troops to march against the capital, put a stop for the present to the
projects of the Court. In the mean time the populace had assembled at
the Hotel de Ville, and loudly demanded the sounding of the tocsin and
the arming of the citizens. Several highly respectable individuals also
met here, and did much good in repressing a spirit of violence and
mischief. They could not, however, effect everything. A number of
disorderly people and of workmen out of employ, without food or place of
abode, set fire to the barriers, infested the streets, and pillaged
several houses in the night between the 12th and 13th.
The departure of Necker, which had excited such a sensation in the
capital, produced as deep an impression at Versailles and on the
Assembly, who manifested surprise and indignation, but not dejection.
Lally Tollendal pronounced a formal eulogium on the exiled minister.
After one or two displays of theatrical vehemence, which is inseparable
from French enthusiasm and eloquence, they despatched a deputation to
the King, informing him of the situation and troubles of Paris, and
praying him to dismiss the troops and intrust the defence of the capital
to the city militia. The deputation received an answer which amounted to
a repulse. The Assembly now perceived that the designs of the Court
party were irrevocably fixed, and that it had only itself to rely upon.
It instantly voted the responsibility of the ministers and of all the
advisers of the Crown, "of whatsoever rank or degree."
This last clause was pointed at the Queen, whose influence was greatly
dreaded. They then, from an apprehension that the doors might be closed
during the night in order to dissolve the Assembly, declared their
sittings permanent. A vice-president was chosen, to lessen the fatigue
of the Archbishop of Vienne. The choice fell upon Lafayette. In this
manner a part of the Assembly sat up all night. It passed without
deliberation, the deputies remaining on their seats, silent, but calm
and serene. What thoughts must have revolved through the minds of those
present on this occasion! Patriotism and philosophy had here taken up
their sanctuary. If we consider their situation; the hopes that filled
their breasts; the trials they had to encounter; the future destiny of
their country, of the world, which hung on their decision as in a
balance; the bitter wrongs they were about to sweep away; the good they
had it in their power to accomplish--the countenances of the Assembly
must have been majestic, and radiant with the light that through them
was about to dawn on ages yet unborn. They might foresee a struggle, the
last convulsive efforts of pride and power to keep the world in its
wonted subjection--but that was nothing--their final triumph over all
opposition was assured in the eternal principles of justice and in their
own unshaken devotedness to the great cause of mankind! If the result
did not altogether correspond to the intentions of those firm and
enlightened patriots who so nobly planned it, the fault was not in them,
but in others.
At Paris the insurrection had taken a more decided turn. Early in the
morning the people assembled in large bodies at the Hotel de Ville; the
tocsin sounded from all the churches; the drums beat to summon the
citizens together, who formed themselves into different bands of
volunteers. All that they wanted was arms. These, except a few at the
gunsmiths' shops, were not to be had. They then applied to M. de
Flesselles, a provost of the city, who amused them with fair words. "My
children," he said, "I am your father!" This paternal style seems to
have been the order of the day. A committee sat at the Hotel de Ville to
take measures for the public safety. Meanwhile a granary had been broken
open: the Garde-Meuble had been ransacked for old arms; the armorers'
shops were plundered; all was a scene of confusion, and the utmost
dismay everywhere prevailed. But no private mischief was done. It was a
moment of popular frenzy, but one in which the public danger and the
public good overruled every other consideration. The grain which had
been seized, the carts loaded with provisions, with plate or furniture,
and stopped at the barriers, were all taken to the Greve as a public
depot.
The crowd incessantly repeated the cry for arms, and were pacified by an
assurance that thirty thousand muskets would speedily arrive from
Charleville. The Duc d'Aumont was invited to take the command of the
popular troops; and on hesitating, the Marquis of Salle was nominated in
his stead. The green cockade was exchanged for one of red and blue, the
colors of the city. A quantity of powder was discovered, as it was
about to be conveyed beyond the barriers; and the cases of fire-arms
promised from Charleville turned out, on inspection, to be filled with
old rags and logs of wood. The rage and impatience of the multitude now
became extreme. Such perverse, trifling, and barefaced duplicity would
be unaccountable anywhere else; but in France they pay with promises;
and the provost, availing himself of the credulity of his audience,
promised them still more arms at the Chartreux. To prevent a repetition
of the excesses of the mob, Paris was illuminated at night and a patrol
paraded the streets.
