PREPARATIONS OF THE PARISIANS FOR THE DEFENCE OF THE CITY. THE GUARDS,
AND CITY WATCH, JOIN THE CITIZENS. THE ARMED CITIZENS APPOINT A
COMMANDER IN CHIEF. CONDUCT OF THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY DURING THE
DISTURBANCES AT PARIS. THEY PUBLISH A DECLARATION OF RIGHTS,—AND OFFER
THEIR MEDIATION WITH THE CITIZENS,—WHICH IS HAUGHTILY REFUSED BY THE
KING. PROCEEDINGS AT PARIS ON THE FOURTEENTH OF JULY. TAKING OF THE
BASTILLE. THE MAYOR SHOT. PROCEEDINGS OF THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY AT
VERSAILLES. APPEARANCE OF THE KING IN THE ASSEMBLY. HIS SPEECH.
Early in the morning of the 13th, the electors hastened to the centre of
the general alarm, the _hôtel-de-ville_, and, urged by the necessity of
the moment, passed the decrees, under deliberation, for the immediate
embodying the _garde-bourgeoise_, without waiting for the requested
sanction of the national assembly. The greater number then withdrew, to
convoke their districts; whilst the few that remained endeavoured to
calm the tumult, that was every moment augmenting, by informing the
people of this decree; representing at the same time, to the citizens,
the cogent motives which should induce them to separate, and each repair
to his own district to be enrolled. But the crowd again called for arms,
pretending, that there was a great number concealed in an arsenal, which
nobody could point out. To quiet these clamours for a moment, the people
were referred to the _prévot des marchands_[14]. He accordingly came,
and requested, that the multitude would confirm his nomination to the
function, which his majesty had confided to him. A general acclamation
was the signal of their consent; and the assembled electors immediately
turned their attention to the serious business before them.
They then established a _permanent committee_, to keep up a constant
intercourse with the different districts, to which the citizens were
again exhorted instantly to return, with all the arms they had
collected; that those arms might be properly distributed amongst the
parisian militia. But, it was impossible to pursue these important
deliberations, with any degree of order, for a fresh multitude was
continually rushing forward, to report fresh intelligence; often false
or exaggerated, and always alarming. The barriers, they were told, were
on fire; a religious house had been pillaged; and a hostile force was on
the road, in full march, to fall upon the citizens. An immense number of
coaches, waggons, and other carriages, were actually brought to the door
of the hotel; and the demands of the concourse, who had been stopped
going out of Paris, mingling with the cries of the multitude, eager to
be led towards the troops, whose approach had been announced, were only
drowned by the more lively instances of the deputies of the sixty
districts, demanding arms and ammunition, to render them active. To
appease them, and gain time, the mayor promised, if they would be
tranquil till five o’clock in the evening, then to distribute a number
of fusils; which were to be furnished by the director of a manufactory.
These assurances produced a degree of calm. Taking advantage of it, the
committee determined, that the parisian militia, for the present, should
consist of 48,000 citizens; and that the officers should be named by
each district. Many subordinate decrees also passed, all tending to
prevent the disasters naturally produced by confusion; and to provide
for the subsistence of the city. The french guards, who had during the
night assisted the citizens, now came to testify their attachment to the
common cause; and to beg to be enrolled with them. The commander of the
city watch, a military body, likewise presented himself; to assure the
committee, that the troops under his direction were disposed to obey
their orders, and assist in defending the city.
Among the carriages stopped was one of the prince de Lambesc. The people
imagined, that they had caught the prince himself; and, when they were
convinced of their mistake, it was impossible to save the coach, though
the horses were put into a neighbouring stable; and the portmanteau,
carefully detached, was lodged in the hall. This trivial circumstance is
worthy of notice, because it shows the respect then paid to property;
and that the public mind was entirely fixed on those grand objects,
which absorb private passions and interests. Stung also to the quick by
the insulting disregard of their claims, the people forcibly felt an
indignant sense of injustice, which rendered the struggle heroic.
Preparations of a warlike cast were made during the whole course of this
day; and every thing was conducted with a degree of prudence scarcely to
have been expected from such impetuosity. Trenches were thrown up,
several of the streets unpaved, and barricadoes formed in the
suburbs.—Defence was the sole object of every person’s thoughts, and
deriding personal danger, all were preparing to sell their lives at a
dear rate, furbishing up old weapons, or forging new. The old men,
women, and children, were employed in making pikes, whilst the able
bodied men paraded the streets, in an orderly manner, with most resolute
looks, yet avoiding every kind of violence: there was, in fact, an
inconceivable solemnity in the quick step of a torrent of men, all
directing their exertions to one point, which distinguished this rising
of the citizens from what is commonly termed a riot.—Equality, indeed,
was then first established by an universal sympathy; and men of all
ranks joining in the throng, those of the first could not be
discriminated by any peculiar decency of demeanour, such public spirited
dignity pervaded the whole mass.
A quantity of powder had been carried to the _hôtel-de-ville_, which the
populace, for the most unruly always collected round this central spot,
would probably have blown up in seizing, if a courageous elector[15] had
not, at the continual risk of his life, insisted on distributing it
regularly to the people. This engaged their attention a short time; but
in the evening the demand for arms became more pressing than ever,
mingled with a hoarse cry of perfidy and treason, levelled against the
mayor; which, for a while, was silenced by the arrival of a number of
military chests, thought to contain arms, and these were supposed to be
those promised by the mayor. Every possible precaution was immediately
taken by the electors, to have them speedily conveyed into the cellar,
that they might be given to those who knew best how to make use of them;
instead of being caught up by the unskilful. The french guards had
merited the confidence of the citizens; and four members of the
committee, after some deliberation, were appointed to hasten to them, to
request that they would come and take charge of the distribution. In
short, great preparations were made, previous to the opening of the
chests; but—when the chests were at last opened, in the presence of a
concourse of people, and found to contain only pieces of old
candlesticks, and such like rubbish, the impatience of the multitude,
whose courage and patriotism had been played with all day, instantly
changed into indignation and fury; and the suspicion of treason on the
part of the mayor was extended to the whole committee, whom they
threatened to blow up in their hall.
