the gaoler answerable. The latter, accustomed to the tricks of pri-
soners, and knowing that the chimney was well secured at top by bars of iron, fired a gun up
several times. One ball hit Masaubre, and broke his wrist. He had sufficient self-comm:uid
to endure the pain in silence. The gaoler then set fire to some straw in the chimney. The
smoke suffocated him ; he tumbled down on the burning straw ; and was dragged out,
wounded, burnt, and half dead. On being taken into the street, the executioners determined
to complete his death in the manner in which it had been begun. He remained almost a
quarter of an hour, lying in blood, among heaps of dead bodies, till the assassins could pro-
cure fire-arms. At last they put an end to his tortures by shooting him through the head
five times with pistols." — reitter. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 359
of the crowd, but they refused to listen to him the moment he endeavoured
to excite sentiments of compassion. Manuel, the procureiir of the commune,
filled with pity, had run the greatest risks without being able to save a single
victim. At this intelligence, the commune, touched more sensil)ly than it
had been at first, despatclied a second deputation, to pctdfy the people, and
to enlighten their minds as to their true interests. This deputation, as
unsuccessful as the first, merely succeeded in setting at liberty a few women
and debtors.
The massacre continued throughout that horrid night ! The murderers
succeeded each other at the tribunal and at the wicket, and became by turns
judges and executioners. At the same time they continued to drink, and set
down upon a table their blood-stained glasses. Amidst this carnage, how-
ever, they spared some victims, and manifested inconceivable joy in giving
them their lives. A young man, claimed by a section and declared pun; from
aristocracy, was acquitted with shouts of Vive la nation.' and borne in tri-
umph in the bloody arms of the executioners. The venerable Sombreuil,
governor of the Invalides, was broufrht forward in his turn, and sentenced to
be transferred to La Force. Ills daughter perceived him from the prison,
rushed out among pikes and swords, clasped her father in her arms, clung
to him with such tenacity, besought his murderers with such a flood of tears
and in such piteous accents, that even their fury was suspended. Then, as
if to subject that sensibility which overpowered them to a fresh trial,
"Drink," said they to this dutiful daughter, "drink the blood of the aristo-
crats !" and they handed to her a pot full of blood. Slie drank — and her
father was saved ! The daughter of Cazotte also instinctively clasped her
father in her arms. She, too, implored for mercy, and proved as irresistible
as the generous Sombreuil ; but, more fortunate than the latter, she saved
her father's life without having any horrible condition imposed upon her
affection.* Tears trickled from tlie eyes of the murderers, and yet, in a
moment after, away they went in quest of fresli victims.
One of them returned to the prison to lead forth otlier prisoners to death.
He was told that the wretches whom he came to slaughter had been kept
without water for twenty-two hours, and he resolved to go and kill the
gaoler. Another felt compassion for a prisoner whom he was taking to the
wicket, because he heard him speak the dialect of his own country. " Why
art thou here?" said he to M. Journiac de St. Meard. "If thou art not a
traitor, the president, who is not a fool, will do thee justice. Do not trem-
ble, and answer boldly." M. Journiac was brought before JNIaillard, who
looked at the list. " All !" said Maillurd, " it is you, M. Journiac, who wrote
in the Journal dela Cour et de la Ville.^'' — " No," replied the prisoner, " it is a
calumny. I never wrote in tliat paper." — " Beware of attempting to de-
ceive us," rejoined Maillard, "for any falsehood here is punished with death.
Have you not recently absented yourself to go to the army of the emi-
grants ?" — "That is another calumny. I have a certificate attesting that for
twenty-three months past I have not left Paris." — " "Whose is that certifi-
* " After thirty hours of carnage, sentence was passed on Cazotte. The instrument of
death was already uplifted. The bloody hands were stretched out to pierce his atjed breast.
His daughter flung herself on the old man's neck, and presenting her bosom to the swords
of the assassins exclaimed, ' Vou shall not get at my father till you have forced your way
through my heart.' The pikes were instantly cheiked in their murderous career; a shout
of pardon is heard ; and is repeated by a thousand voices. Elizabeth, whose beauty was
heisihtened by her agitation, embraces the murderers : and covered with human blood, but
triumphant, she proceeds to lodge her father safe iu the midst of his lamily. — Ptliitr. E.
360 HISTORY OF THE
cate ? Is the signature authentic ?" Fortunately for M. de Jouniiac, there
happened to be among the sanguinary crew a man to whom the signer of the
certificate was personally known. The signature was accordingly verified and
declared to be genuine. " You see then," resumed M. de Journiac, " I have
been slandered." — "If the slanderer were here," replied Maillard, "he
should suff'er condign punishment. But tell me, was there no motive for
your confinement?" — " Yes," answered M. de Journiac, " I was known to
be an aristocrat." — " An aristocrat !" — " Yes, an aristocrat : but you are not
here to sit in judgment on opinions. It is conduct only that you have to try.
Mine is irreproachable ; I have never conspired ; my soldiers in the regiment
whicli I commanded adored me, and they begged at Nancy to go and take
Malseigne." Struck with his firmness, the judges looked at one another,
and Maillard gave the signal of mercy. Shouts of Vive la nation! instantly
arose on all sides. The prisoner was embraced. Two men laid hold of
him, and, covering him with their arms, led him safely through the threaten-
ing array of pikes and swords. M. de Journiac offered them money, but
they refused it, and only asked permission to embrace him.* Another pri-
soner, saved in like manner, was escorted home with the same attention.
The executioners, dripping with blood, begged leave to witness the joy of
his family, and immediately afterwards returned to the carnaije. In this
convulsive state, all the emotions succeeded each other in the heart of man.
By turns a mild and a ferocious animal, he weeps and then slaughters.
Steeped in blood, he is all at once touched by an instance of ardent affection
or of noble firmness. He is sensible to the honour of appearing just, to the
vanity of appearing upright or disinterested. If, in these deplorable days of
September, some of those savages were seen turning at once robbers and
murderers, others were seen coming to deposit on the bureau of the com-
mittee of the Abbaye the blood-stained jewels found upon the prisoners.
During this terrific night, the band had divided and carried destruction into
the other prisons of Paris. At the Chatelet, La Force, the Conciergerie,
• "^/ half-past tioo o'clock on Sunday, Sept. 2, we prisoners saw three carriages pass by
attended by a crowd of frantic men and women. They went on to the Abbey cloister, which
had been converted into a prison for the clergy. In a moment after, we heard that the mob
had just butchered all the ecclesiastics, who, they said, had been put into the fold there. —
Near four o'clock. The piercing cries of a man whom they were hacking into pieces with
hangers, drew us to the turret-window of our prison, whence we saw a mangled corpse on
the ground opposite to the door. Another was butchered in the same manner a moment
afterwards. — Near seven o'clock. We saw two men enter our cell with drawn swords in
their bloody hands. A turnkey showecJ the way with a flambeau, and pointed out to them
the bed of the unfortunate Swiss soldier. Reding. At this frightful moment, I was clasping
his hand, and endeavouring to console him. One of the assassins was going to lift him up,
but the poor Swiss stopped him, by saying, in a dying tone of voice, 'I am not afraid of
death ; pray, sir, let me be killed here.' He was, however, borne away on the men's shoulders,
carried into the street, and there murdered. — Ten o'clock, Monday morning. The most
important matter that now employed our thoughts, was to consider what posture we should
put ourselves in, when dragged to the place of slaughter, in order to receive death wiih the
least pain. We sent, from time to time, some of our companions to the turret- window, to
inform us of the attitude of the victims. They brought us hack word, that those who stretched
out their hands, suffered the longest, because the blows of the cutlasses were thereby weakened
before they reached the head ; that even some of the victims lost their hands and arms, before
their bodies fell ; and that such as put their hands behind their backs, must have snti'ered
much less pain. We calculated the advantages of this last posture, and advis<>d one another
to adopt it, when it should come to our turn to be butchered. — One o'clock, Tuesday morn-
ins;. After enduring inconceivable tortures of mind, I was brought, before my judges, firo-
claimed innocent, and set free." — Extracted from a Journal entitled "it/y Thirty-eight
Hours' Agony," by M. Jourgniac de Saint-Mtard.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 361
the Bemardins, St. Firmin, La Salpetriore, and the Bicetrc, the same mas-
sacres had been perpetrated, and streams of blood had flowed, as at the
Abbaye.* Next morning-, Monday, the 3d of September, day threw a light
upon the horrid carnarr-e of the nifjlit, and consternation pervaded all Paris.
Biliaud-V'arennes again repaired to the Abbaye, where, on the preceding
evening, he had encouraged what were called the labourers. He again ad-
dressed them. " My friends," said he, " by taking the lives of villains you
have saved the country. France owes you everlasting gratitude, and the
municipality knows not how to remunerate you. It ofi'ers you twenty-four
livres apiece, and you shall be paid immediately." These w^ords were
received with applause, and those to whom they were addressed then fol-
lowed I}illaud-V'arennes to the committee to receive tlie pay that was pro-
mised them. "Where do you imagine," said the president to Billaud,
"that we are to find funds for payino-?" Billaud then pronounced a fresh
eulogy on the massacres, and told the president that the minister of the in-
terior must have money for that purpose. Messengers were sent to Roland,
who, on rising, had just received intelliorence of the crimes of the night, and
who refused the demand with indi<rnation. Returning to the committee, the
murderers demanded, upon {)ain of death, the wages of their horrid labour,
and every member was obliged to empty his pockets to satisfy them.t The
commune undertook to pay the remainder of the debt, and there may still be
seen, in the statement of its expenses, the entries of several sums paid to the
executioners of September. There, too, may be seen, at the date of Sep-
tember t1ie 4th, the sum of one thousand four hundred and sixty-three livres
charged to the same account.
The report of all these horrors had spread throughout Paris, and produced
the greatest consternation. The Jacobins continued to observe silence.
Some symptoms of compassion were shown at the commune ; but its mem-
bers did not fail to add that the people had been just; that they had punislied
criminals only ; and that, in their vengeance, if they had done wrong, it was
merely by anticipating the sword of the law. The general council had airain
sent commissioners "to allav the ao-itation, and to brin^ back to rio-lit nrinei-
pies those who had been misled." Such were the expressions of the public
authorities ! People Avere everywhere to be found, who, wdiilst pitying the
sufferings of the unfortunate victims, added, "If they had been allowed to
live, they woidd have murdered us in a few days." " If," said others, " we
are conquered and massacred by the Prussians, they will at least have fallen
* " The populace in the court of (he Alibaye, complained that the foremost onlv g;ot a stroke
at the prisoners, and thai they were deprived of the pleasure of rnurderiiiir the aristocrats. It
was in consequence atjreed that those in advance should only strike with the backs of their
sahrcs, and that the wretched victims should be made to run the gauntlet through a long
avenue of murderers, each of whom should have the satisfaction of sirikinir them before they
expired. The women in the adjiinina: quarter made a formal demand to the commune for
lijihts to see the massacres, and a lam|) was in conse(]uence placed near the spot where the
victims issiied, amid the shouts of the spectators. Benches, under the charge of sentinels,
were next arranged, some " Pour les Messieurs," and others " Pour les Dames," to witness
the spectacle!" — Alison.
j "The assassins were not slow in claiming their promised reward. Stained with blood,
and bespattered with brains, with their swords and bavoiiels in their hands, they soon
thronged the doors of the committee of the municipality, who were at a loss for funds to dis-
charge their claims. "Do you think I have only twenty-four francs 1' said a young baker
armed with a massive weapon ; ' why, I have slain f )rty with my own hands!' At midnight
the mob returned, threatening instant death to the whole committee if they were not forthwith
paid." — Alisun. E.
VOL. I.— 46 2 H
362 HISTORY OF THE
before us." Such are the frightful consequences of the fear which parties
produce in each other, and of the hatred engendered by that fear !
The Assembly, amidst these atrocious outrages, was painfully affected.
Decree after decree was issued, demanding from the commune an account of
the state of Paris ; and the commune replied that it was doing all that lay in
its power to restore order and the laws. Still the Assembly, composed of
those Girondins, who proceeded so courageously against the murderers of
September, and died so nobly for having attacked them — the Assembly did
not conceive the idea of repairing in a body to the prisons, and placing itself
between the butchers and the victims. If that generous idea did not occur
to draw them from their seats and to transfer them to the theatre of the car-
nage, this must be attributed to surprise, to the feeling of impotence, perhaps
also to that lukewarmness occasioned by danger from an enemy, and lastly,
to that disastrous notion shared by some of the deputies, that the victims
were so many conspirators, at wliose hands death might have been expected,
liad it not been inflicted on themselves.
One individual displayed on this day a generous character, and exclaimed
with noble energy against the murderers. During their reign of three days,
he remonstrated on the second. On Monday morning, the moment he was
informed of the crimes of the night, he wrote to Petion, the mayor, who as
yet knew nothing of them : he wrote to Santerre, who did not act ; and ad-
dressed to both the most urgent requisitions. He also sent at the moment a
letter to the Assembl)', which was received with applause This excellent
man, so unworthily calumniated by the parties, was Roland. In his letter
he inveighed against all sorts of disorders, against the usurpations of the
commune, against the fury of the populace, and said nobly that he was ready
to die at the post Avhich the law had assigned to him. If, however, the
reader wishes to form an idea of the exciting disposition of minds, of the
fury which prevailed against those who were denominated traitors, and of
the caution with which it was necessary to speak of outrageous passions,
some notion of thenv may be conceived from the following passage. As-
suredly there can be no question of the courage of the man who alone and
publicly held all the authorities responsible for the massacres ; and yet
observe in what manner he was obliged to express himself on the subject:
" Yesterday was a day over the events of which we ought perhaps to
tlirow a veil. I know that the people, terrible in their vengeance, exercise
a sort of justice in it; they do not take for their victims all whom they en-
counter in their fury ; they direct it against those whom they consider as
having been too long spared by the sword of the law, and whom the danger
of circumstances persuades them that it is expedient to sacrifice without de-
lay. But I know, too, that it is easy for villains, for traitors, to abuse this
excitement, and that it ought to be stopped. I know that we owe to all
France the declaration that the executive power could neither foresee nor
prevent these excesses. I know that it is the duty of the constituted authori-
ties to put an end to them, or to regard themselves as annihilated. I know,
moreover, that this declaration exposes me to the rage of certain agitators.
Let them take my life. I am not anxious to preserve it, unless for the sake
of liberty and equality. If these be violated or destroyed, either by the rule
of foreign despots or by the excesses of a misled people, I shall have lived
long enough ; but till my latest breath I shall have done my duty. This
is the only good which I covet, and of which no power on earth can
deprive me."
The Assembly received this letter with applause, and on the motion of
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 3G3
Laniourette, ordered the commune to give an account of the state of Paris.
The commune aofain replied that tranquillity was restored. On seeing the
courage of the minister of the interior, Marat and his connnittee were exas-
perated, and dared to issue an order for his apprehension. Such was their
blind fury, that they had the hardihood to attack a minister and a man, who,
at the moment, still possessed all his popularity. At this news, Danton
vehemendy inveighed against those members of the committee, whom he
called madmen. Though daily thwarted by the inflexibility of Roland, he
was far from harbouring animosity against him. Besides, he dreaded, in
his terrible pohcy, all tliat he deemed useless, and he regarded it as extrava-
gant to seize the minister of state in the midst of his functions. He repaired
to tlie residence of tlie mayor, hastened to tlie committee, and hnmched out
indignantly against Marat. Means were nevertheless found to appease him,
and to reconcile him with Marat. The order for Roland's apprehension was
delivered to him, and he went immediately and showed it to Petion, to whom
he related what he liad done. "See," said he, "what those madman are
capable of! — but I shall know how to bring them to reason." — " You have
done wrong," coolly replied Petion ; " this act could not have harmed any
hut its authors."
Petion, on his part, though colder than Roland, had displayed not less
courage. He had written to Santerre, who, either from impotence, or from
being implicated in the plot, replied that his heart Avas rent, but that he coidd
not enforce the execution of his orders. He had afterwards repaired in per-
son to the different theatres of carnage. At La Force he had dragged from
their bloody seat two municipal officers in scarfs, who were acting in the
same capacity as Maillaid had done at the Abbaye. Rut no sooner was he
gone, to proceed to some other place, than the municipal ofiicers returned,
and continued their executions. Petion, whose presence was everywhere
inefficacious, returned to Roland, who was taken ill in consequence of the
deep impression that had been made upon lum. The only place preserved
from attack was the Temple, against the inmates of which the popular fury
was particularly excited. Here, however, the armed force had been more
fortunate ; and a tricoloured ribbon, extended between the walls and the
populace, had sufficed to keep it off and to save the royal family.*
The monsters who had been spilling blood ever since Sunday, had con-
tracted an appetite for it, and a hal)it which they could not immediately lay
aside. Thev had even established a sort of re<rnlaritv in their exi'culions.
They suspended them for the purpose of removing the corpses, and taking
their meals. Women, carrying refreshments, even repaired to the prisons,
to take dinner to their husbands, who, they said, ivere at work at the
Ahhaye !
At La Force, the Bicetre, and the Abbaye, the massacres were continued
longer than elsewhere. It was at La Force, that the unfortunate Princess
de Lamballe was confined. She had been celebrated at court for her beauty,
and her intimacy with the Queen. She was led dying to the terrible wicket.
"Who are you?" asked the executioners in scarfs. "Louisa of Savoy,
Princess de Lamballe." — "What part do you act at court? Are you ac-
quainted with the plots of the palace ?" — " I was never acquainted M'ith any
* " One of the commissioners told me that the mob had attempted to rush in, and to carry
into the Tower the body of the Princess de Lamballe, naked and bloody as it had beea
dragged from the prison De la Force to the Temple; but that some municipal officers had
hutie: a tricoloured ru>l>on across the principal gate as a bar against them ; and that for sir
hours it was very doubtful whether the royal family would be massacred or not." — Clery. E.
\
364 HISTORY OF THE
plot." — " Swear to love liberty and equality ; swear to hate the King, the
Queen, and royalty." — " I will take the first oath ; the second I cannot
take ; it is not in my heart." — '' Swear, however," said one of the bystand-
ers, who wished to save her. But the unfortunate lady coidd no longer
either see or hear. "Let Madame be set at liberty,'''' said the chief of the
wicket. Here, as at the Abbaye, a particular word had been adopted as the
signal of death. The princess was led away, not as some writers assert, to
be put to deatli, but for the purpose of being actually liberated. At the door,
however, she was received by wretches eager after carnage. At the first
stroke of a sabre on the back of her head, the blood gushed forth. She still
advanced, supported by two men, who perhaps meant to save her: but a
few paces further, she fell from the effect of a second blow. Her beautiful
form was torn in pieces.* It was even mangled and mutilated by the mur-
* " The Princess de Lamballe, having been spared on the night of the second, flung her-
self on her bed, oppressed with every species of anxiety and horror. She closed her eyes, but
only to open them in an instant, startled with frightful dreams. About eight o'clock next
morning, two nati()nal guards entered her room, to inform her that she was going to be re-
moved to the Abbaye. She slipped on her gown, and went down stairs into the sessions-
room. When she entered this frightful court, the sight of weapons stained with blood, and
of executioners whose hands, faces, and clothes were smeared over with the same red dye,
gave her such a shock that she fainted several times. At length she was subjected to a mock
examination, after which, just as she was stepping across the threshold of the door, she re-
ceived on the back of her head a blow with a hanger, which made the blood spout. Two
men' then laid fast hold of her, and obliged her to walk over dead bodies, while she was faint-
ing every instant. They then completed her murder by running her through with their
spears on a hea[) of corpses. She was afterwards stripped, and her naked body exposed to
the insults of the populace. In this state it remained more than two hours. When any blood
gushing from its wounds stained the skin, some men, placed there for the purpose, imme-
diately washed it off, to make the spectators take more particular notice of its whiteness. I
must not venture to describe the excesses of barbarity and lustful indecency with which this
corpse was defded. I shall only say that a cannon was charged with one of the legs ! To-
wards noon, the murderers determined to cut off her head, and carry it in trium|>h round
Paris. Her other scattered limbs were also given to troops of cannibals who trailed them
along the streets. The pike that supported the head was planted under the very windows of
the Duke of Orleans. He was sitting down to dinner at the time, but rose from his chair,
and gazed at the ghastly spectacle without discovering the least symptom of uneasiness, ter-
ror or satisfaction." — Peltier. E.
" One day when my brother came to pay us a visit, he perceived, as he came along, groups
of people whose sanguinary drunkenness was horrible. Many were naked to the waist, and
their arms and breasts were covered with blood. Their countenances were inflamed, and
their eyes haggard ; in short, they looked hideous. My brother, in his uneasiness about us,
determined to come to us at all risks, and drove rapidly along the Boulevard, until he arrived
opposite the house of Beaumarchais. There he was stopped by an immense mob, composed
also of half-naked people, besmeared with blood, and who had the appearance of demons.
They vociferated, sang, and danced. It was the Saturnalia of Hell ! On perceiving Albert's
cabriolet, they cried out, ' Let it be taken to him ; he is an aristocrat.' In a moment, the
cabriolet was surrounded by the multitude, and iVom the middle of the crowd an object seemed
to arise and approach. My brother's troubled sight did not at first enable him to perceive long
auburn tresses clotted with blood, and a countenance still lovely. The object came nearer and
nearer, and rested upon his face. My unhappy brother uttered a piercing cry. He had recog-
nised the head of the Princess de Lamballe I" — Duchess d'Abruntts. E.
" It is sometimes not uninstructive to follow the career of the wretches who perpetrate such
crimes to their latter end. In a remote situation on the sea-coast, lived a middle-aged man,
in a solitary cottage, unattended by any human being. The police bad strict orders from the
First Consul to watch him with peculiar care. He died of suffocation produced by an acci-
dent which had befallen him when eating, uttering the mos^t horrid blasjihemies, and in the
midst of frightful tortures. He had been the principal actor in the murder of the Princess de
Lamballe." — Duche.^s d' Abrantcs, E.
" Madame de Lamballe's sincere attachment to the Queen was her only crime. In the midst
\
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 365
deters, who divided the fragments among tliem. Her head, her heart, and
other parts of her body, were borne through Paris on the point of pikes !
" We must," said tlie wretclies, in their atrocious language, " carry them to
the foot of the throne."" They ran to the Temple, and with shouts awoke
the unfortunate prisoners. They inquired in alarm what was the matter.
The municipal officers wished to prevent Uiem from seeing the horrilde crew
under their window, and the bloody head uplifted on the point of a pike. At
length one of the national guards said to the Queen, " It is the head of
Lamballe wliich they are anxious to keep you from seeing." At these
words, the Queen fainted. Madame Elizabeth, the King, and Clery, the
valet-de-chambre, carried away the unfortunate princess, and for a considera-
ble time afterwards, the shouts of the ferocious rabble rang around the walls
of the Temple.
The whole day of the 3d, and the succeeding night continued to be sullied
by these massacres. At the Bicetre, the carnage was longer and more terri-
ble than any wh(!re else.* There some thousands of prisoners were confined,
as everybody knows, for all sorts of misdemeanors. They were attacked,
endeavoured to defend themselves, and cannon were employed to reduce
them. A member of the general council of the commune even had the
audacity to apply for a force to reduce the prisoners, who were defending
themselves. He was not listened to. Petion repaired again to the Bicetre,
but to no purpose. The thirst for blood urged on the multitude. The fury
of fighting and murdering had superseded political fanaticism, and it killed
for the sake of killing. There the massacre lasted till Thursday, the 5th
of September.!
of our commotions she had played no part; nothing could render her suspected by the people,
to whom she was only known hy repeated acts of beneficence. When summoned to the bar
of La Force, many among the crowd bcsouyht pardon for her, and the assassins for a mo-
ment stood doubtful, but soon murdered her. Immediately they cut off her head and her
breasts; her body was opened, her heart torn out ; and the tigers who had so mangled her,
took a barbarous pleasure in going to show her head and heart to Louis XVI. and his family,
at the Temple. Madame de Lamballe was beautiful, gentle, obliging, and moderate.'" —
Mercter. E.
" Marie Thercse Louise de Savoie Carignan Ijamballc, widow of Louis Alexander Joseph
Stanislas de Bourbon Penthiere, Prince de Jjamballe, was born in yeptember, 1749, and was
mistress of the household to the Queen of France, to whom she was united by bonds of the
tenderest affection." — Biographie Muderne. E.
* " The Bicetre Hospital was the scene of the longest and the most bloody carnage. This
prison might be called the haunt or receptacle of every vice; it was an hospital also for the
cure of the foulest and most ofilicting diseases. It was the sink of Paris. Every creature
there was put to death. It is impossible to calculate the number of victims, but I have heard
them calculated at six thousand. The work of death never ceased for an instant during eight
days and nights. Pikes, swords, and guns, not beitig sutlicient for the ferocity of the mur-
derers, they were obliged to have recourse to cannon. Then, for the first time, were prisoners
seen fighting for their dungeons and their chains. They made a long and deadly resistance,
but were all eventually assassinated." — Peltier. E.
\ Subjoined are some valuable details respecting the days of September, which exhibit
those horrid scenes under their genuine aspect. It was at the Jacobins that the most im-
portant disclosures were made, in consequence of the disputes which had arisen in the Con-
vention :
Sitting of Monday, October 29, 1792.
" Chabot. — This morning Louvet made an assertion, which it is essential to contradict-
He told us that it was not the men of the lOih of August who were the authors of the 2u of
September, and I, as an eyewitness, can tell you that it was the very same men. He told
us that there were notf more than two hundred persons acting, and 1 will tell you that I passed
under a steel arch of ten thousand swords. For the truth of this I appeal to Bazire, Colon,
2 h2
366 HISTORY OF THE
At length almost all the victims hiid perished ; the prisons were empty.
The infuriated wretches still demanded blood, but the dark, directors of so
and the other deputies who were with me : from the Cour des Moines to the prison of the
Abbaye, people were obliged to squeeze one another to make a passage for us. I recogr)ised
for my part one hundred and fifty federalists. It is impossible that Louvet and his adherents
should not have been present at these popular executions. Yet a man who can coolly deliver
a speech such as I^ouvet's, cannot have much humanity. At any rate, I know that, since
that speech, I would not lie down by him for fear of being assassinated. I summon Pelion
to declare if it be true that there were not more than two hundred men at that execution ;
but it was to be expected that intriguers would fall foul of that day, respecting which all France
is not yet enlightened They want to destroy the patriots in detail. They want de-
crees of accusation against Robespierre, Marat, Danton, and Santerre. They will soon
attack Baziro, Merlin, Chabot, Montaut, ani even Grangeneuve, if he had not reconciled
himself with them ; they will then propose a decree against the whole fauxbourg St. Antoine,
and against the forty-eight sections, and there will be eight hundred thousand of us decreed
under accusation: but let them beware of miscalculating their strength, since they demand
the ostracism."
Sitting of Monday, November 5.
" Fabre d'Eglantine made some observations on the events of the 2d of September. He
declared that it was the men of the 10th of August who broke into the prisons of the Abbaye,
of Orleans, and of Versailles. He said that in these moments of crisis he had seen the same
men come to Danton's, and express their satisfaction by rubbing their hands together: that
one of them even desired that Morande might be sacrificed : he added, that he had seen in
the garden of the minister for foreign affairs, Roland, the minister, pale, dejected, with his
head leaning against a tree, demanding the removal of the Convention to Tours or Blois.
The speaker added that Danton alone displayed the greatest energy of character on that day ;
that Danton never despaired of the salvation of the country ; that by stamping upon the
ground he made ten thousand defenders start from it; and that he had sufficient moderation
not to make a bad use of the species of dictatorship with which the National Assembly had
invested him, by decreeing that those who should counteract the ministerial operations should
be punished with death. Fabre then declared that he had received a letter from Madame
Roland, in which the wife of the minister of the interior begged him to lend a hand to an
expedient devised for the purpose of carrying some decrees in the Convention. The speaker
proposed that the society should pass a resolution for drawing up an address comprehending
all the historical details of the events which had occurred from the acquittal of Lafayette to
that day."
" Chabot. — These are facts which it is of importance to know. On the 10th of August,
the people, in their insurrection, designed to sacrifice the Swiss. At that time, the Brissotins
did not consider themselves as the men of the 10th of August, for they came to implore us
to take pity on them — such was the very expression of Lasource. On that day I was a god,
I saved one hundred and fifty Swiss. Single-handed, I stopped at the door of the Feuillans
the people eager to penetrate into the hall for the purpose of sacrificing those unfortunate
Swiss to their vengeance. The Brissotins were then apprehensive lest the massacre should
extend to them. After what I had done on the 10th of August, I expected that, on the 2d
of September, I should be deputed to the people. Well, the extraordinary commission under
the presidency of the supreme Brissot did not choose me. Whom did it choose ] Dussaulx,
with whom, it is true, Bazire was associated. At the same time, it was well known what
men were qualified to influence the people, and to stop the effusion of blood. The deputa-
tion was passing me ; Bazire begged me to join it, and took me along with him Had
Dussaulx private instructions T I know not ; but this I know, that he would not allow any
one to speak. Amidst an assemblage often thousand men, among whom were one hundred
and fifty Marseillais, Dussaulx mounted a chair; he was extremely awkward: he had to
address men armed with daggers. When he at length obtained silence, I said hastily to him,
' If vou manage well, you will put a stop to the effusion of blood : tell the Parisians that it
is to their interest that the massacres should cease, that the departments may not be alarmed
for the safety of the National Convention, which is about to assemlile at Paris.' Dussaulx
heard me ; but, whether from insincerity or the pride of age, he would not do what I told
him; and this is that M. Dussaulx who is proclaimed the only worthy man in the deputation
of Paris ! A second fact not less essential is, that the massacre of the prisoners of Orleans
was not committed by the Parisians. This massacre ought to appear much more odious,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 367
many murders began tliemselves to be accessible to pity. The expressions
of the comniiine assumed a milder tone. Deeply moved, it is said, by the
rigour exercised against the prisoners, it issued fresh orders for stopping
them ; and this time it was better obeyed. There were, however, but very
few unhappy individuals left to benefit by its pity ! All the reports of the
time difler in their estimate of tlie numlier of the victims, Tliat estimate
varies from six to twelve thousand in the prisons of Paris.*
But if the executions spread consternation, the audacity which could avow
and recommend the imitation of tliem, excited not less surprise dian the exe-
cutions themselves. The committee of surveillance dared to address a
circular to all the commmies of France, M'hich history ought to preserve,
together with the names of the seven persons who did not hesitate to sign it.
From this document the reader may form some conception of the fanaticism
produced by the public danger.
••Paris, September 2, 1792.
" Brethren and friends,
"A horrid plot, hatched by the court, to murder all the patriots of the
French empire, a plot in which a great number of members of the National
because it was farther distant from the lOlh of August, and was perpetrated by a smaller
number of men. The intriguers, nevertheless; have not mentioned it ; they liave not said a
word about it, and why ? Because there perished an enemy of Brissot, the minister for fo-
reign affairs, who had ousted his protege, Narbonne If I alone, at the door of the
J^euillans, stopped the people who wanted to sacrilice the Swiss, how much greater is the
probability that the Legislative Assembly might have prevented the effusion of blood ! If,
then, there be any guilt, to the Legislative Assembly it must be imputed, or rather to Brissot,
who was then its leader."
• " Recapitulation of the persons massacred in the different prisons at Paris, from Sunday,
the 2d, till Friday, the 7th of September, 1792:
211 at the Convent of the Carmelites, and Saint Firmin's Seminary;
180 at the Abbey of St. Germain ;
73 at the Cloister of the Bernardins;
45 at the Hospital of La Salpetriere ;
8.5 at the Conciergerie ;
214 at the Chatelet;
164 at the Hotel de la Force.
lOOu
To these should be added the poor creatures who were put to death in the Hospital of Bice-
tre, and in the yards at I, a Saljiotriere ; those who were drowned at the Hotel de la Force ;
and all those who were dragged out of the dungeons of the Conciergerie and the Chatelet,
to be butchered on the Pont-au-Change, the number of whom it will ever be impossible
wholly to ascertain, but which may, without exaggeration, be computed at eight thousand
individuals!" — Peltier. E.
"The small number of those who perpetrated these murders in the French capital under
the eyes of the legislature is one of the most instructive facts in the history of revolutions.
