THE ROYAL FAMILY CARRIED TO PARIS.
Waning Popularity of La Fayette.--The King contemplates
Flight.--Letter of Admiral d'Estaing.--The Flanders Regiment called
to Versailles.--Fête in the Ball-room at Versailles.--Insurrection
of the Women; their March to Versailles.--Horrors of the Night of
October 5th.--The Royal Family conveyed to Paris.
The press now began to assail Bailly and La Fayette as in league
with the aristocrats. The Assembly at the Palais Royal was becoming
paramount, a terrific power, threatening ruin to all who should
advocate measures of moderation. The most violent harangues roused the
populace, and it was evident that they could be easily turned by their
leaders into any path of destruction. Threatening letters flooded the
National Assembly, and one of great ferocity was signed by St. Huruge.
Though he declared it a forgery, he was arrested and imprisoned. The
municipal authority also forbade farther meetings in the Palais Royal,
and La Fayette, with the National Guard, dispersed the gatherings.
The king now seriously contemplated flight, that, at a safe distance
from Paris and surrounded by chosen troops, he might dictate terms to
his people, or, if they refused, prepare, by the aid of foreign arms,
for war. About one hundred and eighty miles northeast of Paris, on the
frontiers of France, was the city of Metz. The city contained about
fifty thousand inhabitants, and its fortifications, constructed by
Vauban, were of the most extensive and formidable kind. The Marquis de
Bouille, one of the most devoted servants of the king, and subsequently
one of the most active agents in urging the foreign powers to march
against France, commanded, in garrison there, thirty thousand picked
troops, resolute Royalists, and who had been taught to regard the
popular movement with contempt.
The plan was well matured for the king to escape to Metz. There he was
to be joined by the court, the nobles with all their retainers, the
ancient parliaments of the provinces, all composed of the aristocratic
class, and by all the soldiers whom the Royalist officers could induce
to follow them to that rendezvous. Then, by the employment of all
the energies of fire and blood, France was to be brought back into
subjection to the old régime.
La Fayette knew of this plan, and yet he did not dare to divulge it to
the people, for he knew that it would provoke a fierce and terrible
outbreak. He saw the peril in which the royal family was involved,
and he wished for their protection. He saw the doom with which the
liberties of France were menaced, and the liberty for which he was
struggling was dearer to him than life. If the king had been either
a merciless despot or a reliable friend of liberty, then would La
Fayette's path of duty have been plain. But the king was an amiable,
kindly-intentioned, weak-minded, vacillating man, quite the tool of the
inexorable court.
It is difficult to conceive of a situation more embarrassing than that
in which La Fayette was now placed. He was at the head of the National
Guard and was informed of all the plots of the court. He wished to be
faithful to his sovereign, and wished also to be true to his country.
Without the connivance, or at least secret assent of La Fayette, it was
hardly possible for the king to escape.
The old admiral D'Estaing was commander of the National Guard at
Versailles. He was a man of noble birth, of magnanimous character, and,
though with true patriotism he espoused the popular cause, he was,
like La Fayette, in favor of a monarchy, and was sincerely friendly to
the king. On the 13th of September he dined with La Fayette at Paris.
Here the marquis unfolded to the amazed admiral the terrible secret in
all its details; that the Baron Breteuil, one of the most implacable
enemies of the Revolution, was arranging with the Austrian embassador
for the co-operation of Austria; that eighteen regiments had already
taken the oath of fidelity to the court; that the Royalists, in large
numbers, were already congregating at Metz; that the nobles and the
clergy had combined in raising funds, so that fifteen hundred thousand
francs ($300,000) a month were secured; that measures were already
adopted to besiege Paris, cut off all supplies, and starve the city
into subjection; and that more than sixty thousand of the clergy and
nobility were pledged to rally around the king.
