the Hall of the States, and finding an armed force in possession, he
protested against this act of despotism. In the meantime the deputies
arrived, and dissatisfaction increased. The most indignant proposed
going to Marly and holding the Assembly under the windows of the king;
one named the Tennis Court; this proposition was well received, and the
deputies repaired thither in procession.
Bailly was at their head; the people followed them with enthusiasm, even
soldiers volunteered to escort them, and there, in a bare hall, the
deputies of the commons, standing with upraised hands, and hearts full
of their sacred mission, swore, with only one exception, not to separate
till they had given France a constitution.
By these two failures the court prefaced the famous sitting of June 23.
At length it took place. A numerous guard surrounded the hall of the
States-General, the door of which was opened to the deputies, but closed
to the public. After a scene of authority, ill-suited to the occasion,
and at variance with his heart, Louis XVI. withdrew, having commanded
the deputies to disperse. The clergy and nobility obeyed. The deputies
of the people, motionless, silent, and indignant, remained seated.
The grand-master of the ceremonies, finding the Assembly did not break
up, came and reminded them of the king's order.
"Go and tell your master," cried Mirabeau, "that we, are here at the
command of the people, and nothing but the bayonet shall drive us
hence."
"You are to-day," added Sieyès calmly, "what you were yesterday. Let us
deliberate."
The Assembly, full of resolution and dignity, began the debate
accordingly.
On that day the royal authority was lost. The initiative in law and
moral power passed from the monarch to the Assembly. Those who, by their
counsels, had provoked this resistance did not dare to punish it Necker,
whose dismissal had been decided on that morning, was, in the evening,
entreated by the queen and Louis XVI. to remain in office.
_II.---"À la Bastille!"_
The court might still have repaired its errors, and caused its attacks
to be forgotten. But the advisers of Louis XVI., when they recovered
from the first surprise of defeat, resolved to have recourse to the use
of the bayonet after they had failed in that of authority.
The troops arrived in great numbers; Versailles assumed the aspect of a
camp; the Hall of the States was surrounded by guards, and the citizens
refused admission. Paris was also encompassed by various bodies of the
army ready to besiege or blockade it, as the occasion might require;
when the court, having established troops at Versailles, Sèvres, the
Champ de Mars, and St. Denis, thought it able to execute its project. It
began on July 11, by the banishment of Necker, who received while at
dinner a note from the king enjoining him to leave the country
immediately.
On the following day, Sunday, July 12, about four in the afternoon,
Necker's disgrace and departure became known in Paris. More than ten
thousand persons flocked to the Palais Royal. They took busts of Necker
and the Duke of Orleans, a report also having gone abroad that the
latter would be exiled, and covering them with crape, carried them in
triumph. A detachment of the Royal Allemand came up and attempted to
disperse the mob; but the multitude, continuing its course, reached the
Place Louis XV. Here they were assailed by the dragoons of the Prince de
Lambese. After resisting a few moments they were thrown into confusion;
the bearer of one of the busts and a soldier of one of the French guards
were killed.
During the evening the people had repaired to the Hôtel de Ville, and
requested that the tocsin might be sounded. Some electors assembled at
the Hôtel de Ville, and took the authority into their own hands. The
nights of July 12 and 13 were spent in tumult and alarm.
On July 13 the insurrection took in Paris a more regular character. The
provost of the merchants announced the immediate arrival of twelve
thousand guns from the manufactory of Charleville, which would soon be
followed by thirty thousand more.
The next day, July 14, the people that had been unable to obtain arms on
the preceding day came early in the morning to solicit some from the
committee, hurried in a mass to the Hôtel des Invalides, which contained
a considerable depot of arms, found 28,000 guns concealed in the
cellars, seized them, took all the sabres, swords, and cannon, and
carried them off in triumph; while the cannon were placed at the
entrance of the Faubourgs, at the palace of the Tuileries, on the quays
and on the bridges, for the defence of the capital against the invasion
of troops, which was expected every moment.