The number actually engaged in the massacres did not exceed 300 ; and twice as many more
witnessed and encouraged their proceedings : yet this handful of men governed Paris and
France with a despotism, which 300.000 armed warriors afterwards strove in vain to effect.
The immense majority of the well disposed citizens, divided in o[nnion, irresolute in conduct,
and dispersed in various (juarters, were incapable of arresting the progress of assassination.
It is not less worthy of observation, that these atrocities took place in the heart of a city
where above fifty thousanci men were enrolled in the national guard, and had arms in their
hands! When the murders had ceased, the remains of the victims were thrown into
trenches previously prepared by the municipality for their reception. They were subse-
quently conveyed to the catacombs, where they were built uj); and still remain the monu-
ment of crimes unfi^ to be thought of, and which France would gladly bury in oblivion."
— Alison.
368 HISTORY OF THE
Assembly are implicated, liaving, on tlie 9th of last month, reduced the com-
mune of Paris to the cruel necessity of employing the power of the people
to save the nation, it has not neglected anything to deserve \ve\\ of the coun-
try. After the testimonies which the National Assembly itself had just
given, could it liave been imagined that fresh plots were hatching in secret,
and that they would break fort!i at the very moment when the National As-
sembly, forgetting its recent declaration that the commune of Paris had saved
the country, was striving to cashier it as a reward for its ardent patriotism ?
At these tidings, the public clamour raised on all sides rendered the National
Assembly sensible of the urgent necessity for joining the people, and restor-
ing to the commune, with reference to the decree of destitution, the power
■with wiiich it had invested it.
" Proud of enjoying in the fullest measure the national conlidence, Avhich
it will strive to deserve more and more, placed in the focus of all con?pira-
cies, and determined to perish for the public welfare, it will not boast of
having done its duty till it shall have obtained your approbation, ■which is
the object of all its wishes, and of which it will not be certain till all the
departments have sanctioned its measures for the public weal. Professing
the principles of the most perfect equality, aspiring to no other privilege
than that of being the first to mount the breach, it will feel anxious to reduce
itself to the level of the least numerous commune of the empire as soon as
tliere shall be nothing more to dread,
"Apprized that barbarous hordes are advancing against it, the commune
of Paris hastens to inform its l^retliren in all the departments that part of the
ferocious conspirators confined in the prisons has been put to death by the
people — acts of justice which appear to it indispensable for repressing by
terror the legions of traitors encompassed by its walls at the moment when
they were about to march against the enemy ; and no doubt the nation, after
the lonor series of treasons which have broutjht it to the brink of the abvss,
will eagerly adopt this useful and necessary expedient ; and all the French
will say, like the Parisians — "We are marching against the enemy, and we
■will not leave behind us brigands to murder our wives and our children.
" (Signed) Duplaix, Panis, Sergent, Lenfant, JMarat, Lefort,
JouRDEuiL, Administrators of the Committee of Sur-
veillance, constituted at the 3Iairie."
Dumouriez, as we have seen, had already held a council of war at Sedan.
Dillon had there proposed to fall back to Chalons, for the purpose of placing
the Marne in our front, and of defending the passage of that river. The
disorder prevailing among the twenty- three thousand men left to Dumouriez ;
their inability to make head against eighty thousand Prussians, perfectly
organized and habituated to war ; the intention altrilniled to the enemy of
making a rapid invasion 'without stopping at the fortresses — these were the
reasons which led Dillon to conceive it to be impossible to keep the Prus-
sians in check, and that no time should be lost in retiring before them, in
order to seek stronger positions ■which might make amends. The council
was so struck by these reasons that it coincided unanimously in Dillon's
opinion, and Dumouriez, to whom, as general-in-chief, the decision belonged,
replied that he would consider it.
This was on the evening of the 28th of Ausfust. A resolution was here
taken which saved France. Several persons dispute the honour of it. Every-
thing proves tlvat it is due to Dumouriez. The execution, at any rate, ren-
ders it entirely his own, and ought to earn for him all the glory of it.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 369
France, as every reader knows, is defended on the east by llie Rhine and the
Vosges, on the north by a cliain of fortresses created by the genius of Vau-
ban, and by the Meuse, the Moselle, and various streams, which, combined
with the fortified towns, constitute a sum total of obstacles sufiicient to pro-
tect that frontier. The enemy had penetrated into France from the north,
and had directed his march between Sedan and Metz, leaving the attack of
the fortresses of the Netherlands to the Duke of Saxe-Teschen, and masking
Metz and Lorraine by a body of troops. Consistently with this plan, he
ought to have inarched rapidly, profited by the disorganization of the French,
struck terror into them by decisive blows, and even taken Lafayette's twenty-
three thousand men, before a new general had again given them unity and
confidence. But the struggle between the presumption of the King of
Prussia and the prudence of Brunswick forbade any resolution, and prevented
the allies from being either bold or prudent. The reduction of Verdun in-
flamed still more the vanity of Frederick-William and the ardour of the
emigrants, but without giving greater activity to Brunswick, who was far
from approving of the invasion, with the means which he possessed, and
with the disposition of the invaded country. After the capture of Verdun,
on the 2d of September, the allied army spread itself for some days over the
plains bordering the Meuse, and contented itself with occupying Stenay,
without advancing a single step. Dumouriez was at Sedan, and his army
encamped in the environs.
From Sedan to Passavant a forest extends, the name of which ought to be
for ever famous in our annals. This is the forest of Argonne, which covers
a space of from thirteen to fifteen leagues, and which, from tlie inequalities
of the ground, and tlie mixture of wood and water, is absolutely impenetrable
to an army, except by some of the principal passes. Through this forest
the enemy must have penetrated, in order to reach Chalons and afterwards
take the road to Paris. AVith such a plan it is astonishing that he had not
yet thought of occupying the principal passes, and thus have anticipated
Dumouriez, who, from his position at Sedan, was separated from them by
the whole length of the forest. The evening after the council of war, tho
French general was considering the map with an ofllcer, in whose talents he
had the greatest confidence. This was Thouvenot. Pointing with his finger
to the Argonne and the tracks by which it is intersected, — -' That," said he,
" is the Thermopyla; of France. If I can but get thither before the Prussians,
all will be saved."
Thouvenot's genius took fire at this expression, and both fell to work upon
the details of this grand plan. Its advantages were immense. Instead of
retreating, and have notliing but the Marne for the last line of defence, Du-
mouriez would, by its adoption, cause the enemy to lose valuable time, and
oblige him to remain in Champagne, the desolate, muddv. sterile soil of which
could not furnish supplies for an army: neither woidd he give up to the in-
vaders, as would happen if he retired to Chalons, the Trois-Eveches, a rich
and fertile country, where they might winter very comfortably, in case they
should not have forced the IMarnc. If the enemy, after losing some time
before the forest, attempted to turn it, aiul directed his course towards Sedan,
he would meet with the fortresses of the Netherlands, and it was not to be
supposed that he could reduce them. If he tried the other extremity of the
forest, he Avould come upon Metz and the army of the centre. Dumouriez
would then set out in pursuit of him, and, by joining the army of Kellermann,
he might form admass of fifty thousand men, supported by Metz and several
other fortified toivns. At all events, this course would disappoint him of the
VOL. I. — 47
370 HISTORY OF THE
object of his march, and cause him to lose this campaign ; for it was already
September, and, at tliis period, people began at that season to talce up winter
quarters. This plan was excellent, but the point was to carry it into execu-
tion ; and the Prussians ranged along the Argonne, while Dumouriez was at
one of its extremities, might have occupied its passes. Thus then the issue
of this grand plan and the fate of France depended on accident and a fault of
the enemy.
The Argonne is intersected by five defiles, called Chene-Populeux, Croix-
aux-Bois, Grand-Prey, La Chalade and Islettes. The most important are
those of Grand-Prey and Islettes ; and unluckily these were the farthest from
Sedan and tlie nearest to the enemy. Dumouriez resolved to proceed thither
with his whole force. At the same time, he ordered General Dubouquet to
leave the department of the Nord, and to occupy the pass of Chene-Populeux,
which was of great importance, but very near Sedan, and the occupation of
wliich was less urgent. Two routes presented themselves to Dumouriez for
marching to Grand-Prey and Islettes. One was in the rear of the forest, the
other in front of it, and in face of the enemy. The first, passing in the rear
of the forest, was the safer, but the longer of the two. It would reveal our
designs to the enemy, and give him time to counteract them. The other
was shorter, but this too would betray our intentions, and expose our march
to the attacks of a formidable army. It would in fact oblige the French
general to skirt the woods, and to pass in front of Stenay, where Clairfayt*
was posted with his Austrians. Dumouriez, nevertheless, preferred the latter
route, and conceived the boldest plan. He concluded that, with Austrian
prudence, the general would not fail, on the appearance of the French, to
intrench himself in the excellent camp of Brouenne, and that he might in the
meantime give him the slip and proceed to Grand-Prey and Islettes,
Accordingly, on the 30th, Dillon put himself in motion, and set out with
eight thousand men for Stenay, marching between the Meuse and the forest.
He found Clairfayt occupying both banks of the river, with twenty-five
thousand Austrians. General Miaczinsky, with fifteen hundred men, attacked
Clairfayt's advanced posts, while Dillon, posted in rear, marched to his sup-
port with his whole division. A brisk firing ensued, and Clairfayt, imme-
diately recrossing the Meuse, marched for Brouenne, as Dumouriez had most
happily foreseen. jNIeanwhile Dillon boldly proceeded between the Meuse and
the Argonne. Dumouriez followed him closely with the fifteen thousand men
composing liis main body, and both advanced towards the posts which were
assigned to them. On the 2d Dumouriez was at Beffu, and he had but one
march more to make in order to reach Grand-Prey. Dillon was on the same
day at Pierremont, and kept advancing with extreme boldness towards
Islettes. Luckily for him, General Galbaud, sent to reinforce the garrison
of Verdun, had arrived too late and fallen back upon Islettes, which he thus
occupied beforehand. Dillon came up on the 4th, with his ten thousand
* " Count de Clairfayt, a Walloon officer, field-marshal in the Austrian service, and knight
of the Golden Fleece, served with great credit in the war with the Turks, and in 1791 was
employed against France. He assisted in taking Longwy in August, and in November lost
the famous battle of Jemappes. In 1793, the Prince of Coburg took the chief command of
the Austrian army, yet its successes were not the less owing to Clairfayt. In 1794 he con-
tinued to command a body of men, and met Pichegru in West Flanders, with whom he
■fought seven important battles before he resigned the victory to him. In 1796 Clairfayt
■entered the aulic council of war, and died at Vienna in 1798. Military men consider him
the best general that was ever opposed to the French during the revolutionary war." — Bio'
^aphie Moderne. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 371
men, established himself there, and moreover occupied La Chalade, another
secondary pass, which was committed to his charge. Dumoiiricz, at the
same time, reached Grand-Prey, found the post vacant, and took possession
of it on the 3(1. Thus the third and fourth of the passes were occupied by
our troops, and the salvation of France was considerably advanced.
It was by this bold march, which was at least as meritorious as the idea
of occupying the Argonne, diat Dumouriez placed himself in a condition to
resist the invasion. IJut this was not enough. It was necessary to render
those passes inexpuirnal)le, and to this end to make a great number of dispo-
sitions depending on many chances.
Dillon intrenched himsef at the Islettes. He made abattis, threw up ex-
cellent intrenchments, and, skilfully placing the French artillery, which was
numerous and excellent, formed batteries which rendered the pass inacces-
sible. At the same time he occupied La Chalade, and thus made himself
master of the two routes leading to St. Menehould and from St. Menehould
to Chalons. Dumouriez esta!)lished himself at Grand-Prey in a camp, ren-
dered formidable both by nature and art. The site of this encampment con-
sisted of heights rising in the form of an amphitheatre. At the foot of these
heights lay extensive meadow^s, before which flowed the Aire, forming the
Ute du camp. Two bridges w^ere thrown over the Aire, and two very strong
advanced guards were placed there, with orders to burn them and to retire
in case of attack. The enemy, after dislodging these advanced troops, would
have to effect the passage of the Aire, without the help of bridges and under
the fire of all our artillery. Having passed the river, he would then have to
advance through a basin of meadows crossed by a thousand fires, and lastly
to storm steep and almost inaccessible intrenchments. In case all these ob-
stacles should be overcome, Dumouriez, retreating by the heights which he
occupied, would descend the back of them, find at their foot the Aisne,
another stream which skirted them on that side, cross two bridges which he
would destroy, and thus again place a river between himself and the Prus-
sians. Tliis camp might be considered as impregnable, and there the French
general would be sutHciently secure to turn his attention quiedy to the whole
theatre of the war.
On the 7th, (ieneral Dubouquet, with six thousand men, occupied the
pass of ('hene-Populeux. There was now left only the much less important
passofCroix-aux-Bois, which lay between Chene-Popideux and Grand-Prey.
There Dumouriez, having first caused the road to be broken up and trees
felled, posted a colonel with two battalions and two squadrons. Placed thus
in the centre of the forest, and in a camp that was impregnable, he defended
the principal pass with fifteen thousand men. On his right, at the distance
of four leagues, was Dillon, who guarded the Islettes and T^a Chalade with
eight thousand. On his left Dubouquet, who occupied tlie ('hcne-Populeux
with six thousand ; and a colonel with a few companies walcduMl the road
of the Croix-aux-Bois, which was deemed of very inferior importance.
His whole defence being thus arranged, he had time to wait for reinforce-
ments, and he hastened to give orders accordingly. He directed Beurnon-
ville* to quit the frontier of the Netherlands, where the Duke of Saxe-Teschen
* " Pierre Rycl de Beurnonville, was born at Champipneul in 1752, and intended for the
church, but was bent on becoming a soldier. He was employed in 1792 as a general under
Dumouriez, who called him his Ajax. During the war he was arrested, and conveyed to the
head-quarters of the Prince of Coburg, but in 1795 he was exchanged for the daughter of
Louis XVL In 1797 Beurnonville was appointed to the command of the French army in
Holland ; and in \.\xi following year, was made inspector-general by the Directory. He was
372 HISTOrx.Y OF THE
was not attempting any thing of importance, and to be at Rethel on the 13th
of September, with ten thousand men. He fixed upon Chalons as the depot
for provisions and ammunition, and for the rendezvous of the recruits and
reinforcements which had been sent ofl' to him. He thus collected in his
rear all the means of composing a sufficient resistance. At the same time,
he informed the executive power tliat he had occupied the Argonne. " Grand-
Prey and the Islettes," he wrote, " are our Thermopylae ; but I shall be
more fortunate than Leonidas." He hessed that some regiments mijrht be
detached from the army of the Rhine, which Avas not threatened, and that
they might be joined to the army of the centre, now under tlie command of
Kellermann. The intention of the Prussians being evidently to march upon
Paris, because they masked Montmedy and Thionville, without stopping
before them, he proposed that Kellermann should be ordered to skirt their
left, by Ligny and Barle-Duc, and thus take them in flank and rear during
their offensive march. In consequence of all these dispositions, if tlie Prus-
sians should go higher up without attempting to force the Argonne, Dumou-
riez would be at Revigny before them, and would there find Kellermann
arriving from Metz witli the army of the centre. If they descended towards
Sedan, Dumouriez would still follow them, fall in with Beurnonville's ten
thousand men, and wait for Kellermann on the banks of the Aisne ; and, in
both cases, the junction would produce a total of sixty thousand men, capable
of showing themselves in the open field.
The executive power omitted nothing to second Dumouriez in his excel-
lent plans, Servan, the minister at war, though in ill health, attended witli-
out intermission to the provisioning of the armies, to the despatching of
necessaries and ammunition, and to the assemblage of the new levies. From
fifteen hundred to two thousand volunteers daily left Paris. A military
enthusiasm seized all classes, and people hurried away in crowds to join the
army. The halls of the patriotic societies, the councils of the commune,
and the Assembly, were incessandy traversed by companies raised sponta-
neously, and marching off for Chalons, the general rendezvous of the volun-
teers. These young soldiers lacked nothing but discipline and familiarity
with the field of battle, in which they were yet deficient, but which they
were likely soon to acquire under an able general.
The Girondins were personal enemies of Dumouriez, and they had given
him but little of their confidence ever since he expelled them from the minis-
try. They had even endeavoured to supersede him in the chief command
by an officer named Grimoard. But they had again rallied round him as
soon as he seemed to be charged with the destinies of the country. Roland,
the best, the most disinterested of them, had written him a touching letter to
assure him that all was forgotten, and that his friends all wished for nothing
more ardently than to have to celebrate his victories.
Dumouriez had thus vigorously seized upon tliis frontier, and made him-
self the centre of vast movements, till then too tardy and too unconnected.
He had happily occupied the defiles of the Argonne, taken a position which
aflTorded the armies time to collect and to organize themselves in his rear ;
he was bringing together all the corps for the purpose of forming an imposing
mass ; he had placed Kellermann under the necessity of coining to receive
one of those who sided with Bonaparte, when the latter brought about a new revolution in
1799, and afterwards received from him the embassy to Berlin. He was at a subsequent
period sent as ambassador to Mailrid ; and in 180,5, was chosen a senator. From the year
1791 to 1793, Beurnonville was present in not less than 172 engagements." — Biographic
Moderne.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 373
his orders ; he commanded with vigour, he acted with promptness, he kept up
the spirits of his soldiers by appearing- in the midst of thorn, by testifying
great confidence in them, and by making them wish for a speedy rencounter
with the enemy.
Such was the state of affairs on the 10th of September. Tlie Prussians
passed along all our posts, skirmished on the front of all our intrenchinents,
and were everywhere repulsed. Dumouriez had formed secret communica-
tions in the interior of the forest, by which he sent to the points that were
threatened unexpected reinforcements, which caused tlie enemy to believe
our army to be twice as strong as it really was. On the lltli, there was a
general attempt upon Grand-Prey; but General Miranda, posted at Mor-
taume, and General Stengel at St. Jouvion, repulsed all the attacks with
complete success. On several points, the soldiers, encouraged by their posi-
tion and the attitude of their leaders, leaped over the intrenchments and met
the approaching assailants at the point of the bayonet. These combats occu-
pied the army, which was sometimes in want of provisions, owing to the
disorder inseparable from sudden service. But the cheerfulness of the gene-
ral, who fared no better than his troops, produced universal resignation ; and
though dysentery began to make its appearance, still the camp of Grand-
Prey was tolerably healthy. The superior officers only, who doubted the
possibility of a long resistance, and the ministry, who had no conception of
it either, talked of a retreat behind the Marne, and annoyed Dumouriez with
their suggestions. He wrote energetic letters to the ministers, and imposed
silence on his officers, bv telling them that, when he wanted their advice, he
would call a council of war.
It is impossil)le for a man to escape the disadvantages incident to his
qualities. Thus the extreme promptness of Dumouriez's mind frequently
hurried him on to act without due reflection. In his ardour to conceive, it
had already happened that he had forgotten to calculate the material obsta-
cles to his plans ; especially when he ordered Lafayette to proceed from
Metz to Givet. Here he committed a capital fault, which, had he possessed
less energy of mind and coolness, might have occasioned the loss of the cam-
paign. Between the Chene Populeux and Grand-Prey, there was, as we
have stated, a secondary pass, which had been deemed of very inferior con-
sequence, and was defended by no more than two battalions and two squad-
rons. Wholly engrossed by concerns of the highest importance, Dumouriez
had not gone to inspect that pass with his own eyes. Having, moreover,
but few men to post there, he had easily persuaded himself that some hun-
dreds would be sufficient to guard it. To crown the misfortune, the colonel
whom Dumouriez had placed there persuaded him that part of the troops at
that post might be withdrawn, and that, if the roads were broken up, a few
volunteers would suffice to maintain the defensive at that point. Dumouriez
suffered himself to be misled by this colonel, an old oflicer, whom he deemed
worthy of confidence.
Meanwhile, Brunswick had caused our different posts to be examined,
and for a moment he entertained the design of skirting the forest as far as
Sedan, for the purpose of turning it towards that extremity, it appears that,
during this movement, the spies discovered the negligence of the French
general. The Croix-aux-Bois was attacked by the Austrians and the emi-
grants commanded by the Prince de Ligne. The abattis had scarcely been
made, the roads were not broken up, and the pass was occupied without
resistance on the^^morning of the 13th. No sooner had the unpleasant tidings
reached Dumouriez, than he sent General Chasot, a very brave oflicer, with
21
374 HISTORY OF THE
two brigades, six squadrons, and four eight pounders, to recover possession
of the pass, and to drive the Austrians from it. He ordered them to be at-
tacked as briskly as possible with the bayonet, before they had time to
intrench themselves. The 13th and 14th passed before General Chasot could
execute the orders which he had received. At length on the 15th, he attacked
with vigour, and repulsed the enemy, who lost the post, and their com-
mander, the Prince de Ligne. But, being attacked two hours afterwards by
a very superior force, before he could intrench himself, he was in his turn
repulsed, and entirely dispossessed of the Croix-aux-Bois. Chasot was,
moreover, cut off from Grand-Prey, and could not retire towards the main
army, which was thus weakened by all the troops that he had with him.
He immediately fell back upon Youziers. General Dubouquet, command-
ing at the Chene-Populeux, and thus far successful in his resistance, seeing
himself separated from Grand-Prey, conceived that he ought not to run the
risk of being surrounded by the enemy, who, having broken the line at the
Croix-aux-Bois, was about to debouch en masse. He resolved, therefore, to
decamp, and to retreat by Attigny and Somme-Puis, upon Chalons. Thus
the fniit of so many bold combinations and lucky accidents was lost. The
only obstacle that coukl be opposed to the invasion, the Argonne, was sur-
mounted, and the road to Paris was thrown open.
Dumouriez, separated from Chasot and Dubouquet, was reduced to fifteen
thousand men; and if the enemy, debouching rapidly by the Croix-aux-
Bois, should turn the position of Grand-Prey, and occupy the passes of the
Aisne, which, as Ave have said, served for an outlet to the rear of the camp,
the French general would be undone. Having forty thousand Prussians in
front, twenty-five thousand Austrians in his rear, hemmed in with fifteen
thousand men, by sixty-five thousand, by two rivers, and by the forest, he
could do nothing but lay down his arms, or cause his soldiers to the very
last man to be uselessly slaughtered. The only army upon Avhich France
relied, would thus be annihilated, and the allies might take without impedi-
ment the road to the capital.
In this desperate situation, the general was not discouraged, but maintained
an admirable coolness. His first care was to think the very same day of
retreating, for it was his most urgent duty to save himself from the Caudine
forks. He considered that on his right he was in contact with Dillon, who
was yet master of the Islettes and the road to St. Menehould ; that, by retiring
upon the rear of the latter, and placing his back against Dillon's, they should
both face the enemy, the one at the Islettes, the other at St. Menehould, and
thus present a double intrenched front. There they might await the junction
of the two generals Chasot and Dubouquet, detached from the main body,
that of Beurnonville, ordered from Flanders to be at Rethel on the 13th; and
lasdy, thatof Kellermann, who, having been more than ten days on his march,
could not fail very soon to arrive with his array. This plan was the best
and the most accordant with the system of Dumouriez, which consisted in
not falling back into the interior, towards an open country, but in maintain-
ing his ground in a difficult one, in gaining time there, and in placing himself
in a position to form a junction with the army of the centre. If, on the con-
trary, he were to fall back on Chalons, he Avould be pursued as a fugitive; he
would execute Avith disadvantage a retreat which he might have made more
beneficially at first ; and above all he would render it impossible for Keller-
mann to join him. It shoAved great boldness, after such an accident as had
befallen him at the Croix-aux-Bois, to persist in his system ; and it required
at the moment as much genius as energy not to give way to the oft-repeated
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 375
advice to retire behind the Marne. But then airain, how many lucky acci-
dents does it not require to succeed in a retreat so difficult, so closely watched,
and executed with so small a force in the presence of so powerful an enemy !*'
He immediately sent orders to Beurnonville, who was already proceeding
towards Rethel, to Cliasot, from M'hom he had just received favourable
tidings, and to Dubouquet, who had retired to Atligny, to repair all of them
to St. Menehould. At the same time he despatched fresh instructions to
Kellermann to continue his march; for he was afraid lest Kellermann, on
hearinof of the loss of the defdes, should determine to return to Metz. Hav-
ine: made these arrangements, and received a Prussian officer, who demanded
a parley, and shown him tlie camp in the best order, he directed the tents to
be struck at midnight, and the troops to march in silence towards the two
bridges which served for outlets to the camp of Grand-Prey. Luckily for
him, the enemy had not yet thought of penetrating by the Crois-aux-Bois,
and overwhelming the French positions. The weather was stormy, and
covered the retreat of the French with darkness. They marched all night
on the most execrable roads, and the army, which, fortunately, had not had
time to take alarm, retired without knowing the motive of this change of
position.
By eight in the morning of the next day, the 16th, all the troops had
crossed the Aicne. Dumourioz had escaped, and he halted in order of battle
on the heights of Autry, four leagues from Grand-Prey. He was not pur-
sued, considered himself saved, and was advancing towards Dammartin-sur-
Hans, with the intention of there choosing an encampment for the day, when
suddenly a number of runaways came up shouting that all was lost, and that
the enemy, falling upon our rear, had put the army to the rout. On hearing
this clamour, Dumouriez hastened to the spot, returned to his rear-guard,
and found Miranda, the Peruvian,! and old General Duval, rallying the fugi-
tives, and with great firmness restoring order in the ranks of the armv, which
some Prussian hussars had for a moment surprised and broken. 'J'he inex-
perience of these young troops, and the fear of treachery which then filled
all minds, rendered panic terrors both very easy and very frequent. All,
however, was retrieved, owing to the efforts of the three generals, Miranda,
Duval, and Stengel, who belonged to the rear-guard. The army bivouacked
at Damrnartin, with the hope of soon backing upon the Islettes, and thus
happily terminating this perilous retreat.
Dumouriez had been for twenty hours on horseback. He alighted at six
in the evening, when, all at once, he again heard shouts of Sanve qui peut!
and imprecations against the generals who betrayed the soldiers, and espe-
• " Never was the situation of an army more desperate than at this critical period. France
was within a hair's-breadlh of destruction." — Dumouriez' s Memoirs. E.
■\ " Dumouriez says that Miranda was born in Peru ; others, that he was a native of
Mexico. He led a wandering Uf'e for some years, traversed the greatest part of Europe, lived
much ill England, and was in Russia at the time of the French Revolution ; which event
opening a career to him, he went to Paris, and there, protected by Petion, soon made his
way. He had good natural and ac(]uircd abilities, and was particularly skilful as an engineer.
In 1792 he was sent to command the artillery in Cham[)agne under Dumouriez, wliom he
afterwards accompanied into the Low Countries. While there, he intrigued against that
general in the most perfidious manner, and was brought before the rcvolulionary tribunal, by
whom, however, he was acquitted. In 1803 he was arrested at Paris, on suspicion of form-
ing plots against the consular government, and was sentenced to transportation. The battle
of Nerwiiide, in 17^3, was lost entirely by the folly or cowardice of Miranda, who withdrew
almost at the beginning of the action, and abandoned all his artillery." — Bingraphie
Modeme. E.
376 HISTORY OF THE
cially against the commander-in-chief, who, it was said, had just gone over
to the enemy. The artillery had put horses to the guns and were about to
seek refuge on an eminence. All the troops were confounded. Dumouriez
caused large fires to be kindled, and issued orders for halting on the spot all
night. Thus tliey passed ten hours more in mud and darkness. More than
fifteen hundred fugitives running off across the country, reported at Paris and
throughout France that the army of the North, the last hope of the country,
was lost and given up to the enemy.
By the following day all was repaired. Dumouriez wrote to the National
Assembly with his usual assurance. "I have been obliged to abandon the
camp of Grand-Prey. The retreat Avas accomplished, when a panic terror
seized the army. Ten thousand men fled before fifteen hundred Prussian
hussars. The loss amounts to'no more than fifty men and some baggage.
All is retrieved, and I make myself responsible for everything."
Nothing less was requisite to dispel the terrors of Paris and of the executive
council, which was about to urge the general afresh to cross the Marne.
St. Menehould, whither Dumouriez was marching, is situated on the
Aisne, one of tlie two rivers which encompassed the camp of Grand-Prey.
Dumouriez had therefore to march along that river against the stream ; but,
before he reached it, he had to cross three deep rivulets which fall into it, —
Tourbe, the Bionne, and the Auve. Beyond these rivulets was the camp
which he intended to occupy. In front of St. Menehould rises a circular
range of heights, three-quarters of a league in length. At their foot extend
low grounds, in which the Auve forms marshes before it falls into the Aisne.
These low grounds are bordered on the right by the heights of the Hyron,
faced by those of I<a Lune, and on the left by those of Gisaucourt. In the
centre of the basin are several elevations, but inferior to those of St. Mene-
hould. The hUl of Valmi is one, and it is immediately opposite to the hills
of La Lune. The high-road from Chalons to St. Menehould passes through
this basin, almost in a parallel direction to the course of the Auve. It was
at St. Menehould and above this basin that Dumouriez posted himself. He
caused all the important positions around him to be occupied, and, support-
ing his back against Dillon, desired him to maintain his ground against the
enemy. He thus occupied the high-road to Paris upon three points — the
Islettes, St. Menehould, and Chrdons.
The Prussians, however, if they advanced by Grand-Prey, might leave
him at St. Menehould and get to Chalons. Dumouriez therefore ordered
Dubouquet, of whose safe arrival at Chalons he had received intelligence, to
place himself with his division in the camp of L'Epine, and there to collect
all the recently-arrived volunteers, in order to protect Chalons from a coup~
dc-mnin. He was afterwards joined by Chasot, and, lastly, by Beurnonville.
The latter had come in sight of St. Menehould on the 15th. Seeing an army
in good order, he had supposed that it was the enemy, for he could not sup-
pose that Dumouriez, who was reported to be beaten, had so soon retrieved
the disaster. Under this impression, he had fallen back upon Chalons, and,
having there learned the real state of the case, he had returned, and on the
19th taken up the position of Maffrecourt, on the right of the camp. He
had brought up these ten thousand brave fellows, whom Dumouriez had
exercised for a month in the camp of Maulde, amidst a continual war of
posts. Reinforced by Beurnonville and Chasot, Dumouriez could number
thirty-five thousand men. Thus, owing to his firmness and presence of mind,
he again found himself placed in a very strong position, and enabled to
temporize for a considerable time to come. But if the enemy, getting the
FREN'CH REVOLUTION. 377
start and leaving him behind, should hasten forward to Chalons, what then
would become of his camp of St. Menehould ? There was ground, therefore,
for the same apprehensions as before, and his precautions in the camp of
L'Epine were far from being capable of preventing such a danger.
Two movements were very slowly operating around him. That of Bruns-
wick, who hesitated in his march, and that of Kellermann, who, having set
out on the 4th from Metz, had not yet arrived at the specified point, though
he had been a fortnight on tlie road. But if the tardiness of Brunswick was
serviceable to Dumouriez, that of Kellermann compromised him exceedimjly.
Kellermann, prudent and irresolute, though very brave, had alternately ad-
vanced and retreated, according to the movements of the Prussian army ;
and again on the 17th, on receiving intelligence of the loss of the defiles, he
had made one march baclvAvard. On the evening of the 19th, however, he
had sent word to Dumouriez, that he was no more than two leasrues from
St. Menehould. Dumouriez had reserved for him the heights of Gisaucourt,
situated on his left, and commanding the road to Chalons and die stream of
the Auve. He had sent him directions that, in case of a battle, he might
deploy on the secondary heights, and advance upon Valmi, beyond the iVuve.
Dumouriez had not time to go and place his colleague himself. Kellermann,
crossing the Auve on the night of the 19th, advanced to Valmi, in the centre
of the basin, and neglected the heights of Gisaucourt, which formed the left
of the camp of St. Menehould, and commanded those of LaLunc, upon which
the Prussians were arriving.
At this moment, in fact, the Prussians, debouching bv Grand-Prey, had
come in sight of the French army, and ascending the heights of La Lune,
already discovered die ground on the summit of wliich Dumouriez was sta-
tioned. Relinquishing the intention of a rapid march upon Chalons, they
rejoiced, it is said to find the two French generals tosccther, conceiving that
they could capture both at once. Their object was to make themselves
masters of the road to Chalons, to proceed to Vitry, to force Dillon at die
Islettes, thus to surround St. Menehould on all sides, and to oblige the two
armies to lay down their arms.