The following day, the people being deceived as to the convoy of arms
that was to arrive from Charleville, and having been equally
disappointed in those at the Chartreux, broke into the Hospital of
Invalids, in spite of the troops stationed in the neighborhood, and
carried off a prodigious number of stands of arms concealed in the
cellars. An alarm had been spread in the night that the regiment
quartered at St. Denis was on its way to Paris, and that the cannon of
the Bastille had been pointed in the direction of the street of St.
Antoine. This information, the dread which this fortress inspired, the
recollection of the horrors which had been perpetrated there, its very
name, which appalled all hearts and made the blood run cold, the
necessity of wresting it from the hands of its old and feeble
possessors, drew the attention of the multitude to this hated spot. From
nine in the morning of the memorable July 14th, till two, Paris from one
end to the other rang with the same watchword: "To the Bastille! To the
Bastille!" The inhabitants poured there in throngs from all quarters,
armed with different weapons; the crowd that already surrounded it was
considerable; the sentinels were at their posts, and the drawbridges
raised as in war-time.
A deputy from the district of St. Louis de la Culture, Thuriot de la
Rosiere, then asked to speak with the governor, M. Delaunay. Being
admitted into his presence, he required that the direction of the cannon
should be changed. Three guns were pointed against the entrance, though
the governor pretended that everything remained in the state in which it
had always been. About forty Swiss and eighty Invalids garrisoned the
place, from whom he obtained a promise not to fire on the people unless
they were themselves attacked. His companions began to be uneasy and
called loudly for him. To satisfy them, he showed himself on the
ramparts, from whence he could see an immense multitude flocking from
all parts, and the Faubourg St. Antoine advancing as it were in a mass.
He then returned to his friends and gave them what tidings he had
collected.
But the crowd, not satisfied, demanded the surrender of the fortress.
From time to time the angry cry was repeated: "Down with the Bastille!"
Two men, more determined than the rest, pressed forward, attacked a
guard-house, and attempted to break down the chains of the bridge with
the blows of an axe. The soldiers called out to them to fall back,
threatening to fire if they did not. But they repeated their blows,
shattered the chains, and lowered the drawbridge, over which they rushed
with the crowd. They threw themselves upon the second bridge, in the
hopes of making themselves masters of it in the same manner, when the
garrison fired and dispersed them for a few minutes. They soon, however,
returned to the charge; and for several hours, during a murderous
discharge of musketry, and amid heaps of the wounded and dying, renewed
the attack with unabated courage and obstinacy, led on by two brave men,
Elie and Hulia, their rage and desperation being inflamed to a pitch of
madness by the scene of havoc around them. Several deputations arrived
from the Hotel de Ville to offer terms of accommodation; but in the
noise and fury of the moment they could not make themselves heard, and
the storming continued as before.
The assault had been carried on in this manner with inextinguishable
rage and great loss of blood to the besiegers, though with little
progress made, for above four hours, when the arrival of the French
Guards with cannon altered the face of things. The garrison urged the
governor to surrender. The wretched Delaunay, dreading the fate which
awaited him, wanted to blow up the place and bury himself under the
ruins, and was advancing for this purpose with a lighted match in his
hand toward the powder-magazine, but was prevented by the soldiers, who
planted the white flag on the platform, and reversed their arms in token
of submission. This was not enough for those without. They demanded with
loud and reiterated cries to have the drawbridges let down; and on an
assurance being given that no harm was intended, the bridges were
lowered and the assailants tumultuously rushed in. The endeavors of
their leaders could not save the governor or a number of the soldiers,
who were seized on by the infuriated multitude, and put to death for
having fired on their fellow-citizens.
