CHAPTER V.

_Plan of the Democrats to bring the King and Assembly to

Paris--Banquet of the Garde du Corps--Riot at Paris--A

formidable Mob of Women assemble to march to Versailles--The

National Guard refuse to act against the Insurgents, and demand

also to be led to Versailles--The Female Mob arrive--Their

behaviour to the Assembly--To the King--Alarming Disorders at

Night--La Fayette arrives with the National Guard--Mob force the

Palace--Murder the Body Guards--The Queen's safety

endangered--Fayette's arrival with his Force restores

Order--Royal Family obliged to go to reside at Paris--The

Procession--This Step agreeable to the Views of the

Constitutionalists, Republicans, and Anarchists--Duke of Orleans

sent to England._

We have mentioned the various restrictions upon the royal authority,

which had been successively sanctioned by the National Assembly. But the

various factions, all of which tended to democracy, were determined upon

manœuvres for abating the royal authority, more actively powerful

than those which the Assembly dared yet to venture upon. For this

purpose, all those who desired to carry the Revolution to extremity,

became desirous to bring the sittings of the National Assembly and the

residence of the King within the precincts of Paris, and to place them

under the influence of that popular frenzy which they had so many ways

of exciting, and which might exercise the authority of terror over the

body of representatives, fill their galleries with a wild and tumultuous

band of partisans, surround their gates with an infuriated populace, and

thus dictate the issue of each deliberation. What fate was reserved for

the King, after incidents will sufficiently show. To effect an object so

important, the Republican party strained every effort, and succeeded in

raising the popular ferment to the highest pitch.

Their first efforts were unsuccessful. A deputation, formidable from

their numbers and clamorous violence, was about to sally from Paris to

petition, as they called it, for the removal of the royal family and

National Assembly to Paris, but was dispersed by the address of La

Fayette and Bailli. Nevertheless it seemed decreed that the Republicans

should carry their favourite measures, less through their own proper

strength, great as that was, than by the advantage afforded by the

blunders of the Royalists. An imprudence--it seems to deserve no harsher

name--which occurred within the precincts of the royal palace at

Versailles, gave the demagogues an opportunity, sooner probably than

they expected, of carrying their point by a repetition of the violences

which had already occurred.

The town of Versailles owed its splendour and wealth entirely to its

being the royal residence, yet abounded with a population singularly

ill-disposed towards the King and royal family. The national guard of

the place, amounting to some thousands, were animated by the same

feelings. There were only about four hundred gardes du corps, or

life-guards, upon whom reliance could be placed for the defence of the

royal family, in case of any popular tumult either in Versailles itself,

or directed thither from Paris. These troops consisted of gentlemen of

trust and confidence, but their numbers were few in proportion to the

extent of the palace, and their very quality rendered them obnoxious to

the people as armed aristocrats.

About two-thirds of their number, to avoid suspicion and gain

confidence, had been removed to Rambouillets. In these circumstances,

the grenadiers of the French guards, so lately in arms, against the

royal authority, with an inconsistency not unnatural to men of their

profession, took it into their heads to become zealous for the recovery

of the posts which they had formerly occupied around the King's person,

and threatened openly to march to Versailles, to take possession of the

routine of duty at the palace, a privilege which they considered as

their due, notwithstanding that they had deserted their posts against

the King's command, and were now about to resume them contrary to his

consent. The regiment of Flanders was brought up to Versailles, to

prevent a movement fraught with so much danger to the royal family. The

presence of this corps had been required by the municipality, and the

measure had been acquiesced in by the Assembly, though not without some

expressive indications of suspicion.

[Sidenote: BANQUET AT VERSAILLES.]

The regiment of Flanders arrived accordingly, and the gardes du corps,

according to a custom universal in the French garrisons, invited the

officers to an entertainment, at which the officers of the Swiss guards,

and those of the national guard of Versailles were also guests. [Oct.

1.] This ill-omened feast was given in the opera hall of the palace,

almost within hearing of the sovereigns; the healths of the royal family

were drunk with the enthusiasm naturally inspired by the situation. The

King and Queen imprudently agreed to visit the scene of festivity,

carrying with them the Dauphin. Their presence raised the spirits of the

company, already excited by wine and music, to the highest pitch;

royalist tunes were played, the white cockade, distributed by the

ladies who attended the Queen, was mounted with enthusiasm, and it is

said that of the nation was trodden under foot.[95]

If we consider the cause of this wild scene, it seems natural enough

that the Queen, timid as a woman, anxious as a wife and a mother, might,

in order to propitiate the favour of men who were summoned expressly to

be the guard of the royal family, incautiously have recourse to imitate,

in a slight degree, and towards one regiment, the arts of conciliation,

which in a much grosser shape had been used by the popular party to

shake the fidelity of the whole army. But it is impossible to conceive

that the King, or ministers, could have hoped, by the transitory and

drunken flash of enthusiasm elicited from a few hundred men during a

carousal, to commence the counter-revolution, which they dared not

attempt when they had at their command thirty thousand troops, under an

experienced general.