On the morning of the 20ih, Kellermann, who, instead of occupving the
heights of Gisaucourt, had proceeded to the centre of the basin, to the mUl
of V' almi, found himself commanded in front by the heights of La Lune, occu-
pied by the enemy. On one side he had the Ilyron, wliich the French held,
but which they were liable to lose. On the other, Gisaucourt, which he had
not occupied, and where the Prussians were about to establish dieniselves.
In case he sliould be beaten, he would be driven into die marshes of the
Auve, situated behind the mill of Valmi, and he might be utterly destroyed,
before he could join Dumouriez, in the bottom of this amphitheatre. He
immediately sent to his colleague for assistance. But the King of Prussia,*
seeing a great busde in the FrencJi army, and conceiving- Uiat the generals
designed to proceed to Chalons, resolved immediately to close the roail to it,
and gave orders for the attack. On the road to Chalons, die Prussian ad-
vanced guard met tliat of Kellermann, who was widi his main body on the
• " In the course of one of the Pruss^ian marches, the King of Prussia met a young solJier
with his knapsack on liis back, and an okl musket in his hands. ' Where arc you going ?*
asked his majesty. 'To fight,' replied the soldier. ' By that answer,' rej.'iiicJ the monarch,
' I recognise the noblesse of France.' He saluted him, and passed on. The soldier's namo
has since become immortal. It was F. Chateaubriand, then returning from his travels in
North America, to ^are in the dangers of the throne in his native country." — Chaleaubri'
and's Memoirs. E.
VOL. I. — 48 2 I 2
378 HISTORY OF THE
hill of Valrai. A brisk action ensued, and the French, who were at first
repulsed, were rallied, and afterwards supported by the carbineers of Gene-
ral Valence. From the heights of La Lune, a cannonade was kept up
against the mill of Valmi, and our artillery warmly returned the fire of the
Prussians.
Kellermann's situation, however, was extremely perilous. His troops
were confusedly crowded together on the hill of Valmi, and too much incom-
moded to fight there. They were cannonaded from the heights of La Lune ;
their left suffered severely from the fire of the Prussians on those of Gisau-
court; the Hyron, which flanked their right, was actually occupied by the
French, but Clairfayt, attacking tliis post, with his twenty-five thousand
Austrians, might take it from tliem. In this case, Kellermann, exposed to
a fire from every side, might be driven from Valmi into the Auve, whilst it
might not be in the power of Dumouriez to assist him. The latter imme-
diately sent General Stengel with a strong division to support the French on
the Hyron, and to protect the right of Valmi. He directed Beurnonville
to support Stengel with sixteen battalions, and he sent Chasot with nine
battalions, and eight squadrons, along the Chalons road, to occupy Gisau-
court, and to flank Kellermann's left. But Chasot, on approaching Valmi,
sent to Kellermann for orders, instead of advancing upon Gisaucourt, and
left the Prussians time to occupy it, and to open a destructive fire from that
point upon us. Kellermann, however, supported on the right and the left,
was enabled to maintain himself at the mill of Valmi. Unluckily a shell,
falling on an ammunition-wagon, caused it to explode, and threw the infantry
into disorder. This was increased by the cannon of La Lune, and the first
line began already to give way, Kellermann, perceiving this movement,
hastened through the ranks, rallied them, and restored confidence. Bruns-
wick conceived this to be a favourable moment for ascending the height and
overthrowing the Fi'ench troops with the bayonet.
It was now noon. A thick fog which had enveloped the two armies had
cleared off. They had a distinct view of each other, and our young soldiers
beheld the Prussians advancing in three columns with the assurance of
veteran troops habituated to warfare. It was the first time that they found
themselves to the number of one hundred thousand men on tlie field of batfle,
and that they were about to cross bayonets. They knew not yet either
themselves or the enemy, and they looked at each other with uneasiness.
Kellermann went into the trenches, disposed his troops in columns with a
battalion in front, and ordered them, when the Prussians should be at a cer-
tain distance, not to wait for them, but to run forward and meet them with
the bayonet. Then raising his voice, he cried Vive la nation! His men
might be brave or cowards. The cry of Vive la nation! however, roused
their courage, and our young soldiers, catching the spirit of their commander,
marched on, shouting Vive la nation! At this sight, Brunswick, who ha-
zarded the attack with repugnance, and with considerable apprehension for
the result, hesitated, halted his columns, and finally ordered them to return
to the camp.
This trial was decisive. From that moment people gave credit for valour,
to those coblers and those tailors of whom the emigrants said that the French
army was composed. They had seen men, equipped, clothed, and brave ;
they had seen oflicers decorated and full of experience ; a General Duval,
whose majestic stature and gray hair inspired respect; Kellermann, and
lastly, Dumouriez, displaying the utmost firmness and skill in presence of so
superior an enemy. At this moment the French Revolution was appreciated,
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 379
and that chaos, till then ridirulous, ceased to be regarded in any other light
than as a terril)lu hurst of energy.
At four o'clock, Brunswick, ventured upon a new attack. The firmness
of our troops again disconcerted him, and again he withdrew his columns.
Marching from one surprise to another, and finding all that he had been told
false, the Prussian general advanced with extreme circumspection ; and,
though fault has been found with him for not pushing the attack more briskly,
and overthrowing Kellermann, good judges are of opinion that he was in the
right. Kellermann, supported on the right and left by the whole French
army, was enabled to resist; and if Brunswick, jammed in a gorge, and in
an execrable country, had chanced to be beaten, he might have been utterly
destroyed. Besides, he had, by the result of that day, occupied the road to
Chalons. The French were cut off from their depot, and he hoped to
oblige them to quit their position in a few days. He did not consider that,
masters of Vitrv, tliey were merely subjected by this circumstance to the
inconvenience of a longer circuit, and to some delay in the arrival of their
convoys.
Such was the celebrated battle of the 20th of September, 1792, in which
more than twenty thousand cannon-shot were fired, whence it has been since
called the "Cannonade of Valmi."* The loss was equal on both sides, and
amounted to eight or nine hundred men for each. But gaiety and assurance
reigned in the French camp, reproach and regret in tluit of the Prussians.
It is asserted that on the verv same evening the King of Prussia addressed
the severest remonstrances to the emigrants, and tliat a great diminution was
perceived in tlie influence of Calonne, the most presumptuous of the
emigrant ministers, and the most fertile in exaggerated promises and false
information.
That same night Kellermann recrossed the Auve with little noise, and
encamped on the heights of Gisaucourt, which he should have occupied at
first, and by whicli the Prussians had profited in the conflict. The Prus-
sians remained on the heights of La Lune. At the opposite extremity was
Dumouriez, and on his left Kellermann upon the heights, of which lie had
just taken possession. In this singular position the French, with their faces
towards France, seemed to be invading it, and the Prussians, with their backs
to it, appeared to be defending the country. Here commenced, on the part
of Dumouriez, a new line of conduct, full of energy and firmness, as well
against tlie enemy as against his own officers and against the French autlior-
ity. With nearly seventy thousand men, in a good camp, in no want, or
at least but rarely in want of provisions, he could afford to wait. The Prus-
sians, on the contrary, ran sliort. Disease began to thin their army, and in
this situation they would lose a great deal by temporizing. A most incle-
ment season, amidst a wet country and on a clayey soil, did not allow them
to make any long stay. If, resuming too late the energy and celebrity of the
* " It is witli an invading army as with an insurrection. An indecisive action is equiva-
lent to a defeat. The allair of Valmi was merely a rannonade ; the total loss on both sides
did not exceed eight hundred men ; the hulk of the forces on neither were drawn out; yet it
produced upon the invaders consequences equivalent to the most terrihle overthrow. The
Duke of Brunswick no longer ventured to despise an enemy who had shown so much steadi-
ness un<ler a severe fire of artillery ; the elevation of victory, and the self-conlidence which
insures it, had passed over to the other side, tufted with an uncommon degree of intelli-
gence, and influenced by an ardent imagination, the French soldiers are easily depressed by
defeat, but proportionally riiised by success ; they rapidly make the transition from one state
of feeling to the othef^ From the cannonade of Valmi may l>e dated the commencement of
that career of victory which carried their armies to Vienna and tlie Kremlin." — Alisoti. E.
3S0 HISTORY OF THE
invasion, they attempted to march for Paris, Dumouriez was in force to pur-
sue and to surround them, when they should have penetrated farther.
These views were replete with justice and sagacity : but in the camp,
where the officers were tired of enduring privations, and where Kellermann
was dissatisfied at being subjected to a superior authority ; at Paris, where
people found themselves separated from the principal army, where they could
perceive nothing between them and the Prussians, and within fifteen leagues
of which Hulans were seen advancing, since the forest of Argonne had been
opened, they coukl not approve of the plan of Dumouriez. The Assembly,
the council, complained of his obsdnacy, and wrote him the most imperative
letters to make him abandon his position and recross the Marne. The camp
of Montmarte and an army between Chalons and Paris, were the double
rampart required by their terrified imaginations. " The Ilulans annoy you,"
wrote Dumouriez ; " well then, kill them. That does not concern me. I
shall not change my plan for the sake of nous ardoilles.'" Entreaties and
orders nevertheless continued to pour in upon him. In the camp, the officers
did not cease to make observations. The soldiers alone, cheered by the
high spirits of the general, who took care to visit their ranks, to encourage
them, and to explain to them the critical position of the Prussiaus, patiently
endured the rain and privations. Kellermann at one time insisted on depart-
ing, and Dumouriez, like Columbus, soliciting a few days more for his
equipment, was obliged to promise to decamp if, in a certain number of days,
the Prussians did not be-at a retreat.
The fine army of the allies was, in fact, in a deplorable condition. It was
perishing from want, and still more from the destructive effect of dysentery.
To these afflictions the plans of Dumouriez had powerfully contributed.
The firing in front of the camp being deemed useless, because it tended to
no result, it was agreed between the two armies that it should cease ; but
Dumouriez stipidated that it should be suspended on the front only. He
immediately detached all his cavalry, especially that of the new levy, to scour
the adjacent country in order to intercept the convoys of the enemy, who,
having come by the pass of Grand-Prey and proceeded along die Aisne to
follow our retreat, was obliged to make his supplies pursue the same circuit-
ous route. Our horse took a liking to this lucrative warfare, and prosecuted
it with great success.
The last days of September had now arrived. The disease in the Prus-
sian army became intolerable, and officers were sent to the French camp to
parley.* They confined themselves at first to a proposal for the exchanyfe
of prisoners. The Prussians had demanded the benefit of this exchange for
the emigrants also, but this had been refused. Great politeness had been
observed on both sides. From the exchange of prisoners the conversation
turned to the motives of the war, and on the part of the Prussians it was
almost admitted that the war was impolitic. On this occasion the character
* " The proposals of the King of Prussia do not appear to offer a basis for a nee;otiation,
but they demonstrate that the enemy's distress is very great, a fact sufficiently indicated by
the wretchedness of their bread, the multitude of their sick, and the langour of their attacks.
I am persuaded that the King of Prussia is now heartily sorry at being so far in advance, and
would readdy adopt any means to extricate himself from his embarrassment. He keeps so
near me, from a wish to engage us in a combat as the only means he has of escaping; for if
I keep within my intrenchments eight days longer, his army will ilissolve of itself from wnnt
of pnivisions. I will undertake no serious negotiation without your authority, and without
receiving from you the basis on which it is to be conducted. All that I have hitherto done,
is to gain time, and commit no one." — Damouriez's Despatch to the French Govern-
ment. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 381
of Dumouriez was strikingly displayed. Having no longer to fight, he drew
up memorials for the King of Prussia, and demonstrated how disadvantage-
ous it was to him to ally himself with the house of Austria against France^
At the same time he sent liim a dozen pounds of coffee, being all that was
left in bolii camps. His memorials, which could not fail to be appreciated,
nevertheless met, as might naturally be expected, with a most unfavourable
reception. Brunswick replied, in the name of the King of Prussia, by a
declaration as arrogant as the lirst manifesto, and all negotiation was broken
Oii'. The Assembly, consulted by Dumouriez, answered, like the Roman
senate, that they would not treat with the enemy till he had quitted
France.
These negotiations had no other effect than to bring calumny upon tlie
general, who was thenceforth suspected of keeping up a secret correspond-
ence with foreigners, and with a haughty monarch, humbled by the result
of the war. But such was Dumouriez. With al)undant courage and intel-
ligence, he lacked that reserve, that dignity, which overawes men, while
genius merely conciliates them. However, as the French general had fore-
seen, by the 15th of October the Prussian army, unable to struggle longer
against want and disease, began to decamp. To Europe it was a subject of
profound astonishment, of conjectures, of fables, to see so mighty, so vaunted
an army, retreating before those raw artisans and tradesmen, who were to
have been led back with drums beating to their towns, and punished for hav-
ing quitted them. The sluggishness with which the Prussians were pursued,
and the kind of impunity wiiich they enjoyed in repassing the defiles of the
Argonne, led to the supposition of secret stipulations and even a bargain with
the King of Prussia. The military facts will account for the retreat of the
allies better than all these suppositions.
It was no longer possible for them to remain in so unfortunate a position.
To continue tlie invasion in a season so far advanced and so inclement, w'ould
be most injudicious. The only resource of the allies then was to retreat
towards Luxemburg and Lorraine, and there to make themselves a strong
base of operations for recommencing the campaign in the following year.
Tliere is, moreover, reason to believe that at tliis moment Frederick William
was thinking of taking his share of Poland ; for it was then that this prince,
after exciting the Pules against Russia and Austria, prepared to share the
spoil. Tims the state of the season and of the country, disgust arising from
a foiled enterprise, regret at having allied himself with the house of Austria
against France, and lastly, new interests in the iVorth, were, with the King
of Prussia, motives suflicient to determine his retreat. It was conducted in
the best order, for the enemy who tluis consented to depart was nevertheless
very strong.* To attempt absolutely to cut oif his retreat, and to oblige him
* "The force with which the Prussians retired, was about 70,000 men, and their retreat
was conducted throughout in the most imposing manner, taking position, and facing about
on occasion of every halt. Verdun and Longwy were successively ahandoned. On getting
possession of the ceded fortresses, the commissaries of the Convention took a bloody revenge
on the royalist party. Several young women who had presented garlands of flowers to the
King of Prussia during the advance of his army, were sent to the revokitionary triliunal, and
condeumed to death. The Prussians left bihind them on their route most melancholy proofs
of the disasters of the campaign. All the villages were filled with the dead and dying. With-
out any considerable fighting, the allies had lost by dysentery and fevers more than a fourth
of their numbers." — Alisun. E.
"The Prussians had engaged in this campaign as if it had been a review, in which light
it bad been represent^ to them by the emigrants. They were unprovided with stores or
provisions; instead of an unprotected country, they found daily a more vigorous resistance;
382 HISTORY OF THE
to open himself a passage by a victory, Avould have been an impnulcncp
which Dumouriez would not commit. He was obliged to content himself
with harassing him, but this he did with too little activity, through his own
fault and that of Kellermann.
The danger was past, the campaign was over, and each reverted to him-
self and his projects. Dumouriez thought of his enterprise against the
Netherlands, Kellermann of his command at Metz, and the two generals did
not pay to the pursuit of the Prussians that attention which it deserved. Du-
mouriez sent General d'Harville to the Chene-Populeux to chastise the emi-
grants; ordered General Miaczin^ki to wait for them at Stenay as they issued
from the pass, to complete their destruction ; sent Chasot in the same direc-
tion to occupy the Longwy road ; placed Generals Beurnonville, Stengel,
and Valence, with more than twenty-five thousand men, on the rear of the
grand army, to pursue it with vigour ; and at the same time directed Dillon,
who had continued to maintain his ground most successfully at the Islettes,
to advance by Clermont and Varennes, in order to'cut off the road to Verdun.
These plans were certainly excellent, but they ought to have been executed
by the general himself. He ought, in the opinion of a very sound and com-
petent judge, M. Jomini, to have dashed straightforward to the Rhine, and
then to have descended it with his whole army. In that moment of success,
overthrowing everything before him, he would have conquered Belgium in a
single march. But he was thinking of returning to Paris, to prepare for an
invasion by way of Lille. The three generals, Beurnonville, Stengel, and
Valence, on their part, did not agree very cordially together, and pursued the
Prussians but faindy. Valence, who was under the command of Kellermann,
all at once received orders to return, to rejoin his general at Chalons, and
then to take the road to Metz. This movement, it must be confessed, was
a strange conception, since it brought Kellermann back into the interior, to
make him thence resume the route to the Lorraine frontier. The natural
route would have been forward by Vitry or Clermont, and it would have
accorded Avith the pursuit of the Prussians, as ordered by Dumouriez. No
sooner was the latter apprized of the order given to Valence than he enjoined
him to continue his march, saying that, so long as the armies of the North
and centre were united, the supreme command belonged to himself alone.
He remonstrated very warmly with Kellermann, who relinquished his first
determination, and consented to take his route by St. Menehould and Cler-
mont. The pursuit, however, was continued with as litde spirit as before.
Dillon alone harassed the Prussians with impetuous ardour, and, by pursuing
them too vigorously, he had very nearly brought on an engagement.
The dissension of the generals, and the particular views which occupied
their minds after the danger had passed, were evidendy the only cause that
procured the Prussians so easy a retreat. It has been alleged that their de-
parture was purchased; that it was paid for by the produce of a great robbery,
of which we shall presendy give an account ; that it was concerted wiUi Du-
mouriez ; and that one of the stipulations of the bargain was the free retreat of
the Prussians; and lasdy, that Louis XVI. had, from the recesses of his pri-
son, insisted upon it. We have seen what very sufficient reasons must have
occasioned this retreat ; but, besides these, there are other reasons. It is not
credible that a monarch whose vices were not those of a base cupidity would
submit to be bought. We cannot see why, in case of a convention, Dumou-
the continual rains had laid open the roads ; the soldiers marched in mud up to their knees :
and for four days together they had no other nourishment than boiled corn." — Mignet. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 383
riez should not have justified himself in tlie eyes of military men, for not
having pursued the enemy, by avowing a convention in Avhicli there was
nothing disgraceful to himself: lasdy, Clery, the King's valet-de-chambre,
asserts that nothing like the letter said to have been addressed by Louis XVI.
to Fredericiv William, and transmitted by Manuel, the procureiir of the com-
mune, was ever written and delivered to the latter.* All this then is a false-
hood ; and tlie retreat of the allies was but a natural effect of the war.
Dumouriez, notwithstanding his faults, notwithstanding his distractions at
Grand-Prey, notwithstanding his negligence at the moment of the retreat,
was still the saviour of France, and of a revolution which has perhaps ad-
vanced Europe several centuries. It was he who, assuming the command
of a disorganized, distrustful, irritated army, infusing into it liarmony and
confidence, establishing unity and vigour along that whole frontier, never
despairing amidst the most disastrous circumstances, holding forth, after the
loss of the defiles, an example of unparallelled presence of mind, persisting
in his first ideas of temporizing, in spite of the danger, in spite of his army,
and in spite of his government, in a manner which demonstrates the vigour
of his judgment and of his character — it was he, we say, who saved our
country from foreign foes and from counter-revolutionary resentment, and
set the magnificent example of a man saving his fellow-citizens in spite of
themselves. Conquest, however vast, is neither more glorious nor more
moral.
• " It has been reported that Manuel came to the Temple, in the month of September, in
order to prevail upon his majesty to write to the King of Prussia, at the time he marched his
army into Champagne. I can testify that Manuel came but twice to the Temple while I was
there, first on the 3d of September, then on the 7th of October ; that each time he was ac-
companied by a great number of municipal officers ; and that he never had any private con-
versation with the King." — Clery. E.
384 HISTORY OF THE
THE NATIONAL CONVENTION.
ASSEMBLING AND OPENING OF THE NATIONAL CONVENTION-
INVASION OF BELGIUM.
While the French armies were stopping the march of the allies, Paris
was still the theatre of disturbance and confusion. We have already wit-
nessed the excesses of the commune, the prolonged atrocities of September,
the impotence of the authorities, and the inactivity of the public force, during
those disastrous days. We have seen with what audacity the committee of
surveillance had avowed the massacres, and recommended the imitation of
them to all the other communes in France. The commissioners sent by the
commune had, however, boen everywhere repelled, because France did not
participate in that fury which danger had excited in the capital. But in the
environs of Paris, all the murders were not confmed to those of which we
have already given an account. There had been formed in that city a band
of assassins, whom the massacres of September had familiarized with blood,
and who were Iient on spilling more. Some hundreds of men had already
set out with the intention of taking out of the prisons of Orleans the pei»ons
accused of high treason. A recent decree had directed tliat those unfortunate
prisoners sliould be conveyed to Saumur. Their destination was, however,
changed by the way, and they were brought towards Paris.
On the 9lh of Septeml)er, intclUgcnce was received that they were to ar-
rive on the 10th at Versailles. Whether fresh orders had been given to the
band of murderers, or the tidings of this arrival was sulTicient to excite their
sanguinary ardour, they immediately repaired to Versailles on the night be-
tween the 9th and 10th. A rumour was instantly circulated that fresh
massacres were about to be committed. The mayor of Versailles took every
precaution to prevent new atrocities. The president of the criminal tribunal
hastened to Paris, to inform Danton, the minister, of the danger which
threatened the prisoners; but to all his representations he obtained no other
answer than, "Those men are very guilty." — "Granted," rejoined Alquier,
the president, " but the law alone ought to punish them." — " Do you not
see," resumed Danton, " that I would have already have answered you in
another manner if I could ? Why do you concern yourself about these
prisoners ? Return to your functions, and trouble your head no more with
tliem."
On the following day the prisoners arrived at Versailles. A crowd of
strange men rushed upon the carriages, surrounded and separated them from
the escort, knocked Fournier, the commandant, from his horse, carried off
the mayor, who had nobly determined to die at his post, and slaughtered the
unfortunate prisoners to the number of fifly-two. There perislied Delessart,
and D'Ahancour, placed under accusation as ministers, and Brissac, as com-
mander of the constitutional guard, disbanded in the time of the Legislative
Assembly. Immediately after this execution, the murderers ran to the prison
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 385
of the town, and renewedthe scenes of the first days of September, employ-
ing the same means, and copying, as in Paris, the judicial forms.* This
event, happening within five days of the first, increased the consternation
which already prevailed. In Paris, the committee of surveillance did not
abate its activity. As the prisons had been jnst cleared by death, it began to
fill them again by issuing fresh orders of arrest. These orders were so nu-
merous, that Roland, minister of the interior, in denouncing to the Assembly
these new arbitrary acts, had from five to six hundred of them to lay on the
bureau, some signed by a single individual, others by two or three at most,
the greater part of them without any alleged motives, and many founded on
the bare suspicions of incivinm.
While the commune was exercising its power in Paris, it despatched com-
missioners to the departments, for the purpose of justifying its conduct, ad-
vising the imitation of its example, recommending to the electors deputies
of its own choice, and decrying those who were averse to it in the Legislative
Assembly. It afterwards secured immense funds for itself, by seizing the
money found in the possession of Septenil, the treasurer of die civd list, the
plate of the churches, and the rich moveables of the emigrants, and lasdy,
by drawing considerable sums from the exchequer, under the pretext of
keeping up the fund of aids, [cai-sse de serour.s,) and completing the works
of the camp. All the effects of the unfortunate persons murdered in the
prisons of Paris, and on the road to A^ersailles, had been sequestrated, and
deposited in the extensive halls of the committee of surveillance. Never
would the commune furnish any statement either of those articles or their
value, and it even refused to give any answer concerning them, either to the
minister of the interior, or to the directory of the department, which, as we
have seen, had been converted into a mere commission of contributions. It
went still furdier, and began to sell on its own authority the furniture of the
great mansions, to which seals had been affixed ever since the departure of
the owners. To no purpose did the superior administration issue prohi-
bitions. The Avhole class of the subordinate functionaries charged with the
execution of its orders either belonged to tin; nnmicipality, or was too weak
to act. The orders, therefore, were not carried into execution.
The national guard, composed anew under the denomination of armed
sections, and full of all sorts of men, was in a state of complete disorganiza-
tion. Sometimes it lent a hand to mischief, and at others sufiered it to lie
committed by neglect. Posts were totally abandoned, because die men on
duty, not being relieved even at the expiration of forty-eight kours, retired,
worn out with fatigue and disgust. AH the peaceable citizens had with-
• " As soon as the prisoners reached the grand square at Versailles, ten or twelve men laid
hold of the reins of the horses in the first wagon, crying out, "OlTwith their heads!" There
were a few curious spectators in the streets, but the whole escort was under arms. Fifteen
assassins surrounded and attacked the first wagon, renewing the cries of death. The puMic
functionary, who liad taken this wagon under his care, was the mayor of Versailles. He
attempted, hut in vain, to harangue the murderers; in vain did he get up into the wagon, and
use some efforts to guard and cover with his own person the two first of the prisoners who
were killed. The assassins, masters of the field of slaughter, killed, one after another, with
their swords and hangers, forty-seven out of fifty-three of the prisoners. This massacre lasted
for at least an hour and a (juarter. The dead bodies experienced the same indignities as those
of the persons who had been massacred at the Abbey prison, and in llie 'J'uileries. Their
heads and limbs were cut off, and fixed upon the iron rails round the palace of Versailles.
When the assassins thought they had despatched all those who were accused of treason
against the state, they Retook themselves to the prison at Versailles, where they killed about
twelve persons." — Peltiar. E.
VOL. I. — 49 2 K
386 HISTORY OF THE
drawn from that body, once so regular and so useful ; and Santerre, its
commander, possessed neither energy nor intelligence sufficient to or-
ganize it.
The safety of Paris was thus abandoned to chance, and the commune on
one hand, and the populace on the other, had fidl scope to do what they
pleased. Among the spoils of royalty, the most valuable, and consequendy
the most coveted, were those kept at the Garde Meuble, the rich depot of all
the effects which formerly contributed to the splendour of the throne. Ever
since the 10th of August, it had excited the cupidity of the multitude, and
more than one circumstance had sharpened the vigilance of the inspector of
the establishment. He had sent requisition after requisition for the purpose
of obtaining a sufficient guard ; but, whether from disorder, or from the diffi-
culty of supplying all the posts, or, lastly, from wilful negligence, he had not
been furnislied with the force that he demanded.
One night, the Garde Meuble was robbed, and the greater part of its con-
tents passed into unknown hands, which the authorities afterwards made
useless efforts to discover. This new event was attributed to the persons
who had secretly directed the massacres. In this case, however, they could
not have been impelled either by fanaticism or by a sanguinary policy ; and
the ordinary motive of theft can scarcely be ascribed to them, since they had
in the stores of the commune wherewithal to satisfy the highest ambition.
It has been said, indeed, that this robbery was committed for the purpose of
paying for the retreat of the King of Prussia, which is absurd, and to defray
the expenses of the party, wliich is more probable, but by no means proved.
At any rate, the robbery at the Garde Meuble is of very litde consequence
in regard to the judgment that must be passed upon the commune and its
leaders. It is not the less true that the commune, as the depository of pro-
perty of immense value, never rendered any account of it ; that the seals
affixed upon the closets were broken without the locks being forced, which
indicates a secret abstraction and not a popular pillage ; and that all these
valuables disappeared for ever. Part was impudently stolen by subalterns,
such as Sergent, surnamed Agate, from a superb jewel with which he
adorned himself; and another part served to defray the expense of the extra-
ordinary government which the commune had instituted. It was a war
waged against the old order of things, and every such war is sullied with
murder and pillage.
Such was the state of Paris while the elections for the National Conven-
tion were going forward. It was from this new assembly that the upriglit
citizens expected the means and energy requisite for restoring order. They
hoped that the forty days of confusion and crimes which had elasped since
the 10th of August, would be but an accident of the insurrection — a deplor-
able but transitory accident. The very deputies, sitting with such feebleness
in the National Assembly, deferred the exercise of energy till the meeting
of that Convention — the common hope of all parties.
A warm interest was taken in the elections throughout France, The clubs
exercised a powerful influence over them. The Jacobins of Paris had
printed and distributed a list of all the votes given during the legislative ses-
sion, that it might serve as a guide to the electors. The deputies who had
voted against the laws desired by the popular party, and those in particular
who had acquitted Lafayette, were especially distinguished. In the pro-
vinces, however, to which animosities of the capital had not yet penetrated,
•Girondins, and even such of them as were most odious to the agitators of
Paris, were chosen on account of the talents which they had displayed.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 387
Almost all the members of the late Assembly were re-elected. Many of the
constituents, whom the decree of non-re-election had excluded from the first
legislature, were called to form part of tliis Convention. In the number were
distinguished Huzot and Petion. Among the new members naturally figured
men rToted in their departments for their energy or their violence, or writers
who, like Louvet, had acquired reputation by their talents both in the capital
and in the provinces.
In Paris, the violent faction which had domineered ever since the 10th of
August, seized the control over the elections, and brought forward all the
men of its clioice. Robespierre and Danton were the first elected. The
Jacobins and the council of the commune hailed this intelligence with ap-
plause. After them were elected Camille Desmoulins, celebrated for his
writings ; David, for his pictures ;* Fabre-d'Eglantine,t for his comic works
and an active participation in the revolutionary disturbances ; Legcndre,
Panis, Sergent, and Billaud-Varennes for their conduct at the commune. To
these were added Manuel, the procureur syndic ; the younger Robespierre,
brother of the celebrated Maximilien ; Coliot-d'Herbois,^ formerly an actor;
* "J. L. Davi'l, a celebrated painter, elector of Paris in 1792, was one of the warmest
friends of Rol)es[)ierre. He voted for the death of Louis XVL He contrived the Mountain
on which Robespierre gave a public festival in the field of Mars. In 1794 he presided in the
Convention. In 1800 the consuls made him the national artist, when he painted for the
Hospital of the Invalids a picture of General Bonaparte. In 1805 he was appointed to paint
the scene of the emperor's coronation. David was unquestionably the first French jiainter
of the modern school; and this consideration had some weight in obtaininsj his pardon in
1794, when he had been accused of being a Terrorist. A swelling which David had in his
cheeks rendered his features hideous. He was a member of the Legion of Honour; and his
daughter, in 1805, married a colonel of infantry." — Bun^raphie Modf-rne. E.
I " Fabre-d'Iiglaniine was a native of Carcassone. He was known at the commencement
of the Revolution by works which had liUle success, and since that time, by comedies not
destitute of merit; but, above all, by criminal conduct both as a public and a private man.
Of low birth, he possessed a vanity which rendered him intolerable. He could not endure
the nobility. While he was obliged to bend before it, he was content with abusing it, as he
could do no more : but when the course of events had placed him in a position to crush those
he hated, ho rushed on them with the rage of a tiger, and tore them to pieces with delight. I
have heard him say, nearly like Caligula, that he wished the nobles had but one head, that
he might strike it otfat a single blow. In 1793, during the trial of Louis XVI., he was soli-
cited to be favourable to that unfortunate prince. 'You will enjoy the pleasure of doing a
good action,' said the applicant. ' I know a pleasure far superior to that,' replied Fabre;
'it is the pleasure felt by a commoner in condemning a king to death.' " — Memoirs of a Peer
of France. E.
t "J. M. CoIlot-d'Herbois first appeared on the stage, and had little success. He played
at Geneva, at the Hague, and at Lyons, where, having been often hissed, he vowed the most
cruel vengeance against that town. The line of acting in which he played best was that of
tyrants in tragedies. He went to Paris at the beginning of the Revolution, and embraced the
popular cause. Possessed of a fine face, a powerful voice, and great boldness, he became one
of the oracles at the .Jacobin Club. He was no stranger to the September massacres. During
the King's trial he sat at the to[) of the Mountain, by Robespierre's side, and voted for the
monarch's death. It has been said of this man, who was surnamed the Tiger, that he was
the most sanguinary of the Terrorists. In 179.3 he took his departure for Lyons, protested
that the 8outh should soon be purified. It is from the time of this mission that his horrible
celebrity takes its rise. He sent for a column of the revolutionary army, and organized the
demolitions and the employment of cannon in order to make up for the slowness of the guil-
lotine at Lyons. The victims, when about to be shot, were bound to a cord fixed to trees,
and a picket of infantry marched round the [ilace, firing successively on the condemned. The
mifrai Hades, the executions by artillery, took place in the Brotteaux. Those who were
destined for this punislynent were ranged two by two on the ed^e of the ditches that had
been dug to receive theit bodies, and cannons, loaded with small bits of metal, were fired upon
them ; after wliich, some troops of the revolutionary army despatched the wounded with
388 HISTORY OF THE
and the Duke of Orleans, who had relinquished his titles and called himself
Philippe Egalite. Lastly, after all these names there was seen with astonish-
ment tliat of old Dussaulx, one of the electors of 1789, who had so strongly
opposed the fury of tlie inob, and shed so many tears over its atrocities, and
who was re-elected from a last remembrance of 89, and as a kind inoffensive
creature to all parties.