Thus fell the Bastille; and the shout that accompanied its downfall was
echoed through Europe, and men rejoiced that "the grass grew where the
Bastille stood!" Earth was lightened of a load that oppressed it, nor
did this ghastly object any longer startle the sight, like an ugly
spider lying in wait for its accustomed prey, and brooding in sullen
silence over the wrongs which it had the will, though not the power, to
inflict.
[The Bastille was taken about a quarter before six o'clock
in the evening (Tuesday, July 14th), after a four-hours'
attack. Only one cannon was fired from the fortress, and
only one person was killed among the besieged. The garrison
consisted of 82 Invalids, 2 cannoneers, and 32 Swiss. Of the
assailants, 83 were killed on the spot, 60 were wounded, of
whom 15 died of their wounds, and 13 were disabled. A great
many barrels of gunpowder had been conveyed here from the
arsenal, in the night between the 12th and 13th. Delaunay,
the governor, was killed on the steps of the Hotel de Ville,
as also Delosme, the mayor. Only seven prisoners were found
in the Bastille; four of these, Pujade, Bechade, La Roche,
and La Caurege, were for forgery. M. de Solages was put in
in 1782, at the desire of his father, since which time every
communication from without was carefully withheld from him.
He did not know the smallest event that had taken place in
all that time, and was told by the turnkey, when he heard
the firing of the cannon, that it was owing to a riot about
the price of bread. M. Tavernier, a bastard son of Paris
Duverney, had been confined ever since August 4, 1759. The
last prisoner was a Mr. White, who went mad, and it could
never be discovered who or what he was: by the name he must
have been English.
When Lord Albemarle was ambassador at Paris, in the year
1753, he by mere accident caught a sight of the list of
persons confined in the Bastille, lying on the table of the
French minister, with the name of Gordon at their head.
Being struck with the circumstance, he inquired into the
meaning of it; but the French minister could give no account
of it; and on the prisoner himself being released and sent
for, he could only state that he had been confined there
thirty years, but had not the slightest knowledge or
suspicion of the cause for which he had been arrested. Nor
is this wonderful, when we consider that _lettres de cachet_
were sold, with blanks left for the names to be filled up at
the pleasure or malice of the purchasers.
If it was only to prevent the recurrence of one such
instance (with the feeling in society at once shrinking from
and tamely acquiescing in it), the Revolution was well
purchased. When the crowd gained possession of this
loathsome spot, they eagerly poured into every corner and
turning of it, went down into the lowest dungeons with a
breathless curiosity and horror, knocking with
sledge-hammers at their triple portals, and breaking down
and destroying everything in their way. The stones and
devices on the battlements were torn off and thrown into the
ditch, and the papers and documents were at the same time
unfortunately destroyed.
A low range of dungeons was discovered underground, close to
the moat; and so contrived that, if those within had forced
a passage through, they would have let in the water of the
ditch and been suffocated. In one of these a skeleton was
found hanging to an iron cramp in the wall. In reading the
accounts of the demolition of this building, one feels that
indignation should have melted the stone walls like flax,
and that the dungeons should have given up their dead to
assist the living!
The Bastille was begun in 1370, in Charles V's time, by one
Hugh Abriot, provost of the city, who was afterward shut up
in it in 1381. It at first consisted only of two towers: two
more were added by Charles VI, and four more in 1383. Two
days after it was taken, it was ordered by the National
Assembly to be razed to the ground, and in May, 1790, not a
trace of it was left.--ED.]
The stormers of the Bastille arrived at the Place de la Greve, rending
the air with shouts of victory. They marched on to the great hall of the
Hotel de Ville, in all the terrific and unusual pomp of a popular
triumph. Such of them as had displayed most courage and ardor were borne
on the shoulders of the rest, crowned with laurel. They were escorted up
the hall by near two thousand of the populace, their eyes flaming, their
hair in wild disorder, variously accoutred, pressing tumultuously on
each other, and making the heavy floors almost crack beneath their
footsteps. One bore the keys and flag of the Bastille, another the
regulations of the prison brandished on the point of a bayonet; a
third--a thing horrible to relate!--held in his bloody fingers the
buckle of the governor's stock. In this order it was that they entered
the Hotel de Ville to announce their victory to the Committee, and to
decide on the fate of their remaining prisoners, who, in spite of the
impatient cries to give no quarter, were rescued by the exertions of the
commandant La Salle, Moreau de St. Mery, and the intrepid Elie.