One of the electors, the marquis de la Salle, now observed, ‘that the
greatest inconvenience in their present cruel situation was the want of
order, and subordination; and that a correspondence of the different
parts of the grand machine, so necessary to promote expedition and
success, could not subsist without a commander, known and acknowledged
by the public: for all the citizens, become soldiers, are perpetually,’
he adds, ‘exposed to spend their zeal and intrepidity in superfluous
efforts; sometimes even counteracting their own designs. It is necessary
then to name a general of the first abilities and experience; I am far
from thinking myself worthy of your choice, though I offer all that I
can offer, my fortune and my life; and shall willingly serve in any
post.’ This motion produced a new discussion; and the duke d’Aumont was
appointed commander in chief. But, he half declining it, though he tried
to procrastinate his refusal, the post devolved to the marquis de la
Salle, who had been unanimously named second; and he entered immediately
on the discharge of this important trust. And this nomination
contributed to support the exertions of the committee; for in spite of
the chaotic shock, which seemed to have thrown into confusion all the
parts of this great city, the centre of union formed at the
_hôtel-de-ville_, by the assembling of the electors, was in a great
measure the salvation of the public. This municipal power, created by
circumstances, and tacitly consented to by the citizens, established a
great degree of order and obedience, even in the midst of terrour and
anarchy. The _garde-bourgeoise_ had been assembled in all the districts;
and the patrols relieved with the greatest exactness. The streets were
illuminated, to prevent confusion or dismay during the night; private
property was respected, and all the posts carefully superintended; but,
at the barriers, every carriage and every person was stopped, and
obliged to go to the _hôtel-de-ville_ to give an account of themselves.
The public particularly mistrusted the design of those who were going to
Versailles, or coming from it. Deputations had been regularly sent, to
inform the national assembly of the disturbances, which their danger and
the dread of a siege had occasioned in Paris, and of the measures
pursued to restrain the head-long fury of the people.
The national assembly, indeed, now appeared with the dignified aspect
becoming the fathers of their country; seeing their own danger, without
timidly shrinking from the line of conduct, which had provoked the
violence of the court: and the president, an old man, not being thought
equal to the present toils of office, a vice-president was appointed.
To fill this post, the marquis la Fayette was chosen: a deputy for
several reasons popular. In America, where he voluntarily risked his
life and fortune, before the french nation espoused their cause, he had
acquired certain just principles of government; and these he digested to
the extent of his understanding, which was somewhat confined. He
possessed great integrity of heart, though he was not without his
portion of the national vanity. He had already distinguished himself at
the meeting of the notables, by detecting, and exposing the peculation
of Calonne, and opposing the arbitrary proceedings of the count
d’Artois. Governed by the same motives, he had proposed, likewise,
during their sittings, some bold plans of reform, calculated to reduce
the public revenue, and lessen the grievances of the nation, at the same
stroke.—Amongst these was a motion for the abolition of the Bastille,
and other state prisons, throughout the kingdom; and the suppression of
_lettres de cachet_. And still having the same objects in view, he, the
very day the king’s sneering reply was received (the 11th), laid before
the assembly a proposal for a _DECLARATION OF RIGHTS_, similar to that
of some of the american states. The marquis de Condorcet had published a
declaration of this kind, to instruct the deputies, previous to their
meeting. La Fayette had transmitted a copy of his declaration of rights
to the assembled electors, to be read to the people; and nothing could
be better adapted to keep them firm, telling them to what point they
ought to adhere, than the short address with which it commenced.—‘Call
to mind the sentiments, that nature has engraven on the heart of every
citizen; and which take a new force, when recognized by all.—For a
nation to love liberty, it is sufficient that she knows it; and, to be
free, it is sufficient that she wills it[16].’
Mirabeau, even whilst supporting tenaciously the dignity of the national
assembly, felt a pang of envy, that another should bring forward such an
important business, as the sketch of a new constitution; avowedly that
the world might know how they had been employed, and what they were
contesting for, should they become the victims of their magnanimity.
It was impossible now for the whole assembly not to see in the change of
the ministry the danger at hand, the approach of which some had affected
to treat as a chimera. Determined, however, to continue their labours,
in the very face of such hostile preparations; yet taking every prudent
precaution to secure their safety, they sent to inform the king of the
disturbances at Paris; and to point out the evils which menaced the
state, if the troops that invested the metropolis were not sent to more
distant quarters:—offering, at the same time, to throw themselves
between the army and the citizens, to endeavour to ward off the
calamities that were likely to ensue. But the king, obstinately bent to
support the present measures, or controlled by the cabal, replied, ‘that
he was the only judge of the necessity of withdrawing the troops;’ and,
treating the offered interposition of the deputies with the most
ineffable contempt, told them, ‘that they could be of no use at Paris,
and were necessary at Versailles, to pursue those important labours,
which he should continue to recommend.’