In this strange list there was only wanting the cynical and sanguinary
Marat. This singular man had, from the boldness of Ins writings, some-
thing about him that was surprising even to those wlio had just witnessed
the events of September. Chabot, the Capuchin, who by his energy bore
sway at the Jacobins, and there sought triumphs which were refused him in
the Legislative Assembly, was obliged to step forth as the apologist of Ma-
rat ; and as everything was discussed beforehand at the Jacobins, his election
proposed there was soon consummated in the electoral assembly. Marat,
Freron,* another journalist, and a few more obscure individuals, completed
Its. (tv
rs, Coll.
swords or bayonets. [Two women and a young girl having solicited the pardon of their hus-
bands and brothers, Collot-d'Herbois had them bound on the scaffold where their relations
expired, and their blood spouted out on them. \ On his return to Paris, being denounced to
the National Convention by petitioners from Lyons, he answered, that 'the cannon had been
fired but once on sixty of the most guilty, to destroy them with a single stroke.' The Con-
vention approved of his measures, and ordered that his speech should be printed. In the year
1791, returning home at one o'clock in the morning, Collot was attacked by Admiral, who
fired at him twice with a pistol, but missed his aim. The importance which this adventure
gave him, both in the Convention of which he was nominated president, and elsewhere,
irritated the self-love of Robespierre, whom Collot afterwards denounced. In 1795 he was
transported to Guiana, where he endeavoured to stir up the blacks against the whites. Ho
died in the following year of a violent fever, which was increased by his drinking a bottle of
brandy. Collot published some pamphlets and several theatrical pieces, but none of them
deserve notice." — Biographie Moderne. E.
* " L. S. Freron was son of the journalist Freron, the antagonist of Voltaire and of the
philosophic sect. Brought up at the college Louis-le-Grand with Robespierre, he became in
the Revolution his friend, his emulator, and, at last, his denouncer. In 1789 he began to
edit the 'Orator of the People,' and became the coadjutor of Marat. Being sent with Barras
on a mission to the South, he displayed extreme cruelty and activity. On their arrival at
Marseilles, in 1793, they published a proclamation announcing that Terror was the order of
the day, and that to save Marseilles, and to rase Toulon, were the aims of their labours.
* Things go on well here,' wrote Freron to Moses Bayle ; we have required twelve thousand
masons to rase the town ; every day since our arrival we have caused two hundred heads to
fall, and already eight hundred Toulonese have been shot. All the great measures have been
neglected at Marseilles ; if they had only shot eight hundred conspirators, as has been done
here, and had appointed a committee to condemn the rest, we should not have been in the
condition we now are." It was at first intended to put to death all who had accepted any
oflice, or borne arms, in the town during the siege. Freron consequently signified to them
that they must all go, under pain of death, to the Champ de Mars, The Toulonese, thinking
to obtain pardon by this submission, obeyed, and eight thousand persons were assembled at
the appointed place. All the representatives (Barras, Salicetti, Ricord, Robespierre the
younger, cScc.) were shocked at the sight of this multitude ; Freron himself, surrounded by a
formidable train, saw these numerous victims with terror; at last, by the advice of Barras, a
jury was appointed, and a great number of the most guilty instantly shot. The shooting
with muskets being insufficient, they had afterwards recourse to the mitraillade; and it was
in another execution of this nature, that Freron, in order to despatch the victims who had
not perished by the first discharge, cried out, ' Let those who are still living, rise ; the republic
pardons them.' Some unhappy creatures trusting to this promise, he caused them to be im-
mediately fired upon. On quitting Toulon, Freron went with his coadjutors to finish the
de[)opulation of Marseilles, which they declared a commune without a name, and where they
destroyed more than 400 individuals, by means of a criminal tribunal, and afterwards of a
military committee. At the same time they caused the finest edifices of the city to be de-
stroyed. Returning from his proconsulship, Freron soon became an object of suspicion to
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 389
that famous deputation, which, embracing mercantile men, a butcher, an
actor, an engraver, a pahiter, a lawyer, three or four writers, and an abdicated
prince, correctly represented the confusion and the various classes whicli
were struggling in the immense capital of France.
The deputies arrived successively in Paris, and, in proportion as tlieir num-
ber increased, and the days which had produced such profound terror became
more remote, people began to muster courage, and to exclaim against the
excesses of the capital. The fear of the enemy was diminished by the atti-
tude of Dumouriez in the Arwonne. Hatred of the aristocrats was converted
into pity, since the horrible sacrifice of them at Paris and Versailles. Tliese
atrocities, which had found so many mistaken approvers or so many timid
censurers — these atrocities, rendered still more hideous by the robbery which
had just been added to murder, excited general reprobation. The Girondins,
indignant at so many crimes, and exasperated by the personal oppression to
which they had been subjected for a whole month, became more firm and
more energetic. Resplendent by their talents and courage in the eyes of
France, invoking justice and humanity, they could not but have public opinion
in their favour, and they already began loudly to threaten their adversaries
with its influence.
If, however, all alike condemned the outrages perpetrated in Paris, they
did not all feel and excite those personal resentments which imbitter party
animosities. Possessing intelligence and talents, Brissot produced consider
able effect, but he had neither sufficient personal consideration nor sufficient
ability to be the leader of a party, and the hatred of Robespierre aggrandized
him by imputing to him that character. When, on the days preceding the
insurrection, the Girondins wrote a letter to Bose, the King's painter, the
rumour of a treaty was circulated, and it was asserted that Brissot was going
to set out for London laden with money. The rumour was unfounded ; but
Marat, with whom the slightest and even the falsest reports were a suffi-
cient ground for accusation, had nevertheless issued an order for the appre-
hension of Brissot, at the time of the general imprisonment of the alleged
conspirators of the 10th of August. A great sensation was the consequence,
and the order had not been carried into effect. The Jacobins, nevertheless,
persisted in asserting that Brissot had sold himself to Brunswick. Robes-
pierre repeated and believed this, so disposed was his warped judgment to
believe those guilty who were hateful to him. Louvet had equally excited
his hatred for making himself second to Brissot at the Jacobins and in the
Journal de la Senfinel/c. Louvet, possessing extraordinary talent and bold-
ness, made direct attacks upon individuals. His virulent personalities, re-
newed every day through the channel of a journal, made him the most dan-
gerous and the most detested enemy of Robespierre's party.
Roland, the minister, had displeased the whole Jacobin and municipal party
by his courageous letter of the 3d of September, and by his resistance to the
encroachments of the commune ; but he had never been the rival of any
individual, and excited no other anger than that of opinion. lie had person-
Robespierre, whom he attacked in return, and contributed greatly to his ruin. From this
period he showed himself the enemy of the Terrorists, and pursued them with a fury worthy
of a former companion. He proposed in the ('onvention that death should no lontjer he
inflicted for revolutionary crimes, except for emicjration, promotion of the royal cause, ami
military treason, and that transportation should be substituted instead. At the time of the
expedition to St. Domingo in 1802, Freron was a[)pointed prefect of the South, and went
with General Loclei^; but he sunk under the influence of the climate, after an illness of six
days." — Blugruphie Modcrne. E.
2k2
390 HISTORY OF THE
ally ofTended none but Danton, by opposing him in the council, and there
was but little danger in so doing, for, of all men living, Danton was the one
whose resentment was least to be dreaded. But in the person of Roland it
Avas his wife who was principally detested — his wife, a proud, severe, cou-
rageous, clever woman, rallying around her those highly-cultivated and bril-
liant Girondins, animating them by her looks, rewarding them with her
esteem, and keeping up in her circle, along with republican simplicity, a
politeness hateful to vulgar and obscure men. These already strove to make
Roland the butt of their low ridicule. His wife, they said, governed for him,
directed his friends, and even recompensed them with her favours. Marat,
in his ignoble language, styled her the Circe of the party.*
Guadet, Vergniaud, and Gensonne, though they had shed great lustre on
the Legislative Assembly, and opposed the Jacobin party, had, nevertheless,
not yet roused all the animosity which they subsequently excited. Guadet
had even pleased the energetic republicans by his bold attacks upon Lafayette
and the court. Guadet, ardent, and ever ready to dash forward, could dis-
play at one moment the utmost vehemence, and in tlie next, the greatest
coolness ; and, master of himself in the tribune, he distinguished himself
there by his seasonable and spirit-stirring harangues. Accordingly, he, like
all other men, could not but delight in an exercise in which he excelled, nay,
even abuse it, and take too much pleasure in launching out against a party
which was soon destined to stop his mouth by death.
Vergniaud had not gained so much favour with violent spirits as Guadet,
because he had not shown such hostility to the court; but, on the other
hand, he had run less risk of offending them, because, in his ease and care-
lessness, he had not jostled others so much as his friend Guadet. So little
was tliis speaker under the sway of the passions, that they allowed him to
take his nap quietly amidst the contentions of parties ; and, as they did not
urge him to outstrip others, they exposed him but little to their hatred. He
was, however, by no means indifferent. He had a noble heart, a sound and
lucid understanding, and the sluggish hre of his being, kindling it at titnes,
warmed and elevated him to the most sublime energy. He had not the same
briskness of repartee as Guadet, but he became animated in the tribune,
where he poured forth a torrent of eloquence ; and, owing to the flexibility
of an extraordinary voice, he delivered his thoughts with a facility and a
fecundity of expression unequalled by any other member. The elocution
of Mirabeau was, like his character, coarse and unequal; that of Vergniaud,
always elegant and noble, became, with circumstances, grand and energetic.
But all the exhortations of Roland's wife were not always capable of rousing
this champion, frequently disgusted with mankind, frequently opposed to tlie
imprudence of his friends, and, above all, by no means convinced of the uti-
lity of words against force.
Gensonne, full of good sense and integrity, but endowed with a moderate
facility of expression, and capable only of drawing up good reports, had not
as yet distinguished himself in the tribune. Strong passions, however, and
* " To a very beautiful person, Madame Roland united great powers of intellect ; her repu-
tation stood very high, and her friends never spoke of her but with the most profound respect.
In character she was a Cornelia; and, had she been blessed with sons, would have edu-
cated them like the Gracchi. The simplicity of her dress did not detract from her natural
grace and elegance : and, while her pursuits were more adapted to the other sex, she adorned
them with all the charms of her own. Her personal memoirs are admirable. They are
an imitation of Rousseau's Confessions, and often not unworthy of the original." — Du-
mont. E.
FRE^XH REVOLUTION. 391
an obstinate character, could not but gain him considerable influence among
his friends, and from his enemies that hatred which is always excited more
by a man's character than by his talents.
Condorcet, once a marquis, and always a philosopher, a man of elevated
mind, an unbiassed judge of the faults of his party, unqualified for the
terrible agitations of democracy, and who had taken no pains to push liimself
forward, had as yet no direct enemy on his own account, and reserved him-
self lor all those kinds of labour wliich required proi'ound meditation.
Buzot,* endued with good sense, elevation of soul, and courage, combining
a firm and simple elocution witli a handsome face, awed the passions by the
nobleness of his person, and exercised the greatest moral ascendency on all
around him.
Barbaroux, elected by his fellow-citizens, had just arrived from the South
with one of his friends, like himself a deputy to the National (.'onvention.
The name of this friend was Kebccqui. With a mind but little cultivated,
he was bold and enterprising and wholly devoted to Barbaroux. It will be
recollected that tlie latter worshipped Roland and Petion, that he looked
upon Marat as an atrocious maniac, and Robespierre as an ambitious man,
especially ever since Petion liad proposed tlie latter to him as an indis-
pensable dictator. Disgusted with the crimes committed during his absence,
he was ready to impute them to men whom he already detested, and he
spoke out, immediately after his arrival, with an energy which rendered
reconciliation impossible. Inferior to his friends in the qualities of mind,
but endued with intelligence and facility, handsome, heroic, he vented him-
self in threats, and in a few days drew upon himself as much hatred as
those M'ho, during the whole existence of the Legislative Assembly, had
never ceased to wound opinions and their holders.
The person around whom the whole party rallied, and who then enjoyed
universal respect, was Petion. Mayor during the legislature, he had, by his
struggle witli the court, gained immense popularity. He had, it is true, on
the 9lh of August, preferred deliberation to combat; he had since declared
against the deeds of September, and had separated himself from the com-
mune, as did Bailly, in 1790 ; but this quiet and silent opposition, without
embroiling him still more with tlie faction, had rendered hini formidable to
it. Possessing an enlarged understanding, and a calm mind, speaking but
seldom, and never pretending to rival any one in talent, he exercised over
all, and over Robespierre himself, the ascendency of a cool, equitable, and
universally respected reason. Though a reputed Girondin, all the parties
were anxious for his sufi'rage. All feared him, and in the new Assembly he
had in his favour not only the right side, but the whole central mass, and
even many of the members of the left side.
Such then was the situation of the Girondins in presence of the Parisian
• " F. N. L. Buzot was born at Evreux in 1760, and was an advocate in that city at the
time of the Revnhuion, which he embraced with ardour. In 1792 he was deputed by the
Eure to the National Assembly. At ttie time of the King's trial he voted for his death,
though not for his immediate execution, and he was even one of those who most warmly
solicited a reprieve for him. In the March following, he more than once gave warning of
the despotism of the mob of Paris, and ended one of his speeches by threatening that city
with the sight of the grass growing in the streets if confusion should reign there much longer.
In A[)ril he contended against the Jacobins, who, he said, were inlluenced by men of blood.
Having been denounced as a Girondin, he made his escape from Paris, and after wandering
about some time, was found, together with Petion, dead in a field, and half-eaten by wolves."
— Biographic Moilerne. E
393 HISTORY OF THE
faction. They possessed the public opinion, which condemned the late
excesses ; they had gained a great part of the deputies who were daily
arriving in Paris ; they had all the ministers, excepting Danton, who fre-
quently governed the councd, but did not employ his power against them ;
lastly, they could boast of having at their head the mayor of Paris, than
whom none was at the moment more highly respected. But in Paris they
were not at home. They were in the midst of their enemies, and they had
to apprehend the violence of the lower classes, which were agitated beneath
them, and, above all, the violence of the future, which was soon to increase
along with the revolutionary passions.
The first reproach levelled at them was, that they wanted to sacrifice Paris,
A design of seeking refuge in the departments and beyond the lioire had
already been imputed to them. The wrongs done them by Paris, having
been aggravated since the 2d and 3d of September, they were, moreover,
accused of an intention to forsake it ; and it was alleged that they wished to
assemble the Convention in #ome other place. These suspicions, gradually
arranging themselves, assumed a more regular form. It was pretended that
the Girondins were desirous to break the national unity, and to form out of
the eighty-three departments as many states, all equal among themselves,
and united by a mere federative compact. It was added that by this mea-
sure they meant to destroy the supremacy of Paris, and to secure for them-
selves a personal domination in their respective departments. Then it was,
that the calumny of federalism was devised. It is true, that when France
was threatened vv'ith invasion by the Prussians, they had thought of intrench-
ing themselves, in case of necessity, in the southern departments ; it is
likewise true that, on beholding the atrocities and tyranny of Paris, they had
sometimes turned their eyes to the departments : but between this point and
the plan of a federative system, there was a very great distance. And,
besides, as all the difference between a federative government and a single
and central government consists in the greater or less energy of the local
institutions, the crime of such an idea was extremely vague, if it had any
existence.
The Girondins, perceiving nothing culpable in this idea, did not disavow
it ; and many of them, indignant at the absurd manner in which this system
was condemned, asked if, after all, the new American States, Holland, and
Switzerland, were not free and happy under a federative government, and
if there would be any great error, any mighty crime, in preparing a simdar
lot for France. Buzot, in particular, frequendy maintained this doctrine :
and Brissot, a warm admirer of the Americans, likewise defended it, rather
as a philosophic opinion than as a project applicable to France. These con-
versations being divulged, gave jjreater weisfht to the calumny of federalism.
At the Jacobins, the question of a federal system was gravely discussed, and
a thousand furious passions were kindled against the Girondins. It was
alleged that they wished to destroy the fasces of the revolutionary power, to
take from it that unity which constituted its strength : and this for the pur-
pose of making themselves kings in their respective provinces.
The Girondins, on their part, replied by reproaches in which there was
more reality, but which unfortunately were likewise exaggerated, and which
lost in I'brce, in proportion as they lost in truth. They reproached the com-
mune with having made itself the supreme authority, with having by its
usurpations encroached on the national sovereignty, and with having arro-
gated to itself alone a power which belonged only to entire France. They
reproached it with a design to rule the Convention, in the same manner as
FRENXH REVOLUTION. 393
it had oppressed the Legislative Assembly. They declared that it would be
unsafe for the national representatives to sit beside it, and that they would
be sitting amidst the murderers of September, They accused it of having
dishonoured the Revolution daring the forty days succeeding the 10th of
August, and with having selected for deputies of Paris none but men who
had si<Tnalized themselves during those horrible saturnalia.
So far all was true. But they added reproaches as vague as those Avhich
the federalists addressed to themselves. Marat, Danton, and Robespierre,
were loudly accused of aspiring to the supreme power: Marat, because he
was daily urging in his writings the necessity for a dictator, who should lop
off from society the impure members who corrupted it ; Robespierre, because
lie had dogmatized at the commune and spoken with insolence to the Assem-
bly, and because, on the evening before the 10th of August, Panis had pro-
posed him to Barbaroux as dictator ; lastly, Danton, because he exercised
over the ministry, over the people, and wherever he appeared, the influence
of a mighty being. They were called the triumvirs, and yet they had no
sort of connexion with each other. Marat Avas but a systematic madman.
Robespierre was as yet but a jealous, for he had not the greatness of mind
to be an ambitious man. Danton, finally, was an active man, zealously
intent on promoting the aim of the Revolution, and who meddled with
everything rather from ardour than from personal ambition. But in none of
these men was there yet either a usurper, or a conspirator, in understanding
with the others ; and it was imprudent to give to adversaries already stronsfer
than the accusers, the advantage of being accused unjustly. The Girondins,
liowever, showed much less bitterness against Danton, because there had
never been any thing personal between themselves and him, and they desjiised
Marat too much to attack him directly ; but they fell foul of Robespierre
without mercy, because they were more exasperated by the success of what
was called his virtue and his eloquence. Against him they entertained that
resentment which is felt by real superiority against proud and too highly
extolled mediocrity.
An attempt to bring about a better understanding was nevertheless made
before the opening of the National Convention, and several meetings were
held, in which it was proposed that the (Ufferent parties should frankly ex-
plain themselves and put an end to mischievous disputes. Danton entered
sincerely into this arrangement, because he carried with him no pride, and
desired above all things the success of the Revolution. Petion showed great
coolness and sound reason ; but Robespierre was peevish as an injured man;
the Girondins were haughty and severe as iimocent persons, who feel that
they have been offended, and conceive that they hold in their hands the sure
power of revenge. Barliaroux said that any alliance between rrimr fuid
virtue was utterly impossible ; and all the parties were much further from a
reconciliation when they separated, than before they met. All the Jacobins
rallied around Robespierre; the Girondins, and the prudent and- nmderate
mass around Petion. It was recommended by the latter and by all sensible
persons to drop all accusation, since it was impossible to discover the authors
of the massacres of September and of tlu; robbery at the Garde-Meuble ; to
say no more about the triumvir*;, because their ambition was neither suffi-
ciently proved, nor sufliciently manifested to be punished; to despise the
score of bad characters introduced into the Assembly by the elections of
Paris ; and lastly, to lose no time in fullilling the object of the Convention,
bv forminsf a constitution and decidinsr the fate of Louis XVL
Such were the^sentiments of men of cool minds ; but others less calm de-
voL. 1. — 50
394 HISTORY OF THE
vised, as usual, plans which, as they could not yet be put in execution, were
attended with the danger of warning and irritating tlieir adversaries. They
proposed to cashier the municipality, to remove the Convention in case of
need, to transfer its seat from Paris to some other place, to constitute it a
court of justice for the purpose of trying the conspirators without appeal,
and lastly, to raise a particular guard for it, selected from the eighty-three
departments. These plans led to no result, and served only to irritate the
passions. The Girondins relied upon the public feeling, which, in their
opinion, would be roused by the strain of their eloquence and by the recital
of the crimes which they should have to denounce. They appointed the
tribune of the Convention for their place of rendezvous, for the purpose of
crushing their adversaries.
At length, on the 20th of September, the deputies to the Convention met
at the Tuileries, in order to constitute the new Assembly. Their number
being sufficient, they constituted themselves ad interim, verified their powers,
and immediately proceeded to the nomination of the bureau. Petion was
almost unanimously proclaimed president, Brissot, Condorcet, Rabaud St.
Etienne, Lasource, Vergniaud, and Camus, were elected secretaries. These
appointments prove what influence the Girondin party then possessed in the
Assembly.
The Legislative Assembly, which had sat permanently ever since the 10th
of August, was apprized on the 21st by a deputation that the National Con-
vention was formed and that the Legislature was dissolved. The two
assemblies had but to blend themselves into one, and the Convention took
possession of the hall of the Legislative Assembly.
On the 21st, Manuel, procurcur syndic of the commune, suspended after
the 20th of June with Petion, who had become highly popular in conse-
quence of this suspension, and who had then enlisted among the furious
spirits of the commune, but afterwards withdrawn from them and joined the
Girondins at the sight of the massacres at the Abbaye — Manuel made a mo-
tion which excited a strong sensation among the enemies of the Gironde.
"Citizens representatives," said lie, "in this place everything ought to be
stamped with a character of such dignity and grandeur as to fill the world
with awe. I propose that tlie president of France have the national palace
of the Tuileries assigned for his residence, that he be preceded by the public
force and the insignia of the law, and that the citizens rise at his appear-
ance." At these words, Chabot the Jacobin, and Tallieii, secretary of the
commune, inveighed with vehemence against this ceremonial, borrowed from
royalty. Chabot said that the representatives of the people ought to assimi-
late themselves to tlie citizens from whose ranks they issued, to the sans-
culottes who formed the majority of the nation. Tallien added that they
ought to go to a fifth story in quest of a president, for it was there that genius
and virtue dwelt. Manuel's motion was consequently rejected, and the
enemies of the Gironde allege that that party wished to decree sovereign
honours to Petion, its chief.
This proposition was succeeded by a great number of others without m-
terruption. In all quarters there was a desire to ascertain by authentic
declarations the sentiments which animated the Assembly and France. It
was required that the new constitution should have absolute equality for its
foundation; that the sovereignty of the people should be decreed; that
hatred should be sworn to royalty, to a dictatorship, to a triumvirate, to every
individual authority ; and that the penalty of death should be decreed against
any one who should propose such a form of government. Danton put an
FRENXH REVOLUTION. 395
end to all the motions by c;ui.sin^ a decree to be passed, declaring tliat the
new constitution should not be valid till it had been sanctioned by llie people.
It was added that the existing laws should continue in force ad interim, that
the authorities not superseded should be meanwhile retained, and that the
taxes should be raised as heretofore, till new systems of contribution were
introduced. After these motions and decrees, Manuel, CoUot-d'Herbois, and
Gregoire, brought forward the question of royalty, and insisted that its abo-
lition should be forthwith pronounced. The people, said they, has just been
declared sovereign, but it will not be really so till you have delivered it from
a rival audiority — thai of kings. The Assembly, the tribunes, rose to express
their unanimous reprobation of royalty. Bazire, however, wished, he said,
for a solemn discussion of so important a question. "What need is there
for discussion," replied Gregoire, " when all are agreed ? Courts are the
hotbed of crime, the focus of corruption ; the history of kings is the martyr-
ology of nations. Since we are all equally penetrated with these truths,
what need is there for discussion?"
The discussion was accordingly closed. Profound silence ensued, and
by the unanimous desire of tlu; Assembly, the president declared that royalty
was abolished in France. This decree was hailed with universal applause ;
it was ordered to be published forthwith, and sent to the armies and to all
the m\inicipalities.*
AVhen this institution of the republic was proclaimed, the Prussians were
still threatening the French territory. Dumouriez, as we have seen, had
proceeded to St. Menehould, and the cannonade of the 21st, so favourable
to our arms, was not yet known in Paris. On the following day, the 22d,
Billaud-V'arennes proposed not to date any longer tlic year 4 of liberty, but
the year 1 of the republic. This motion was adopted. The year 1789
was no lonjjer considered as having commenced liberty, and the new repub-
lican era began on that very day, die 22d of September, 1792.
In the evening the news of the cannonade of Valmi arrived and diffused
general joy. On the petition of the citizens of Orleans, wlio complained of
their magistrates, it was decreed that there should be a new election of
* " On the 2lst of September, at four o'clock in the afternoon, Lubin, a municipal officer,
atlendeil by horsemen aiul a great mob, came before the Tower to make a proclamation.
'J'rumpels were sounded, and a dead silence ensued. Lubiii's voice was of the stentorian
kind. The royal family could distinctly hear the proclamation of the abolition of royalty,
and of the establishment of a republic. Hebert, so well known by the name of Perc-Duchene,
and Destournelles, since maile minister of the public contributions, were then on guard over
the family. They were sitting at the time near the door, and rudely stared the King in the
face. The monarch perceived it, but, having a book in his hand, continued to read, without
suffering the smallest alteration to appear in his countenance. The Queen displayed equal
resolution. At the end of the pri>clamation, the trumpets sounded again, and I went to the
window. The eyes of the populace were immediately turned upon me; I was taken for my
royal master, and overwhelmed with abuse. 'J'he same evening, I informed the King that
curtains and more clothes were wanting for the dauphin's bed, as the weather began to be
cold. He desired me to write the demand for them, which he signed. I used the same ex-
pressions that I had hitherto done — ' 'J'he King requires for his son,' and so forth. ' It is a
great piece of assurance in you,' said Destournelles, ' thus to j)ersist in a title, abolished by
the will of the people, as you have just heard.' I replied, that I had heard a proclamation,
but was unacquainted with the object of it. ' It is,' rejoined he, 'for the abolition of royalty;
and you may tell the irentleinmi' — pointing to the King — ' to give over taking a title, no
longer acknowledged by the people.' I told him I could not alter this note, which was already
signed, as the King would ask me the reason, and it was not my part to tell him. ' i'ou
will do as you likeJ' continued Destournelles, ' but I shall not certify the demand.' "^
Ckry. E. '
396 HISTORY OF THE
members of the administrative bodies and of the tribunals, and that the con-
ditions of eligibility fixed by the constitution of 1791 should be considered
as null. It was no longer necessary to select judges from among the law-
yers, or administrators from a certain class of proprietors. The Legislative
Assembly had already abolished the marc of silver, and extended the electo-
ral qualitication to all citizens who had attained the age of majority.
The Convention now removed the last demarcations, by calling all the
citizens to all the functions of every kind. Thus was introduced the system
of absolute equality.*
On the 23d, all the ministers were heard. Cambon, the deputy, made a
report on the state of the finances. The preceding assemblies had decreed
the issue of assignats to the amount of two thousand seven hundred millions ;
two thousand five hundred millions had been expended ; there remained two
hundred millions, of which one hundred and seventy-six were yet to be
made, and the other twenty-four were still in the exchequer. The taxes
were withheld by the departments for the purchase of corn ordered by the
last Assembly ; fresh extraordinary resources were required. The mass of
the national property being daily increased by emigration, the Convention
was not afraid to issue paper representing that property, neither did it hesi-
tate to do so. A new creation of assignats was therefore ordered.
Roland was heard on the state of France and of the capital. Equally
severe and still bolder than on the 3d of September, he expatiated with
energy on die outrages in Paris, their causes, and the means of preventing
them. He recommended the prompt institution of a strong and vigorous
government, as the only guarantee of order in free states. His report,
listened to with favour, was followed by applause, but nevertheless excited
no explosion among those who considered themselves as accused where it
treated of the disturbances in Paris.
But scarcely was this first survey taken of the state of France, when
news arrived of the breaking out of commotions in certain departments.
Roland addressed a letter to the Convention, denouncing these fresh outrages
and demanding their repression. As soon as this letter was read, the depu-
ties Kersaint and Buzot rushed to the tribune to denounce the acts of vio-
lence of all sorts that began to be everywhere committed. " The murders,"
said they, " are imitated in the departments. It is not anarchy that must be
accused of them, but tyrants of a new species, who are raising themselves
above scarcely-emancipated France. It is from Paris that these fatal
exhortations to crime are daily emanating. On all the walls of the capital
are posted bills instigating to murder, to conflagration, to pillage, and lists
of proscriptions, in which new victims are daily pointed out. How are the
people to be preserved from the most abject wretchedness, if so many
citizens are doomed to keep themselves concealed ? How make France
• " The name of citizen was now the universal salutation amons all classes. Even when
a deputy spoke of a shoeblack, that symbol of equality was regularly exchanged between
them ; and in (he ordinary intercourse of society, there was a ludicrous affectation of repub-
lican brevity and simplicity. 'When thou conquerest Brussels,' said Collet-d'Herbois, the
actor, to General Dumouricz, ' my wife, who is in that city, has permission to reward thee
with a kiss.' Three weeks afterwards the general took Brussels, but he was ungallant
enough not to profit by this flattering permission. His quick wit caught the ridicule of such
an ejaculation as that which Camus addressed to him. ' Citizen-general,' said the deputy,
' thou dost meditate the part of Cassar, but remember, I will be Brutus, and plunge a poniard
into thy bosom.' — ' My dear Camus,' replied the lively soldier, who had been in worse dan-
gers than were involved in this classical threat, ' I am no more like Ca;sar than you are like
Brutus; and an assurance that I should live till you kill me would be equal to a brevet of
immortality." — Scott's Life of Napoleon. E.
I
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 397
hope for a constitution, if the Convention, which ought to decree it, deHbe-
rates under uplifted daggers ? A stop must, for the honour of the Kevohition,
be put to all these excesses, and a distinction made between the civic bravery
which defied despotism on the lOlh of August, and the cruelty which, on
the 2d and 3d of September, obeyed a mute and hidden tyranny."
The speakers, in consequence, proposed the establishment of a committee
for the purpose —
1. Of rendering an account of the state of the republic, and of Paris
in particular;
2. Of presenting a projet de loi against the instigators of murder and
assassination ;
3. Of reporting on the means of placing at the disposal of the National
Convention a public force raised in the eiglitv-three departments.
On this motion, all the members of the left side, on which were ranged
the most ardent spirits of the new assembly, set up tumultuous shouts. The
evils prevailing in France were, according to them, exaggerated. The
hypocritical complaints, which they had just heard, issued from the depths
of the dungeons in which were justly immured those suspected persons
who, for three years, had been invoking civil war upon their country.
7'he evils complained of were inevitable. The people were in a state of re-
volution, and it was their duty to take energetic measures for their welfare.
Those critical moments were now past, and the declarations just issued
by the Convention would suillce to allay the disturbances. Besides, where-
fore an extraordinary jurisdiction ? The old laws were still in force, and
were sufficient for pro\'ocations to murder. Was it a new martial law that
members were desirous of establishing ?
By a contradiction very common among parties, those who had demanded
the extraordinary jurisdiction of the 17th of August, those who \vere about
to demand that of the revolutionary tril)unal, inveighed against a law^ whicli,
they said, was a law of blood. " A law of blood !" exclaimed Kersaint ;
*' when it is, on the contrary, the spilling of blood that I wish to prevent !"
An adjournment, however, was vehemently called for. " To adjourn the
repression of murders," cried Vergniaud, "is to order them. The foes of
France are in arms upon our territory, and you would have the French citizens,
instead of fighting them, slaughter one another like the soldiers of Cadmus !"