Then came the turn of the despicable Flesselles, that caricature of
vapid, frothy impertinence, who thought he could baffle the roaring
tiger with grimace and shallow excuses. "To the Palais-Royal with him!"
was the word; and he answered with callous indifference, "Well, to the
Palais-Royal if you will." He was hemmed in by the crowd and borne along
without any violence being offered him to the place of destination; but
at the corner of the Quai le Pelletier an unknown hand approached him
and stretched him lifeless on the spot with a pistol-shot. During the
night succeeding this eventful day Paris was in the greatest agitation,
hourly expecting, in consequence of the statements of intercepted
letters, an attack from the troops. Every preparation was made to defend
the city. Barricades were formed, the streets unpaved, pikes forged, the
women piled stones on the tops of houses to hurl them down on the heads
of the soldiers, and the National Guard occupied the outposts.
While all this was passing, and before it became known at Versailles,
the Court was preparing to carry into effect its designs against the
Assembly and the capital. The night between the 14th and 15th was fixed
upon for their execution. The new minister, Breteuil, had promised to
reestablish the royal authority within three days. Marshal Broglie, who
commanded the army round Paris, was invested with unlimited powers. The
Assembly, it was agreed upon, were to be dissolved, and forty thousand
copies of a proclamation to this effect were ready to be circulated
throughout the kingdom. The rising of the populace was supposed to be a
temporary evil, and it was thought to the last moment an impossibility
that a mob of citizens should resist an army. The Assembly was duly
apprised of all these projects. It sat for two days in a state of
constant inquietude and alarm. The news from Paris was doubtful. A
firing of cannon was supposed to be heard, and persons anxiously placed
their ears to the ground to listen. The escape of the King was also
expected, as a carriage had been kept in readiness, and the bodyguard
had not pulled off their boots for several days.
In the orangery belonging to the palace, meat and wine had been
distributed among the foreign troops to encourage and spirit them up.
The Viscount of Noailles and another deputy, Wimpfen, brought word of
the latest events in the capital, and of the increasing violence of the
people. Couriers were despatched every half-hour to gather intelligence.
Deputations waited on the King to lay before him the progress of the
insurrection, but he still gave evasive and unsatisfactory answers. In
the night of the 14th the Duke of Liancourt had informed Louis XVI of
the taking of the Bastille and the massacre of the garrison on the
preceding day. "It is a revolt!" exclaimed the monarch, taken by
surprise. "No, sire, it is a revolution," was the answer.
FOOTNOTES:
[33] Edmund Burke passed a splendid and well-known eulogium on the
beauty and accomplishments of the Queen, and it was in part the
impression which her youthful charms had left in his mind that threw the
casting-weight of his talents and eloquence into the scale of opposition
to the French Revolution. I have heard another very competent judge, Mr.
Northcote, describe her entering a small anteroom, where he stood, with
her large hoop sideways, and gliding by him from one end to the other
with a grace and lightness as if borne on a cloud. It was possibly to
"this air with which she trod or rather disdained the earth," as if
descended from some higher sphere, that she owed the indignity of being
conducted to a scaffold. Personal grace and beauty cannot save their
possessors from the fury of the multitude, more than from the raging
elements, though they may inspire that pride and self-opinion which
expose them to it.
[34] It was observed that almost all the greatest cruelties of the Reign
of Terror were resolved on by committees of persons who had been in the
immediate employment of the great, and had suffered by their caprice and
insolence.
ESTABLISHMENT OF THE UNITED STATES BANK
A.D. 1791
ALEXANDER HAMILTON AND LAWRENCE LEWIS, JR.
Through the founding of the first Bank of the United States,
which existed from 1791 to 1811, and was succeeded by
another national bank in 1817, the monetary affairs of the
Republic, under Hamilton's able administration, were placed
upon a sounder basis, and the transaction of public business
was greatly facilitated.