From nine in the morning till two the only rallying word throughout
Paris was "À la Bastille! A la Bastille!" The citizens hastened thither
in bands from all quarters, armed with guns, pikes, and sabres. The
crowd which already surrounded it was considerable; the sentinels of the
fortress were at their posts, and the drawbridges raised as in war. The
populace advanced to cut the chains of the bridge. The garrison
dispersed them with a charge of musketry. They returned, however, to the
attack, and for several hours their efforts were confined to the bridge,
the approach to which was defended by a ceaseless fire from the
fortress.
The siege had lasted more than four hours when the French guards arrived
with cannon. Their arrival changed the appearance of the combat. The
garrison itself begged the governor to yield.
The gates were opened, the bridge lowered, and the crowd rushed into the
Bastille.
_III.--"Bread! Bread!"_
The multitude which was enrolled on July 14 was not yet, in the
following autumn, disbanded. And the people, who were in want of bread,
wished for the king to reside at Paris, in the hope that his presence
would diminish or put a stop to the dearth of provisions. On the pretext
of protecting itself against the movements in Paris, the court summoned
troops to Versailles, doubled the household guards, and sent in
September (1789) for the dragoons and the Flanders regiment.
The officers of the Flanders regiment, received with anxiety in the town
of Versailles, were fêted at the château, and even admitted to the
queen's card tables. Endeavours were made to secure their devotion, and
on October 1, a banquet was given to them by the king's guards. The king
was announced. He entered attired in a hunting dress, the queen leaning
on his arm and carrying the dauphin. Shouts of affection and devotion
arose on every side. The health of the royal family was drunk with
swords drawn, and when Louis XVI. withdrew the music played "O Richard!
O mon roi! L'univers t'abandonne." The scene now assumed a very
significant character; the march of the Hullans and the profusion of
wine deprived the guests of all reserve. The charge was sounded;
tottering guests climbed the boxes as if mounting to an assault; white
cockades were distributed; the tri-colour cockade, it is said, was
trampled on.
The news of this banquet produced the greatest sensation in Paris. On
the 4th suppressed rumours announced an insurrection; the multitude
already looked towards Versailles. On the 5th the insurrection broke out
in a violent and invincible manner; the entire want of flour was the
signal. A young girl, entering a guardhouse, seized a drum and rushed
through the streets beating it and crying, "Bread! Bread!" She was soon
surrounded by a crowd of women. This mob advanced towards the Hôtel de
Ville, increasing as it went. It forced the guard that stood at the
door, and penetrated into the interior, clamouring for bread and arms;
it broke open doors, seized weapons, and marched towards Versailles. The
people soon rose _en masse_, uttering the same demand, till the cry "To
Versailles!" rose on every side. The women started first, headed by
Maillard, one of the volunteers of the Bastille. The populace, the
National Guard, and the French guards requested to follow them.
During this tumult the court was in consternation; the flight of the
king was suggested, and carriages prepared. But, in the meantime, the
rain, fatigue, and the inaction of the household troops lessened the
fury of the multitude, and Lafayette arrived at the head of the Parisian
army.
His presence restored security to the court, and the replies of the king
to the deputation from Paris satisfied the multitude and the army.
About six next morning, however, some men of the lower class, more
enthusiastic than the rest, and awake sooner than they, prowled round
the château. Finding a gate open, they informed their companions, and
entered.
Lafayette, apprised of the invasion of the royal residence, mounted his
horse and rode hastily to the scene of danger. On the square he met some
of the household troops surrounded by an infuriated mob, who were on the
point of killing them. He threw himself among them, called some French
guards who were near, and having rescued the household troops and
dispersed their assailant, he hurried to the château. But the scene was
not over. The crowd assembled again in the marble court under the king's
balcony, loudly called for him, and he appeared. They required his
departure for Paris. He promised to repair thither with his family, and
this promise was received with general applause. The queen was resolved
to accompany him, but the prejudice against her was so strong that the
journey was not without danger. It was necessary to reconcile her with
the multitude. Lafayette proposed to her to accompany him to the
balcony. After some hesitation, she consented. They appeared on it
together, and to communicate by a sign with the tumultuous crowd, to
conquer its animosity and to awaken its enthusiasm, Lafayette
respectfully kissed the queen's hand. The crowd responded with
acclamations.