At length the motion of Kersaint and Buzot was adopted entire. A decree
was passed ttiat laws should be prepared for the punishment of instigators to
murder, and for the organization of a departmental guard.
This sitting of the 24th had caused a great agitation in the pulilic mind ;
yet no name had been mentioned, and the charges brouglit forward were but
general. Next day, the deputies met with all the resentments of the preced-
ing day rankling within them, the one party murmuring as'ainst the decrees
that had been passed, the other regretting that it had not said enough against
what it termed the disors;amzin2; faction. While some thus attacked and
others defended the decrees. Merlin, formerly usher and municipal officer of
Thionville, afterwards a member of the Legislative Assembly, where he
signalized himself among the most determined patriots — Merlin, famous for
his ardour and his intrepidity, demanded permission to speak. " The order
of the day," said he, " is to ascertain if, as Lasomre yesterday assured me,
there exists in the bosom of the National Convention a faction desirous of
establishing a triumvirate or a dictatorship. Let all suspicions cease, or let
Lasource point out the guilty persons, and I swear to stab them before the
face of the Assembly." Lasource, thus pointedly called upon to explain
2L
398 HISTORY OF THE
himself, reported his conversation with Merlin, and again designated, but
without naming them, the ambitious men who wished to exalt themselves
upon the ruins of demolished royalty. " It is they who have instigated to
murder and plunder, who have issued orders of arrest against members of
the liegislative Assembly, who point the dagger against the courageous
members of the Convention, and who impute to the people the excesses
perpetrated by themselves." He added that, when the time should arrive,
he would tear off the veil which he had only lifted, were he even to perish
under their blows.
Still, however, the triumvirs were not named. Osselin ascended the tri-
bune, and mentioned the deputation of Paris of which he was a member.
He said that it was against that body that jealousy was so studiously excited,
but that it was neither profoundly ignorant enough, nor profoundly wicked
enough, to have conceived plans of a triumvirate or a dictatorship ; that he
would take his oath to the contrary ; and he called for ignominy and death
against the first who should be caught meditating such plans. " Let every
one," added he, " follow me to the tribune, and make the same declaration."
— " Yes," exclaimed Rebecqui, the courageous friend of Barbaroux; "yes,
that party charged with tyrannical projects exists, and I will name it — it is
Kobespierre's party. Marseilles knows this, and has sent us hither to
oppose it."
This bold apostrophe produced a strong sensation in the Assembly. All
eyes turned towards Robespierre. Danton hastened to speak, for the pur-
pose of healing divisions, and of preventing accusations which he knew to
be in part directed against himself. "That day," said he, "will be a glo-
rious one for the republic, on which a frank and brotherly explanation shall
dispel all jealousies. People talk of dictators, of triumvirs ; but that charge
is vague, and ought to be signed." — " I will sign it !" airain exclaimed Re-
becqui, rushing to the bureau. "Good," rejoined Danton; "if there be
guilty persons, let them be sacrificed, even though they were my dearest
friends. For my part, my life is known. In the patriotic societies, on the
10th of August, in the executive council, I have served the cause of liberty,
without any private view, and with the energy of my disposition. For my
own person, then, I fear no accusations ; but I wish to save everybody else
from them, Tliere is, I admit, in the deputation of Paris, a man who might
be called the Royou of the republicans — that is Marat. I have frequently
been charged with being the instigator of his placards ; but I appeal to the
president, and beg him to declare if, in the communes and the committees,
he has not seen me frequently at variance with Marat. For the rest, that
writer, so vehemently accused, has passed part of his life in cellars and pri-
sons. Suffering has soured his temper, and his extravagances ought to be
excused. But let us leave mere individual discussions, and endeavour to
render them subservient to the public welfare. Decree the penalty of death
against any one who shall propose either a dictator or a triumvirate." This
motion was hailed with applause.
" That is not all," resumed Danton ; " there is another apprehension dif-
fused among the public. That, too, ought to be dispelled. It is alleged that
part of tlie deputies are meditating the federative system and the division of
France into a great number of sections. It is essential that we should form
one whole. Declare, then, by another decree, the unity of France and of
its government. These foundations laid, let us discard our jealousies, let us
be united, and push forward to our goal."
Buzot, in reply to Danton, observed that the dictatorship was a thing that
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 399
might be assumed and was not likely to be demanded ; and that to enact
laws against sucli a demand was illusory ; that, as lor the federative system,
nobody dreamt of it; that the plan of a departmental guard was a mean of
unity, since all the departments would be called upon in common to guard
the national representation ; that, for ihe rest, it mi^lit l)e well to make a law
on that subject, but that it ouglit to be maturely weighed, and in consequence
the propositions of Danton ought to be referred to the committee of six de-
creed on t!ie preceding day.
Robespierre, personally accused, asked leave to speak in his turn. He
set out with declaring that it was not himself that he was going to defend,
but the public weal, attacked in his person. Addressing Rebecqui, " Citi-
zen," said he, " who have not been afraid to accuse me, I thank you. In
your courage I recognise the celebrated city which has deputed you. The
country, you, and myself, will be gainers by this accusation.
"A party," he continued, "has been pointed out as meditating a new
tyranny, and I liave been called its chief. The charge is vague ; but, thanks
to all that I have done for liberty, it will be easy for me to reply to it. It
was I, who, in the Constituent Assembly, for three years combated all the
factions, whatever name they borrowed. It was I who combated the court,
and disdained its gifts. It was I " — " That is not the question,"
exclaimed several deputies. " Let him justify himself," replied Tallien.
"Since I am accused of ti'cason against the country," resumed Robespierre,
" have I not a right to rebut the charge by the evidence of my whole life ?"
He then began again to enumerate his two-fold services against the aristo-
cracy, and the false patriots who assumed the mask of liberty. As he uttered
these words, he pointed to the right side of the Convention. Osselin, him-
self tired of this enumeration, interrupted Robespierre, and desired him to
give a frank explanation. "The question," said Lecointe-Puiravaux, "does
not relate to what you b.ave done, but to what you are charsfed of doing at
the present moment." Robespierre then fell back upon the lilicrty of opinion,
upon the sacred right of defence, upon the public weal, equally compromised
with himself in this accusation. Affain he was exhorted to be brief, but he
proceeded with the same diffuseness as before. Referring to the famous
decrees passed on his motion against the re-election of the Constituents, and
against the nomination of deputies to places in the gift of the government,
he asked if those were proofs of aml)ition. Then, recriminating on his ad-
versaries, he renewed the accusation of federalism, and concluded by de-
manding the adoption of the decrees moved by Danton, and a serious
investigation of tlie charge preferred against himself. Barbaroux, out of
patience, hastened to the bar. " Barbaroux of Marseilles," said he, " comes
to sign the denunciation made against Robespierre by Rebecqui." He then
related a very insignificant and oft-repeated story, namely, that before the
10th of August, Panis took him to Robespierre's, and that, on leaving, after
this interview, Panis presented Rol)espierre to him as the only man, the only
dictator, capable of saving the public weal ; and that, upon this, he, Barba-
roux, i-eplied that the Marsellais would never bow their heads before either
a king or a dictator.
We have already detailed these circumstances, and the reader has had an
opportunity of judiriiiL'' whether tliese vaafue and trivial expressions of Robes-
pierre's friends furnished sudicient ground for an accusation. Barbaroux
reviewed, one after another, the imputations tlirown out against the Giron-
dins. He pro^sed that federalism should be proscribed by a decree, and
that all the members of the National Convention should swear to sutler them-
400 HISTORY OF THE
selves to be blockaded in tlie capital, and to die there, rather than leave it.
After prolonged plaudits, Barbaroux resumed, and said that, as for the design
of a dictatorship, it could not be disputed ; that the usurpations of the com-
mune, the orders issued against members of the national representation, the
commissioners sent into the departments, all proved a project of domination;
but that the city of Marseilles watched over the safety of its deputies ; that,
ever prompt to anticipate beneficial decrees, it despatched the battalion of
federalists, in spite of the royfil veto, and that now it was sending off eight
hundred of its citizens, to whom their fathers had given a brace of pistols, a
sword, a musket, and an assignat of five hundred livres; that to these it had
joined two hundred cavalry, well equipped, and that this force would serve
to commence the departmental guard proposed for the safety of the Conven-
tion. As for Robespierre," added Barbaroux, "I deeply regret having
accused him, for I once loved and esteemed him. Yes, we all loved and
esteemed him, and yet we have accused him. Let him acknowledge his
faults, and we will desist. Let him cease to complain, for, if he has saved
liberty by his writings, we have defended it with our persons. Citizens,
when the day of perU shall arrive, then people will be able to judge us ;
then we shall see if the writers of placards have the courage to die along
with us !"
Numerous plaudits accompanied Barbaroux to his seat. At the word pla-
cards, Marat demanded permission to speak. Cambon also asked it and
obtained the preference. He then denounced placards in which a dictator-
ship was proposed as indispensable, and which were signed with Marat's
name. At these words, every one moved away from him, and he replied
with a smile to the aversion that was manifested for him. Cambon was fol-
lowed by other accusers of Marat and of the commune. Marat long strove
to obtain permission to speak; but Panis gained it before him in order to an-
swer the allegations of Barbaroux. Panis, in a clumsy manner, denied real
acts, but which proved lilde, and which it would have been better to admit,
and to insist on their insignificance. He was then interrupted by Brissot,
who asked him the reason of the order of arrest issued against himself.
Panis appealed to circumstances, which, he said, had been too readily for-
gotten, to the terror and confusion which then overwhelmed men's minds, to
the multitude of denunciations against the conspirators of the 10th of August,
to the strong rumours circulated against Brissot, and the necessity for inves-
tigating them.
After tliese long explanations, every moment interrupted and resumed,
Marat, still insisting on being heard, at length obtained permission to speak,
when it was no longer possible to refuse it. It was the first time that he had
appeared in tlie tril)une. The siglit of him produced a Inirst of indignation,
and a tremendous uproar was raised against him. " Down ! down !" was
the general cry. Slovenly in his dress, Avearing a cap, which he laid down
upon the tribune, and surveying his audience with a convulsive and con-
temptuous smile, " I have," said he, " a great number of personal enemies
in this Assembly.". . . " All ! all !" cried most of the deputies. " I liave in
this Assembly," resumed Marat, with the same assurance, " a great number
of personal enemies. I recall them to modesty. Tiet them spare their
ferocious clamours against a man who has served liberty and themselves
more than they imagine.
" People talk of a triumvirate, of a dictatorship — a plan which they attri-
bute to the deputation of Paris. AVell ; it is due to justice to declare that
my colleagues, and especially Robespierre and Danton, have always been
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 401
hostile to it, and that I have always had to combat them on this point. I
was the first and the only one among all the political writers of France, who
thought of this measure as the only expedient for crushing traitors and con-
spirators. It is I alone who ought to be punished; but, before you punish,
you ought to hear." These words were followed by some plaudits from a
few members. Marat continued ; " Amidst the everlasting machinations of
a perfidious King, of an abominable court, and of false patriots, who, in
both Assemblies, sold the public liberty, will you reproach me for having
devised the only means of salvation, and for having called down vengeance
upon guilty heads? No; for the people would condemn you. It has felt
that it^'had but this expedient left, and it is by making itself dictator that it
has delivered itself from traitors.
" I have shuddered more than any other at the idea of these terrible move-
ments, and it is that they might not prove for ever vain that I should have
wished them to be directed by a just and firm hand. If, at the storming of
the Bastille, the necessity of that measure had been understood, five hundred
guilty heads would have fallen at my bidding, and peace would have been
insured from that time. But, for want of the display of this energy, equally
wise and necessary, one hundred thousand patriots have been slaughtered,
and one hundred thousand more are threatened with slaughter. As a proof
that it was not my wish to convert this dictator, tribune, triumvir — the name
is of no consequence — into a tyrant such as stupidity might conceive, but a
victim devoted to the country, whose lot no ambitious man would have
envied, is, that I proposed at the same time that his authority should last for-
a few days only, tliat it should be limited to the power of condemning
traitors, and even that a cannon-ball should, during that time, be fastened to
his leg, that he might always be in the power of the people. My ideas,
revolting as may appear to you, tended only to the public welfare.* If you
were yourselves not enlightened enough to comprehend me, so much the
worse for you !"
The profound silence which had prevailed thus far was interrupted by
some bursts of laughter, which did not disconcert the speaker, who was far
more terrible than ludicrous. He resumed. " Such was my opinion, writ-
ten, signed, and publicly maintained. If it were false, it would have been
right to combat it, to enlighten me, and not to denounce me to despotism.
" I have been accused of ambidon ; but look at and judge me. Had I
but condescended to set a price upon my silence, I might have been gorged
with gold — and I am poor. Persecuted without ceasing, I wandered from
cellar to cellar, and I have preached truth from a wood-pile.
" As for you, open your eves. Instead of wasting time in scandalous
discussions, perfect the declaration of riglits, establish the constitution, and
lay the foundations of the just and free government which is the real object
of your labours."
A general attention had been paid to tliis strange man, and the Assembly,
stupified by a system so alarming and so deeply calculated, liad kept silence.
«
"There is no kind of folly which may not come into the head of man. and. what is
worse, which may not for a moment be realized. Marat had several ideas which were unal-
terable. The Revolution had its enemies, and, according to him, in order to insure its dura-
tion, these were to be destroyed ; he thou<iht no means more obvious than to exterminate
them ; and to name a dictator, whose functions should be limited to proscription ; he preached
openly these two doctrines without cruelty, but with an air of cynicism equally regardless
of the rules of decency and the lives of men ; and despising as weak-minded all who styled
his projects atrocious instead of regarding them as profound." — Mignet. E.
VOL. I. — 51 2 L 2
402 HISTORY OF THE
Emboldened by this silence, some partisans of Marat had applauded ; but
their example was not followed, and Marat resumed his place without
plaudits, but without any demonstrations of hostility.
Vergniaud, the purest, the most prudent, of the Girondins, deemed it
right to speak, in order to rouse the indignation of the Assembly. He de-
plored the misfortune of having to answer a man who had not cleared him-
self from the decrees issued against him, — a man all dripping with calumnies,
gall, and blood. The murmurs were renewed; but he proceeded with
firmness, and, after having distinguished in the deputation of Paris, David,
Dussaulx, and some other members, he took, in hand the famous circular of
the commune, which we have alreatly quoted, and read the whole of it.
As, however, it was already known, it did not produce so much effect as
another paper which Boileau, the deputy, read in his turn. It was a hand-
bill printed by Marat that very day, in which he said, "A single reflection
oppresses me ; namely, that all my efforts to save the people, Avill end in
nothing without a fresh insurrection. From observing the temper of most
of the deputies to the National Convention, I despair of the public welfare.
If the bases of the constitution are not laid in the first eight sittings, expect
nothing more from this Assembly. Fifty years of anarchy await you, and
you will not emerge from it except by means of a dictator, a true patriot and
statesman prating people! if thou didst but know how to actP''
The reading of this paper was frequently interrupted by bursts of indig-
nation. As soon as it was finished, a great number of members fell foul of
Marat. Some threatened him, and cried, " To the Abbaye I to the guillo-
tine!"* while others loaded him with contempt. A fresh smile was his
only answer to all the attacks levelled at him. Boileau demanded a decree
of accusation, and the greater part of the assembly was for putting the ques-
tion to vote. Marat coolly insisted on being heard. They refused to hear
him unless at the bar. At length he obtained the tribune. According to
his usual expression, he reccdled his enemies to modesfjj. As for the decrees
Avhich members had not been ashamed to throAV in his teeth, he gloried in
them, because they were the price of his courage. Besides, the people, in
sending him to this national assembly, had annulled the decrees, and decided
between his accusers and himself. As for the paper whicli had just been
read, he would not disown it ; for falsehood, he said, never approached his
lips, and fear was a stranger to his heart.
" To demand a recantation of me," added he, " is to require me not to
see what I do see, not to feel what I do feel, and there is no power under
the sun capable of producing this reversal of ideas, I can answer for the
purity of my heart, but I cannot change my tlioughts. They are what the
nature of tilings suggests to me." Marat then informed the Assembly that
this paper, printed as a placard ten days before, had been reprinted against
his will by his bookseller ; but that he had given, in the first number of the
* This fatal instrument was named after its inventor, of whom the BiograpMe Moderns
gives the following account: — " M. Guiilotin, a physician at Paris, born in 1738, was
appointed a member of the National Assembly, and attracted attention chiefly by his
great gentleness of disposition. In 1789 he made a speech on the penal code, wherein a
tone of p;reat humanity was perceptible, and which terminated by a proposal for substituting,
as less cruel than the cord, that fatal machine, the guillotine, which in the end received so
many victims. Some persons, carried away by the horror which this machine has excited,
have considered as a monster one of the gentlest and at the same time most obscure men of
'the Revolution. Nobody deplored more bitterly than M. Guiilotin the fatal use that has
heen made of his invention." E.
i
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 403
Jcurnal de la Repiiblique, a new exposition of his principles, with which he
was sure the Assembly would be satisfied if it would but listen to it.
The Assembly ar-tually consented to the readin<r of the article, and
appeased by the modcirate expressions of Marat in this article, entitled his
" New March," it treated him with less severity ; nay, he even obtained
some tokens of ai)probation. But he airain ascended the tribune with his
usual audacity, and presumed to lecluri! his colleagues on the danger of giving
way to passion and prejudice; saying that, if his journal had not appeared
that very day to exculpate him, they would have sent him blindly to prison.
" But," added he, showing a pistol which he always carried in his pocket,
and which he pointed to his forehead, "I had wherewithal to remain free;
and, had you decreed my accusation, I would have blown out my brains in
this very tribune. Such is the fruit of iny laI)ours, my dangers, my suffer-
ings ! Well, I shall stay among you to defy your fury !" At these con-
cluding words, his colleagues, whose indignation was rekindled, cried out
that he was a madman, a villain, and a long tumult ensued.
The discussion had lasted several hours, and what had been elicited ?
Nothing whatever concerning the alleged plan of a dictatorsliip for the benefit
of a triumvirate, but much relative to the character of the parties and their
respective strength. The Assembly had l)eheld DaiUon easy and full of
good-will for his colleagues, on condition that he should not be annoyed on
account of his conduct ; Robespierre, full of spleen and pride ; Marat, asto-
nishing by his cynicism and boldness, repelled even by his party, but
striving to accustom minds to his atrocious systems; all three, in short, suc-
ceeding in the Revolution by difl^erent Acuities and vices, not agreeing
together, reciprocally disowning each other, and evidendy actuated solely
by that love of influence, which is natural to all men, and which is not vet
a project of tyranny. The Assembly united with the Girondins in proscrib-
ing September and its horrors ; it decreed them the esteem due to dieir
talents and their intcrgrity ; but it deemed their accusations exaggerated and
imprudent, and could not help perceiving in their indignation some personal
feelings.
From that moment, the Assembly divided itself into a right side and a left
side, as in the first days of the Constituent. On the right side were ranged
all the Girondins, and those who, without being also personally connected
with their party, yet participated in their generous indignation. To the
centre resorted, in considerable numbers, those uprin-ht and peaceable depu-
ties, who, not being urged either by character or talent to take any other
share in the struggle of parties than by their vote, sought obscurity and
safety by mixing with the crowd. Their numerical infiuence in the Assem-
bly, the respect, still very great, diat was paid them, the anxiety shown by
the Jacobin and municipal party to justify itself in Uieir opinion — 'all served
to encourage them. They fondly believed that the authority of the Conven-
tion would suffice in time to daimt the asjitators ; they were not sorry to
check the energy of the Girondins, and to bo able to tell them that their
accusations were rash. They were still but reasonable and impartial; at
times somewhat jealous of die too frequent and too brilliant eloquence of the
right side ; but they were soon destined to I)ecome weak and cowardly in
the presence of tyranny. They were called the Plain, and by way of oppo-
sition die name of Mountain was given to the left side, where all the .Taco-
bins were crowded together. On the benches of this Mountain were seen
the deputies of Paris, and the deputies of the departments who owed their
nomination to correspondence with tlie clubs, or who had been gained since
404 HISTORY OF THE
their arrival by the idea that no quarter ought to be given to the enemies of
the Revohition. It comprehended, moreover, some distinguished, but exact,
severe, positive minds, who condemned the theories and the philanthropy
of the Girondins as vain abstractions. The Mountaineers, however, were
still far from numerous. The Plain, united with the right side, composed
an immense majority, which had conferred the presidency on Petion, and
which approved of the attacks of the Girondins on September, excepting
the personalities, which seemed too premature and too unfounded.
The Assembly had passed to the order of the day upon the reciprocal
accusations of the two parties ; but the decree of the preceding day was
upheld, and three points were determined upon: 1. To demand of the
minister of the interior an exact and faithful report of the state of Paris ;
2. To draw up a projet de lot against the instigators of murder and pillage;
3. To devise means for coUectinjf round the Convention a departmental
guard. As to the report on the state of Paris, it was known with what
energy and in what spirit that task would be performed, since it was com-
mitted to Roland. As for the commission charged with the two projcts
against written instigations, and for the raising of a guard, the like hopes
were conceived of its labours, because it was entirely composed of Giron-
dins. Buzot, Lasource, and Kersaint, formed part of it.
It was to these two latter measures that the Mountaineers were most hos-
tile. They asked if tl\e Girondins meant to renew martial law and the
massacres of the Champ de Mars ; and if the Convention intended to sur-
round itself with satellites and life-guards, like the last King. They again
brought forward — so the Girondins alleged — all the reasons urged by the
court against the camp near Paris.
Many, even of the most ardent members of the left side, were themselves,
in their quality of memliers of the Convention, decidedly adverse to the
usurpations of the commune; and, setting aside the deputies of Paris, none
of them defended it when attacked, as it was eveiy day. Accordingly,
decrees briskly followed decrees. As the commune deferred renewing itself,
in execution of the decree prescribing the re-election of all the administra-
tive bodies, the executive council was ordered to superintend its renewal,
and to report on the subject to the Assembly within three days. A commis-
sion of six members was appointed to receive the declaration signed by all
those who had deposited effects at the Hi^tel de Ville, and to investigate the
existence of those effects, or the use to which they had been applied by the
municipality. The directory of the department, which the insurrectional
commune had reduced to tlie tide and duties of a mere administrative com-
mission, was reinstated in all its functions, and resumed its title of directory.
The communal elections, for the appointment of the mayor, the municipality,
and the general council, which, by the contrivance of the Jacobins, Avere to
have taken place viva voce, for the purpose of intimidating the weak, were
again rendered secret by a confirmation of the existing law. The elections
already made in this illegal manner were annulled, and the sections pro-
ceeded to new ones in the prescribed form. Lastly, all prisoners confined
without any mandate of arrest were ordered to be forthwith liberated. This
was a severe blow given to the committee of svrveiVancc, which was parti-
cularly inveterate against persons.
All these decrees had been passed in the first days of October ; and the
commune, being closely pressed, found itself obliged to yield to the ascend-
ency of the Convention. The committee of surveillance, however, would
not suffer itself to be beaten without resistance. Its members repaired to
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 405
the Assembly, saying that they came to confound their enemies. Having in
their custody the papers found in the house, of Laporte, intendant of the
civil list, condemned, as the reader will recoltecl, by the tribunal of the 17th
of August, they had discovered, they said, a letter, containing a statement
of the sums which certain decrees passed by the preceding Assemblies had
cost. They came to unmask tiie deputies sold to the court, and to prove the
falseness of their patriotism. " Name them," cried the Assembly with
indignation. " We cannot name them yet," replied the members of the
committee. In order to repel the calumny, a commission of twenty-four
deputies, who had not been members of the Constituent and Legislative
Assemblies, was immediately appointed to examine the papers, and to make
their report on the suliject. Marat, the inventor of this device, boasted in
his journal that he had repaid the Rolandists, tlie accusers of the commune,
in their own coin ; and he proclaimed tlie pretended discovery of a treason
of the Girondins. On the examination of the papers, however, none of the
existing deputies were found to be compromised, and the committee of aiir-
veillance was declared guilty of calumny. The papers being too voluminous
for the twenty-four deputies to prosecute the examination at the Hotel de
Ville, they were removed to one of the committee-rooms of the Assembly.
Marat, finding himself thus deprived of rich materials for his daily accusa-
tions, was highly incensed, and alleged in his journal that there was a design
to destroy the evidences of all the ti-easons.
The Assembly, having thus repressed the excesses of the commune,
directed its attention to the executive power, and decided that the ministers
could no longer be taken from among its members. Danton, obliged to
choose between the functions of minister of justice and those of member of
the Convention, preferred, like Mirabcau, those which insured the tribune
to him, and quitted the ministry without rendering any account of tlie secret
expenditure, saying that he had delivered that account to the council. The
fact Avas not exactly so : but the Assembly, without looking too closely into
the matter, suffered the excuse to pass. On tiie refusal of Francois de
Neufchateau, Garat,* a distinguished writer, a clever metaphysician, and
who had acquired repvitation by the ability with which he edited the Jour-
nal de Paris, accepted the post of minister of justice. Servan, weary of
a laborious administration, which was above, not his faculties, but his
strength, preferred the command of the army of observation that was form-
ing along the Pyrenees. TiCbrun was therefore directed to take, ad interim,
the portfolio of war, in addition to that of foreign aflairs. Lastlv, Roland
offered his resignation, being tired of an anarchy so contrary to his integrity
and his inflexible love of order. The Girondins proposed to the Assembly
to request him to retain the portfolio. The Mountaineers, and Danton in
particular, whom he had gready thwarted, opposed this step as not consistent
with the dignity of the Assembly. Danton complained that he was a w^eak
man, and under the goverimient of his wife. In reply to this charge of
weakness, his opponents referred to Roland's letter of the IM of September;
and they might, moreover, have adduced the opposition which he, Danton,
* " D. J. Garat, the younger, was a man of letters, a member of the institute, and profes-
sor of history in the Lyceum of Paris. In 1792 he was appointed minister of justice, and
commissioned to inform Louis of his rondcmnafion. In the following vcar he lierame minister
of the interior. Garat survived all the perils of the Kevolution, and, in 1806, he pronounced
in the senate one o^ the most eloquent speeches that were ever made on the victories of
the Emperor Napoleon. Garat published several works on the Revolution." — Biographic
Moderne. E.
406 HISTORY OF THE
had experienced in the council. The Assembly, however, passed to the
order of the day. Being pressed by the Girondins, and by all good men,
Roland continued in the ministry. " I remain in it," he nobly wrote to the
Assembly, " since calumny attacks me there, since dangers there await me,
since the Convention has appeared to wish me still to be there. It is too
glorious," he added, at the conclusion of his letter, " that no worse reproach
can be brought against me than ray union with courage and virtue."
The Assembly then divided itself into various committees. It appointed
a committee of surveillance, composed of thirty members ; a second, of war,
consisting of twenty-lour ; a third, of accounts, of fifteen ; a fourth, of crimi-
nal and civd legislation, of forty-eight ; a fifth, of assignats, specie, and
finances, of forty-two. A sixth committee, more important than all the others,
was added to the preceding. It was to direct its attention to the principal
object for which the Convention had assembled ; namely, the preparation of
a plan of constitution. It was composed of nine members, celebrated in
different ways, and almost all holding the sentiments of the right side.
Phdosophy had its representatives there in the persons of Sieyes, Condorcet,
and Thomas Payne, the American, recendy elected a French citizen and a
member of the National Convention; the Gironde was particularly repre-
sented by Gensonne, Vergniaud, Petion, and Brissot: the centre by I3ar-
rere,* and the Mountain by Danton. The reader will doubtless be sur-
prised to see this tribune so resdess, but so far from speculative, placed in a
committee so thoroughly phdosophical ; and we should think that the
character of Robespierre, if not his talents, ought to have gained him tliis
appointment. It is certain that Robespierre coveted this distinction much
more, and that he was severely mortified because he failed to obtain it. It
was conferred in preference on Danton, whose natural talents fitted him for
anything, and whom no deep resentment had yet separated from his col-
leagues. It was this composition of the committee that so long delayed the
completion of the plan of the constitution.
After having thus provided for the restoration of order in the capital, for
the organization of the executive power, for the formation of committees and
for the preparatives of the constitution, there was yet left a last subject, one
of the most serious to which the Assembly had to dii-ect its attention — the
fate of Louis XVI. and his famUy. On this point the most profound silence
had been observed in the Assembly : it was talked of everywhere, at the
Jacobins, at the commune, in all places, public and private, with the single
exception of the Convention. Some emigrants had been taken in arms ; and
they were on their way to Paris for the purpose of being made amenable to
the criminal laws. On this subject, one voice was raised — and this was tlie
first — and inquired if, instead of punishing subaltern culprits, the Assembly
did not intend to think of the more exalted ones confined in die Temple.t
* " I useJ to meet Barrere at a table d'hote. I considered him of a mild and amiable
temper. He was very well bred, and seemed to love the Revolution from a sentiment of
benevolence. His association with Robespierre, and the court which he paid to the dilferent
parties he successively joined, and afterwards deserted, were less the elTect of an evil disposi-
tion, than of a timid and versatile character, and the conceit which made it incumbent on him
to appear as a puhlic man. His talents as an orator were by no means of the first order.
He was afterwards snrnamed the Anacreon of the guillotine ; but when I knew him, he was
only the Anacreon of the Revolution, upon which, in his 'Point du Jour,' he wrote some very
amorous strains." — Durnumt. Yi.
•|-"The smiiU tower of the Tem|)lo in which the Kin? was then confined, stood with its
back against the great tower, without any interior communication, and formed a longscpiare,
flanked by two turrets. In one of these turrets there was a narrow staircase, that led troni
FREN'CII REVOLUTION. 407
At this question profound silence pervaded the Assembly. Barbaroux was
the first to speak ; and insisted that, before it should be determined whether
the Convention was to try Louis XVI., it ought to be decided whcUier the
Convention should be a judicial body, for it had other culprits to try besides
those in the Temple. In raising this question, Barl)aroux alluded to the
proposal for constituring the Convention an extraordinary court for trying
itself fAe agitators, the triumvirs, &c. After some discussion, the proposi-
tion was referred to the committee of legislation, that it might examine the
questions to which it gave rise.
- At this moment tlie military situation of France was much changed. It
was nearly the middle of October. The enemy was already driven out of
Champagne and Flanders, and the foreign territory was invaded on three
points, the Palatinate, Savoy, and the county of Nice.
We have seen the Prussians retiring from the camp of La Lune, retreating
towards the Argonne, strewing the defiles with the sick and the dead, and
escaping total destruction solely tlirougli the negligence of our generals, who
the first floor to a gallery on the platform ; in the other were small rooms answering to each
story of the tower. The body of th*^ huildirig was tour stories high. 'J'he first consisted of
an antecliamber, a dining-room, and a small room in the turret, where there was a library
containing from twelve to fifteen hundred volumes. The second story was divided nearly
in the same manner. The largest room was the Queen's bedchamber, in which the dauphin
also slept ; the second, which was separated from the tjueen's by a small antechamber
almost without light, was occupied by Madame lloyalc, and Madame Eiizabclh. This cham-
ber was the only way to the turret-room in this story, and the turret-room was the only place
of oflice for this whole range of building, being in common for the royal family, the munici-
pal officers, and the soldiers. The King's apartments were on the third story. He slept in
the great room, and made a study of the turret-closet. There was a kitchen separated from
the King's chamber by a small dark room, which had been successively occupied by M. de
(yhamilly and M. de Hue, and on which the seals were now fixed. The fourth story was
shut up ; and on the ground floor, there were kitchens of which no use was made. The
King usually rose at six in the morning. He shaved himself, and I dressed his hair ; he
then went to his reading-room, which being very small, the municipal officer on duty remained
in the bed-chamber with the door open, that he might always keep the King in sight. His
majesty continued praying on his knees till five or six o'clock, and then read till nine.
During that interval, after putting his chamber to rights, ami preparing the breakfast, I went
down to the Queen, who never opened her door till 1 arrivt-d, in order to prevent the muni-
cipal officer from going into her apartment. At nine o'clock, the Queen, the children, and
Madame Elizabeth, went up to the King's chamber to breakfast. .•\t ten, the King and his
family went down to the Queen's chamber, and there passed the day. He employed him-
self in educating his son, made him recite passages from Corneillc an<l Racine, gave him
lessons in geography, and exercised him in colouring the maps. The Queen, on her part,
was employed in the education of her daughter, and these dilferent lessons lasted till eleven
o'clock, 'i'he remaining time till noon was passed in needlework, knitting, or making
tapestry. At one o'clock, when the weather was fine, the ruyal family were cotKlucled to
the garden by four municipal oflTicers, and a commander of a legion of the national guards.