But as no false step among the Royalists remained unimproved by their

adversaries, the military feast of Versailles was presented to the

people of Paris under a light very different from that in which it must

be viewed by posterity. The Jacobins were the first to sound the alarm

through all their clubs and societies, and the hundreds of hundreds of

popular orators whom they had at their command, excited the citizens by

descriptions of the most dreadful plots, fraught with massacres and

proscriptions. Every effort had already been used to heat the popular

mind against the King and Queen, whom, in allusion to the obnoxious

power granted to them by the law, they had of late learned to curse and

insult, under the names of Monsieur and Madame Veto. The King had

recently delayed yielding his sanction to the declarations of the Rights

of Man, until the constitution was complete. This had been severely

censured by the Assembly, who spoke of sending a deputation to extort

his consent to these declarations, before presenting him with the

practical results which they intended to bottom on them. A dreadful

scarcity, amounting nearly to a famine, rendered the populace even more

accessible than usual to desperate counsels. The feasts, amid which the

aristocrats were represented as devising their plots, seemed an insult

on the public misery. When the minds of the lower orders were thus

prejudiced, it was no difficult matter to produce an insurrection.

[Sidenote: INSURRECTION IN PARIS.]

That of the 5th October, 1789, was of a singular description, the

insurgents being chiefly of the female sex. The market-women, "Dames de

la Halle," as they are called, half unsexed by the masculine nature of

their employments, and entirely so by the ferocity of their manners, had

figured early in the Revolution. With these were allied and associated

most of the worthless and barbarous of their own sex, such disgraceful

specimens of humanity as serve but to show in what a degraded state it

may be found to exist. Females of this description began to assemble

early in the morning, in large groups, with the cries for "bread," which

so easily rouse a starving metropolis. There were amongst them many men

disguised as women, and they compelled all the females they met to go

along with them. They marched to the Hôtel de Ville, broke boldly

through several squadrons of the national guard, who were drawn up in

front of that building for its defence, and were with difficulty

dissuaded from burning the records it contained. They next seized a

magazine of arms, with three or four pieces of cannon, and were joined

by a miscellaneous rabble, armed with pikes, scythes, and similar

instruments, who called themselves the conquerors of the Bastile. The

still increasing multitude re-echoed the cry of "Bread, bread!--to

Versailles! to Versailles!"[96]

The national guard were now called out in force, but speedily showed

their officers that they too were infected with the humour of the times,

and as much indisposed to subordination as the mob, to disperse which

they were summoned. La Fayette put himself at their head, not to give

his own, but to receive their orders. They refused to act against women,

who, they said, were starving, and in their turn demanded to be led to

Versailles, "to dethrone,"--such was their language,--"the King, who was

a driveller, and place the crown on the head of his son." La Fayette

hesitated, implored, explained; but he had as yet to learn the situation

of a revolutionary general. "Is it not strange," said one of his

soldiers, who seemed quite to understand the military relation of

officer and private on such an occasion, "is it not strange that La

Fayette pretends to command the people, when it is his part to receive

orders from them?"

Soon afterwards an order arrived from the Assembly of the Commune of

Paris, enjoining the commandant's march, upon his own report that it was

impossible to withstand the will of the people. He marched accordingly

in good order, and at the head of a large force of the national guard,

about four or five hours after the departure of the mob, who, while he

waited in a state of indecision, were already far on their way to

Versailles.

It does not appear that the King, or his ministers, had any information

of these hostile movements. Assuredly, there could not have been a

royalist in Paris willing to hazard a horse or a groom to carry such

intelligence where the knowledge of it must have been so important. The

leading members of the Assembly, at Versailles, were better informed.