This answer was no sooner communicated, than La Fayette moved, that
the present ministry should be declared responsible for the
consequence of their obstinacy: and the assembly further decreed, that
Necker and the rest of the ministry, who had just been sent away,
carried with them their esteem and regret:—that, alarmed by the
apprehensions of danger produced by the reply of the king, they would
not cease to insist on the removal of the troops, and the
establishment of a _garde-bourgeoise_.—They repeated their
declaration, that no intermediate power can subsist between the king
and the national assembly:—and that the public debt, having been
placed under the safe-guard of french honour, the nation not refusing
to pay the interest of it, no power had a right to utter the infamous
word—bankruptcy.—In short, the assembly declared, that they persisted
in their former decrees:—and that the present resolves should be
presented to the king, by the president, and printed for the
information of the public.
Still the court, despising the courageous remonstrances of the assembly,
and untouched by the apprehensions of the people, which seemed to be
driving them to the desperation that always conquers, stimulated the
king to persist in the prosecution of the measures, which they had
prevailed on him to adopt. The assembly, thus rendered vigilant by the
various tokens, that the crisis was arrived, which was to determine
their personal and political fate, in which that of their country was
involved, thought it prudent to make their sittings permanent. Animated
and united by the common danger, they reminded each other, ‘that, should
they perish, their country still surviving would recover it’s vigour;
and that their plans for the good of the public again warming the hearts
of frenchmen, a brave and generous people would erect on their tomb, as
an immortal trophy, a constitution solid as reason, and durable as
time:—whilst their martyrdom would serve as an example, to prove, that
the progress of knowledge and civilization is not to be stopped by the
massacre of a few individuals.’
Whatever might have been the object of the court, respecting the
national assembly, which was probably the slaughter or imprisonment
necessary to disperse them, and disconcert their theories of reform, it
is certain, that their situation wore the most threatening aspect; and
their escape was owing to the courage and resolution of the people; for
the breast of the cabinet was too callous, to feel either respect or
repugnance, when emoluments and prerogatives were in question.
It was a circumstance favourable to the people, and the cause of
humanity, that the want of common foresight in the court prevented their
guarding against resistance. For so negligent were they, that the
citizens, who were early in the morning of the 14th every where scouring
about in search of arms, requested of the committee an order to demand
those they heard were stored up at the _hôtel des invalides_; and one of
the electors was accordingly sent with them, to desire the governor to
give up to the nation all the arms and ammunition committed to his care.
He replied, that a body of citizens having already been with him, he had
sent to Versailles for orders, and entreated them to wait till the
return of the courier, whom he expected in the course of an hour or two.
This, answer at first satisfied the people, who were preparing to wait
contentedly, till one of them observing, that this was not a day to lose
time, they insisted on entering immediately; and instantly made
themselves masters of all the arms they found, to the amount of 30,000
muskets, and six pieces of cannon. A considerable quantity of different
sorts of arms were also carried away from the _garde meuble_, by a less
orderly party; and fell into the hands of vagabonds, who always mix in a
tumult, merely because it is a tumult. A hundred and fifty persons of
this description had been disarmed the preceding night at the
_hôtel-de-ville_, where they had dropped asleep on the stairs and
benches, stupefied by the brandy they had stolen: but, when they awoke,
and requested work, not having any money or bread, they were sent to
assist in the making of pikes, and the fabricating of other weapons,
which required little skill. None of the citizens appeared, in fact,
without some weapon, however uncouth, to brandish defiance, whilst sixty
thousand men, enrolled and distributed in different companies, were
armed in a more orderly, though not in a more warlike manner. The army
of liberty now, indeed, assumed a very formidable appearance; yet the
cabinet, never doubting of success, neglected in the thoughtlessness of
security, the only way left to oblige the roused people to accept of any
terms.
Paris, that immense city, second, perhaps, to none in the world, had
felt a scarcity of bread for some time, and now had not sufficient flour
to support the inhabitants for days to come[17].
If, therefore, the mareschal Broglio had cut off the supplies, the
citizens would have been reduced to the alternative of starving, or
marching in confusion to fight his army, before they could have been
disciplined for a regular action. But directed only by the depraved
sentiments of tyranny, they deemed assassination the most speedy method
of bringing the contest to an end favourable to their designs.
Unaccustomed to govern freemen, they dreamt not of the energy of a
nation shaking off it’s fetters; or, if their classical reveries had
taught them a respect for man, whilst reading the account of that brave
handful of spartans, who drove back, at the straits of Thermopylæ,
millions of marshalled slaves; they had no conception, that the cause of
liberty was still the same, and that men obeying her impulse will always
be able to resist the attacks of all the enervated mercenaries of the
globe.
The imaginations of the parisians, full of plots, created hourly many of
the objects of terrour from which they started; though the troops being
in motion around Paris naturally produced many false alarms, that their
suspicious temper might have exaggerated sufficiently, without the help
of invention. Various accounts of massacres and assassinations were
consequently brought to the _hôtel-de-ville_, which inflamed the people,
though afterwards they proved to be the idle rumours of fear. Thus much,
however, appeared certain; a squadron of hussars had actually been seen
hovering about the entrance of the _fauxbourg Saint-Antoine_, who
disappeared when two companies of the french guards approached. The
people of the same fauxbourg observed also, that the cannons of the
Bastille were turned towards their street. On receiving this
information, a message was sent from the committee to the governor of
the Bastille, to expostulate with him; and one to each of the districts,
desiring them to sound an alarm throughout, to break up the pavement of
the streets, dig ditches, and oppose every obstacle, in their power, to
the entrance of the troops. But, though the accounts of the hostile
demeanour of some of the detachments in the skirts of Paris excited
terrour, there was still reason to doubt the real disposition of the
soldiery; for a considerable number, belonging to different regiments,
had presented themselves at the barriers with arms and baggage,
declaring their decided intention to enter into the service of the
nation. They were received by the districts, and conducted to the
_hôtel-de-ville_: and the committee distributed them amongst the
national troops, with the precaution necessary to guard against the
surprise of treason.