D'Estaing was appalled by the tidings. He knew that if the populace
were informed of the conspiracy it would rouse them to phrensy, that
no earthly power could protect the royal family from their fury, and
that instantly the fiercest civil war would blaze from the Rhine to the
Pyrenees. Aware of the imbecility of the king, and that the queen was
the author of every vigorous measure, he immediately addressed a very
earnest letter to her. He wrote as follows in a letter long, earnest,
and imploring:
"It is necessary--my duty and my loyalty require it--that I should lay
at the feet of the queen the account of the visit which I have paid to
Paris. I am praised for sleeping soundly the night before an assault or
a naval engagement. I venture to assert that I am not timorous in civil
matters, but I must confess to your majesty that I did not close my
eyes all night.
"I was told--and, gracious heaven! what would be the consequence if
this were circulated among the people--I was told that the king was to
be carried off to Metz. La Fayette told me so in a whisper at dinner. I
trembled lest a single domestic should overhear him. I observed to him
that a word from his lips might become the signal of death. I implore
your majesty to grant me an audience some day this week."[226]
Such a secret could not long be kept. It soon began to be openly spoken
of in the streets as a suspicion, a rumor. Under pretense of protecting
the National Assembly from any violence by the mob from Paris, the king
called a regiment to Versailles from Flanders. This was a regiment in
whose officers and soldiers he could rely, and which was to aid him in
his flight. The troops marched into the city with an imposing array
of artillery and infantry, exciting increasing suspicion, and were
assembled as a guard around the palace.
It was on the 23d of September that this Flanders regiment entered
Versailles, and were stationed around the regal chateau, thus doubling
the body-guard of the king. It was also observed that a very unusual
number of officers crowded the streets of Versailles, estimated at
from a thousand to twelve hundred.[227] A dinner was given to these
officers on the 1st of October, in the hall of the Opera at the palace.
No expense was spared to add splendor to the _fête_, to which all were
invited who could probably be led to co-operate with the court. Wine
flowed freely, and, deep in the hours of the night, when all heads
were delirious, the king and queen, with the young dauphin, entered
the banqueting-hall. They were received with almost phrensied acclaim.
The boxes of the Opera were thronged with ladies of the court, adding
to the enthusiasm. The king, the queen, the dauphin, were toasted
with delirious shouts. When some one proposed "the nation," the toast
was scornfully rejected. As the royal family made the tour of the
tables, the band struck up the air, "O Richard, O my king, the world
is all forsaking thee." The officers leaped upon the chairs and the
tables, drew their swords, and vowed eternal fidelity to the king.
And now ensued a scene which no language can describe. The officers
clambered into the boxes, and received the cordial greetings of the
ladies; the revolutionary movement was cursed intensely; the tricolored
cockade, the badge of popular rights, was trampled under foot, and
the white cockade, the emblem of Bourbon power, was accepted in its
stead from the hands of the ladies. The next day there was another
similar entertainment in the palace, to which a still larger number of
guests were invited, and the convivialities were still more exciting
and violent. The courtiers, with that fatuity which ever marked their
conduct, were now so encouraged, that they began with insolent menaces
to manifest their exultation.
[Illustration: FESTIVAL IN THE BALL-ROOM AT VERSAILLES, OCT. 1, 1789.]
The tidings of these _fêtes_ spread rapidly through Versailles and
Paris, exciting intense indignation. The court was feasting; the
people starving. Versailles was filled with rejoicing; Paris with
mourning. Despotism was exulting in its anticipated triumph, while
the nation was threatened with the loss of its newly-acquired rights.
The king had thus far delayed giving his assent to the Constitution.
Disquietude pervaded the National Assembly, and confused murmurs filled
the thoroughfares of Paris--terrible rumors of the approaching war, of
the league with the German princes, of the increasing famine, and the
threatened blockade of Paris. "We must bring the king to Paris," all
said, "or the court will carry him off, and war will immediately be
commenced."
The morning of the 5th of October dawned, dark, cold, and stormy.
A dismal rain flooded the streets. There were thousands in Paris
that morning who had eaten nothing for thirty hours.[228] The women,
in particular, of the humbler class, were in an awful state of
destitution and misery. The populace of Paris were actually starving.