"These gentlemen," said Barbantanne, looking at the part of the hall

where the Nobles and Clergy usually sat, "wish more light--they shall

have lanterns,[97] they may rely upon it." Mirabeau went behind the

chair of Mounier, the president. "Paris is marching upon us," he

said.--"I know not what you mean," said Mounier.--"Believe me or not,

all Paris is marching upon us--dissolve the sitting."--"I never hurry

the deliberations," said Mounier.--"Then feign illness," said

Mirabeau,--"go to the palace, tell them what I say, and give me for

authority. But there is not a minute to lose--Paris marches upon

us."--"So much the better," answered Mounier, "we shall be a republic

the sooner."[98]

Shortly after this singular dialogue, occasioned probably by a sudden

movement, in which Mirabeau showed the aristocratic feelings from which

he never could shake himself free, the female battalion, together with

their masculine allies, continued their march uninterruptedly, and

entered Versailles in the afternoon, singing patriotic airs,

intermingled with blasphemous obscenities, and the most furious threats

against the Queen. Their first visit was to the National Assembly, where

the beating of drums, shouts, shrieks, and a hundred confused sounds,

interrupted the deliberations. A man called Mailliard, brandishing a

sword in his hand, and supported by a woman holding a long pole, to

which was attached a tambour de basque, commenced a harangue in the name

of the sovereign people. He announced that they wanted bread; that they

were convinced the ministers were traitors; that the arm of the people

was uplifted, and about to strike;--with much to the same purpose, in

the exaggerated eloquence of the period.[99] The same sentiments were

echoed by his followers, mingled with the bitterest threats, against the

Queen in particular, that fury could contrive, expressed in language of

the most energetic brutality.

The Amazons then crowded into the Assembly, mixed themselves with the

members, occupied the seat of the president, of the secretaries,

produced or procured victuals and wine, drank, sung, swore, scolded,

screamed,--abused some of the members, and loaded others with their

loathsome caresses.[100]

A deputation of these mad women was at length sent to St. Priest, the

minister, a determined Royalist, who received them sternly, and replied,

to their demand of bread, "When you had but one king, you never wanted

bread--you have now twelve hundred--go ask it of them." They were

introduced to the King, however, and were so much struck with the kind

interest which he took in the state of Paris, that their hearts relented

in his favour, and the deputies returned to their constituents, shouting

"Vive le Roi!"[101]

[Sidenote: MOB SURROUND THE PALACE.]

Had the tempest depended on the mere popular breeze, it might now have

been lulled to sleep; but there was a secret ground-swell, a heaving

upwards of the bottom of the abyss, which could not be conjured down by

the awakened feelings or convinced understandings of the deputation. A

cry was raised that the deputies had been bribed to represent the King

favourably; and, in this humour of suspicion, the army of Amazons

stripped their garters, for the purpose of strangling their own

delegates. They had by this time ascertained, that neither the national

guard of Versailles, nor the regiment of Flanders, whose transitory

loyalty had passed away with the fumes of the wine of the banquet, would

oppose them by force, and that they had only to deal with the gardes du

corps, who dared not to act with vigour, lest they should provoke a

general attack on the palace, while the most complete distraction and

indecision reigned within its precincts. Bold in consequence, the female

mob seized on the exterior avenues of the palace, and threatened

destruction to all within.

The attendants of the King saw it necessary to take measures for the

safety of his person, but they were marked by indecision and confusion.

A force was hastily gathered of two or three hundred gentlemen, who, it

was proposed, should mount the horses of the royal stud, and escort the

King to Rambouillet, out of this scene of confusion.[102] The gardes du

corps, with such assistance, might certainly have forced their way

through a mob or the tumultuary description which surrounded them; and

the escape of the King from Versailles, under circumstances so critical,

might have had a great effect in changing the current of popular

feeling. But those opinions prevailed, which recommended that he should

abide the arrival of La Fayette with the civic force of Paris.

It was now night, and the armed rabble of both sexes showed no intention

of departing or breaking up. On the contrary, they bivouacked after

their own manner upon the parade, where the soldiers usually mustered.

There they kindled large fires, ate, drank, sang, caroused, and

occasionally discharged their firearms. Scuffles arose from time to

time, and one or two of the gardes du corps had been killed and wounded

in the quarrel, which the rioters had endeavoured to fasten on them;

besides which, this devoted corps had sustained a volley from their late

guests, the national guard of Versailles. The horse of a garde du corps,

which fell into the hands of these female demons, was killed, torn in

pieces, and eaten half raw and half roasted.[103] Every thing seemed

tending to a general engagement, when late at night the drums announced

the approach of La Fayette at the head of his civic army, which moved

slowly but in good order.