The deputation, sent to the Bastille, now returned, to give an account
of their mission. They informed the committee, that the people, rendered
furious by the menacing position of the cannon, had already surrounded
the walls; but that they had entered without much difficulty, and were
conducted to the governor, whom they had requested to change the
disposition of his cannons; and that the reply he gave was not as
explicit as they could have wished. They then demanded to pass into the
second court, and did not without great difficulty obtain permission.
The little draw-bridge, they continued, was let down; but the great one,
which led to this court yard was raised, and they entered by an iron
gate, opened at the call of the governor. In this court they had seen
three cannons ready for action, with two cannoneers, thirty-six swiss,
and a dozen of invalids, all under arms; and the staff officers were
also assembled.—They immediately summoned them, in the name of the
honour of the nation, and for the sake of their country, to change the
direction of the cannons; and, at the instance even of the governor
himself, all the officers and soldiers swore, that the cannons should
not be fired, or would they make any use of their arms, unless they were
attacked. In short, another deputation from one of the districts had
likewise been received with great politeness by the governor; and while
they were taking some refreshment, he had actually ordered the cannons
to be drawn back; and a moment after they were informed, that the order
was obeyed.
To calm the people, these very men descended the stair-case of the
_hôtel-de-ville_, to proclaim the assurances they had received of the
amicable intentions of the governor; but, whilst the trumpet was
sounding to demand silence, the report of a cannon from the quarter of
the Bastille was heard; and at the same moment, an immense crowd
precipitated themselves into the square, fronting the hotel, with the
cry of treason. And to support the charge, they brought with them a
citizen, and a soldier of the french guards, both wounded. The rumour
was, that fifteen or twenty more, wounded at the same time, were left to
be taken care of, in different houses on the way; for that the governor,
Delaunay, had let down the first draw-bridge to engage the people to
approach, who were demanding arms; and that they, entering with
confidence on this invitation, had immediately received a discharge of
all the musketry of the fortress. This report, confirmed by the presence
of the two wounded men, demonstrated to the committee the perfidy of the
troops who guarded the Bastille, and the necessity of sending succour to
those, who, without order or sufficient force, had commenced the attack.
Mean time the fury of the people was directed against the mayor, who
endeavoured by various subterfuges to appease the rage which had been
excited by his vain promises of procuring arms. He had, it is true,
several times dispersed the multitude by sending them to different
places with orders for arms, where he knew they were not to be found;
and now, to silence the suspicions that threatned to break out in some
dreadful acts of violence, involving the whole committee in the same
destruction, he offered to make one of the third deputation; the second
appearing to be detained, to remonstrate with Delaunay, and try to
prevent an effusion of blood. A drum and colours were ordered to attend
them, because it was supposed, that the want of some signal had
prevented the others from executing their commission.
Shortly after their departure, however, the second deputation returned,
and informed the committee, that, in their way to the Bastille, they had
met a wounded citizen, carried by his companions, who informed them,
that he had received a shot from a fusil, fired from the Bastille into
the street St. Antoine; and that immediately after they had been stopped
by a crowd, who were guarding three invalids, taken firing on their
fellow citizens. Judging by these events, added they, that the danger
was increasing, we hastened our steps, animated by the hope of putting a
stop to such an unequal combat. Arrived within a hundred paces of the
fortress, we perceived the soldiers on the towers firing upon the street
St. Antoine, and we heard the report of the guns of the citizens in the
court, discharged on the garrison. Drawing nearer, we made several
signals to the governor, which were either unobserved, or disregarded.
We then approached the gate, and saw the people, almost all without any
thing to defend themselves, rushing forward exposed to the brisk fire of
artillery, that hailed directly down upon them, making great havoc. We
prevailed on those who had arms, to stop firing for a moment, whilst we
reiterated our signal of peace; but the garrison, regardless of it,
continued their discharges, and we had the grief to see fall, by our
sides, several of the people, whose hands we had stopped. The courage of
the rest, again inflamed by indignation, pushed them forward.—Our
remonstrances, our prayers, had no longer any effect; and they declared,
that it was not a deputation they now wished for.—It was the siege of
the Bastille—the destruction of that horrible prison—the death of the
governor, that they demanded, with loud cries. Repulsed by these brave
citizens, we partook their momentary indignation, so fully justified by
the abominable act of perfidy, with which they charged the
governor.—They then repeated to us the information which has already
reached you—that in the morning a crowd having approached the Bastille
to demand arms, the governor had allowed a certain number to enter, and
then had fired upon them. Thus the treason of the governor had been the
first signal of a war, that he himself had begun with his fellow
citizens, and seemed willing to continue obstinately, since he refused
to attend to the deputation. Through all parts it was now
resounded.—‘Let us take the Bastille!’—And five pieces of cannon,
conducted by this cry, were hastening to the action.