During the seventeenth century Indian money (wampum) was
much used by the colonists, especially in their trade with
the Indians. For a long time it was a legal tender in common
with other currencies. The earliest American coinage is said
to date from 1612. In Massachusetts, the "pine-tree"
money--silver coins bearing the emblem of a pine-tree--was
used from 1652 to 1686. Soon began the issue of various
paper moneys in the colonies, and the establishment of banks
under the colonial governments. The "Continental currency"
of the Revolution, first issued in 1775 by authority of the
Continental Congress, began to depreciate almost as soon as
it appeared, and in 1780 ceased to circulate.
In 1780 the Pennsylvania Bank, in Philadelphia, began to
assist the Government, and rendered useful service until
1784. But the need of a national bank had already become
evident. Robert Morris, Superintendent of Finance for the
United States, secured the organization, at Philadelphia, of
the Bank of North America, with a capital of four hundred
thousand dollars. It was incorporated by Congress in
December, 1781, and soon after by the State of Pennsylvania.
Its success led to the founding of the Bank of New York in
1784.
On the organization of the Government under the Federal
Constitution, the genius of Alexander Hamilton was called
into service for the work of constructive statesmanship.
From 1789 to 1795 he was Secretary of the Treasury; and one
of his first acts, as shown by Lewis, was the unfolding of a
plan which led to the establishment of the first Bank of the
United States.
In March, 1789, a great and fortunate change took place in the
management of American public affairs. The Constitution of the United
States went into operation. A vigorous, responsible executive was
conferred upon the country, and an incredible impulse given to all
schemes of national importance. Among those now called upon to take part
in the administration of public affairs was Alexander Hamilton. Placed
in charge of the Department of the Treasury, he found before him the
prodigious task of settling the financial affairs of the United States
upon a sure and satisfactory basis. Toward the attainment of this end no
measure seemed more important to him than his old and favorite one for
the establishment of a national bank. Without loss of time he devised a
plan for such an institution which seemed to him practicable, and in
1790 spread before Congress the result of his labors.
"The establishment of banks in this country," says Hamilton in the
course of his report, "seems to be recommended by reasons of a peculiar
nature. Previously to the Revolution, circulation was in a great measure
carried on by paper emitted by the several local governments. This
auxiliary may be said to be now at an end. And it is generally supposed
that there has been for some time past a deficiency of circulating
medium.
"If the supposition of such a deficiency be in any degree founded, and
some aid to circulation be desirable, it remains to inquire what ought
to be the nature of that aid.
"The emitting of paper money by the authority of government is wisely
prohibited to the individual States by the national Constitution; and
the spirit of that prohibition ought not be disregarded by the
Government of the United States.
"Among other material differences between a paper currency issued by the
mere authority of Government, and one issued by a bank, payable in coin,
is this: that in the first case there is no standard to which an appeal
can be made, as to the quantity which will only satisfy or which will
surcharge the circulation; in the last, that standard results from the
demand. If more should be issued than is necessary, it will return upon
the bank. Its emissions must always be in a compound ratio to the fund
and the demand. Whence it is evident that there is a limitation in the
nature of the thing; while the discretion of the Government is the only
measure of the extent of the emissions by its own authority.
"The payment of the interest of the public debt at thirteen different
places is a weighty reason, peculiar to our immediate situation, for
desiring a bank circulation. Without a paper, in general currency,
equivalent to gold and silver, a considerable proportion of the specie
of the country must always be suspended from circulation, and left to
accumulate preparatorily to each day of payment; and as often as one
approaches, there must in several cases be an actual transportation of
the metals at both expense and risk, from their natural and proper
reservoirs, to distant places."
The report then goes on to explain the practical details of the plan
proposed.
The measure met generally with popular applause, but there were some who
doubted its wisdom. Among other difficulties that were thrown in its
path was a suggestion that a new bank was quite unnecessary, since an
institution was in existence which owed its origin to national bounty,
and which had already, upon more than one occasion, manifested both its
readiness and ability to extend a helping hand to the Government. With
this objection Hamilton dealt most courteously.