The presence of this great force seemed to restore a portion of

tranquillity, though no one appeared to know with certainty how it was

likely to act. La Fayette had an audience of the King, explained the

means he had adopted for the security of the palace, recommended to the

inhabitants to go to rest, and unhappily set the example by retiring

himself.[104] Before doing so, however, he also visited the Assembly,

pledged himself for the safety of the royal family and the tranquillity

of the night, and with some difficulty, prevailed on the President

Mounier to adjourn the sitting, which had been voted permanent. He thus

took upon himself the responsibility for the quiet of the night. We are

loth to bring into question the worth, honour, and fidelity of La

Fayette; and we can therefore only lament, that weariness should have so

far overcome him at an important crisis, and that he should have trusted

to others the execution of those precautions, which were most grossly

neglected.

A band of the rioters found means to penetrate into the palace about

three in the morning, through a gate which was left unlocked and

unguarded. They rushed to the Queen's apartment, and bore down the few

gardes du corps who hastened to her defence. The sentinel knocked at the

door of her bedchamber, called to her to escape, and then gallantly

exposed himself to the fury of the murderers. His single opposition was

almost instantly overcome, and he himself left for dead. Over his

bleeding body they forced their way into the Queen's apartment; but

their victim, reserved for farther and worse woes, had escaped by a

secret passage into the chamber of the King, while the assassins,

bursting in, stabbed the bed she had just left with pikes and

swords.[105]

[Sidenote: MURDER OF THE BODY GUARDS.]

The gardes du corps assembled in the ante-chamber called the bull's eye,

and endeavoured there to defend themselves; but several, unable to gain

this place of refuge, were dragged down into the courtyard, where a

wretch, distinguished by a long beard, a broad bloody axe, and a species

of armour which he wore on his person, had taken on himself, by taste

and choice, the office of executioner. The strangeness of the villain's

costume, the sanguinary relish with which he discharged his office, and

the hoarse roar with which, from time to time, he demanded new victims,

made him resemble some demon whom hell had vomited forth, to augment the

wickedness and horror of the scene.[106]

Two of the gardes du corps were already beheaded, and the Man with the

Beard was clamorous to do his office upon the others who had been taken,

when La Fayette, roused from his repose, arrived at the head of a body

of grenadiers of the old French guards, who had been lately incorporated

with the civic guard, and were probably the most efficient part of his

force. He did not think of avenging the unfortunate gentlemen, who lay

murdered before his eyes for the discharge of their military duty, but

he entreated his soldiers to save him the dishonour of breaking his

word, which he had pledged to the King, that he would protect the gardes

du corps. It is probable he attempted no more than was in his power, and

so far acted wisely, if not generously.

To redeem M. de la Fayette's pledge, the grenadiers did, what they ought

to have done in the name of the King, the law, the nation, and insulted

humanity,--they cleared, and with perfect ease, the court of the palace

from these bands of murderous bacchantes, and their male associates. The

instinct of ancient feelings, was, in some degree, awakened in the

grenadiers. They experienced a sudden sensation of compassion and

kindness for the gardes du corps, whose duty on the royal person they

had in former times shared. There arose a cry among them,--"Let us save

the gardes du corps, who saved us at Fontenoy." They took them under

their protection, exchanged their caps with them in sign of friendship

and fraternity, and a tumult, which had something of the character of

joy, succeeded to that which had announced nothing but blood and

death.[107]

The outside of the palace was still besieged by the infuriated mob, who

demanded, with hideous cries, and exclamations the most barbarous and

obscene, to see "the Austrian," as they called the Queen. The

unfortunate princess appeared on the balcony[108] with one of her

children in each hand. A voice from the crowd called out, "No children,"

as if on purpose to deprive the mother of that appeal to humanity which

might move the hardest heart. Marie Antoinette, with a force of mind

worthy of Maria Theresa, her mother, pushed her children back into the

room, and, turning her face to the tumultuous multitude, which tossed

and roared beneath, brandishing their pikes and guns with the wildest

attitudes of rage, the reviled, persecuted, and denounced Queen stood

before them, her arms folded on her bosom, with a noble air of

courageous resignation.[109] The secret reason of this summons--the real

cause of repelling the children--could only be to afford a chance of

some desperate hand among the crowd executing the threats which

resounded on all sides. Accordingly, a gun was actually levelled, but

one of the bystanders struck it down; for the passions of the mob had

taken an opposite turn, and, astonished at Marie Antoinette's noble

presence, and graceful firmness of demeanour, there arose, almost in

spite of themselves, a general shout of "Vive la Reine!"[110]

But if the insurgents, or rather those who prompted them, missed their

first point, they did not also lose their second. A cry arose, "To

Paris!" at first uttered by a solitary voice, but gathering strength,

until the whole multitude shouted, "To Paris--to Paris!"[111] The cry of

these blood-thirsty bacchanals, such as they had that night shown

themselves, was, it seems, considered as the voice of the people, and as

such, La Fayette neither remonstrated himself, nor permitted the King to

interpose a moment's delay in yielding obedience to it; nor was any

measure taken to put some appearance even of decency on the journey, or

to disguise its real character, of a triumphant procession of the

sovereign people, after a complete victory over their nominal monarch.