Some time after, the third deputation also came back, and recounted,
that, at the sight of their white flag, one had been hoisted on the top
of the Bastille, and the soldiers had grounded their arms;—that, under
the auspices of these ensigns of peace, the deputies had engaged the
people, in the name of the permanent committee, to retire to their
districts, and take the measures the most proper to re-establish
tranquillity—and, that this retreat was actually taking place; the
people all naturally passing through the court where the deputation
remained.—When, notwithstanding the white emblem of a pacific
disposition, displayed on the tower, the deputies saw a piece of cannon
planted directly at the court, and they received a sudden discharge of
musketry, which killed three persons at their feet—that this atrocity,
at the moment they were calming the people, had thrown them into a
transport of rage; and many of them had even held their bayonets at the
breasts of the deputies; saying, ‘you are also traitors, and have
brought us here that we might be more easily killed’—and it would have
been difficult to calm them, is one of the deputies had not bid them
observe, that they shared the same danger. The effervescence then
abating, they hastened back and met 300 of the french guards, followed
by the cannons taken at the invalids, all marching with a quick step,
crying that they were going to take the Bastille. One of the deputies,
who had been separated from the rest, further recited;—that having been
obliged to scramble over the dead and dying to escape, the people, who
recognized him as an elector, desired him to save himself—for that the
treason was manifest. ‘It is rather you, my friends, he replied, who
ought to retire; you who hinder our soldiers and cannons from entering
this encumbered court, where you are all going to perish, for no
purpose.’ But, that they interrupted him in a transport,
exclaiming—‘No!—No! our dead bodies will serve to fill up the trench.’
He therefore retired with the balls hissing about his ears. These
recitals, and the rumour of the second act of treachery, spreading
through the city, violently agitated minds already alive to suspicion.
Fresh crowds continually rushed into the _hôtel-de-ville_, and again
they threatened to set fire to it, repeating how many times the mayor
had deceived them. And, when he attempted to calm them by making
plausible excuses, they stopped his mouth by saying, with one voice,—‘he
seeks to gain time by making us lose our’s.’ Two intercepted billets
also having been read aloud, addressed to the principal officers of the
Bastille, desiring them to stand out, and promising succour; increased
the public fury, principally directed against the governor of the
Bastille, the mayor, and even the permanent committee.—Outcry followed
outcry, and naked arms were held up denouncing vengeance—when an old man
exclaimed, my friends, what do we here with these traitors!—Let us march
to the Bastille! at this cry, as at a signal of victory, all the people
hastily left the hall, and the committee unexpectedly found themselves
alone.
In this moment of solitude and terrour, a man entered with affright
visible on every feature, saying, that the square trembled with the rage
of the people; and that they had devoted all of them to death.—‘Depart!’
he exclaimed, running out, ‘save yourselves while you can—or you are all
lost!’ But they remained still; and were not long permitted in silence
to anticipate the approach of danger; for one party of people following
another, brought in a number of their wounded companions:—and those who
brought them, described with passion the carnage of the citizens
sacrificed under the ramparts of the Bastille. This carnage, the
military officers attributed to the disorder of the attack, and to the
intrepidity of the assailants still greater than the disorder.
The accounts of the slaughter, nevertheless, were certainly very much
exaggerated; for the fortress appears to have been taken by the force of
mind of the multitude, pressing forward regardless of danger. The ardour
of the besiegers, rather than their numbers, threw the garrison into
confusion; for the Bastille was justly reckoned the strongest and most
terrific prison in Europe, or perhaps in the world. It was always
guarded by a considerable number of troops, and the governor had been
previously prepared for it’s defence; but the unexpected impetuosity of
the parisians was such as nothing could withstand. It is certain, that
Delaunay, at first, despised the attempt of the people; and was more
anxious to save from injury or pillage, a small elegant house he had
built in the outer court, than to avoid slaughter. Afterwards, however,
in the madness of despair, he is said to have rolled down large masses
of stone from the platform on the heads of the people, to have
endeavoured to blow up the fortress, and even to kill himself. The
french guards, it is true, who mixed with the multitude, were of
essential service in storming the Bastille, by advising them to bring
the cannon, and take some other measures, that only military experience
could have dictated; but the enthusiasm of the moment rendered a
knowledge of the art of war needless; and resolution, more powerful than
all the engines and batteries in the world, made the draw-bridges fall,
and the walls give way.
Whilst then the people were carrying every thing before them, the
committee only thought of preventing the further effusion of blood.
Another deputation was therefore nominated, more numerous than had
hitherto been sent; and they were just setting out on this errand of
peace, when some voices announced, that the Bastille was taken. Little
attention, however, was paid them; and the news was so improbable, that
the impression made by the rumour was not sufficiently strong to stop
the outrages of the mob, who still were menacing the mayor and the
committee.—When a fresh uproar, heard at first at such a distance that
it could not be distinguished, whether it were a cry of victory or of
alarm, advancing with the crash and rapidity of a tempest, came to
confirm the unlooked for intelligence.—For the Bastille was taken!
At the instant even the great hall was inundated by a crowd of all
ranks, carrying arms of every kind.—The tumult was inexpressible—and to
increase it, some one called out, that the hotel was giving way, under
the mingled shout of victory and treason! vengeance and liberty!—About
thirty invalids and swiss soldiers were then dragged into the hall,
whose death the multitude imperiously demanded.—Hang them! Hang them!
was the universal roar.
An officer of the queen’s regiment of guards (M. Elie) was brought in on
the shoulders of the conquerors of the Bastille, and proclaimed by them,
as the first of the citizens, who had just made themselves masters of
it. The efforts he used to repress the testimonies of honour, which were
lavished on him, were of no avail; and he was placed, in spite of his
modesty, on a table opposite the committee, and surrounded by the
prisoners, who seemed to be standing in fearful expectation of their
doom. In this situation he was crowned, and trophies of arms awkwardly
placed around, to which sentiment and circumstances gave dignity. All
the plate taken at the Bastille was brought to him, and his comrades
pressed him, in the most earnest manner, to accept it, as the richest
spoil of the vanquished enemy. But he refused with firmness, explaining
the motives of his refusal so eloquently, he persuaded all who heard
him, that the spoil did not belong to them; and that patriotism, jealous
only of glory and honour, would blush at receiving a pecuniary
recompense.—And, making a noble use of the ascendency which he had over
the people, he began to recommend moderation and clemency.—But he was
soon interrupted by the account of the death of Delaunay; seized in the
court of the Bastille, and dragged by the furious populace almost to the
_hôtel-de-ville_, before he was massacred.—And soon after the death of
three other officers was reported.