Thus terminated the scene; the royal family set out for Paris, escorted
by the army, and its guards mixed with it.
The autumn of 1789 and the whole of the year 1790 were passed in the
debate and promulgation of rapid and drastic reforms, by which the
Parliament within eighteen months reduced the monarchy to little more
than a form. Mirabeau, the most popular member, and in a sense the
leader of the Parliament, secretly agreed with the court to save the
monarchy from destruction; but on his sudden death, on April 2, 1791,
the king and queen, in terror at their situation, determined to fly from
Paris. The plan, which was matured during May and June, was to reach the
frontier fortress of Montmédy by way of Chalons, and to take refuge with
the army on the frontier.
The royal family made every preparation for departure; very few persons
were informed of it, and no measures betrayed it. Louis XVI. and the
queen, on the contrary, pursued a line of conduct calculated to silence
suspicion, and on the night of June 20 they issued at the appointed hour
from the château, one by one, in disguise, and took the road to Chalons
and Montmédy.
The success of the first day's journey, the increasing distance from
Paris, rendered the king less reserved and more confident. He had the
imprudence to show himself, was recognised, and arrested at Varennes on
the 21st.
The king was provisionally suspended--a guard set over him, as over the
queen--and commissioners were appointed to question him.
_IV.--Europe Declares War on the Revolution_
While this was passing in the Assembly and in Paris, the emigrants, whom
the flight of Louis XVI. had elated with hope, were thrown into
consternation at his arrest. Monsieur, who had fled at the same time as
his brother, and with better fortune, arrived alone at Brussels with the
powers and title of regent. The emigrants thenceforth relied only on the
assistance of Europe; the officers quitted their colours; 290 members of
the Assembly protested against its decrees; in order to legitimatise
invasion, Bouillé wrote a threatening letter, in the inconceivable hope
of intimidating the Assembly, and at the same time to take up himself
the sole responsibility of the flight of Louis XVI.; finally the
emperor, the King of Prussia, and the Count d'Artois met at Pilnitz,
where they made the famous declaration of August 27, 1791, preparatory
to the invasion of France.
On April 20, 1792, Louis XVI. went to the Assembly, attended by all his
ministers. In that sitting war was almost unanimously decided upon. Thus
was undertaken against the chief of confederate powers that war which
was protracted throughout a quarter of a century, which victoriously
established the revolution, and which changed the whole face of Europe.
On July 28, when the allied army of the invaders began to move from
Coblentz, the Duke of Brunswick, its commander-in-chief, published a
manifesto in the name of the emperor and the King of Prussia. He
declared that the allied sovereigns were advancing to put an end to
anarchy in France, to arrest the attacks made on the altar and the
throne. He said that the inhabitants of towns _who dared to stand on the
defensive_ should instantly be punished as rebels, with the rigour of
war, and their houses demolished or burned; and that if the Tuileries
were attacked or insulted, the princes would deliver Paris over to
military execution and total subversion.
This fiery and impolitic manifesto more than anything else hastened the
fall of the throne, and prevented the success of the coalition.
The insurgents fixed the attack on the Tuileries for the morning of
August 10. The vanguard of the Faubourgs, composed of Marseillese and
Breton Federates, had already arrived by the Rue Saint Honoré, stationed
themselves in battle array on the Carrousel, and turned their cannon
against the Tuileries, when Louis XVI. left his chamber with his family,
ministers, and the members of the department, and announced to the
persons assembled for the defence of the palace that he was going to the
National Assembly. All motives for resistance ceased with the king's
departure. The means of defence had also been diminished by the
departure of the National Guards who escorted the king. The Swiss
discharged a murderous fire on the assailants, who were dispersed. The
Place du Carrousel was cleared. But the Marseillese and Bretons soon
returned with renewed force; the Swiss were fired on by the cannon, and
surrounded; and the crowd perpetrated in the palace all the excesses of
victory.
Royalty had already fallen, and thus on August 10 began the dictatorial
and arbitrary epoch of the revolution.