[Sidenote: PROCESSION TO PARIS.]

The carriages of the royal family were placed in the middle of an

immeasurable column, consisting partly of La Fayette's soldiers, partly

of the revolutionary rabble, whose march had preceded his, amounting to

several thousand men and women of the lowest and most desperate

description, intermingling in groups amongst the bands of French guards

and civic soldiers, whose discipline could not enable them to preserve

even a semblance of order. Thus they rushed along, howling their songs

of triumph. The harbingers of the march bore the two bloody heads of

the murdered gardes du corps, paraded on pikes, at the head of the

column, as the emblems of their prowess and success.[112] The rest of

this body, worn down by fatigue, most of them despoiled of their arms,

and many without hats, anxious for the fate of the royal family, and

harassed with apprehensions for themselves, were dragged like captives

in the midst of the mob, while the drunken females around them bore

aloft in triumph their arms, their belts, and their hats. These

wretches, stained with the blood in which they had bathed themselves,

were now singing songs, of which the burden bore--"We bring you the

baker, his wife, and the little apprentice!"[113] as if the presence of

the unhappy royal family, with the little power they now possessed, had

been in itself a charm against scarcity. Some of these Amazons rode upon

the cannon, which made a formidable part of the procession. Many of them

were mounted on the horses of the gardes du corps, some in masculine

fashion, others _en croupe_. All the muskets and pikes which attended

this immense cavalcade, were garnished, as if in triumph, with oak

boughs, and the women carried long poplar branches in their hands, which

gave the column, so grotesquely composed in every respect, the

appearance of a moving grove.[114] Scarcely a circumstance was omitted

which could render this entrance into the capital more insulting to the

King's feelings--more degrading to the royal dignity.

After six hours of dishonour and agony, the unfortunate Louis was

brought to the Hôtel de Ville, where Bailli, then mayor,[115]

complimented him upon the "beau jour," the "splendid day," which

restored the monarch of France to his capital; assured him that order,

peace, and all the gentler virtues, were about to revive in the country

under his royal eye, and that the King would henceforth become powerful

through the people, the people happy through the King; and, "what was

truest of all," that as Henry IV. had entered Paris by means of

reconquering his people, Louis XVI. had done so, because his people had

reconquered their King.[116] His wounds salved with this lip-comfort,

the unhappy and degraded prince was at length permitted to retire to the

palace of the Tuileries, which, long uninhabited, and almost

unfurnished, yawned upon him like the tomb where alone he at length

found repose.[117]

The events of the 14th July, 1789, when the Bastile was taken, formed

the first great stride of the Revolution, actively considered. Those of

the 5th and 6th of October, in the same year, which we have detailed at

length, as peculiarly characteristic of the features which it assumed,

made the second grand phasis. The first had rendered the inhabitants of

the metropolis altogether independent of their sovereign, and indeed of

any government but that which they chose to submit to; the second

deprived the King of that small appearance of freedom which he had

hitherto exercised, and fixed his dwelling in the midst of his

metropolis, independent and self-regulated as we have described it. "It

is wonderful," said Louis, "that with such love of liberty on all sides,

I am the only person that is deemed totally unworthy of enjoying it."

Indeed, after the march from Versailles, the King could only be

considered as the signet of royal authority, used for attesting public

acts at the pleasure of those in whose custody he was detained, but

without the exercise of any free-will on his own part.

All the various parties found their account, less or more, in this state

of the royal person, excepting the pure Royalists, whose effective power

was little, and their comparative numbers few. There remained, indeed,

attached to the person and cause of Louis, a party of those members,

who, being friends to freedom, were no less so to regulated monarchy,

and who desired to fix the throne on a firm and determined basis. But

their numbers were daily thinned, and their spirits were broken. The

excellent Mounier, and the eloquent Lally Tolendal, emigrated after the

9th October, unable to endure the repetition of such scenes as were then

exhibited. The indignant adieus of the latter to the National Assembly,

were thus forcibly expressed:--

"It is impossible for me, even my physical strength alone considered, to

discharge my functions amid the scenes we have witnessed. Those heads

borne in trophy; that Queen half assassinated; that King dragged into

Paris by troops of robbers and assassins; the 'splendid day' of M.