An energetic woman, half delirious with woe, seized a drum, and strode
through the streets beating it violently, occasionally shrieking,
"Bread! bread!" She soon collected a crowd of women, which rapidly
increased from a few hundred to seven or eight thousand. The men gazed
with wonder upon this strange apparition, such as earth had, perhaps,
never seen before. Like a swelling inundation the living flood rolled
through the streets, and soon the cry was heard, "To Versailles!" As by
a common instinct, the tumultuous mass rushed along by the side of the
Tuileries and through the Elysian Fields toward Versailles. A few of
the more fierce and brutal of the women had guns or pistols. Chancing
to find a couple of cannon, they seized them, and also horses to drag
the ponderous engines, upon which female furies placed themselves
astride, singing revolutionary songs.
[Illustration: THE WOMEN OF PARIS MARCHING TO VERSAILLES.]
La Fayette gazed appalled upon the strange phenomenon. The troops of
the National Guard refused to arrest their course, declaring that they
could not resist starving women, who were going to implore bread of
their king. La Fayette was powerless. He had under arms that morning
thirty-five thousand troops, cavalry, infantry, and artillery. He could
only follow the women, to watch the opening of events. Behind these
troops advancing in all the glittering panoply of war, followed a
straggling mass of, no one can tell how many thousands of the populace
of Paris, of all classes, characters, conditions. The city seemed
emptied of its inhabitants, as the road to Versailles, ten or twelve
miles in length, was filled with the tumultuous multitude. No one,
apparently, had any definite object, but each one was going to see what
the others would do.
Couriers were sent forward to warn the king and queen of the impending
peril. The good-natured, silly king had gone to Meudon to amuse
himself in chasing hares. Nothing can more conclusively show his utter
incapacity to govern a great kingdom, than that he should have been so
employed at such an hour. The king was sent for, and speedily returned
to Versailles. Marie Antoinette had all the energy and heroism of her
mother, Maria Theresa. When entreated immediately to secure her escape
with her two children, she replied,
"Nothing shall induce me to be separated from my husband. I know that
they seek my life; but I am the daughter of Maria Theresa, and have
learned not to fear death."
The king was entreated to escape, but he was fearful that his flight
might embolden the Assembly to declare the throne vacant, and to place
the crown upon the head of the Duke of Orleans, who had, with that
object probably in view, vociferously espoused the popular cause.
From the windows of Versailles the royal family soon descried the
vast multitude plodding along through the mud and the rain as they
approached Versailles. It is said that there were some men in the
mob, disguised as women, who gave impulse and direction to the mass.
A man by the name of Maillard, of gigantic stature, and possessed of
wonderful tact, succeeded in obtaining the post of leader. In this
alarming state of affairs, the king sent to the Assembly a partial
acceptance of the Constitution. As the Assembly were discussing this
question, the women arrived at the hall. Maillard entered, and the
women crowded after him. Respectfully, but earnestly, on behalf of the
women, he represented the starving condition of Paris, and complained
of the insult which the nation had received in the fête at the palace.
It was now three o'clock in the afternoon. The rain was still falling.
A dark, stormy night was at hand, and the streets of Versailles were
filled with countless thousands of the most desperate men and women,
utterly destitute of shelter. The Assembly, in alarm, requested their
president, M. Mounier, to go to the palace and petition for fresh
measures of relief. M. Mounier was compelled to allow twelve women to
accompany him. The king received them kindly. The women had adroitly
selected, as the leader of their deputation, a very beautiful young
flower-girl, but seventeen years of age, of remarkably graceful form
and lovely features. The girl, overcome by her sensations, endeavored
in vain to speak, and fainted. The king took her in his arms,
embraced her as if she had been his child, and was so paternal that
he completely won the hearts of all the women. They left the palace
with such enthusiastic accounts of the goodness of the king, that the
Amazons on the outside accused them of having been bribed, and, in
their rage, were ready to tear them in pieces. The poor flower-girl
would have been hanged with garters to a lamp-post had not the soldiers
rescued her.
The king now summoned a council, which continued in session until ten
o'clock. Still, by some unpardonable neglect, no measures were adopted
to provide for the wants of the famished mob. It was nearly seven
o'clock in the evening before La Fayette arrived with the National
Guard.[229] The soldiers of the guard, intelligent citizens, were
only to be controlled by the _personal influence_ of their general.
_Authority_ is only established by time and consolidated institutions.