The prisoners listened to these tales with the countenances of victims
ready to be sacrificed, whilst the exasperated crowd demanded their
instant execution. One of the electors spoke in their favour, but was
scarcely permitted to go on. The people, indeed, were principally
enraged against three of the invalids, whom they accused of being the
cannoneers, that had fired so briskly on the citizens. One of them was
wounded, and consequently inspired more compassion. The marquis de la
Salle placed himself before this poor wretch, and forcing, in some
degree, the people to hear him, he insisted on the authority which he
ought to have as commander in chief; adding, that he only wished to
secure the culprits, that they might be judged with all the rigour of
martial law. The people seemed to approve of his reasoning; and taking
advantage of this favourable turn, he made the wounded invalid pass into
another apartment.—But, whilst he was preserving the life of this
unfortunate man, the mob hurried the other two out of the hall, and
immediately hung them on the adjacent lamp-post[18]. The effervescence,
nevertheless, in spite of this overflowing of fury, still continued, and
was not even damped by these cruel acts of retaliation. Two sentiments
agitated the public mind—the joy of having conquered, and the desire of
vengeance. Confused denunciations of treason resounded on all sides, and
each individual was eager to show his sagacity in discovering a plot, or
substituted suspicion instead of conviction with equal obstinacy. The
mayor, however, had given sufficient proofs of his disposition to
support the court, to justify the rage which was breaking out against
him; and a general cry having been raised around him, that it was
necessary for him to go to the _palais royal_, to be tried by his fellow
citizens, he agreed to accompany the people.
Mean time the clamour against the rest of the invalids redoubled. But
the french guards, who entered in groups, requested as a recompense for
the service which they had rendered to their country the pardon of their
old comrades; and M. Elie joined in the request; adding, that this
favour would be more grateful to his heart, than all the gifts and
honours which they wished to lavish on him. Touched by his eloquence,
some cried out—Pardon! and the same emotion spreading throughout the
circle—Pardon! Pardon! succeeded the ferocious demand of vengeance,
which had hitherto stifled sympathy. And to assure their safety, M. Elie
proposed making the prisoners take an oath of fidelity to the nation and
the city of Paris: and this proposition was received with testimonies of
general satisfaction. The oath being administered, the french guards
surrounded the prisoners and carried them away, in the midst of them,
without meeting with any resistance.
The committee now endeavoured to re-establish something like order, for
in the tumult the table had been broken down, and destruction menaced on
every side—when a man entered to inform them, that an unknown, but,
indeed, a merciful hand had shot the mayor, and thus by the only
possible mean snatched him from the popular fury, The whole tenour of
his conduct, in fact, justified the charge brought against him, and
rendered at least this effect of public indignation excusable.—So
excusable, that had not the passions of the people, exasperated by
designing men, afterwards been directed to the commission of the most
barbarous atrocities, the vengeance of this day could hardly be cited as
acts of injustice or inhumanity.
The Bastille was taken about four o’clock in the afternoon; and after
the struggle to save the prisoners, some necessary regulations were
proposed, to secure the public safety. The conduct of the men in office
had so irritated the people, that the cry against aristocrats was now
raised; and a number of persons of distinction were brought to the
_hôtel-de-ville_ this evening, by the restless populace, who, roving
about the streets, seemed to create some of the adventures, which were
necessary to employ their awakened spirit. Breathless with victory,
they, for the moment, gave a loose to joy; but the sounds of exultation
dying away with the day, night brought back all their former
apprehensions; and they listened with fresh affright to the report, that
a detachment of troops was preparing to enter one of the barriers. Not,
therefore, allowing themselves to sleep on their conquering arms, this
was, likewise, a watchful night; for the taking of the Bastille, though
it was a proof of the courage and resolution of the parisians, by no
means secured them against the insidious schemes of the court. They had
shown their determination to resist oppression very forcibly; but the
troops that excited their resistance were still apparently waiting for
an opportunity to destroy them. Every citizen then hurried to his post,
for their very success made them the more alive to fear. The _tocsin_
was again rung, and the cannon that had forced the Bastille to surrender
dragged hastily to the place of alarm. The pavement of the adjacent
streets was torn up, with astonishing quickness, and carried to the tops
of the houses; where the women, who were equally animated, stood
prepared to hurl them down on the soldiers.—All Paris, in short, was
awake; and this vigilance either frustrated the designs of the cabal, or
intimidated the hostile force, which never appeared to have entered with
earnestness into it’s measures. For it is probable, that some decisive
stroke had been concerted; but that the officers, who expected by their
presence only to have terrified into obedience the citizens, whose
courage, on the contrary, they roused, were rendered irresolute by the
disaffection of the soldiers. Thus was the nation saved by the almost
incredible exertion of an indignant people; who felt, for the first
time, that they were sovereign, and that their power was commensurate to
their will. This was certainly a splendid example, to prove, that
nothing can resist a people determined to live free; and then it
appeared clear, that the freedom of France did not depend on a few men,
whatever might be their virtues or abilities, but alone on the will of
the nation.