Bailli; the jests of Barnave, when blood was floating around us; Mounier

escaping, as if by miracle, from a thousand assassins; these are the

causes of my oath never again to enter that den of cannibals. A man may

endure a single death; he may brave it more than once, when the loss of

life can be useful--but no power under Heaven shall induce me to suffer

a thousand tortures every passing minute--while I am witnessing the

progress of cruelty, the triumph of guilt, which I must witness without

interrupting it. They may proscribe my person, they may confiscate my

fortune; I will labour the earth for my bread, and I will see them no

more."[118]

The other parties into which the state was divided, saw the events of

the 5th October with other feelings, and if they did not forward, at

least found their account in them.

[Sidenote: VIEWS OF THE CONSTITUTIONALISTS.]

The Constitutional party, or those who desired a democratical government

with a king at its head, had reason to hope that Louis, being in Paris,

must remain at their absolute disposal, separated from those who might

advise counter-revolutionary steps, and guarded only by national troops,

embodied in the name, and through the powers, of the Revolution. Every

day, indeed, rendered Louis more dependent on La Fayette and his

friends, as the only force which remained to preserve order; for he soon

found it a necessary, though a cruel measure, to disband his faithful

gardes du corps, and that perhaps as much with a view to their safety as

to his own.

The Constitutional party seemed strong both in numbers and reputation.

La Fayette was commandant of the national guards, and they looked up to

him with that homage and veneration with which young troops, and

especially of this description, regard a leader of experience and

bravery, who, in accepting the command, seems to share his laurels with

the citizen-soldier, who has won none of his own. Bailli was Mayor of

Paris, and, in the height of a popularity not undeserved, was so well

established in the minds of the better class of citizens, that, in any

other times than those in which he lived, he might safely have despised

the suffrages of the rabble, always to be bought, either by largesses or

flattery. The Constitutionalists had also a strong majority in the

Assembly, where the Republicans dared not yet throw off the mask, and

the Assembly, following the person of the King, came also to establish

its sittings in their stronghold, the metropolis.[119] They seemed,

therefore, to assume the ascendency in the first instance, after the 5th

and 6th of October, and to reap all the first fruits of the victory then

achieved, though by their connivance rather than their active

co-operation.

It is wonderful, that, meaning still to assign to the regal dignity a

high constitutional situation, La Fayette should not have exerted

himself to preserve its dignity undegraded, and to save the honour, as

he certainly saved the lives, of the royal family. Three reasons might

prevent his doing what, as a gentleman and a soldier, he must otherwise

at least have attempted. First, although he boasted highly of his

influence with the national guard of Paris, it may be doubted whether

all his popularity would have borne him through, in any endeavour to

deprive the good people of that city of such a treat as the Joyous Entry

of the 6th of October, or whether the civic power would, even for the

immediate defence of the King's person, have used actual force against

the band of Amazons who directed that memorable procession. Secondly, La

Fayette might fear the revival of the fallen colossus of despotism, more

than the rising spirit of anarchy, and thus be induced to suppose that a

conquest in the King's cause over a popular insurrection, might be too

active a cordial to the drooping spirits of the Royalists. And lastly,

the revolutionary general, as a politician, might not be unwilling that

the King and his consort should experience in their own persons, such a

specimen of popular power, as might intimidate them from further

opposition to the popular will, and incline Louis to assume

unresistingly his diminished rank in the new constitution.

The Republican party, with better reason than the Constitutionalists,

exulted in the King's change of residence. It relieved them as well as

Fayette's party from all apprehension of Louis raising his standard in

the provinces, and taking the field on his own account, like Charles of

England in similar circumstances. Then they already foresaw, that

whenever the Constitutionalists should identify themselves with the

crown, whom all parties had hitherto laboured to represent as the common

enemy, they would become proportionally unpopular with the people at

large, and lose possession of the superior power as a necessary

consequence. Aristocrats, the only class which was sincerely united to

the King's person, would, they might safely predict, dread and distrust

the Constitutionalists, while with the Democrats, so very much the more

numerous party, the King's name, instead of "a tower of strength," as

the poet has termed it,[120] must be a stumbling-block and a rock of

offence. They foresaw, finally, either that the King must remain the

mere passive tool of the Constitutionalists, acting unresistingly under

their order,--in which case the office would be soon regarded as an idle

and expensive bauble, without any force or dignity of free-will, and fit

only to be flung aside as an unnecessary incumbrance on the republican

forms,--or, in the event of the King attempting, either by force or

escape, to throw off the yoke of the Constitutionalists, he would

equally furnish arms to the pure Democrats against his person and

office, as the source of danger to the popular cause. Some of the

Republican chiefs had probably expected a more sudden termination to the

reign of Louis from an insurrection so threatening; at least these

leaders had been the first to hail and to encourage the female

insurgents, on their arrival at Versailles.[121] But though the issue of

that insurrection may have fallen short of their hopes, it could not but

be highly acceptable to them so far as it went.