La Fayette hastened to the palace to assure the royal family that every
thing in his power should be done to secure their safety. The king,
however, would not intrust the guard of the palace to La Fayette, as
he thought he could place more reliance in the Flanders regiment, the
Swiss mercenaries, and his own Life-Guard, than in the National Guard,
who were all devoted to the popular cause.
In the confusion of those dreadful hours, all the entrances to the
palace had not been defended. La Fayette, however, stationed an
effectual guard at all the outposts which had been assigned to him.
Through all the hours of the night, until five o'clock in the morning,
La Fayette was sleeplessly engaged sending out patrols and watching
over the public peace. Then, finding all tranquil, he threw himself
upon a sofa for rest, having been constantly and anxiously employed
for the last twenty-four hours. Groups of shivering, famished people
were gathered around large fires, which they had built in the streets,
and in one place they were devouring the half-roasted flesh of a horse
which they had killed. The queen, worn out with sleeplessness, had
retired to her chamber. The king had also gone to his chamber, which
was connected with that of the queen by a hall, through which they
could mutually pass. Two soldiers guarded the door of the queen's
chamber. Some of the mob, prowling around the palace, found a gate
unguarded, and, entering the palace without any obstruction, ascended
the stairs, and, pressing blindly on, came to the door of the queen's
apartment. The soldiers heroically resisted them, and shouted to others
to save the queen. She heard the cry, and, springing from her bed,
rushed in her night-clothes to the king's room. The brigands pushed
resolutely forward, and found the royal bed forsaken. A number of the
Life-Guards hastened to the spot, and arrested their farther progress;
and the soldiers of La Fayette, who had been stationed at a little
distance, hearing the tumult, hastened to their aid.
The noise roused the mob, and a conflict immediately ensued between
the soldiers and the phrensied multitude. La Fayette, who had not yet
fallen asleep, sprung from his couch, and, hastening to the palace,
found several of the king's troops on the point of being slaughtered.
One of the brigands aimed a musket at La Fayette, but the mob seized
him and dashed out his brains upon the pavement. The Life-Guards and
the Grenadiers of La Fayette soon cleared the palace; and the whole
court acknowledged that they were indebted to La Fayette for their
lives. Madame Adelaide, the queen's aunt, threw her arms around him,
exclaiming "General, you have saved us."[230]
[Illustration: HEROIC DEFENSE OF THE ROYAL APARTMENTS BY THE GARDE DU
CORPS, OCT. 5, 1789.]
The morning of the 6th was now dawning, and the whole multitude,
swarming around the palace, demanded as with one voice that the king
should go to Paris. A council was held, and it was decided by the court
that the king should comply. Slips of paper announcing the decision
were thrown to the people from the windows. Loud shouts now rose of
"Long live the King!" But threatening voices were raised against the
queen, who was hated as an Austrian, and as one who was endeavoring to
bring the armies of Austria to crush liberty in France.
"Madame," said La Fayette to the queen, "the king goes to Paris; what
will you do?"
"Accompany the king," was the queen's undaunted reply.
"Come with me, then," rejoined the general.
He led the queen upon a balcony, from whence she looked out upon the
multitude, agitated like the ocean in a storm. All eyes were speedily
fixed upon her as she stood by the side of La Fayette, and held by
the hand her little son, the dauphin. The murmurs of the crowd were
immediately succeeded by expressions of admiration. La Fayette took her
hand, and, raising it to his lips, respectfully kissed it. An almost
universal shout of "Long live the Queen!" was the response of the
multitude to this graceful and well-timed act. The queen then stepped
back into the room, and said to La Fayette, "My guards, can you not
do something for them?" "Give me one," said La Fayette, and, leading
the soldier to the balcony, he presented him to the people, and handed
him the tricolored cockade. The guard kissed it, and placed it on his
hat. The people were satisfied, reconciled, and cheered with hearty
plaudits. Many of the garde du corps had been taken prisoners, and they
all would have been murdered by the mob but for the vigorous efforts of
La Fayette to rescue them from their hands.
[Illustration: LA FAYETTE RESCUING THE GARDE DU CORPS, OCT. 6, 1789.]