During three days, from September 2, the prisoners confined in the
Carmes, the Abbaye, the Conciergerie, the Force, etc., were slaughtered
by a band of about three hundred assassins. On the 20th, the in itself
almost insignificant success of Valmy, by checking the invasion,
produced on our troops and upon opinion in France the effect of the most
complete victory.
On the same day the new Parliament, the Convention, began its
deliberations. In its first sitting it abolished royalty, and proclaimed
the republic. And already Robespierre, who played so terrible a part in
our revolution, was beginning to take a prominent position in the
debates.
The discussion on the trial of Louis XVI. began on November 13. The
Assembly unanimously decided, on January 20, 1793, that Louis was
guilty; when the appeal was put to the question, 284 voices voted for,
424 against it; 10 declined voting. Then came the terrible question as
to the nature of the punishment. Paris was in a state of the greatest
excitement; deputies were threatened at the very door of the Assembly.
There were 721 voters. The actual majority was 361. The death of the
king was decided by a majority of 26 votes.
He was executed at half-past ten in the morning of January 21, and his
death was the signal for an almost universal war.
This time all the frontiers of France were to be attacked by the
European powers.
The cabinet of St. James, on learning the death of Louis XVI., dismissed
the Ambassador Chauvelin, whom it had refused to acknowledge since
August 10 and the dethronement of the king. The Convention, finding
England already leagued with the coalition, and consequently all its
promises of neutrality vain and illusive, on February 1, 1793, declared
war against the King of Great Britain and the stadtholder of Holland,
who had been entirely guided by the cabinet of St. James since 1788.
Spain came to a rupture with the republic, after having interceded in
vain for Louis XVI., and made its neutrality the price of the life of
the king. The German Empire entirely adopted the war; Bavaria, Suabia,
and the Elector Palatine joined the hostile circles of the empire.
Naples followed the example of the Holy See, and the only neutral powers
were Venice, Switzerland, Sweden, Denmark, and Turkey.
In order to confront so many enemies, the Convention decreed a levy of
300,000 men.
The Austrians assumed the offensive, and at Liège put our army wholly to
the rout.
Meanwhile, partial disturbances had taken place several times in La
Vendée. The Vendéans beat the gendarmerie at Saint Florens. The troops
of the line and the battalions of the National Guard who advanced
against the insurgents were defeated.
At the same time tidings of new military disasters arrived, one after
the other. Dumouriez ventured a general action at Neerwinden, and lost
it. Belgium was evacuated, Dumouriez had recourse to the guilty project
of defection. He had conference with Colonel Mack, and agreed with the
Austrians to march upon Paris for the purpose of re-establishing the
monarchy, leaving them on the frontiers, and having first given up to
them several fortresses as a guarantee. He proceeded to the execution of
his impractical design. He was really in a very difficult position; the
soldiers were very much attached to him, but they were also devoted to
their country. He had the commissioners of the Convention arrested by
German hussars, and delivered them as hostages to the Austrians. After
this act of revolt he could no longer hesitate. He tried to induce the
army to join him, but was forsaken by it, and then went over to the
Austrian camp with the Duc de Chartres, Colonel Thouvenot, and two
squadrons of Berchiny. The rest of his army went to the camp at Famars,
and joined the troops commanded by Dampierre.
The Convention on learning the arrest of the commissions, established
itself as a permanent assembly, declared Dumouriez a traitor, authorised
any citizen to attack him, set a price on his head, and decreed the
famous Committee of Public Safety.
_V.---The Committee of Public Safety_
Thus was created that terrible power which first destroyed the enemies
of the Mountain, then the Mountain and the commune, and, lastly, itself.
The committee did everything in the name of the Convention, which it
used as an instrument. It nominated and dismissed generals, ministers,
representatives, commissioners, judges, and juries. It assailed
factions; it took the initiative in all measures. Through its
commissioners, armies and generals were dependent upon it, and it ruled
the departments with sovereign sway.