[Sidenote: ORLEANS SENT TO ENGLAND.]

The party of Orleans had hitherto wrapt in its dusky folds many of those

names which were afterwards destined to hold dreadful rank in the

Revolutionary history. The prince whose name they adopted is supposed to

have been animated partly by a strong and embittered spirit of personal

hatred against the Queen, and partly, as we have already said, by an

ambitious desire to supplant his kinsman. He placed, according to

general report, his treasures, and all which his credit could add to

them, at the disposal of men, abounding in those energetic talents which

carry their owners forward in times of public confusion, but devoid

alike of fortune, character, and principle; who undertook to serve their

patron by enlisting in his cause the obscure and subordinate agents, by

whom mobs were levied, and assassins subsidized. It is said, that the

days of the 5th and 6th of October were organized by the secret agents

of Orleans, and for his advantage; that had the enterprise succeeded,

the King would have been deposed, and the Duke of Orleans proclaimed

Lieutenant-General of the kingdom, while his revenge would probably have

been satiated with the Queen's assassination. He is stated to have

skulked in disguise about the outskirts of the scene when the tumult was

at the highest, but never to have had courage to present himself boldly

to the people, either to create a sensation by surprise, or to avail

himself of that which his satellites had already excited in his

favour.[122] His resolution having thus failed him at the point where it

was most necessary, and the tumult having ended without any thing taking

place in his favour, the Duke of Orleans was made a scape-goat, and the

only one, to atone for the whole insurrection. Under the title of an

embassy to England, he was honourably exiled from his native country.

[Oct. 14.] Mirabeau spoke of him in terms of the utmost contumely, as

being base-minded as a lackey, and totally unworthy the trouble which

had been taken on his account. His other adherents gradually and

successively dropped away, in proportion as the wealth, credit, and

character of this besotted prince rendered him incapable of maintaining

his gratuities; and they sailed henceforth under their own flag, in the

storms he had fitted them to navigate. These were men who had resolved

to use the revolutionary axe for cutting out their own private fortunes,

and, little interesting themselves about the political principles which

divided the other parties of the state, they kept firm hold of all the

subordinate machinery despised by the others in the abstraction of

metaphysical speculation, but which gave them the exclusive command of

the physical force of the mob of Paris--Paris, the metropolis of France,

and the prison-house of her monarch.

FOOTNOTES:

[95] Mignet, tom. i., p. 89; Lacretelle, tom. vii., p. 185.

[96] Prudhomme, tom. i., p. 236; Thiers, tom. i., p. 135.

[97] In the beginning of the Revolution, when the mob executed their

pleasure on the individuals against whom their suspicions were directed,

the lamp-irons served for gibbets, and the lines by which the lamps, or

lanterns, were disposed across the street, were ready halters. Hence the

cry of "Les Aristocrates à la lanterne." The answer of the Abbé Maury is

well known. "Eh! mes amis, et quand vous m'auriez mis à la lanterne, est

ce que vous verriez plus clair?"--_Biog. Univ._--S.

[98] Mounier must be supposed to speak ironically, and in allusion, not

to his own opinions, but to Mirabeau's revolutionary tenets. Another

account of this singular conversation states his answer to have been,

"All the better. If the mob kill all of us--remark, I say _all_ of us,

it will be the better for the country."--S.--THIERS, tom. i., p. 138.

[99] Prudhomme, tom. i., p. 257.

[100] "In the gallery a crowd of fish women were assembled under the

guidance of one virago with stentorian lungs, who called to the deputies

familiarly by name, and insisted that their favourite Mirabeau should

speak."--DUMONT, p. 181.

[101] Mignet, tom. i., p. 92.

[102] This was proposed by that Marquis de Favras, whose death upon the

gallows, [Feb. 19, 1790,] for a Royalist plot, gave afterwards such

exquisite delight to the citizens of Paris. Being the first man of

quality whom they had seen hanged, (that punishment having been hitherto

reserved for plebeians,) they encored the performance, and would fain

have hung him up a second time. The same unfortunate gentleman had

previously proposed to secure the bridge at Sevres with a body of

cavalry, which would have prevented the women from advancing to

Versailles. The Queen signed an order for the horses with this

remarkable clause:--"To be used if the King's safety is endangered, but

in no danger which affects me only."--S.--"The secret of this intrigue

never was known; but I have no doubt Favras was one of those men who,

when employed as instruments, are led by vanity much further than their

principals intend."--DUMONT, p. 174.