At two we returned to the tower, where I served the dinner, at which time Santerre regularly
came to the Temple, attended by two aides-de-camp, 'i'he King sometimes spoke to him —
the Queen, never. In the evening, th(! family sat round a table, while the Queen read to
them from books of history, or other works proper to instruct and amuse the children.
Madame Elizabeth took the book in her turn, and in this maimer they read till eif;ht o'clock.
After the dauphin had supfied, I undressed him, and the Queen heard him say his prayers.
At nine the King went to supper, and afterwards went for a moment to the Queen's cham-
ber; shook hands with her and her sister for the night; kissed his children; and then
retired to the turret-room, where he sale reading till midnight.
The Queen and the princesses locked themselves in, and one of t'.ie municipal officers
remained in the little room which parted their chamber, where he |)assed the night ; the other
followed his majestjs In this manner was the time passed as long as the King remained in
the small tower." — Clcry. E.
408 HISTORY OF THE
severally pursued the enemy with a different object. The Duke of Saxe-
Teschen had not been more successful in his attack on the Netherlands.
While the Prussians were marching upon the Argonne, that prince was not
willing to be left behind, and had deemed it his duty to attempt some bril-
liant enterprise. Though, however, our northern frontier had not been put
into a state of defence, he was almost as destitute of means as ourselves,
and had great difficulty in collecting a scanty materiel and fifteen thousand
men. Then, feigning a false attack upon our whole line of fortresses, he
occasioned the breaking up of one of our little camps, and suddenly moved
towards Lille, to attempt a siege which the greatest generals could not have
carried on without powerful armies and a considerable materiel.
In war, nothing but the possibility of success can justify cruel enterprises.
The duke was only able to approach one point of the fortress, and there
established batteries of howitzers, which bombarded it for six successive
days, and burned more than two hundred houses. It is said that the Arch-
duchess Christine insisted on witnessing this horrible scene. If this were
the case, she could not witness anything but the heroism of the besieged
and the uselessness of Austrian barbarity. The people of Lille, resisting
with noble obstinacy, would not consent to surrender ; and, on the 8th of
October, while tlie Prussians were abandoning the Argonne, Duke Albert
was obliged to quit Lille. General Labourdonnais, arriving from Soissons,
and Beurnonville, returning from Champagne, forced him to retreat rapidly
from our frontiers, and the resistance of the people of Lille, published
throughout all France, served to increase the general enthusiasm.
Nearly about the same time, Cusline* was attempting bold enterprises,
but with results more brilliant than solid, in the Palatinate. Attached to
Biron's army, which was encamped along the Rhine, he was placed, with
seventeen thousand men, at some distance from Spire. The grand invading
array had but feebly protected its rear, whilst advancing into the interior of
France. Weak detachments covered Spire, Worms, and Mayence. Cus-
tine, perceiving this, marched for Spire, and entered it without resistance
on the 30th of September. Emboldened by success, he penetrated on the
5th of October into Worms, without encountering any greater difficulties, and
obliged a garrison of two thousand seven hundred men to lay down their
arms. He then tpok Frankenthal, and immediately directed his attention
to the strong fortress of IMayence, which was the most important point of
retreat for the Prussians, and in which they had been so imprudent as to
leave but a moderate garrison. Custine, with seventeen thousand men and
destitute of materiel, could not attempt a siege ; but he resolved to try a
covp de main. The ideas which had roused France were agitating all Ger-
* " Count Adam Phillippe Custine, born at Metz in 1740, served as captain in the seven
years' war. Through the influence of the Duke of Choiseul, he obtained, in 1762, a regi-
ment of dragoons, which was called by his name. In 1780 he exchanged this for the regi-
ment of Saintonge, which was on the point of going to America, to the aid of the colonies.
On his return, he was appointed marechal de camp. In 1789 he was deputy of the nobility
of Metz, and was one of the first who declared for the popular party. He subsequently
entered the army of the North, and, 1792, made himself master of the pass of Porentruy.
He then received the command of the army of the Lower Rhine, and opened the campaign
by taking possession of Spire. He next took Worms, then the fortress of Mentz, and then
Frankfort-on-the-Maine, on which he laid heavy contributions. In 1793 he was denounced,
and received his dismissal, but the Convention afterwards invested him with the command
of the Northern army. But he had hardly time to visit the posts. Marat and Varennes
were uncensing in their accusations against him, and the revolutionary tribunal soon after-
wards condemned him to death." — Encyclopedia Americana. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 409
many, and especially those cities which had universities. Mayence was
one of these, and Ciistine contrived to establish a correspondence there. He
approached the walls, withdrew on the false report of the arrival of an
Austrian corps, returned, and, making great movements, deceived the enemy
as to the strength of his army. Deliberations were held in the fortress.
The design of capitulation was strongly supported by the partisans of the
French, and on the 21st of October the gates were opened to Custine. The
garrison laid down its arms, with the exception of eight hundred Austrians,
who rejoined the grand army. The intelligence of these lirilliant successes
spread rapidly and caused an extraordinary sensation. They had certainly
cost but little : at the same time, they were far less meritorious than the
firmness of the people of Lille, and the magnanimous coolness displayed at
St. Menehould ; but people were delighted with the transition from mere
resistance to conquest. Thus far all would have been right on Custine's
part, if, appreciating his position, he had possessed the skill to terminate
the campaign by a movement, which would have been practicable and
decisive.
At this moment the three armies of Dumouricz. Kellermnnn, and Custine,
were by the most fortunate chance so placed iliat they might have destroyed
the Prussians, and conquered by a single march the whole line of the Rhine
to the sea. If Dumouriez, less preoccupied by another idea, had kept Kel-
lermann under his command and pursued die Prussians with his eighty
thousand men; if, at the same time, Custine, descending the Rhine from
Mayence to Coblentz, had fallen upon tlieir rear, they must infalHbly have
been overpowered. Then, descending the Rhine to Holland, they might
have taken Duke Albert in the rear, and obliged liim either to lay down his
arms or to fight his way through them, and the whole Netherlands would
have been subdued. Treves and Luxemburg, comprised within the line
which we have described, would fall of course. All would be France as far
as the Rhine, and the campaign would be over in a month. Dumouriez
aboinided in genius, but his ideas had taken a different course. Impatient
to return to Belgium, he thought of nothing but hastening thither imme-
diately, to relieve Lille and to push Duke Albert in front. lie left Keller-
mann, therefore, alone to pursue the Prussians. The latter general might
still have marched upon Coblentz, passing between Luxemburg and Treves,
while Custine would be descending from Mayence. But Kellcrniann, who
was not enterprising, had not sufficient confidence in the capabihties of his
troops, which appeared harassed, and put them into cantonments around
Metz. Custine, on his part, desirous of rendering himself independent, and
of making brilliant incursions, had no inclination to join Kellermann and to
confine himself within the limit of the Rhine. He never thought, there-
fore, of descending to Coblentz. Thus this admirable plan was neglected,
so ably seized and developed by the greatest of our military historians.*
Custine, though clever, was haughty, passionate, and inconsistent. His
chief aim was to make himself independent of Biron and every other
general, and he entertained the idea of conquering around him. If he were
to take Manheim, he should violate the neutrality of the elector-palatine,
which the executive coujicil had forbidden him to do. He thought, there-
fore, of abandoning the Rhine, for the purpose of advancinsi into Germany.
Frankfort, situated on the Mayne, appeared to him a j)rize wortli seizing,
and thither he resolved to proceed. Nevertheless, this free commercial city,
• Jomini.
VOL. I. — 52 2 M
410 HISTORY OF THE
always neuter in the different wars, and favourably dit;posed towards the
French, did not deserve this mischievous preference. Being defenceless,
it was easy to enter, but difficult to maintain one's-self there, and conse-
quently it was useless to occupy it. Tliis excursion could have but one
object, that of levying contributions; and there was no justice in imposing
them on a population habitually neuter, and meriting by its very disposition
the good- will of France, whose principles it approved and to whom it
wished success. Custine committed the fault of entering the city. This
was on the 27th of October. He levied contributions, incensed the inhabit-
ants, whom he converted into enemies of the French, and ran the risk,
while proceeding towards the Mayne, of being cut oil' from the Rhine, either
by the Prussians, if they had ascended as far as Bingen, or by the elector-
palatine, if, breaking the neutrality, he had issued from Manheim,
The tidings of these incursions into the enemy's territory continued to
excite great joy in France, who was astonished to find herself conquering, a
few days only after she had been afraid of being conquered. The Prussians,
being alarmed, threw a flying bridge across the Rhine, for the purpose of
ascending along the right bank and driving away the French. Fortunately
for Custine, they were twelve days in crossing the river. Discouragement,
disease, and the separation of the Austrians, had reduced that army to fifty
thousand men. Clairfayt, with his eighteen thousand Austrians, had fol-
lowed the general movement of our troops towards Flanders, and was pro-
ceeding to the aid of Duke Albert. The corps of emigrants had been
disbanded, and the brilliant soldiery which composed it had either joined the
corps of Conde or passed into foreign service.
During these occurrences on the frontier of the North and of the Rhine,
we were gaining other advantages on the frontier of the Alps. Montesquiou,
who commanded the army of the South, invaded Savoy, and detached one
of his officers to occupy the county of Nice. This general, who had dis-
played in the Constituent Assembly all the abilities of a statesman, and who
had not had time to exhibit the qualities of a military commander, which he
is asserted to have possessed, had been summoned to the bar of the Legisla-
tive to account for his conduct, which had been deemed too dilatory. He had
found means to convince his accusers that the want of means and not of zeal
was the cause of his tardiness, and had returned to the Alps. He belonged,
however, to the first revolutionary generation, and this was incompatible
with the new one. Again he was sent for, and he was on the point of being
stripped of his command, when news arrived that he had entered Savoy.
His dismissal was then suspended, and he was left to continue his conquest.
According to the plan conceived by Dumouriez, when, as minister of
foreign affairs, he superintended the departments both of diplomacy and war,
France was to push her armies to her natural frontiers, the Rhine, and the
lofty chain of the Alps. To this end, it was necessary to conquer Belgium,
Savov, and Nice. France had tlius the advantage, in confining herself to
natural principles, of despoiling only the two enemies with whom she M'as
at war, the house of Austria and the court of Turin. It was this plan, which
failed in April in Belgium, and was deferred till now in Savoy, that Montes-
quiou was about to execute his portion of He gave a division to General
Anselme, with orders to pass the Var and to proceed for Nice upon a given
signal : he himself, with the greater part of his army, advanced from Greno-
ble upon Chambery; he caused the Sardinian troops to be threatened by St.
Genies, and, marching himself from the fort Barraux upon Mont-Melian, he
succeeded in dividing and driving them back into the valleys. While his
FRENCH REVOLUTIOX. 411
lieutenants were pursuing them, lie advnnced upon Chanibery, on the 28th
of September, and made his triumphal entry into that city, to the great satis-
i'action of the inliabitantri, who k)ved liberty like true sons of die mountains,
and France like men speaking" the same language, having tlie same manners,
and belonging to the same basin, lie immediately convoked an assenddy
of Savoyards, for the purpose of deliberating upon a question which could
i not be doubtful — the union of Savoy with France.
At the same moment, Anselme, reinforced by six thousand Marseillais,
whom he had demanded as auxiliaries, had approached the Var, an unequal
torrent, like all those which descend from lofty mountains, alternately swol-
len and dry, and incapable even of receiving a permanent bridge. Anselme
boldly crossed the Var, and occupied Nice, wdiich the (^ount St. Andre had
just abandoned, and which the magistrates had pressed him to enter, in order
to put a stop to the excesses of the populace, who were committing frightful
depredations. The Sardinian troops retired towards the upper valleys;
Anselme pursued them ; but he halted before a formidable post, that of
Saorgio, from which he could not drive the Piedmontese.
Meanwhile, the squadron of Admiral Truguet, combining its movements
Avith those of General Anselme, had obtained the surrender of Villafranca
and borne away for the litde principality of Oneglia. A great number of
privateers were accustomed to take refuge in Uiat port, and for this reason it
would be of service to reduce it. But, while a French boat was advancing
to parlev, the right of nations was violated, and several men were killed by
a general discharge. The admiral, laying his ships athwart the harbour,
poured upon it an overwhelming fire, and then landed some troops, Avhich
.sacked the town and made a great carnage among the monks, wdio were very
numerous there, and who were said to be the instigators of this act of treachery.
Such is the rigour of military law, Avhich was inflicted w^ithout mercy on the
unfortunate town of Oneglia. After this expedition, the French squadron
returned olF Nice, where Anselme, separated by the swelling ol' llie Var from
the rest of his army, was in a dangerous predicament. By carefuUy guard-
ing liim^cJf, however, against the post of Saorgio, and by treating the
inhabitants better than he had done,* he rendered his position teiuible, and
was enabled to retain his conquest.
Montesquiou was, meanwhile, advancing from Chanibery towards Geneva,
and was likely soon to find himself in presence of Switzerland, which enter-
tained extremely adverse feelings towards the French, and pretended to dis-
cover in tlie invasion of Savoy a danger to its neutrality.
Tlu! sentiments of the cantons in regard to us were widely diflVrent. All
the aristocratic repulilics condemned our Revolution. Berne, in particular,
and its avoyer. Stinger, held it in profound detestation ; and the more so,
because it furnished a subject of hi<rh gratification to the oppressed Bays de
Vaud. The Helvetic aristocracy, excited by Stinger and the English am-
bassador, called for war against us, and laid great stress on the massacre of
the Swiss guards on the lOtii of August, the disarming of a regiment at Aix,
and, lastly, llie occupation of the troi'ST''^ of Porentruy, which belonged to the
bishopric of Basle, and which Biron liad caused to be occupied, for the pur-
• " The rcpuWicans made a cruel use of their victory. The inhabitanls of Nice anJ the
neijjhhourinu country were rewarded tar the friendly reception they had given them, by
jiiuiuler and outrages of every description. A proclamation issued by (general Anselme
against these excesses met with no sort of attention ; and the commissioners appointed by
the Convention to intpaire into the disorders were unable to make any elTectual reparation." —
Alison. E.
412 HISTORY OF THE
pose of closing the Jura. The moderate party, nevertheless, gained the
ascendency, and an armed neutrality was determined upon. The canton of
Berne, still more irritated and distrustfid, sent a corps fVarmec to Nyon, and,
under the pretext of an application from the magistrates of Geneva, placed a
garrison in that city.
According to ancient treaties, Geneva, in case of a war between France
and Savoy, was not to receive a garrison from either power. Our envoy
immediately quitted the place, and the executive council, instigated by
Clavieres, who had formerly been banished from Geneva, and was jealous
of introducing the Revolution there, ordered Montesquiou to enforce the
execution of the treaties. He was instructed, moreover, to put a garrison
into the place, that is to say, to commit the same fault with which the Ber-
nese were reproached. Montesquiou, sensible, in the first place, that he
had not at the moment the means of taking Geneva, and in the next, that,
by violating the neutrality and involving himself in a war with Switzerland,
he should throw open the east of France and expose the right flank of our
defensive, resolved, on the one hand, to intimiclate Geneva, while, on the
other, he would endeavour to make the executive council listen to reason.
He therefore loudly insisted on the departure of the Bernese troops, and
strove to persuade the French ministry that this was all that could be re-
quired. His design was, in case of extremity, to bombard Geneva, and to
proceed, by a bold march, towards the canton of Vaud, for the purpose of
producing a revolution. Geneva consented to the departure of the Bernese
troops, on condition that Montesquiou should retire to the distance of ten
leagues, which he immediately did. This concession, however, was cen-
sured at Paris ; and Montesquiou, posted at Carouge, where he was sur-
rounded b}^ Genevese exiles, who were desirous of returning to their country,
was worried between the fear of embroilingr France with Switzerland, and
the fear of disobeying the executive council, which was incapable of appre-
ciating the soundest military and political views. This negotiation, pro-
longed by the distance of the places, was not yet brought near to a close,
though it was the end of October.
Such, then, was the state of our arms in October, 1792, from Dunkirk to
Basle, and from Basle to Nice. The frontier of Champagne was delivered
from the grand invasion ; the troops were proceeding from that province to-
wards Flanders, to relieve Lille, and to invade Belgium. Kellermann took
up his quarters in Lorraine, Custine, escaped from ihe control of Biron,
master of Mayence, and marching imprudently into the Palatinate and to the
Mayne, rejoiced France by his conquests, affrighted Germany, and indis-
creetly exposed himself to the risk of being cut off by the Prussians, who
were ascending the Rhine, in sick and beaten, but numerous bodies, and still
capable of overwhelming the little French army. Biron was still encamped
along the Rhine. Montesquiou, master of Savoy, in consequence of the
retreat of the Piedmontese beyond the Alps, and secured from fresh attacks
by the snow, had to decide the question of Swiss neutrality either by arms
or by negotiations. Lastly, Anselme, master of Nice, and supported by a
squadron, was enabled to resist in his position, in spite of the swelling of
the Var, and of the Piedmontese collected above him at the post of Saorgio.
While the war was about to be transferred from Champagne to Belgium,
Dumouriez had solicited permission to go to Paris for two or three days only,
for the purpose of concerting with the ministers the invasion of the Nether-
lands, and the general plan of all the military operations. His enemies re-
ported that he was coming to gain applause, and that he was leaving the
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 413
duties of his command for the sake of a frivolous gratification of vanity.
These reproaches were exaggerated, for Dumouriez's command suffered
nothing by his absence, and mere marches of troops could be performed
without him. His presence, on the contrary, was likely to be very useful
to the council for the determination of a general plan ; and, besides, he might
be forgiven an impatience of glory, so general among men, and so excusable
when it does not interfere with duties.
He arrived in Paris on the 11th of October. His situation was perplex-
ing, for he could not stand well with either of the two parties. He disliked
the violence of the Jacobins, and he had broken with the Girondins by expel-
ling them a few mondis before from tlie ministry. Very favourably received,
however, throughout all Champagne, he was still more warmly welcomed
in Paris, especially by the ministers, and by Roland himself, who discarded
all personal resentments when the public welfare was at stake. He present-
ed himself before the Conveniion on the 12th. No sooner was he announced,
than mingled acclamations and a[)plausc arose on all sides. In a simple,
energetif speech, he gave a brief sketch of the whole campaign of the Ar-
gonne, and bestowed the higliest commendations on liis troops, and on
Kellermann himself. His staff then brought forward a standard taken
from the emigjants, and offered it to the Assembly as a monument of the
vanity of their projects. Immediately afterwards the deputies hastened to
surround him, and the sitting was closed, in order to afford a free scope for
their congratulations. It was more especially the numerous deputies of the
Plain, the imparliah, as they w^ere termed, who, having neither rupture nor
revolutionary iadill'erence to lay to his charge, gave him tlie warmest and
most cordial welcome. The Girondins were not behindhand; yet, whether
it w-as their faidt or his, the reconciliation was not complete, and a lurking
relic of coolness was perceptible between tliem. Tlie Mountaineers, who
had reproached him with a momentary attachment to Louis XVI., and who
found him, in his manners, his merit, and his elevation, already too like the
Girondins, grudged him the testimonies paid to him in tliat quarter, and
supposed these testimonies to be more significant than tliey really were.
After the Convention, he had yet to visit the Jacobins, and this power had
then become so imposing, tliat the victorious ireneral could not omit paying
them his homage. It was there that opinion in fermentation formed all its
plans and issued its decrees. If an important law, a high political question,
a great revolutionary measure was to be brought lorward, the Jacobins,
always more prompt, hastened to open the discussion and to give their opi-
nion. Immediately afterwards, they thronged to the commune and to the
sections ; they wrote to all the affiliated clubs ; and the opinion which they
had expressed, the wish wliich they had conceived, returned in the form of
addresses from every part of France, and in the form of armed petiuons from
all the quarters of Paris. When, in the municipal councils, in the sections,
and in all the assemblies invested with any authority whatever, there was
still some hesitation on a question, from a last respect for legality, the Jaco-
bins, who esteemed themselves free as thought, boldly cut the knot, and
every insurrection was proposed amonu them lon^ beforehand. They had
for a Avhole month deliberated on that of the 10th of August. Besides
this initiative in every question, they had arrogated to themselves an inex-
orable inquisition into all the details of the government. If a minister, the
head of a public ^iffice, a contractor, was accused, commissioners sent by
the Jacobins went to the offices and demanded exact accounts, which were
2 M 2
414 HISTORY OF THE
delivered to them vvlthout haughtiness, without disdain, and without impa-
tience. Every citizen who liad to complain of any act whatever, had only to
apply to the society, and oflieious advocates were appointed to obtain justice
for him. One day perhaps soldiers would complain of their officers, work-
men of their employers; the next, an actress might be seen demanding justice
against her manager ; na^-, once a Jacobin came to demand reparation for
adultery committed with liis wife by one of his colleagues.
Every one was anxious to have his name entered in the register of the
society, in order to attest his patriotic zeal. Almost all the deputies who
had recently arrived in Paris had hastened to present themselves at the Jaco-
bins for that purpose ; there had been counted one hundred and thirteen of
them in one week, and even such as never meant to attend the mcetino's of
the club nevertheless applied for admission. The affiliated societies v.Tote
from the extremities of the provinces, inquiring if the deputies of their de-
partments had got themselves enrolled, and if they were assiduous members.
The wealthy of the capital strove to gain pardon for their wealth by going
to the Jacobins to put on the red cap, and their equipages blocked up the
entrance to that abode of equality. While the hall was tilled with its nume-
rous members, and the tribunes were crowded with people, an immense
concourse, mingled with carriages, waited at the door, and with loud shouts
demanded admission. Sometimes this multitude became irritated when rain,
so common under the sky of Paris, aggravated the wearisomeness of waiting,
and then some member demanded the admission of the good people, who
were suffering at the doors of the hall. Marat had frequently claimed this
privilege on such occasions; and when the admission was granted, some-
times even ])efore, an immense multitude of both sexes poured in and min-
gled with the members.
It was in the evening that they met. Anger, excited and repressed in the
Convention, here vented itself in a free explosion. Night, the multitude of
auditors, all contributed to heat the imagination. The sitting was frequently
prolonged till it degenerated into a tremendous tumvtlt, and there the agitators
gathered courage for the most audacious attempts on the following day.
Still this society, so imbued with a demagogue spirit, was not what it sub-
sequendy became. The equipages of those who came to abjure the inequa-
lity of conditions were still suffered to wait at the door. Some members
had made ineffectual attempts to speak with their hats on, but they liad been
obliged to uncover themselves. Brissot, it is true, had just been excluded
by a solemn decision ; but Petion continued to preside there, amidst applause.
Chabot, Collot-d'Herbois, and Fabre-d'Eglantine were the favourite speakers.
Marat still appeared strange there, and Chabot observed, in the language of
the place, that Marat was " a hedgehog which could not be laid hold of
anywhere."
Dumouriez was received by Danton, who presided at the sitting-. He
was greeted with numerous plaudits, and the sight of him gained forgiveness
for tlie supposed friendship of the Girondins. He made a short speech ap-
propriate to his situation, and promised to march before the end of the month
at the heal of sivti/ thorisund men, to attack khig'i, and to nave the people
from tyranny.
Danton, replying in similar style, said that, in rallying the French at the
camp of St. Menehould, he had deserved well of the country, but that a new
career was opening for him ; that he must now make crowns fall before the
red cap with which the society had honoured him, and that his name would
FRENCH REVOLUTIOX. 415
then shine amoncr the most g-lorious names of France. CoUot-d'Herbois then
addressed him in a speech which shows both the language of that period
and the feeHngs of the moment in regard to the general.
" It was not a king who appointed thee, O Dumourii'Z ; it was tliy fellow-
citizens, liear in mind that a general of the republic ought to serve none
but the republic. Thou hast heard of Theniistocles : he had just saved
Greece at Salamis ; but, calumniated by liis enemies, he was forced to seek
an asylum among tyrants. They wanted him to serve against his country.
His only answer was to plunge his sword into his heart. Dumouriez, thou
hast enemies ; thou wilt be calumniated : remember Themistocles !
" Enslaved nations are awaiting thy assistance. Tiiou wilt soon set them
free. What a glorious mission ! . .Thou must nevertheless guard thyself
against any excess of generosity towards thine enemies. Thou hast con-
ducted back the King of Priasia. rather too much in the French manner.
But Austria, we hope, will pay doubly.
" Thou art going to Brussels, Dumouriez. ... I have nothing to say to
thee. . . If, however, thou shouldst there find an execrable woman, who
came beneath the walls of Lille to feast her ferocity with the sight of red-
hot balls ! . . . But no, that woman will not wait for thy coming.
"At Brussels, liberty will again spring up under thy feet. Citizens,
maidens, matrons, children, will throng around thee — O what happiness art
thou about to enjoy, Dumouriez ! My wife is from Brussels ; she, too, will
embrace thee !"*
* The report of the speech addressed by Collot-d'Herbois to Dumouriez, as given in the
Journal des Jacobins, is as follows ;
" I meant to speak of our armies, and I congratulated myself on having to speak of iheni
in the i)r('srnce of the soldier whom you have just heard. I meant to censure the answer
of the ])ri'sident ; I have already said several times that the president ought never to reply to
the memliers of the society ; hut he has replied to all the soldiers of the army. This answer
gives to all a signal testimony of your satisfaction : Dumouriez will share it with all his
brethren in arms, for he knows that without them his glory v^'ould be nothing. We must
accustom ourselves to this language. Dumouriez has done his duty. This is his best
recompense. It is not because he is a general that I praise him, but because he is a French
soldier.
" Is it not true, general, that it is a glorious thing to command a rejiublican army 1 that
thou hast found a great ditlerence between this army and those of despotism ? The French
are not possessed of bravery only ; they have something beyond the mere contempt of death;
for who is there that fears death > But those inhahitants of Lille and Thionville, who coolly
await the red-hot balls, who continue immnveahle amid the bursting of bombs and the
destruction of their houses — is not this the development of all the virtues ] Ah, yes, those
virtues are above all triumphs! A new manner of making war is now invented, and our
enemies will not find it out: tyrants will not he able to do anything so long as freemen
shall be resolved to defend themselves.
" A great number of our brethren have fallen in the defence of liberty ; they are dead, but
their memory is dear to us. They have left examples which live in our hearts — but do they
live who have attacked us ? No: they are crushed, and their cohorts are hut heaps of car-
casses, which are rotting on the spot where they fought; they are but an infectious dunghill,
which the sun of liberty wdl have great dilliculty to purify. . . . That host of walking
skeletons closely resembles the skeleton of tyranny ; and like it they will fail to succumb. . .
What is become of those old generals of high renown 1 ']''heir shadow vanishes before the
almighty genius of liberty ; they flee, and they have but dungeons for their retreat, for dun-
geons will soon be the only palaces of des[)ots : they flee because the nations are rising.
" It was not a king who appointed thee, Dumouriez ; it was thy fellow-citizens • recollect
that a general of the rei»u!)lic ought never to treat with tyrants; recollect that such generals
as thyself ought nevtjr to serve any but liberty. Thou hast heard of Themistocles; he had
saved Greece by the hattle of Salamis; he was calumniated — thou hast thy enemies, Dumou-
riez ; thou shalt be calumniated, and that is the reason I talk to thee — Themistocles was
416 HISTORY OF THE
Danton then retired with Duinouriez, whom he seized upon, and to whom
he did, as it were, the honours of tlie new republic. Danton having shown
at Paris as firm a countenance as Duinouriez at St. Menehould, they were
regarded as the two saviours of the Revolution, and they were applauded
together at all the public places where they made their appearance. A cer-
tain instinct drew these two men towards one another, notwithstanding the
difference of their habits. They were the rakes of the two systems, who
united with the like genius the like love of pleasure, but with a different sort
of corruption. Danton had that of the people, Dumouriez that of courts;
but, more lucky tluui his colleague, the latter had only served generously
and sword in hand, while Danton had been so unfortunate as to sully a great
character, bv the atrocities of September.
Those brilliant saloons where the celebrated men of former days enjoyed
their glory ; where during the whole of the last century, Voltaire, Diderot,
d'Alembert, Rousseau, had been listened to and applauded — those saloons
no longer existed. There was left the simple and select society of Madame
Roland, wliich brought together all the Girondins, the handsome Barbaroux,
the clever Douvet, the grave Buzot, the brilliant Guadet, the persuasive
Vergniaud. and where still a pure language prevailed, conversations replete
with interest, and elegant and polished manners. The ministers met there
twice a Aveek, and dined together off a single course. Such was the new
republican society, which joined to the graces of old France the gravity of
the new, and wliich was so soon to be swept away by demagogue coarseness.
Dumouriez attended one of these simple repasts, felt an unpleasant sensa-
tion at first in the presence of those former friends whom he had driven
from the ministry, and of that woman who appeared to him too austere, and
calumniated; he was unjustly punished by his fellow-citizens; he found an asylum among
tyrants, but still he was 'J'heniistocles. He was asked to bear arms against his country. ' My
sword,' said he, ' shall never serve tyrants !' and he plunged it into his heart. I will also
remind thee of Scipio. Antiochus endeavoured to bribe that great man by offering him a
most valuable hostage, his own son. ' Thou hast not wealth enough to purchase my con-
science,' replied Scipio, 'and nature knows no love superior to the love of country.'
" Nations are groaning in slavery. Thou wilt soon deliver them. What a glorious mis-
sion ! Success is not doubtful ; the citizens who are waiting for thee, hope for thee; and
those who are here urge thee on. We must, however, reproach thee with some excess of
generosity towards thine enemies; thou hast conducted back the King of Prussia rather too
much ill the French manner — in the old French manner, that is to say. {Applause.) But
let us hope that Austria will pay double ; she has money; don't spare her; thou canst not
make her pay too much for the outrages which her race has committed upon mankind.
" Thou art going to Brussels, Dumouriez {applause) ; thou wilt pass through Courtrai.
There the French name has been profaned ; the traitor Jarry has burned houses. Thus far
I have spoken only to thy courage. I now speak to thy heart. Be mindful of those unfor-
tunate inhabitants of Courtrai ; disappoint not their hopes this time; promise them the jus-
tice of the nation ; the nation will stand by thee.
" When thou shalt be at Brussels ... I have nothing to say to thee concerning the con-
duct which thou hast to pursue ... If thou there findest an execrable woman, who came
to the fjot of the walls of Lille to feast her ferocity with the sight of red-hot balls . . . but
that woman will not await thee ... If thou shouldst find her, she would be thy prisoner;
we have others belonging to her family . . . thou wouldst send her hither ... let her be
shaved in such a manner that she never again could wear a wig.
"At Brussels, liberty will revive under thy auspices. A whole nation will give itself up
to joy ; thou wilt restore children to their fathers, wives to their husbands ; the sight of thy
happiness will be a recreation to thee after thy labours. Boys, citizens, girls, women, will
throng around thee, will all embrace thee as their father ! Ah ! how happy wilt thou be,
Dumouriez ! . . My wife, she comes from Brussels ; she will embrace thee, too."
This speech was frequently interrupted by vehement applause.
1
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 417
to whom he appeared too licentious : but he supported this situation with
his accustomed spirit, and was touched in particular by the sincere cordiality
of Roland. Besides the society of the Girondins, that of the artists was
the only one which had survived the dispersion of the ancient aristocracy.
Almost all the artists had warmly embraced a revolution, which avenged
them of high-born disdain and promised favour to genius alone. They wel-
comed Duniouriez, in their turn, and gave him an entertainment at which
all the talents that the capital containetl were assembled. But, in the very
midst of this entertainment, a strange scene occurred to interrupt it, and to
produce as much disgust as surprise.