During this day, while the parisians were so active for it’s safety, the
national assembly was employed in forming a committee, to be charged
with digesting the plan of a constitution, for the deliberation of the
whole body: to secure the rights of the people on the eternal principles
of reason and justice; and thereby to guarantee the national dignity and
respectability. Towards the evening, the uncertainty of what was passing
at Paris, the mysterious conduct of the cabinet, the presence of the
troops at Versailles, the substantiated facts, and the suspected
proscriptions, gave to this sitting the involuntary emotions, that must
naturally be produced by the approach of a catastrophe, which was to
decide the salvation or destruction of a state. Mirabeau, firm to his
point, showed the necessity of insisting on the sending away the troops
without delay; and soon after the viscount de Noailles, arriving from
Paris, informed them, that the arms had been taken from the _hôtel des
invalides_; and that the Bastille was actually besieged. The first
impulse was for them to go altogether, and endeavour to open the king’s
eyes; but, after some reflection, a numerous deputation was
nominated;—to insist on the removal of the troops; and to speak to his
majesty with that energetic frankness, so much more necessary as he was
deceived by every person by whom he was surrounded. Whilst they were
absent, two persons, sent by the electors of Paris, informed the
assembly of the taking of the Bastille, and the other events of the day;
which were repeated to them, when they returned with the king’s vague
answer.
A second deputation was then immediately sent, to inform him of these
circumstances:—To which he replied—‘You more and more distress my heart,
by the recitals you bring me of the miseries of Paris. But I cannot
believe, that the orders which I have given to the troops, is the cause
of them: I have, therefore, nothing to add to the answer that you have
already received from me.’
This reply tended to increase the general alarm; and they determined
again to prolong the sitting all night; either to be ready to receive
the enemy in their sacred function, or to make a last effort near the
throne to succour the metropolis. Nothing could surpass the anxious
suspense of this situation; for the most resolute of the deputies were
uneasy respecting their fate, because their personal safety was
connected with the salvation of France. Their nocturnal conversation
naturally turned on the late events that had taken place at Paris; the
commotions in the provinces; and the horrours of famine, ready to
consume those whom a civil war spared. The old men sought for an hour of
repose upon the tables and carpets; the sick rested on the benches.—All
saw the sword suspended over them, and over their country—and all feared
a morrow still more dreadful.
Impressed by their situation, and the danger of the state, one of the
deputies (the duke de Liancourt) left his post, and sought a private
audience with the king, with whom he warmly expostulated, pointing out
the critical situation of the kingdom; and even of the royal family,
should his majesty persist to support the present measures. Monsieur,
the king’s eldest brother, and not only the most honest, but the most
sensible of the blood royal, immediately coincided with the duke,
silencing the rest of the cabal. They had at first treated with contempt
the intelligence received of the Bastille’s being taken; and now were so
stunned by the confirmation, that, at a loss how to direct the king,
they left him to follow the counsel of whoever dared to advise him.—And
he, either convinced, or persuaded, determined to extricate himself out
of the present difficulties, by yielding to necessity.
On the morning of the 15th, the national assembly, not informed of this
circumstance, resolved to send another remonstrance to the king;—and
Mirabeau, giving a sketch of the address, drew a rapid and lively
picture of the exigencies of the moment. ‘Tell him,’ said he, ‘that the
hordes of foreigners, by whom we are besieged, have yesterday been
visited by the princes and princesses, their favourites, and their
minions, who, lavishing on them caresses and presents, exhorted them to
perseverance—tell him, that the whole night these foreign satellites,
gorged with gold and wine, have, in their impious camp, predicted the
subjugation of France, and, that they invoked, with brutal vehemence,
the destruction of the national assembly—tell him, that, even in his own
palace, the courtiers have mingled in the dance to the sound of this
barbarous music—and, tell him, that such was the scene, which announced
St. Bartholomew.
‘Tell him, that the Henry, whose memory the world blesses, the ancestor,
whom he ought to wish to take for a model, allowed provision to pass
into Paris in a state of revolt, when he was in person besieging it;
whilst his ferocious counsellors are turning back the flour, that the
course of commerce was bringing to his faithful and famished city.’
The deputation left the hall; but was stopped by the duke de Liancourt;
who informed them, that the king was then coming to restore them to
tranquillity and peace. Every heart was relieved by this intelligence;
and a cynic, probably, would have found less dignity in the joy, than
the grief of the assembly. A deputy, however, moderated these first
emotions, by observing, that those transports formed a shocking contrast
with the distress which the people had already endured.—He added, ‘that
a respectful silence was the proper reception of a monarch during a
moment of public sorrow: for the silence of the people is the only
lesson of kings.’
Shortly after, the king appeared in the assembly, standing uncovered;
and without any attention to ceremony. He addressed the representatives
of the people with artful affection: for as it is impossible to avoid
comparing his present affectionate style, with the cold contempt with
which he answered their repeated remonstrances the preceding evening, it
is not judging harshly to despise the affectation, and to suggest, that
it was dictated rather by selfish prudence than by a sense of justice,
or a feeling of humanity. He lamented the disorder that reigned in the
capital, and requested them to think of some method to bring back order
and tranquillity. He alluded to the report, that the personal safety of
the deputies had been menaced; and, with contemptible duplicity asked,
if his well-known character did not give the lie to such a
rumour.—Reckoning then, he concluded, on the love and fidelity of his
subjects, he had given orders to the troops to repair to more distant
quarters—and he authorized, nay, invited them, to make known his
intentions to the metropolis.