[103] Lacretelle, tom. vii., p. 217.

[104] Rivarol, p. 300; Mignet, tom. i., p. 93.

[105] One of the most accredited calumnies against the unfortunate Marie

Antoinette pretends, that she was on this occasion surprised in the arms

of a paramour. Buonaparte is said to have mentioned this as a fact, upon

the authority of Madame Campan. [O'MEARA'S _Napoleon in Exile_, vol.

ii., p. 172.] We have now Madame Campan's own account, [Memoirs, vol.

ii. p. 78.] describing the conduct of the Queen on this dreadful

occasion as that of a heroine, and totally excluding the possibility of

the pretended anecdote. But let it be farther considered, under what

circumstances the Queen was placed--at two in the morning, retired to a

privacy liable to be interrupted (as it was) not only by the irruption

of the furious banditti who surrounded the palace, demanding her life,

but by the entrance of the King, or of others, in whom circumstances

might have rendered the intrusion duty; and let it then be judged,

whether the dangers of the moment, and the risk of discovery, would not

have prevented Messalina herself from choosing such a time for an

assignation.--S.

[106] The miscreant's real name was Jourdan, afterwards called

_Coupe-Tête_, distinguished in the massacres of Avignon. He gained his

bread by sitting as an academy-model to painters, and for that reason

cultivated his long beard. In the depositions before the Chatelet, he is

called _L'Homme à la barbe_--an epithet which might distinguish the ogre

or goblin of some ancient legend.--S.

[107] Lacretelle, tom. vii., p. 238.

[108] Thiers, tom. i., p. 182; Lacretelle, tom. vii., p. 241.

[109] Rivarol, p. 312; Campan, vol. ii., p. 81.

[110] Mémoires de Weber, vol. ii., p. 457.--S.

[111] "The Queen, on returning from the balcony, approached my mother,

and said to her, with stifled sobs, 'They are going to force the King

and me to Paris, with the heads of our body-guards carried before us, on

the point of their pikes.' Her prediction was accomplished."--M. DE

STAËL, vol. i., p. 344.

[112] It has been said that they were borne immediately before the royal

carriage; but this is an exaggeration where exaggeration is unnecessary.

These bloody trophies preceded the royal family a great way on the march

to Paris.--S.

[113] "Nous ne manquerons plus de pain; nous amenons le boulanger, la

boulangère, et le petit mitron!"--PRUDHOMME, tom. i., p. 244.

[114] Prudhomme, tom. i., p. 243.

[115] "The King said to the mayor, 'I come with pleasure to my good city

of Paris;' the Queen added, 'and with confidence.' The expression was

happy, but the event, alas! did not justify it."--M. DE STAËL, vol. i.,

p. 344.

[116] The Mayor of Paris, although such language must have sounded like

the most bitter irony, had no choice of words on the 6th October, 1789.

But if he seriously termed that "a glorious day," what could Bailli

complain of the studied insults and cruelties which he himself

sustained, when, in Oct. 1792, the same banditti of Paris, who forced

the King from Versailles, dragged himself to death, with every

circumstance of refined cruelty and protracted insult?--S.--It was not

on the 6th October, but the 17th July, three days after the capture of

the Bastile, that Bailli, on presenting Louis with the keys of Paris,

made use of this expression.--See Prudhomme, tom. i., p. 203.

[117] "As the arrival of the royal family was unexpected, very few

apartments were in a habitable state, and the Queen had been obliged to

get tent-beds put up for her children in the very room where she

received us; she apologized for it, and added, 'You know that I did not

expect to come here.' Her physiognomy was beautiful, but irritated; it

was not to be forgotten after having been seen."--M. DE STAËL, vol. i.,

p. 345.

[118] Lacretelle, tom. vii., p. 265.

[119] "On being informed of the King's determination to quit Versailles

for Paris, the Assembly hastily passed a resolution, that it was

inseparable from the King, and would accompany him to the

capital."--THIERS, tom. i., p. 182.

[120] See Richard the Third, act v., sc. iii.

[121] Barnave, as well as Mirabeau, the Republican as well as the

Orleanist, was heard to exclaim, "Courage, brave Parisians--liberty for

ever--fear nothing--we are for you!"--See _Mémoires de Ferrieres_, li.,

iv.--S.

[122] See the proceedings before the Chatelet.--S.--See also Thiers,

tom. i., p. 184; Lacretelle, tom. vii.; and M. de Staël, vol. i., p.

350.

Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, Volume I. · 第 5 / 19 章