Marat, ever prompt to outstrip revolutionary suspicions, was not satisfied
with the general. The merciless denouncer of all those who enjoyed the
public favour, he had always anticipated by his disgusting invectives the
disgrace incurred by the popular leaders. Mirabeau, Bailly, Lafayette,
Petion, the Girondins, had been assailed by his abuse, while yet in posses-
sion of all their popularity. Since the 10th of August, in particular, he had
indulged all the extravagances of his mind ; and, though revolting to upright
and reasonable men, and strange at least to hot-headed revolutionists, he had
been encouraged by success. He failed not, therefore, to consider himself
as in some measure a public man, essential to the new order of things. He
spent part of his time in collecting reports, in circulating them in his paper,
and in visiting the bureaux for the purpose of redressing the wrongs com-
mitted by administrators against the people. Communicating to the public the
particulars of his life, he declared in one of his numbers* that his avocations
were overwhelming; that, out of his twenty-four hours in the day, he allowed
but two for sleep, and one only to the table and to hie domestic concerns ;
that, besides the hours devoted to his duty as a deputy, he reiTularlv spent
six in collecting the complaints of a multitiule of unfortunate and oppressed
persons, and in endeavouring to obtain redress for them ; that he passed the
remaining hours in reading and answering a multitude of letters, in writing
his observations on pul)lic events, in receiving denunciations, in ascertaining-
the veracity of the denouncers : lasdy, in editing his paper and superintend-
ing the printing of a great work. For three years, he said, he had not taken
a quarter of an hour's recreation ; and it makes one shudder to think what
so inordinate a mind, coupled with such unceasing activity, is capable of
producing in a revolution.
Marat pretended to discover in Duraonriez nothinof but an aristocrat of
dissolute manners, who was not to be trusted. As an addition to his motives,
he had been informed that Dumouriez had recendy proceeded with the utmost
severity against two battalions of vohmteers, who had slaughtered some emi-
grant deserters. Repairing immediately to the .Jacobins, he denounced the
general in their tribune, and asked for two commissioners to go with him and
question him concerning his conduct. Montaat and Bentabolle were instandy
appointed, and away he went with them. Uumouricz was not at home.
Marat hurried to the diUcrent theatres, and at lenij-tli learned tliat Dumouriez
was attending an entertainment given to him by die artists at the house of
Mademoiselle Candcille, a celebrated woman of that dav. Marat scrupled
not to proceed thither notwithstanding his disgusting costume. Tiie car-
riages, the detachments of the naUonal guard, which he found at the door of
the house where the dinner vvas given, the presence of Santerre, the com-
mandant, and of a great number of deputies, and the arrangements of the
• Journal de la Republique Franjaise, No. xciii., Jan. 9, 1793.
VOL. I. — 53
4 IS HISTORY OF THE
entertainment, excited his spleen. lie boldly went forward and asked for
Diimouriez. A sort of murmur arose at his approach. The mention of his
name caused the disappearance of a number of faces, whicli, he said, could
not endure his accusing looks. Proceeding straightforward to Dumouriez,
he loudly accosted him, and demanded an explanation of liis treatment of the
two battalions. The general eyed him, and then said with a contemptuous
curiosity : " Aha ! so you are the man they call Marat !" He then surveyed
him again from head to foot, and turned his back upon him, without saying
another word. As, however, the Jacobins who accompanied Marat appeared
milder and more respectable, Dumouriez gave them some explanations, and
sent them away satisfied. Marat, who was far from being so, made a great
noise in the ante-rooms, abused Santerre, who, he said, acted the part of
lackey to the general ; inveighed against the national guard, which contributed
to the splendour of the entertainment, and retired, threatening vengeance
against all the aristocrats composing the assembly. He instandy hastened
to describe in his journal this ridiculous scene, which so correctly delineates
the situation of Dumouriez, the fury of Marat, and the manners of that
period.*
* The following account of the visit paid by Marat to Dumouriez at Mademoiselle Can-
(leille's is extracted from the Journal de la R/publtque Frangaise,- it was written by
Marat himself, and published in his paper of Tuesday, October 17, 1792
" Declaration of the Friend of the People.
"Less surprised than indignant at seeing- former valets of the court, placed by the course
of events at the head of our armies, and, since the 10th of August, kept in their places by in-
fluence, intrigue, and stupidity, carry their audacity so far as to degrade and treat as crimi-
nals two patriot battalions, upon the ridiculous and most probably false pretext that some
individuals had murdered four Prussian deserters; I presented myself at the tribune of the
Jacobins, to expose this odious proceeding, and to apply for two commissioners distinguished
for their civism, to accompany me to Dumouriez, and to be witnesses of his answers to my
questions. I repaired to him with citizens Bentabolle and Monteau, two of my colleagues
in the Convention. We were told that he was gone to the play and was to sup in town.
" We knew that he had returned from the Varietes; we went in quest of him to the club
of D. Cypher, where we were told that he was expected to be. Labour lost. At length
we learned that he was to sup at the little house of Talma, in the Hue Chantereine. A file
of carriages and brilliant illuminations pointed out to us the temple where the children of
Thalia were entertaining a son of Mars. We were surprised to find Parisian national
guards within and without. After passing through an antechamber full of servants, intermixed
with heiduks, we arrived at a saloon containing a numerous company.
" At the door was Santerre, general of the Parisian army, performing the office of lackey,
or gentleman-usher. He announced me in a loud voice the moment he saw me, which dis-
pleased me exceedingly, inasmuch as it was likely to drive away certain masks which one
would like to be acquainted with. However, I saw enough to gain a clue to the intrigues.
1 shall say nothing of half a score of fairies destined to grace the entertainment. Politics
were probably not the object of their meeting. Neither shall I say anything of the national
officers who were paying their court to the great general, or of the old valets of the court wha
formed his retinue, in the dress of aides-de-camp. — And lastly, I shall say nothing of the
master of the house, who was among them in the costume of a player. But I cannot help
declaring, in illustratiwn of the operations of the Convention, and of the character of the
jugglers of decrees, that, in the august company were Kersaint, the great busy-body Lebrun,
Koland, Lasource, . . . Chenier, all tools of the faction of the federative republic, and Dulaure
and Gorsas, their libelling errand-boys. As there was a large party, I distinguished three
conspirators only ; perhaps they were more numerous ; and, as it was now still early, it is
probable that they had not all arrived, for the Vergniauds, the Buzots, the Camuses, the
Rabauts, the Lacroix, the Guadets, the Barbaroux, and other leaders were no doubt of the
party, since they belong to the secret conclave.
" Before I proceed to our conversation with Dumouriez, I shall here pause a moment,
to make with the judicious reader some observations that will not be misplaced. Ls it to be
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 419
Dumouriez had spent four days at Paris, and during that time he had not
been able to come to a good understanding with the Girondins, though he
conceived that this peneraiissimo of the republic, who has suffered the Kinir of Prussia to
escape fronj Verdun, and who has capitulated with the enemy, whom he niii;ht have cooped
up in his camps, and forced to lay down his arms, instead of favouring his retreat, should
have chosen so critical a moment to abandon the armies under his command, to run to play-
houses, to get himself applauded, and to indulge in orgies at an actor's with nymphs of the
opera 1
" Dumouriez has disguised the secret motives which call him to Paris under the pretext of
concerting with the ministers the plan of the operations of the campaign. What! witli a
Roland, a frcre cnupe-cftoiix and petty intriguer, acquainted only with the mean ways of
lying and low cunning! with a Lepage, a worthy disciple of his patron, Roland ! with a
Clavieres, who knows nothing but the terms of stock-brokering ! with a Garat, who compre-
hends nothing but the affected phrases and the tricks of an academic parasite. I shall say
nothing of Alonge ; he is deemed a patriot ; but he is just as ignorant of military operations
as his colleagues, who know nothing at all about them. Dumouriez is come to coi,cert with
the leaders of the party which is caballing for the establishment of a federative republic.
That is his errand.
" On entering the saloon where the entertainment was given, I perceived plainly that my
presence damped the gaiety of the guests, which is not to be wondered at, when it is consi-
dered that I am a t)Ugbear to the enemies of the country. Dumouriez, in particular, appeared
disconcerted. I begged him to step with me into another room, as I wished to converse with
him a few moments in private. I addressed him, and our conversation was word for word as
follows: ' We arc inemliers of the National Convention, and we come, sir, to bes you to give
us some explanation relative to the affair of the two batttalions, the Mauconseil and the Re-
puhlican, accused by you of having murdered four Prussian deserters in cold blood. We
have searched the offices of the military committee and those of the war department ; we
caimot there find the least proof of the crime; and nobody can furnish information on all
these points but yourself." — 'Gentlemen, I have sent all the documents to the minister." —
'We assure you, sir, that we have in our hands a memorial, drawn up in his office and in
his iiam(!, purporting that there are no facts whatever for pronouncing upon this alleged
crime, and that for such we must address ourselves to you.' — 'But, gentlemen, I have in-
formed the Convention, and to it I refer you.' — ' Permit us, sir, to observe, that the informa-
tion furnished is not sulTicient, since the committees of the Convention, to which this matter
has been referred, have declared in their report that it was impossible for them to pronounce
for want of particulars and proofs of the crime denounced. We beg you to say whether you
know all the circumstances of this affair.' — 'Certainly, of my own knowledge.' — 'Then it is
not merely a confidential denunciation made by you on the faith of M. Duchaseau V — ' But,
gentlemen, when I assert a thing, I think I ought to be believed.' — 'Sir, if we thought as you
do on that point, we should not have taken the step that has brought us hither. We have
great reasons to doubt ; seveial members of the military committee have informed us that
these pretended Prussians were four French emigrants.' — ' Well, gentlemen, if that were the
case?' — ' Sir, that would absolutely change the state of the matter, and, without approving
beforehand the conduct of the battalions, perhaps they are absolutely innocent : it is the cir-
cumstances which provoked the murder that it is important to know. Now, letters from the
army state that these emigrants were discovered to be spies sent by the enetny, and t'lat they
even rose against the national guards.' — ' What, sir, do you then approve the insubordination
of the soldiers V — ' No, sir, I do not aj)prove the insubordination of the soldiers, but I detest
the tyranny of the officers; I have too much rca^^on to helieve that this is a machination of
Duchas(}au against the patriot battalions, anil the manner in which you have treated them is
revolting.' — ' Monsieur Marat, you are too warm ; I cannot enter into ex[)lanations with you.'
Here Dumouriez, finding himself too closely pressed, extricated himself from the dilemma by
leaving us. My two colleagues followed him. and, in the conversation which they had with
him, he confined himself to saying that he had sent the documents to the minister. While
they were talking, I found myself surrounded by all the aides-de-camp of Dumouriez, and by
the officers of the Parisian guard. Santerre strove to appease me: he talked to me about the
necessity of subordination in the troops. ' I know that as well as you,' I replied ; ' but I am
disgusted at the manner in which the soldiers of the country are treated : I have still at heart
the massacres at Nanc^ and in the Champ de Mars.' Here some aides-de-ca/np of Dumou-
riez began to declaim against agitators. ' Cease those ridiculous exclaniati(ms !" I exclaimed ;
' there are no agitators in our armies but the infamous officers, their spies, and the perfidious
420 HISTORY OF THE
had among them an intimate friend in the person of Gensonne. He had
merely advised tlie latter to reconcile himself with Danton, as with the
most powerful man, and tlie one who, notwithstanding his vices, might
become most serviceable to tlie well-meaning. Neither was Dumouriez on
better terms with the Jacobins, with whom he was disgusted, and to whom
he was an object of suspicion, on account of his supposed friendship M'ith
the Girondins. His visit to Paris had, therefore, not served him much with
either of the parties, but it had proved more beneficial to him in a military
respect.
According to his custom, he had drawn up a general plan, which had been
adopted by the executive council. Agreeably to this plan, Montesquieu*
was to maintain his position along the Alps, and to secure the great chain
as a boundary by completing the conquest of Nice, and striving to keep up
the neutrality of Switzerland. Biron was to be reiniorced, in order to
guard the Rhine from Basle to Landau. A corps of twelve thousand men,
under the command of General Meusnier, was destined to move to the rear
of Custine, in order to cover his communications. Kellermann had orders
to leave his quarters, to pass rapidly between Luxemburg and Treves, to
hasten to Coblentz, and thus to do what he had already been advised, and
what he and Custine had so long neglected to do. Then, taking the offen-
sive with eighty thousand men, Dumouriez was to complete the French
territory by the projected acquisition of Belgium. Keeping thus the defen-
sive on all the frontiers protected by the nature of the soil, the French would
boldly attack only on the open frontier, that of the Netherlands, where,
according to the expression of Dumouriez, a man could defend himself only
by staining battles.
He obtained, by means of Santerre, compliance with his suggestions that
courtiers, whom we have had the folly to leave at the head of our troops.' I spoke to Moretoii
Chabriliant and to Bourdoin, one of whom was formerly a valet of the court, and the other a
spy of Lafayette.
"I was indignant at all that I heard, and at all the atrocity that I suspected in the odious
conduct of our generals. As I could not bear to stay any longer, I left the party, and I beheld
with astonishment in the adjoining room, the doors of which were ajar, several of Dumouriez's
heiduks, with drawn swords at their shoulders. I know not what could be the object of this
ridiculous farce; if it was contrived for the purpose of intimidating me, it must be admitted
that the valets of Dumouriez entertain high notions of liberty. Have patience, gentlemen,
we will teach you to know it. Meanwhile be assured that your master dreads the point of
my pen much more than I fear the swords of his ragamuffins."
* "Anne Pierre Montesquiou Fezenzac, born in 1741, was a major-general, a member
of the French Academy, and deputy from the nobility of Paris to the States-general. In
1791, at the time of the King's flight, he declared himself devoted to the Assembly, and,
renewing his civic oath, was sent into the departments of the Moselle, the Meuse, and the
Ardennes, in order to dispose the minds of the people in favour of the Assembly. Some
time after he was appointed commander-in-chief of the army of the South ; he was soon
afterwards denounced by Barrere as having sought to favour the King of Sardinia, and hurt
the interest of the patriots in his treaty with the republic of Geneva. A decree of accusa-
tion was then passed against him, but when the commissioners appointed to seize him
arrived at the gates of Geneva, they learned that he was gone into Switzerland, and had
carried with him the military chest, to compensate for the property he had left in France.
A decree of 179.5 left Montesquiou at liberty to return to France; and, in 1797, he reap-
peared in the constitutional circle, which the Directory then endeavoured to oppose to the
Clichyan party. He died at Paris in 1798." — Biographic Moderne. E.
" Montesquiou wrote, in 1798, a work entitled 'On the Administration of Finance in a
Republic,' which shows a true zeal for the government under which he lived, and a degree
of talent well calculated to serve it. Never was he heard to utter a word that could betray
the faintest regret for his station before the Revolution ; and yet he was, perhaps, one of
those who had lost by it most power, most honours, and most wealth." — Rcederer. E.
I
FRE^•CH REVOLUTION. 421
the absurd idea of a camp near Paris should be relinquished ; that the men,
artillery, ammunition, provisions, and necessaries for encamping collected
there, should be despatched to Flanders for the use of his army, which was
in want of everything ; that to tliese should- be added shoes, great-coats, and
six millions in cash to supply the soldiers with ready money, till they should
enter the Netherlands, after which he hoped to be able to provide for him-
self. He set out, about the 16th of October, with somewhat different notions
of what is called public gratitude, on rather worse terms with the parties
than before, and at the utmost indemnified for his journey by certain military
arrangements made with the executive council.
During this interval, the Convention had continued to act against the
commune, by urging its renewal and closely watching all its proceedings.
Petion had been elected mayor by a majority of 13,899 votes, while Robes-
pierre had obtained but twentv-three, Billaud-Varennes fourteen, Panis
eighty, and Danton eleven. The popularity of Robespierre and Petion
must not, however, be measured according to this difference in the number
of votes ; because people were accustomed to see in the one a mayor, and in
the other a deputy, and did not care to make anything else of eitber ; but
this immense majority proves the popularity which the principal chief of the
Girondin party still possessed. We should not omit to mention that Bailly
obtained two votes — a singular memento bestowed on that worthy magistrate
of 1789. Petion declined the mayoralty, weary of the convulsions of the
commune, and preferring the functions of deputy to the National Con-
vention.
The three principal measures projected in the famous sitting of the 24th
were a law against instigations to murder, a decree relative to the formation
of a departmental guard, and, lastly, an accurate report of the state of Paris.
The two former, intrusted to the commission of nine, excited a continual
outcry at the Jacobins, at the commune, and in the sections. The commis-
sion of nine nevertheless proceeded with its task ; and from several depart-
ments, among others Marseilles and Calvados, there arrived, as before the
lOtli of August, battalions which anticipated the decree respecting the de-
partmental guard. Roland, to whom the third measure, namely, the report
on the state of the capital, was allotted, performed his part without weakness
and with the strictest truth. He described and excused the inevitable con-
fusion of the first insurrection ; but he delineated with energy, and branded
with reprobation, the crimes added by the 2d of September to the revohition
of tbe 10th of August. He exposed all tbe excesses of the commune, its
abuses of power, its arbitrary imprisonments, and its immense peculations.
He concliuled with these words :
" A wise department, but possessinir little power; an active and despotic
commune ; an excellent population, but the sound part of which is intimi-
dated or under constraint, while the other is wrought upon by datterers and
inflamed by calumny; confusion of powers; abuse and contempt of the
autborities; the public force weak or reduced to a cipher by being badly
commanded ; — such is Paris !"
His report was received with applause by the usual majority, though,
during the reading of it, some murnuirs had been raised by the Mountain.
A letter, written by an individual to a magistrate, communicated by that ma-
gistrate to the executive council, and unveiling the design of a new 2d of
September against a part of the Convention, excited great agitation. In that
letter there was this expression relative to the plotters ; " Tbev are deter-
mined to let none speak but Robespierre." At these words, all eves were
2N
422 HISTOR'i OF THE
fixed upon him. Some expressed their indignation, others urged him to
speak. He accordingly addressed the Assembly, for the purpose of counter-
acting the impression produced by Roland's report, which he termed a
defamatory romance ; and he insisted that publicity ought not to be given to
that report, before those who were accused, and himself in particular, had
been heard. Then, expiating on so much as related to him personally, he
began to justify himself; but he could not gain a hearing on account of the
noise which prevailed in tlie hall. Robespierre, having succeeded in quell-
ing the uproar, recommenced his apology, and challenged his adversaries to
accuse him to his face, and to produce a single positive proof against him.
At this challenge, Louvet started up. " It is I," said he ; " I who accused
thee." He was already at the foot of the tribune when he uttered these
words, and Barbaroux and Rebecqui had followed him thither to support the
accusation. At this sight Robespierre was agitated, and his countenance
betrayed his emotion.* He proposed that his accuser should be heard, and
that he should then have leave to reply. Danton, who succeeded him in the
tribune, complained of the system of calumny organized against the com-
mune and the deputation of Paris, and repeated, concerning Marat, who was
the principal cause of all these accusations, what he had already declared,
namely, that he disliked him, that he had experienced his volcanic and un-
sociable temper, and that all idea of a triumviral coalition was absurd. He
concluded by moving that a day should be fixed for discussing the report.
The Assembly ordered it to be printed, but deferred its distribution among
the departments till Louvet and Robespierre should have been heard.
Louvet was a man of great boldness and courage. His patriotism was
sincere, but his hatred of Robespierre was blended with resentment occa-
sioned by a personal quarrel, begun at the Jacobins, continued in La Senti-
7ielle, revived in the electoral assembly, and rendered more violent since he
was face to face with his jealous rival in the National Convention. With
extreme petulance of disposition, Louvet united a romantic and credulous
imagination, which misled him and caused him to suppose concerted plans
and plots, where there was nothing more than the spontaneous effect of the
passions. He firmly believed in his own suppositions, and strove to force
his friends also to put faith in them. But in the cool good sense of Roland
and Petion, and in the indolent impartiality of Vergniaud, he had to encoun-
ter an opposition which mortified him. Buzot, Barbaroux, Guadet, without
being equally credulous, without supposing such complicated machinations,
believed in the wickedness of their adversaries, and seconded Louvet's
attacks from indignation and courage. Salles, deputy of La Meurtho, an
inveterate enemy to anarchists in the Constituent Assembly and in the Con-
vention — Salles, endowed with a sombre and violent imagination, was alone
accessible to all the suggestions of Louvet, and, like him, was a believer in
vast plots, hatched in the commune, and extending to foreign countries.
Passionate friends of liberty, Louvet and Salles could not consent to impute
to it so many evils, and they were fain to believe that the party of the Moun-
tain, and Marat in particular, were paid by the emigrants and England to
\irge on the Revolution to crime, to dishonour, and to general confusion.
More uncertain relative to Robespierre, they saw in him at least a tyrant
* " RoViRspierre, whose countenance haJ till then been firm, and his manner composed,
was now profoundly agitated. He had once measured his powers at the .lacohins with thii"
redoubtable adversary, whom he knew to be clever, impetuous, and regardless of conse-
quences." — Mignet. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION 423
actuated by pride and ambition, and aspiring, no matter by what means, to
the supreme power.
Louvet, having resolved to attack Robespierre bohlly, and to allow him
no rest, had his speech in readiness, and had brought il v.iih liini on the day
■when Roland was to present his report. Thus he was quite prepared to
support the accusation when he obtained permission to speak. He instantly
availed liimself of it, and immediately after Roland.
The Girondins were already sulliciently disposed to form false notions of
events, and to find a plot where nothing but violent passions really existed :
but to the credulous Louvet the conspiracy appeared much more evident and
more intimately coniljined. In tlie growing exaggeration of the Jacobins,
and in the favour which Robespierre's superciliousness had found with them
during the year 1792, he beheld a plot framed by the ambitious tribune. He
pictured hhn surrounded by satellites to whose violence he gave up his op-
ponents ; erecting himself into the object of an idolatrous worship ; causing
it to be rumoured before the lOih of August, that he alone could save liberty
and France, and, when the 10th of August arrived, hiding himself from the
light, coming forth again two days after the danger, proceeding direct to the
commune, notwithstanding his promise never to accept any place, and, of
his sole authority, seating himself at the bureau of the general council ; there,
seizing tlie control over a blind bourgeoisie, instigating it at pleasure to all
sorts of excesses, insulting for its sake the Legislative Assembly, and demand-
ing decrees of that Assembly upoi: penalty of tlie tocsin ; directing, but without
showing himself, the massacres and the robberies of September, in order to
uphold the municipal authority by terror ; and afterwards despatchinsr emis-
saries over all France to recommend the same crimes and to induce tlie pro-
vinces to acknowledge the supremacy and the authority of Paris. Robes-
pierre, added Louvet, wished to destroy the national representation, in order
to substitute for it the commune which he swayed, and to give us the govern-
ment of Rome, where, under the name of mtaiicipiti, the provinces were
subject to the sovereignty of the metropolis. Thus, master of Paris, which
would have been mistress of France, he would have become the successor
of overthrown royalty. Seeing, however, the meeting of a new assembly
near at hand, he had passed from the general council to the electoral assem-
bly, and directed the votes by terror, in order to make himself master of the
Convention by means of the deputation of Paris.
It was he, Robespierre, who had recommended to the electors that man
of blood whose incendiary placards had iilled France witli surprise and hor-
ror. That libeller, with whose name Louvet would not, he said, soil his
lips, was but the spoiled child of murder, who possessed a courage for
preaching up crime and calumniating the purest citizens, in which the cau-
tious Robespierre was delieient. As for Danton, Louvet excluded him from
the accusation, nay, he was astonished that he should have ascended the
tribune to repel an attack which was not directed ag-ainst him. He did not,
however, separate him from the perpetrations of September, because, in
those disastrous days, when all the authorities, the Assembly, the ministers,
the mayor, spoke in vain to stop the massacres, the minister of justice alone
(lid not apeak: because, lastly, in tlie notorious placards, he alone was ex-
cepted from the calumnies poured forth upon the purest of the citizens.
"And canst thou," exclaimed Louvet, "canst thou. Danton, clear thyself
in the eyes of posterity from this dishonourintr exception?" These words,
equally generous and imprudent, were loudly cheered.
This accusation, continually applauded, had not, however, been heard
424 HISTORY OF THE
without many murmnrs. " Procure silence for me," Louvet had said to the
president, '■'■for I am going to touch the sore, and the patient will cry out."
"Keep your word," said Danton ; "touch the sore." And whenever mur-
murs arose, there were cries of " Silence ! silence, sore ones!''''
Louvet at last summed up his cliarges. " I accuse thee, Robespierre,"
he exclaimed, "of having calumniated the purest citizens, and of having done
so on the day when calumnies were proscriptions. I accuse thee of having
put thyself forward as an object of idolatry, and of having spread abroad that
thou wert the only man capable of saving France. I accuse thee of having
vilified, insulted, and persecuted the national representation, of having tyran-
nized over the electoral assembly of Paris, of having aimed at the supreme
power by calumny, violence, and terror — and I demand a committee to in-
vestigate thy conduct." Louvet then proposed a law condemning to banish-
ment every one who should make his name a subject of division among the
citizens. He proposed that to the measures the plan of which the commis-
sion of nine Avas preparing, should be added a new one, for placing the armed
force at the disposal of the minister of the interior. " Lastly," said he, " I
demand on the spot a decree of accusation against Marat! . . . Heavens!"
he exclaimed, " O heavens ! I have named him !"
Robespierre, stunned by the applause lavished on his adversary, desired
to be heard. Amidst the uproar and murmurs excited by his presence, he
hesitated ; his features were distorted, his voice faltered. He nevertheless
obtained a hearing and demanded time to prepare his defence. He was
allowed time, and his defence was adjourned to die 5th of November. This
delay was fortunate for the accused, for the Assembly, excited by Louvet,
was filled with strong indignadon.
\n the evening, there was great agitation at die Jacobins, where all the
sittings of the Convention were reviewed. A great number of members
hurried in dismay to relate the horrid conduct of Louvet, and to demand
the erasure of his name. He had calumniated the society, inculpated Dan-
ton, Santerre, Robespierre, and Marat. He had even demanded an accusa-
tion against the two latter, proposed sanguinary laws, which attacked the
liberty of the press, and lasUy, proposed the Athenian ostracism. Legendre
said that it was a concerted trick, since Louvet had his speech ready pre-
pared, and that Roland's report had evidendy no other object than to furnish
an occasion for this diatribe.
Fabre d'Eglantine complained diat scandal was dady increasing, and that
people were bent on calumniating Paris and die patriots. "By connecting,"
said he, "petty conjectures with petty suppositions, people make out a vast
conspiracy, and yet they will not tell us either where it is, or who are the
agents and what the means. If there were a man who had seen everything,
appreciated everything, in both parties, you could not doubt tliat this man,
a friend to truth, would be die very person to make known the truth. That
man is Pedon. Force his virtue to tell all that he has seen, and to speak
out concerning the crimes imputed to the patriots. Whatever delicacy he
may feel for his friends, I dare affirm that intrigues have not corrupted him.
Petion is still pure and sincere. He wanted to speak to-day. Force him
to explain himself."*
• Among the coolest and most impartial minJs of the Revolution must be placed Petion,
No one has formed a sounder judi^ment of the two parties which divided the Convention.
His equity was so well known, that both sides agreed to choose him for their umpire. The
accusations which took place at the very opening of the Assembly excited warm disputes
at the Jacobins. Fabre d'Eglantine proposed that the matter should be referred to Pe
FRENCH REVOLUTIOX. 425
Merlin disapproved of making Petion judge between Robespierre and
Louvet because it was violating equality thus to set up one citizen as the
lion's decision. On this subject he thus expressed himself in the sitting of October 29,
1792:
"There is another way which I think useful and which will produce a greater elTect,
Almost always when any vast intrigue has been on foot, it has had need of power. It has
been obliged to make great eHorls to attach a great personal credit to itself. If there existed
a man who had seen everything, who had appreciated everything in both parties, you could
not doubt that this man, a friend to truth, would be most fit to make it known, ^\■('ll,
I propose that you invite this man, a member of your society, to pronounce upon the crimes
that are imputed to the patriots. Force his virtue to tell all that he has seen — that man is
Petion. Whatever partiality a man may have for his friends, I venture to assert that
intriguers have not corrupted Petion ; he is still pure, still sincere. I say so here. I fre-
quently talk to him in the Convention, in moments of agitation, and he always tells me
that he grieves. I see that he does grieve — inwardly. 'J'his morning he determined to
ascend the tribune. He cannot refuse to write you his opinion, and we shall see if intriguers
can divert him from it.
" Observe, citizens, that this step of itself will prove that you seek nothing but the truth.
It is an homage which you pay to the virtue of a good patriot, with the more urgent motives,
since liars have wrapped themselves up in his virtue to give themselves consequence. I
demand that the motion be put to the vote." {Applause.)
Legeridre then spoke. " The thing was contrived, that is evident. The distribution of
Brissol's speech, the report of the minister of the interior, the speech of Louvet, brought in
his pocket, all proved that the matter was concerted. The speech of Brissot on the erasure
contains all that Louvet has said. The report of Roland was intended to furnish Louvet
with an opportunity for speaking. I approve of Fabre's motion; the Convention will soon
pronounce; Robespierre is to be heard on Monday. I beg the society to suspend the deci-
sion. It is impossible that in a free country virtue should succumb to crime.''
.\fter this quotation, I think it right to introduce the paper written by Petion, relative to
the dispute between Louvet and Robespierre. 'J'his paper and the extracts given elsewhere
from Garat, contain the most valuable particulars respecting the conduct and character of the
men of that time, and they are documents which history ought to preserve as most capable
of conveying just ideas of that epoch.
" Citizens, I had determined to observe the most absolute silence relative to the events
which have occurred since the 10th of August; motives of delicacy and solicitude for the
public welfare decided me to use this reserve.
" But it is impossible to be silent any longer : on both sides my testimony is called for ;
every one urges me to declare my sentiments ; I will tell with frankness what I know of
men, what I think of things.
" I have been a near spectator of the scenes of the Revolution. I have seen the cabals,
the intrigues, the tumultuous struggles between tyranny and liberty, between vice and
virtue.
" When the working of the human passions is laid bare, when we perceive the secret
springs which have directed the most important operations, when we know all the perils
wliicli liberty has incurred, when we penetrate into the abyss of corrujition which threatened
every moment to ingulf us, we ask ourselves with astonishment by what series of prodigies
we have arrived at tiie point where we this day are!
" Revolutions ought to be seen at a distance ; this veil is highly necessary to them ; sees
efface the stains which darken them ; posterity perceives only the results. Our descendants
will deem us great. Let us render them better than ourselves.
" I pass over the circumstances anterior to that ever-memorable day, which erected liberty
upon the ruins of tyranny, and changed the monarchy into a republic.
" 'J'he men who have attributed to themselves the glory of that day are the men to whom it
least belongs: it is due to those who prepared it ; it is due to the iiii[)erious nature of things;
it is due to the brave federalists, and to their secret directorv, whii-h had long been concerting
the plan of ihe insurreclion ; it is due to the people ; lastly, it is due to the guardian spirit
which has constantly presided over the destinies of France ever since the tirst as.sembly of
her representatives.
" Success, it miyit be admitted, was for a moment uncertain ; and those who are really
acquainted with tPie piirticulars of that day know who were the intrepid defenders of the
country, that prevented the Swiss and all the satellites of despotism from remaining masters
VOL. I. — 54 2 N 2
426 HISTORY OF THE
supreme judge of others. "Besides," said he, " Pedon is no doubt a
respectable man, but, should he swerve ! ... is he not man ? Is not Potion
of the field of battle, and who they were that rallied the civic legions, which were for a mo-
ment staggered.
" That day had been brought about too without the concurrence of the commissioners
of several sections assembled at the house of the commune. The members? of the old
municipality, who had not separated the whole night, were still silling at half-past nine in
the morning.
" These commissioners conceived, nevertheless, a grand idea, and took a bold step by pos-
sessing themselves of all the municipal powers, and in stepping into the place of a general
council, of whose weakness and corruption they were apprehensive. They courageously
risked their lives in case success should not justify the enterprise.
" Had these commissioners been wise enough to lay down their authority at the right time,
to return to the rank of private citizens after the patriotic action which they had performed,
they would have covered themselves with glory ; but they could not withstand the allurement
of power, and the ambition of governing took posi-ession of them.
" In the first intoxicating moments of the triumph of liberty, and after so violent a com-
motion, it was impossible that everything should be instantly restored to tranquillity and to
its accustomed order; it would have been unjust to require this: the new council of the
commune was then assailed with reproaches that were not well founded, and that proved an
ignorance both of its situation and of circumstances; but these comniissioners began
to deserve them, when they themselves prolonged the revolutionary movement beyond the
proper time.