By means of the law touching suspected persons, it disposed of men's
liberties; by the revolutionary tribunal, of men's lives; by levies and
the maximum, of property; by decrees of accusation in the terrified
Convention, of its own members. Lastly, its dictatorship was supported
by the multitude who debated in the clubs, ruled in the revolutionary
committees; whose services it paid by a daily stipend, and whom it fed
with the maximum. The multitude adhered to a system which inflamed its
passions, exaggerated its importance, assigned it the first place, and
appeared to do everything for it.
Two enemies, however, threatened the power of this dictatorial
government. Danton and his faction, whose established popularity gave
him great weight, and who, as victory over the allies seemed more
certain, demanded a cessation of the "Terror," or martial law of the
committee; and the commune, or extreme republican municipal government
of Paris.
The Committee of Public Safety was too strong not to triumph over the
commune, but, at the same time, it had to resist the moderate party,
which demanded the cessation of the revolutionary government and the
dictatorship of the committees. The revolutionary government had only
been created to restrain, the dictatorship to conquer; and as Danton and
his party no longer considered restraint within and further victory
abroad essential, they sought to establish legal order. Early in 1794 it
was time for Danton to defend himself; the proscription, after striking
the commune, threatened him. He was advised to be on his guard and to
take immediate steps. His friends implored him to defend himself.
"I would rather," said he, "be guillotined than be a guillotiner;
besides, my life is not worth the trouble, and I am sick of the world!"
"Well, then, thou shouldst depart."
"Depart!" he repeated, curling his lip disdainfully, "Depart! Can we
carry your country away on the sole of our shoe?"
On Germinal 10, as the revolutionary calendar went (March 31, 1796), he
was informed that his arrest was being discussed in the Committee of
Public Safety. His arrest gave rise to general excitement, to a sombre
anxiety. Danton and the rest of the accused were brought before the
revolutionary tribunal. They displayed an audacity of speech and a
contempt of their judges wholly unusual. They were taken to the
Conciergerie, and thence to the scaffold.
They went to death with the intrepidity usual at that epoch. There were
many troops under arms, and their escort was numerous. The crowd,
generally loud in its applause, was silent. Danton stood erect, and
looked proudly and calmly around. At the foot of the scaffold he
betrayed a momentary emotion. "Oh, my best beloved--my wife!" he cried.
"I shall not see thee again!" Then suddenly interrupting himself: "No
weakness, Danton!"
Thus perished the last defender of humanity and moderation; the last who
sought to promote peace among the conquerors of the revolution and pity
for the conquered. For a long time no voice was raised against the
dictatorship of terror. During the four months following the fall of the
Danton party, the committee exercised their authority without opposition
or restraint. Death became the only means of governing, and the republic
was given up to daily and systematic executions.
Robespierre, who was considered the founder of a moral democracy, now
attained the highest degree of elevation and of power. He became the
object of the general flattery of his party; he was the _great man_ of
the republic. At the Jacobins and in the Convention his preservation was
attributed to "the good genius of the republic" and to the _Supreme
Being_, Whose existence he had decreed on Floréal 18, the celebration of
the new religion being fixed for Prairial 20.
But the end of this system drew near. The committees opposed Robespierre
in their own way. They secretly strove to bring about his fall by
accusing him of tyranny.
Naturally sad, suspicious, and timid, he became more melancholy and
mistrustful than ever. He even rose against the committee itself. On
Thermidor 8 (July 25, 1794), he entered the Convention at an early hour.
He ascended the tribunal, and denounced the committee in a most skilful
speech. Not a murmur, not a mark of applause welcomed this declaration
of war.
The members of the two committees thus attacked, who had hitherto
remained silent, seeing the Mountain thwarted and the majority
undecided, thought it time to speak. Vadier first opposed Robespierre's
speech and then Robespierre himself. Cambon went further. The committees
had also spent the night in deliberation. In this state of affairs the
sitting of Thermidor 9 (July 27) began.
Robespierre, after attempting to speak several times, while his voice
was drowned by cries of "Down with the tyrant!" and the bell which the
president, Thuriot, continued ringing, now made a last effort to be
heard. "President of assassins," he cried, "for the last time, will you
let me speak?"