The Assembly, being apprised of the king's intention to go to Paris,
passed a resolution that the Assembly was inseparable from the person
of the king, and nominated a hundred deputies to accompany him to the
metropolis. Two of the king's body-guard had been killed, and some
wretches had cut off their heads, and were parading them about on
pikes.[231]
[Illustration: THE ROYAL FAMILY CONVEYED TO PARIS, OCT. 6, 1789.]
It was one o'clock when the carriages containing the royal family left
Versailles.[232] The whole mob of Paris, men and women, a tumultuous,
clamorous multitude, went in advance. Following immediately the
carriages of the court came the hundred deputies, also in coaches. Then
came the National Guard. Carts laden with corn and flour, escorted by
Grenadiers, followed the immense train. None were so malignant and
merciless as the degraded women who composed so large a part of this
throng. "We shall now," they exclaimed, "have bread, for we have with
us the baker, the baker's wife, and the baker's boy."
It required seven hours for this unwieldy mass to urge its slow
progress to Paris. The king was conducted to the Hôtel de Ville, where
he was received by M. Bailly, the mayor. The royal family descended
from their carriages by torch-light, and entered the great hall,
where they were received with acclamations. After the ceremony of
reception by the municipality of Paris was over, the king and his
family were conducted to the Tuileries. The vast palace had not been
the residence of the royal family for a hundred years, and its spacious
and poorly-furnished apartments presented but a cheerless aspect. The
National Guard were stationed around the palace, and thus La Fayette
was made responsible for the safe-keeping of the person of the king.
Thus terminated the eventful days of the 5th and 6th of October, 1789.
The king was now virtually a prisoner, and the nobles could no longer
avail themselves of his name in enforcing, by the aid of foreign
armies, despotism upon France.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 225: Mounier, who was strongly in favor of two chambers and
an absolute veto, in his _Report to his Constituents_, writes, in
reference to some private and friendly conferences held at this time:
"These conferences, twice renewed, were unsuccessful. They were
recommenced at the house of an American known for his abilities and his
virtues, who had both the experience and the theory of the institutions
proper for maintaining liberty. He gave an opinion in favor of my
principles."
This American was unquestionably Thomas Jefferson. He saw the peril
with which the Revolution was menaced, and that freedom needed as
strong a guard against the blind impulses of the populace as against
the encroachments of the court. Two houses might perhaps have checked
the rush to ruin, but could hardly have averted the disaster. For ages
the nobles had been "sowing the wind." It was the decree of God that
they should "reap the whirlwind." "He visiteth the iniquities of the
fathers upon the children."]
[Footnote 226: Brouillon: le Lettre de M. d'Estaing à la Reine (in
Histoire Parlementaire, vol. iii., p. 24).]
[Footnote 227: "Le ministre de la guerre multiplia les congés de
semestre, afin d'avoir un corps de volontaires royaux, composé de douze
cent cents officiers."--_Villiaumé_, p. 34.]
[Footnote 228: Moniteur, vol. i., p. 568. Histoire de Deux Amis de la
Liberté, t. iii.]
[Footnote 229: Thiers, vol. i., p. 106.]
[Footnote 230: "M. de la Fayette has been so calumniated, and his
character is nevertheless so pure, so consistent, that it is right
to devote at least one note to him. His conduct during the fifth
and sixth of October was that of continual self-devotion, and yet
it has been represented as criminal by men who owed their lives to
it. The spirit of party, feeling the danger of allowing any virtues
to a Constitutionalist, denied the services of La Fayette, and then
commenced that long series of calumnies to which he has ever since been
exposed."--_Thiers_, vol. i., p. 108.]
[Footnote 231: Thiers, vol. i., p. 111.]
[Footnote 232: "I saw her majesty in her cabinet an instant before her
departure for Paris. She could scarcely speak. Tears poured down her
face, to which all the blood in her body seemed to have mounted. She
did me the favor to embrace me, and gave her hand to M. Campan to kiss,
saying to us, Come immediately to take up your abode in Paris. We are
utterly lost; dragged probably to death. Captive kings are always very
near it."--_Madame Campan_, vol. ii., p. 84.]