" The National Assembly had spoken out ; it had assumed a grand character ; it had
passed decrees which saved the empire ; it had suspended the King; it had elTiiced the line
of demarcation which divided the citizens into two classes ; it had called together the Con-
vention. The royalist party was cast down. It was necessary thenceforth to rally round
it, to fortify it with opinion, to environ it with confidence ; duty and sound policy dictated
this course.
" The commune deemed it more glorious to vie with the Assembly. It began a struggle
likely only to throw discredit on all that had passed, to induce a belief that the Assembly
was under the irresistible yoke of circumstances; it obeyed or withstood decrees according
as they favoured or thwarted its views; in its representations to the legislative body it used
imperious and irritating language; it affected power, and knew not either how to enjoy its
triumphs or to cause them to be forgiven.
" Pains had been successfully taken to persuade some that, so long as the revolutionary
state lasted, power had reverted to its source, that the National Assembly was without cha-
racter, that its existence was precarious, and that the communal assemblies were the only
legal depositories of authority.
"To others it had been insinuated that the leaders of opinion in the National Assembly
entertained perfidious designs, and intended to overthrow liberty, and to deliver the republic
into the hands of foreigners.
" Hence a great number of members of the council conceived that they were exercising a
legitimate right when they usurped authority, that they were resisting oppression when they
opposed the law, and that they were performing an act of civism when they were violating
their duties as citizens; nevertheless, amidst this anarchy, the commune from lime to time
passed salutary resolutions.
"I had been retained in my office; but it was now merely an empty title; I sought its
functions to no purpose ; they were dispersed among a thousand hands, and everybody exer-
cised them.
'• I went during the first days to the council. I was alarmed at the tumult which prevailed
in that assembly, and still more at the spirit by which it was swayed. It was no longer an
administrative body, deliberating on the communal affairs ; it was a political assembly, deem-
ing itself invested with full powers, discussing the great interests of the state, examining the
laws enacted, and promulgating new ones; nothing was there talked of but plots against the
public liberty; citizens were denounced; they were summoned to the bar, they were publicly
examined, they were tried, they were dismissed, acquitted, or confined ; the ordinary rules
were set aside. Such was the agitation of the public mind, that it was impossible to control
this torrent ; all the deliberations were carried on with the impetuosity of enthusiasm ; they
followed one another with frightl'ul rapidity ; night and day there was no interruption ; the
council was continually sitting.
FRENXH REVOLUTION. 427
a friend of Brissot, and of Roland ? Does not Pelion admit to his house La-
source, Vergniaud, Barbaroux, all the intriguers who are compromising
liberty ?"
" I would not have my name attached to a multitude of acts so irregular, so contrary to
sound principles.
" I was equally sensible how wise and how useful it would be not to approve, not to
sanction by my presence, all that was done. Those members of the council who were
afraid to see me there, who were annoyed at my attendance, strongly desired that the people,
whose cotifKlunce I retained, should believe that I presided over its operations, and that no-
thing was done but in concert with me; my reserve on this point increased their enmity ;
but they durst not display it too openly, for fear of displeasing the people, whose favour they
coveted.
" I rarely attended ; and the conduct which I pursued in this very delicate situation between
the old municipality, which complained of its removal, and the new one which pretended to
be legally instituted, was not unserviceable to the public tranquillity ; for, if I had then pro-
nounced decisively for or against, I should have occasioned a rupture that might have been
attended with most mischievous consequences. In everything there is a point of maturity
which it is requisite to know how to seize.
"'i'he administration was neglected; the mayor was no longer a centre of unity; all the
threads that I held in my hand were cut; the power was dispersed; the action of superin-
tendence was destitute of power ; the restraining action was equally so.
" Robespierre assumed, then, the ascendency in the council, and it could scarcely have
been otherwise under the circumstances in which we were, and with the temper of his mind.
I heard him deliver a speech, which grieved me to the soul ; t!>e decree for opening the bar-
riers was under discussion, and on this topic he launched out into extremely animated decla-
mations, full of the extravagances of a gloomy imagination; he saw precipices beneath his
feet, plots for the destruction of liberty ; he pointed out the alleged consj)irators ; he ad-
dressed himself to the people, heated their minds, and produced in his hearers the strongest
ferment.
" I replied to this speech for the purpose of restoring calmness, dispelling those dark illu-
sions, and bringing back the discussion to the only point that ought to occupy the attention
of tlie assembly.
'• Robespierre and his partisans were thus hurrying the commune into inconsiderate pro-
ceechngs — into extreme courses,
'• I was not on lliis account suspicious of the intentions of Robespierre. I found more fault
with his head "than with his heart ; but the consequences of these gloomy visions excited in
me not the less apprehension.
"The tribunes of the council rang every day with violent invectives. The members could
not persuade llieinselves that they were magistrates, appointed to carry the laws into execu-
tion ami to maintain order. They always considered themselves as forming a revolutionary
association.
" The assembled sections received this inlluence, and communicated it in their turn, so that
all Paris was at once in a ferment.
"'i'he committee of ,VMrce///«/ice of the commime filled the prisons. It cannot be denied
that, if several of its arrests were just and necessary, others amounted to a stretch of the law.
The chiefs were not so much to be blamed for this as their agents ; the police had bad ad-
visers ; one man in particular, whose name has become a by-word, whose name alone strikes
terror into the souls of all peaceable citizens, seemed to have seized the direction of its move-
ments. Assiduous in his attendance at all conferences, he interfered iti all matters ; he
talked, he ordered, like a master. I comjilained loudly of this to the commune, and I con-
cluded my opinion in these words : ' Marat is either the most wrongheaded or the most wicked
of men.' From that day I have never mentioned him.
"Justice was slow in pronouncing upon the fate of the prisoners, and the prison became
more and more crowiled. On the 2:3d of August, a section came in deputation to the council
of the commune, and formally declared that the citizens, tired of and indignant at the delay
of judgment, would break open the doors of those asylums, and sacrifice the culprits confined
in them to their vengeance Tliis petition, couched in the most furious language, met
with no censure ; nay, it received applause !
" On the ^oih, fmm one thousand to twelve hundred armed citizens set out from Paris to
remove the state prisoners confined at (Jrleans to other places.
428 HISTORY OF THE
Fabre's motion was witlidrawn, and Robespierre the young-er, assuming
a lugubrious tone, as the relatives of accused persons were accustomed to do
" Disastrous intelligence arrived to increase still more the agitation of the public mind ; the
treason of Longwy became known, and some days afterwards, the siege of Verdun.
" On the 27lh, the National Assembly invited the department of Paris, and those contiguous
to it, to furnish thirty thousand armed men, to be despatched to the frontiers, 'i'his decree
excited a fresh sensation, which combined wilh that already prevailing. ^
"On the 31st, the acquittal of Montmorin produced a popular commotion. It was ru-
moured that he had been saved through the perfidy of an emissary of the King, who had led
the jurors into error.
" At the same moment a revelation of a plot made by a condemned person was published
— a plot tending to eifect the escape of all the prisoners, who were then to spread themselves
through the city, to commit all sorts of excesses, and to carry off the King.
" Agitation was at its height. The commune, in order to excite the enthusiasm of the
citizens, and to induce them to enrol themselves the more freely, had resolved that they should
assemble with great parade in the Champ de Mars amidst the discharge of cannon.
" The 2d of September arrived. Oh, day of horror ! 'I'he alarm-gun was fired, the tocsin
rang. At this doleful and alarming sound, a mob collected, broke into the prisons, munier-
ing and slaughtering. Manuel and several deputies of the National Assembly repaired to
those scenes of carnage. Their efforts were useless; the victims were sacrificed in their very
arms ! I was, meanwhile, in a false security ; I was ignorant of these cruelties ; for some
time past, nothing whatever had been communicated to me. At length I was informed of
them, but how ! in a vague, indirect, disfigured manner. I was told at the same time that
all was over. The most afflicting particulars afterwards reached me; but I felt thoroughly
convinced that the day which had witiiessed such atrocious scenes could never return. They
nevertheless continued: I wrote to the commandant-general. I required him to despatch
forces to the prisons ; at first he gave me no answer. I wrote again. He told me that he
had given his orders; nothing indicated that those orders were attended to. Still they con-
tinued : I went to the council of the commune ; thence I repaired to the hotel of La Force
with several of my colleagues. The street leading to that prison was crowded with very
peaceable citizens; a weak guard was at the door; I entered Never will the spectacle
that I there beheld be effaced from my memory. I saw two municipal ollicers in their scarfs ;
I saw three men quietly seated at a table, with lists of the prisoners lying open before them ;
these were calling over the names of the prisoners. Other men were examining them, others
performing the office of judges and jurors; a dozen executioners, with bare arms, covered
with blood, some with clubs, others with swords and cutlasses dripping with gore, were
executing the sentences forthwith ; citizens outside awaiting these sentences — with impa-
tience observing the saddest silence at the decrees of death, and raising shouts of joy at those
of acquittal.
" And the men who sat as judges, and those who acted as executioners, felt the same
security as if the law had called them to perform those functions. They boasted to me of
their justice, of their attention to distinguish the innocent from the guilty, of the services
which they had rendered. They demanded — will it be believed 1 — they demanded pay-
ment for the time they had been so employed I .... I was really confounded to hear them !
"I addressed to them the austere language of the law. I spoke to them with the feeling
of profound indignation with which I was penetrated. I made them all leave the place
before me. No sooner had I gone myself than they returned ; I went back to the places to
drive ihern away; but in the night they completed their horrid butchery.
"Were these murders commanded — were they directed, by any persons'? I have had
lists before me, I have received reports, and I have collected particulars. If I had to pro-
nounce as judge, I could not say, This is the culprit.
" It is my opinion that those crimes would not have had such free scope, that they might
have been stopped, if all those who had power in their hands and energy had viewed them
with horror; I)UL I will affirm, because it is true, that several of these public men, of these
defenders of the country, conceived that those disastrous and disgraceful proceedings were
necessary, that they purged the empire of dangerous persons, that they struck terror into
the souls of the conspirators, and that these crimes, morally odious, were politically
serviceable.
" Yes this is what cooled the zeal of those to whom the law had committed the mainte-
nance of order — of those to whom it had assigned the protection of persons and property.
"It is obvious how the 2d, 3d, 4th, and 5th of September may be connected with the ira-
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 429
at Rome, complained that he was not calumniated like his brother. " It is
a moment," said he, '• of the greatest danger. All the people are not for
mortal 10th of August ; how the former may be represented as a sequel to the revolutionary
movement ini(iarted on that day, the first in the annals of the republic ; but I cannot bring
myself to confound glory with infamy, and to stain the 10th of August with the atrocities of
the 2d of September.
"The committee of surveillance actually issued an order for the arrest of Roland, the
minister. This was on the 4th, and the massacres still continued. Danton was informed
of it; he came to the mairie .- he was with Robespierre; he warmly inveighed against this
arbitrary, this mad act ; it woulil have ruined, not Roland, but those who decreed it ; Danton
obtained its revocation ; it was buried in oblivion.
"I had an explanation with Robespierre; it was very warm. To his face I have never
spared those reproaches which friendshij) has tempered in his absence. I said to him, ' Ro-
bespierre, you arc doing a great deal of mischief. Your denunciations, your alarms, your
animosities, your sus|)icions, agitate the people. But come, explain yourself. Have you
facts ? have you proofs 1 I am ready to meet you ; I am attached to truth alone ; I want but
liberty.'
" ' You suffer yourself to be surrounded, you suffer yourself to be preposse.ssed,' said he ;
'you are biassed against me; you see my enemies every day; you see Brissot and his
party.'
" ' You are mistaken, Robespierre. No man is more on his guard than myself against
prepossessions, or judges more coolly of men and things. I see Brissot, it is true, though
very rarely : but you do not know him, whereas I have known him from a boy. I have
seen him in those moments when the whole soul exhibits itself to view, when it abandons
itself without reserve to friendship and confidence. I know his disinterestedness, I know his
principles, and I protest to you that they arc pure. Those who make a party leader of him
have not the sligliiest idea of his character ! he possesses intelligence, and knowledge, hut
he has neither the reserve, nor the dissimulation, nor the insinuating marmers, nor that
spirit of sequence, which constitute a party leader, and what will surprise you is that, instead
of leading others, he is very easily misled himself.'
" Robespierre persisted in his opinion, but confined himself to generalities. ' Do let us
understand one another,' said I: ' tell me frankly what you have upon your mind, what you
know.'
" ' Well, then,' he replied, ' I believe that Brissot is with Brunswick.'
" ' What an egregious mistake !' I exclaimed : ' nay, it is truly insanity : that is the way
in which your imagination misleads you: would not Brunswick be the first to cut off his
head 1 Brissot is not silly enough to doubt it. Which of us seriously can capitulate? which
of us does not risk his life] Let us banish unjust sus[)icions,'
" I return to the events of which I have given you a faint sketch. These events, and some
of those which preceded the celebrated 10th of August, an attentive consideration of the facts
and of a multitude of circumstances, have induced a belief that intriguers were striving to
make a tool of the people, in order with the people to make themselves masters of the
suijremc authority. Robespierre has been oj)enly named ; his connexions have been exa-
mined, his conduct analyzed ; an expression dropped, it is said, by one of his friends, has been
caught up, and it has been inferred that Robespierre cherished the mad ambition of becoming
the dictator of his country.
" The character of Robespierre accounts for his actions. Robespierre is extremely suspi-
cious and distrustful. He everywhere perceives plots, treasons, preci[)ices. His hiliuus
temperament, his splenetic imagination, present all objects to him in gloomy colours. Impe-
rious in his opinion, listening to none but himself, impatient of CDiitradiclion, never forgiving
any one who may have hurt his self-love, and never acknowledging himself in the wrong;
denouncing on the slightest grounds and irritating himself on the slightest suspicion, always
conceiving that people are watching and designing to persecute him ; boasting of himself
and talking without reserve of his services; an utter stranger to decorum, and thus injuring
the cause which he defends ; coveting above all things the favour of the people, continually
paying court to them, and earnestly si-eking their applause; it is this, it is, above all, this
last weakness that, mixing itself up with all the acts of his public life, has induced a belief
that Robespierre aspired to high destinies, and that he wanted to usurp the dictatorial power.
" For my part^I cannot persuade myself that this chimera has seriously engaged his
thoughts, that it hks been the object of his wishes and the aim of his ambition.
" He is, nevertheless, a man who has intoxicated himself with this fantastic notion, who
430 HISTORY OF THE
us. It is only the citizens of Paris who are sufficiently enlig-htened : the
others are so but in a very imperrecl degree. It is possible, therefore, that
innocence may succumb on Monday ; ibr the Convention has heard out the
long lie of Louvet. " Citizens !" he exclaimed, " I have had a terrible
fright. Mcthoiiglit assassins were going to butcher my brother. I have
heard men say that he would perish by such hands only. Another told me
that he would ghidly be his executioner."* At these words, several mem-
bers rose, and declared that they too had been threatened, that it was by
Barbaroux, by Rebecqui, and by several citizens in the trilnines ; that those
who threatened them said, "We must get rid of Marat and Robespierre."
Tlie members then thronged around the younger Robespierre and promised
to protect his brother; and it was determined that all those who had friends
or relatives in the departments should write for the purpose of enlightening-
the public opinion. Robespierre the younger, on leaving the tribune, did
not fail to add a calumny. Anacharsis Cloots, he said, had assured liirn that
he was every day l)reaking lances at Roland's against federalism.
Next came the fiery Chabot. What particularly offended him in Louvpt's
speech was, that lie attributed the 10th of August to himself and his friends,
and the 2d of September to two hundred murderers. " Now," said Cliabot,
" I myself well remember that, on the evening of the 9th of August, I
addressed myself to the gentlemen of tlie riglit side, to propose the insurrec-
tion to them, and that they replied by curling up their lips into a smile. I
know not then what right they have to attribute to themselves the 10th of
August. As for the 2d of September, its author is also that same populace
which produced the 10th of August in spite of them, and wliich, after the
victory, wished to avenge itself. Louvet asserts that there were not two
hundred murderers, and I can assure liim that I passed with the commis-
sioners of the Legislative Assembly, under an arch of ten thousand swords. I
recognised more than one hundred and fifty federalists. There are no
crimes in revolutions. Marat, so vehemently accused, is persecuted solely
for revolutionary acts. To-day Marat, Danton, Robespierre, are accused.
To-morrow it will be Santerre, Chabot, Merlin," &c.
Excited by this audacious harangue, a federalist present at the sitting
did wliat no man had yet publicly dared to do. He declared that he was
at tvork with a great numlier of his comrades in the prisons, and that he
believed he was only putting to death conspirators and forgers of false
assignats, and saving Paris from massacre and conflagration. He added that
he thanked the society for the kindness which it had sliown to them all,
that they should set out the next day for the army, and should carry witli
them but one regret, that of leaving patriots in such great dangers.
This atrocious declaration terminated the sitting. Robespierre had not
made his appearance, neither did he appear during the whole week, being
engaged in arranging his answer, and leaving his partisans to prepare the
public opinion. The commune of Paris persisted meanwhile in its conduct
has never ceased to call for a dictatorship in France, as a blessinq;, as the only government
that could save us from the anarchy that he preached, that could lead us to liberty and hap-
piness ! He solicited this tyrannical power, for whom T You would never believe it; you
are not aware of the full extent of the delirium of his vanity ; he solicited it for whom, yes,
for whom, hut Marat! If his folly were not ferocious, there would be nothing so ridiculous
as that creature on whom Nature seems purposely to have set the seal of reprobation."
* " Young Robespierre was, what might he called, an agreeable young man, animated by
no bad sentiments, and believing, or feigning to believe, that his brother was led on bv a
parcel of wretches, every one of whom he would banish to Cayenne, if he were in his
place." — Duchass (TAbrantes.
FRENCH REVOLUTIOX. 431
and its system. It was alleged tlrat it had taken not less than ten millions
from the chest of Septeuil, treasurer of the civil list ; and at that very mo-
ment it was circulating a petition to tlie forty-four municipalities against the
plan for giving- a guard to tlie Convention, liarbaroux immediately pro-
posed four formidable and judiciously conceived decrees:
By the first, the capital was to lose the right of being the seat of the na-
tional representation, when it could no longer find means to protect it from
insult or violence.
By the second, the federalists and the national gendarmes were, conjointly
with the armed sections of Paris, to guard the national representation and
the public establishments.
By the third, the Convention was to constitute itself a court of justice for
the purpose of trying the conspirators.
By the fourth and last, the Convention was to cashier the municipality
of Paris.
These four decrees were perfectly adapted to circumstances, and suitable
to the real dangers of the moment, but it would have required all the power
that could only be given by the decrees themselves in order to pass them.
To create energetic means, energy is requisite ; and every moderate party
which strives to check a violent partv is in a vicious circle, which it can
never get out of. No doubt tl;e majority, inclining to tlie Girondins, might
have been able to carry the decrees ; but it was its moderation that made it
incline to them, and this very moderation counselled it to wait, to temporize,
to trust to the future, and to avoid all measures that were prematurely ener-
getic. The Assembly even rejected a much less rigorous decree, the first
of those which the commission of nine had been charged to draw up. It
was proposed liy Buzot, and related to tbe instigators of murder and confla-
gration. All direct instigation was to be punished with death, and indirect
instigation with ten years' imprisonment. Tlie Assembly considered the
penalty for direct instigation too severe, and indirect instillation too vaguely
defined and too difiicult to reach. To no purpose did Buzot insist that
revolutionary and consequently arbitrary measures were required against the
adversaries who were to be combated. He was not listened to, neither
could he be, when addressing a majority which condemned revolutionary
measures in the violent party itself, and was therefore very unlikely to employ
them against it. The law was consequently adjourned; and the commission
of nine appointed to devise means of maintaining good order, became, in a
manhur, useless.
The Assembly, however, manifested more energy, when the question of
checking the excesses of the commune came under discussion. It seemed
then to defend its authority with a sort of jealousy and energy. The gene-
ral council of the comnume, sununoned to the bar on occasion of the petition
against the plan of a departmental guard, came to justify itself. It was not
the same body, it alleged, as on the 10th of August. It had contained pre-
varicators. They had been justly denounced and were no longer among
its members. "Confound not," it added, "the innocent with the guilty.
Bestow on iis the confidence whicli we need. We are desirous of restor-
ing the tranquillitv necessary for tiie Convention, in order to tlie enactment
of good laws. As for the presentation of this petition, it was the sections
that insisted upon it ; we are only their agents, but we will persuade them
to withdraw it."
This submission disarmed the Girondins themselves, and, at the request
of Gensonnc, the honours of the sitting were granted to the general council.
432 HISTORY OF THE
This docility of the administrators might well gratify the pride of the As-
sembly, but it proved iiolliing as to the real disposition of Paris. The tumult
increased, as the 5th of November, the day tixed for hearing Robespierre,
approached. On the preceding day there were outcries in a contrary spirit.
Bands went through the streets, some shouting : " To the guillotine, Robes-
pierre, Danton, Marat!" — others, '* Death to Roland, Lasource, Guadet!"
Complaints were made on this suhject at the Jacobins, but no notice was
taken, except of the cries against Robespierre, Danton, and Marat. These
cries were laid to the charge of dragoons and federalists, who at that time
were still devoted to the Convention. Robespierre the younger again
appeared in tlie tribune, deplored tlie dangers which beset innocence, con-
demned a plan of conciliation proposed by a member of the society, saying
that the opposite party was decidedly counter-revolutionary, and that neither
peace nor truce ought to be made with it; that no doubt innocence would
perish in the struggle, but it was requisite that it should be sacrificed, and
Maximilien Robespierre must be suffered to fall, because the ruin of one
individual would not be attended with that of liberty. All the Jacobins
applauded these fine sentiments, assuring the younger Robespierre that
nothing of the sort would happen, and that his brother should not perish.
Complaints of a contrary kind were preferred to the Assembly, and there
the shouts against Roland, liasource, and Guadet, were denounced. Roland
complained of the inefticacy of his requisitions to the department and to the
commune, to obtain an armed force. Much discussion ensued, reproaches
were exchanged, and the day passed without the adoption of any measure.
At length, on the following day, November the 5th, Robespierre appeared
in the tribune.
The concourse was great, and the result of this solemn discussion was
awaited with impatience. Robespierre's speech was very long and care-
fully composed. His answers to Louvet's accusations were such as a man
never fails to make in such a case. "You accuse me," said he, "of aspir
ing to tyranny; but, in order to attain it, means are required; and where
are my treasures and my armies ? You allege that I have reared at the
Jacobins the edifice of my power. But what does this prove ? Only that
I have been heard with more attention, that I appealed perhaps more forci-
bly than you to the reason of that society, and that you are but striving
here to revenge the wounds indicted on your vanity. You pretend that this
celebrated society has degenerated ; but demand a decree of accusation
against it, I will theri take care to justify it, and we shall see if you will
prove more successful or more persuasive than Leopold and Lafayette
You assert that I did not appear at the commune till two days after the 10th
of August, and that I then, of my own authority, installed myself at the
bureau. But, in the first place, I was not called to it sooner, and when I
did appear at the bureau, it was not to instal myself there, but to have my
powers verified. You add that I insulted the Legislative Assembly, that I
threatened it with the tocsin. The assertion is false. Some one placed
near me accused mi"! of sounding the tocsin. I replied to the speaker that
they were the ringers of the tocsin, who by injustice soured people's minds ;
and then one of my colleagues, less reserved, added that it would be sounded.
Such is the simple fact on which my accuser has built this falile. In the
electoral assembly, I have spoken, but it was agreed upon that this libertj.
might be taken. I made some ol)servations, and several otliers availed them
selves of the same privilege. I have neither accused nor recommended any
one. That man, whom you charge me with making use of, was never
FRENCH REVOLUTION. 433
either my friend, or rocommended by me. Were I to judge him by those
who attack him, lie would stand acquitted, but I decide not. I shall merely
say that he has ever been a stranger to me ; that once he came to my house,
when I made some observations on his Avritings, on their exaggeration, and
on the regret felt bv the patriots at seeing him compromise our cause by the
violence of his opinions ; but he set me down for a politician having narrow
views, and published this the very next day. It is a calumny then to sup-
pose me to be the instigator and the ally of this man."
Passing from these personal accusations to the general charges directed
against the commune, Robespierre repeated, with all his defenders, that the
2d of September was the sequel to the 10th of August ; that it is impossible,
after the event, to mark the precise point where the billows of popular insur-
rection must have broken ; that the executions were undoubtedly illegal, but
that without illegal measures despotism could not be shaken off; that the
whole Revolution was liable to the same reproach ; for everything in it was
illegal, both the overthrow of the throne and the capture of the Bastille.
He then described the dangers of Paris, the indignation of the citizens,
their concourse around the prisons, and their irresistible fury, on thinking
that they should leave behind them conspirators who would butcher their
families. "It is afhrmed that one innocent man has perished," exclaimed
the speaker with emphasis, " one only, and that one a great deal too much,
most assuredly. Lament, citizens, this cruel mistake ! We have long
lamented it ; this was a good citizen ; he was one of our friends ! Lament
even the victims who ought to have been reserved for the vengeance of the
laws, but who fell beneath the sword of popular justice ! But let your
grief have an end, like all human things. Let us reserve some tears for
more touching calamities. Weep for one hundred thousand patriots immo-
lated by tyranny ! Weep for our citizens expiring beneath their blazing
roofs, and the children of citizens slaughtered in their cradles or in the
arms of their mothers ! Weep humanity bowed down beneath the yoke of
tyrants ! . . . But cheer up, if, imposing silence on all base passions, you
are resolved to insure the happiness of your country, and to prepare that
of the world !
" I cannot help suspecting that sensibility which mourns almost exclu-
sively for the enemies of liberty. Cease to shake before my face the bloody
robe of the tyrant, or I shall believe that you intend to rivet Rome's fetters
upon her again !" •
It was with this medley of subtle logic and revolutionary declamation, that
Robespierre contrived to captivate his auditory and to obtain unanimous ap-
plause. All that related to himself personally was just, and it was imprudent
on the part of the Girondins to stigmatize as a plan of usurpation that which
was as yet but an ami)ition of indueuce, rendered hateful by an envious dis-
position. It was imprudent to point out in the acts of the commune the
proofs of a vast conspiracy, when they exhibited nothing but the agitation of
popular passions. The Girondins thus furnished the Assenildy with an
occasion to charge them with wronging their adversaries. Flattered, as it
were to see the alleged leader of the conspirators forced to justify himself,
delighted to see all the crimes accounted for as the consequence of an insur-
rection thenceforward impracticable, and to dream of a happier future, the
Convention deemed it more dignified, more prudent, to put an end to all
these personalities.^ Tlie order of the day was therefore moved. Lou vet
rose to oppose it, and demanded permission to reply. A great number of
members presented themselves, desirous of speaking for, on, or against, the
VOL. I. — 55 2 O
434 HISTORY OF THE
order of the day. Barbaroux, liopeless of gaining a hearing, rushed to the
bar that he might at least address the Assembly as a petitioner. Lanjuinais
proposed that the important questions involved in Roland's report should be
taken into consideration. At length, Barrere ■■ obtained permission to speak.
" Citizens," said he, " if there existed in the republic a man born with the
genius of Cajsar or the boldness of Cromwell, a man possessing the dan-
gerous means together Avith the talents of Sylla : if there existed here any
legislator of great genius, of vast ambition, or of a profound character ; a
general, for instance, his brow wreathed with laurels, and returning among
you to dictate laws or to violate the rights of the people, I should move fur
a decree of accusation against him. But tliat you should do this honour to
men of a day, to petty dabblers in commotion, to those whose civic crowns
are intwined with cypress, is what I am incapable of comprehending."
This singular mediator proposed to assign the following motive for tlie
order of the day : " Considering that the National Convention ought not to
occupy itself with any other interests than those of the republic." — "I
oppose your order of the day," cried Robespierre, if it contains a preamble
injurious to me." The Assembly adopted the pure and simple order of the
day.
The partisans of Robespierre hastened to the Jacobins to celebrate tliis
victory, and he was himself received as a triumphant conqueror.t As soon
as he appeared, he was greeted with plaudits. A member desired that he
migiit be permitted to speak, in order tliat he miglit relate die proceedinjrs
of the day. Another declared that his modesty would prevent his compli-
ance, and that he declined speaking. Robespierre, enjoying this entluisiasm
in silence, left to another the task of an adulatory harangue. He was called
Aristides. His natural and 'inanly eloquence was lauded widi an affectation
•which proves how well known was his fondness for literary praise. Tlie
Convention was reinstated in the esteem of the society, and it was asserted
that the triumph of truth had begun, and that there was now no occasion to
despair of the salvation of the republic.
Barrere was called to account for the manner in which he had expressed
himself respecting petty dabblers in commotion: and he laid bare his
character most completely by declaring tliat he alluded in those words not
to the ardent patriots accused with Robespierre, but to their adversaries.
Such was the result of that celebrated accusation. It was an absolute im-
• "Barrere is a sort of undefinable creature — a species of coffee-house wit. He used to
go every day, after leaving tfie committee, to visit a female with whom Champcenetz lived.
He would remain with her till midnight, and would fre(iuently say, ' To-morrow we shall get
lid of fifteen, twenty, or thirty of them.' When the woman expressed her horror of these
murders, he would reply, ' We must grease the wheels of the Revolution,' and then depart,
laughing." — Monfgailtard. E.
■f- "Robespierre, who afterwards played so terrible a part in our Revolution, began from this
memorable day to figure among its foremost ranks. This man, whose talents were but of an
ordinary kind, and whose disposition was vain, owed to his inferiority his late appearance on
the stage, which in revolutions is always a great advantage. Robespierre had all the quali-
ties of a tyrant; a mind which was without grandeur, but which, nevertheless, was not
vulgar. He was a living proof that, in civil troubles, obstinate mediocrity is more powerful
than the irregularity of genius. It must also be allowed that Robespierre possessed the sup-
port of an immense fanatical sect, which derived its origin from the eighteenth century. It
took for its political symbol the absolute sovereignty of the ' Conf rat Social' of J. J. Rousseau ;
and in matters of belief the deism contained in the Savoyard Vicar's confession of faith; and
succeeded for a brief space in realising them in the constitution of 1793, and in the worship
of the Supreme Being. There were, indeed, in the various epochs of the Revolution, more
egotism, and more fanaticism than is generally believed." — Mignet. E.
FRENCH REVOLUTION, 435
prudence. The whole conduct of tlie Girondins is characterized by tliis
step. They felt :i £renerous indignation ; they expressed it with talent, but
tliey mixed up with it so many personal aniniosiiie?, so inativ false conjec-
tures, so many chimerical suppositions, as to liirnish lliosc who loved to
deceive themselves with a motive for disbelieving them, those who dreaded
an act of energy with a motive for concluding that there was no immediate
danger, and, lastly, tliose who affected impartiality witli a motive for refusing
to adopt their conclusions : and these classes comprehended the whole IMain.
Among them, however, the wise Petion did not participate in their exagge-
rations : he printed the speech which he had prepared, and in whirh all
circumstances were duly appreciated. Yergniaud, whose reason and dis-
dainful indolence raised him above the passions, was likewise exempt from
their inconsistencies, and he maintained a profound silence. At the moment
the only result for the Girondins was that they had rendered reconciliation
impossible ; that they had even expended on a useless combat their most
powerful and only means, words and indignation ; aiul that they had aug-
mented the hatred and the fury of their enemies without gaining for them-
selves a single additional resource.*
•"The Girondins flattered themselves thnt a simple passing to the order of the day
would extinguish Roliespierre's induence as completely as exile or death; and they actually
joined with the Jacobins in prevr ntinp the reply of Louvet — a fatal error, which France had
cause to lament in tears of hlood ! It was now evident that the Girondins were no matrh
for their terrihle adversaries. 'I'he men of action on their side in vain strove to rouse them
to the necessity of vigorous measures. 'JMieir constant reply was, that they would net he
the iirst to commence the shrddine^ of hlood. Their whole vin:our consisted in declamation
— their whole wisdom in abstract discussion. They were too honourable to believe in the
wickedness of their opponents; too scrupulous to adopt the means requisite to crush them."
— Alison. E.
END OF VOL. L
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