This speech was interrupted and followed by the most lively expression
of applause; though the sagacity of a number of the deputies could not
possibly have been clouded by their sympathy: and the king returning to
the palace on foot, great part of the assembly escorted him, joined by a
concourse of people, who rent the air with their benedictions. The
declaration of Louis, that, trusting to the representatives of the
people, he had ordered the troops to withdraw from Versailles, being
spread abroad, every person, feeling relieved from the oppression of
fear, and unshackled from the fetters of despotism, threw off care; and
the national assembly immediately appointed eighty-four of it’s most
respectable members, to convey to Paris the glad intelligence; that the
harrassed parisians might participate in the joy they had procured the
assembly, by the most noble exertions.
Arrived at Paris, they were received with enthusiasm, as the saviours of
their country; and saw there more than a hundred thousand men in arms,
formed into companies; showing the superiority of a nation rising in
it’s own defence, compared with the mercenary machines of tyranny. The
transports of the people, and the sympathy of the deputies, must have
formed a highly interesting scene: success elevating the heart for the
moment, and hope gilding the future prospect.—But the imagination would
languidly pourtray this dazzling sunshine, depressed by the recollection
of the sinister events, that have since clouded the bright beams.
Precluded then by melancholy reflections from rejoicing with the happy
throng, it is necessary to turn our attention to the circumstances, from
which mankind may draw instruction:—and the first that present
themselves to our notice are those which disconcerted the flagitious
plan of the ministry;—the regulations that preserved order in the
metropolis;—the astonishing reduction of the Bastille;—the union of the
french guards with the citizens;—the prompt establishment of a city
militia;—and, in short, the behaviour of the people, who showed neither
a thirst for pillage, nor a fondness for tumult.
The court by their criminal enterprises had entirely disorded the
political machines, that sustained the old worn out government[19];
which, worm-eaten in all it’s pillars, and rotten in all it’s joints,
fell at the first shock—never to rise again. The destruction of the
Bastille—that fortress of tyranny! which for two centuries had been the
shame and terrour of the metropolis[20], was the sentence of death of
the old constitution.
The junction of the three orders in fact securing the power of the
national assembly, and making the court appear a cipher, could not fail
to prove sorely mortifying to it’s old minions; and the success of the
people on the 14th of july proclaiming their supremacy, the courtiers,
resorting to their old arts, suggested to the king a line of conduct the
most plausible and flattering to the inconsiderate partizans of a
revolution; whilst it betrayed to the more discerning a dissimulation as
palpable as the motives of the advisers were flagrantly interested. For
their views being narrowed by the depravity of their character, they
imagined, that his apparent acquiescence, exciting the admiration and
affection of the nation, would be the surest mode of procuring him that
consequence in the government, which ultimately might tend to overthrow
what they termed an upstart legislature; and, by the appropriation of
chances, reinstate the tyranny of unlimited monarchy.
This serious farce commenced previous to that memorable epocha; and in
marking the prominent features of the events that led to the disasters,
which have sullied the glory of the revolution, it is impossible to keep
too near in view the arts of the acting parties; and the credulity and
enthusiasm of the people, who, invariably directing their attention to
the same point, have always been governed in their sentiments of men by
the most popular anarchists. For this is the only way to form a just
opinion of the various changes of men, who, supplanting each other, with
such astonishing rapidity, have produced the most fatal calamities.
The cabinet, indeed, the better to disguise their secret machinations,
made the king declare, the 23d of june, that ‘he annulled and dissolved
all powers and restrictions, which by cramping the liberty of the
deputies would hinder them either from adopting the form of deliberation
by orders separately, or in common, by the distinct voice of the three
orders,’ absolutely gave his sanction for constituting the national
assembly one and indivisible.—And in the same declaration, article the
6th, he says, ‘that he will not suffer the _cahiers_, or mandates, to be
regarded as dictatorial; for they were only to be considered as simple
instructions, entrusted to the conscience and free opinion of the
deputies, who have been chosen.’ This was giving them unbounded latitude
for their actions.—This was not only a tacit consent to their
proceedings; but it was granting them all his authority to frame a
constitution.—It was legalizing their actions, even according to the
arbitrary rules of the old despotism; and abrogating in a formal manner
that imaginary authority, the sanction of which, at a former period,
would have been necessary to their existence as representatives of the
people.—But happily that period had passed away; and those men, who had
known no rule of action paramount to the commands of their sovereign,
were now sufficiently enlightened, to demand a restitution of their
long-estranged rights;—and a constitution, upon which they could
consolidate their liberty and national fraternity.
This imperious demand was irresistible; and the cabinet, unable to check
the current of opinion, had recourse to those stratagems, which, leading
to their ruin, has buried in the wreck all that vain grandeur elevated
on the spoil of industry, whilst it’s gilding obscured the sad objects
of misery that pined under it’s shade. Lively sanguine minds, disgusted
with the vices and artificial manners produced by the great inequality
of conditions in France, naturally hailed the dawn of a new day, when
the Bastille was destroyed; and freedom, like a lion roused from his
lair, rose with dignity, and calmly shook herself.—With delight they
marked her noble pace, without ever supposing that the tiger, who
thirsts for blood, and the whole brutal herd, must necessarily unite
against her.—Yet this has been the case; the dogs of war have been let
loose, and corruption has swarmed with noxious life.—But let not the
coldly wise exult, that their heads were not led astray by their hearts;
or imagine, that the improvement of the times does not betoken a change
of government, gradually taking place to meliorate the fate of man; for,
in spite of the perverse conduct of beings spoilt by the old system, the
preponderancy of truth has rendered principles in some respects
triumphant over men; and instruments of mischief have wondered at the
good which they have unwittingly produced.