THE MARCH ON VERSAILLES

DISORDERS IN THE PROVINCES

THE desire of the people for peace and for a return to law and order after the King’s visit to Paris on the 17th of July necessitated strenuous efforts on the part of the revolutionary leaders to fan up anew the flame of insurrection.  Often the task seemed almost hopeless, and Camille Desmoulins—now embarking on his sanguinary Discours de la Lanterne, in which the Parisians were incited to hang further victims—afterwards described to the Assembly the immense difficulty the agitators encountered in overcoming the disinclination of the people to continue the Revolution.  “ I reduce to three,” wrote Buzot later, “ the methods employed by the masters of France to lead this nation to the point she has now reached—calumny, corruption, and terror,”[1] and though in these words Buzot alluded to the men who afterwards became his enemies, the Terrorists, they might still more aptly be applied to his former colleagues, the members of the Orléaniste conspiracy.[2]

Calumny directed against the victims, corruption of the instruments, and terror created in the minds of the people—such is the history of the three months that led up to the march on Versailles.

Of these three methods terror proved the most potent ;  in order to rouse the people one must begin by frightening them.  It was Adrien Duport,[3] one of the most inventive members of the Club Breton, who devised the project known to contemporaries as “ the Great Fear,” a scheme which consisted in sending messengers to all the towns and villages of France to announce the approach of imaginary brigands, Austrians or English, who were arriving to massacre the citizens.

On the same day, the 28th of July, and almost at the same hour, this diabolical manœuvre was repeated all over France ;  everywhere the panic-stricken peasants flew to arms, and thus the great aim of the revolutionary leaders was realized—the arming of the entire population against law and order.[4]

By this means anarchy was complete throughout the kingdom, and the crimes of July 14 and 22 in Paris were followed in the provinces by atrocities too revolting to describe.  This Reign of Terror, organized by the Orléanistes, was, in fact, even more frightful than the Terror of Robespierre four years later ;  the victims were arraigned before no Revolutionary Tribunal, received no warning of their fate, but suddenly found themselves the centre of a raging mob, accused of crimes they had never committed, reproached for words they had never uttered, and put finally to a death even more horrible than the guillotine.

In no case, however, do we find these outrages to be the spontaneous work of the people ;  the conception of downtrodden peasants rising incontrollably to overthrow their oppressors, as in the earlier jacqueries, is entirely mythical, and exists in the minds of no contemporaries.  Such violence as the people committed was invariably instigated by revolutionary emissaries who persuaded them to act under a misapprehension, and methods of diabolical ingenuity were employed to overcome their reluctance.  Thus, for example, the agitators, taking advantage of the King’s benevolent proclamations in favour of reform, succeeded in making the peasants believe that Louis XVI. wished to take part with them against the noblesse, and to invoke their aid in demolishing the Old Régime.  Messengers were sent into the towns and villages bearing placards or proclaiming by word of mouth :  “ The King orders all châteaux to be burnt down ;  he only wishes to keep his own ! ” and such was the amazing credulity of the country people that they set forth to burn and destroy, believing in all good faith that they were carrying out the orders of “ not’ bon roi.”[5]

When, however, the people proved recalcitrant, the revolutionaries were obliged to resort to force ;  in Dauphiné in Burgundy, in Franche Comté, real bands of brigands were employed to stir up the villagers, who in some cases offered a spirited resistance.  “ This troop of maniacs went into all the villages, rang the bells to collect the inhabitants, and forced them with a pistol at their throats to join in their brigandage. . . . This army of bandits threw the whole of Burgundy into consternation, where the bravest inhabitants of the towns and country places united all their efforts and advanced against these common enemies of the human race, who breathed only murder and pillage.”[6]  At Cluny the peasants, led by the monks to whom they were devoted, received the brigands with guns and cannonfire and with stones flung from the windows.  “ They did not allow a single brigand to escape, they were all killed or led away as prisoners to the royal prison.  They were found in possession of printed forms :  ‘ By order of the King.’  This document gave instructions to burn down the abbeys and châteaux because the seigneurs and the abbots were monopolizers of grain and poisoners of the wells, and intended to reduce the people and the subjects of the King to the lowest pitch of misery.”[7]

At St. Germain the brigands unfortunately won the day, and the inhabitants sent a deputation to the Assembly protesting against the murder of their mayor, Sauvage, guiltless of any offence, the victim of “ a crowd of strangers who had thrown themselves upon the town ” and torn the unhappy man from the hands of his fellow-citizens.[8]  The mayor of St. Denis, Châtel, met with a still more terrible fate.  Throughout the preceding winter he had been seen “ always surrounded by the unfortunate, to whom he gave free orders for bread and meat and wood . . . so that the inhabitants of St. Denis called him ‘ the father and the saviour of the poor people.’ ”  But suddenly Châtel found himself accused by messengers from Paris of monopolizing grain, and was put to a lingering death of which the details are so unspeakably revolting that it is impossible to describe them.[9]  Huez, the mayor of Troyes, another “ benefactor of the poor,” was also butchered in much the same manner.  It will be seen, therefore, that the aristocrats and clergy were not the only victims pointed out for vengeance to the people :  the law-abiding bourgeois, the benevolent citizen, whatever his rank, was equally abhorrent to the revolutionary leaders ;  the houses of peasants who would not join in excesses were burnt likewise.[10]  It was not a case of “ misdirected popular fury,” but of a definite system pursued by the agitators which consisted in exterminating every one who encouraged contentment with the Old Régime.  Three years later the minister, Roland, gave the clue to this design when he stated that “ in 1789 the misguided people allowed themselves to be worked up into fury and to immolate the men who were occupied in feeding them.”[11]  The massacre of these good citizens is therefore to be explained in the same way as the attacks on Réveillon and Berthier.

So obvious was it, indeed, to all contemporaries that these outrages were contrary to the interests of the people, that revolutionary writers can only explain them by the theory that they were instigated by the “ enemies of the Revolution,” that is to say, by the aristocrats themselves, who, in order to bring the cause of “ liberty ” into disrepute, stirred the people up to violence, and for this purpose had their own châteaux burnt down ![12]  But if the object of the aristocrats in persuading the people to burn down their châteaux appears incomprehensible, the object of the revolutionary leaders in doing so is very obvious, for by this means not only were the nobles driven out of the country, but in the process of destruction the seigneurial granaries were frequently burnt down likewise, fields of standing corn were trampled under foot, and consequently the famine was seriously aggravated.[13]

The manner in which the news of all such excesses was received at the National Assembly proves only too clearly the collusion between the revolutionary deputies and the agitators of the provinces.  No historian has revealed this more clearly than Taine, and his strange inconsequence in heading his chapter on the disorders in the provinces as “ spontaneous anarchy ” has been commented on by several modern French historians.[14]

“ Thus,” writes Taine himself, “ is rural ‘ jacquerie ’ prepared, and the fanatics who fanned up the flame in Paris fan it up likewise in the provinces.  ‘ You wish to know the authors of the troubles,’ writes a man of good sense to the Committee of Inquiry ;  ‘ you will find them amongst the deputies of the Tiers, and particularly amongst those who are attorneys or lawyers.  They write incendiary letters to their constituents, these letters are received by the municipalities which are likewise composed of attorneys and lawyers . . . they are read aloud in the principal square, and copies are sent into all the villages.’ ”[15]

“ I will tell my century, I will tell posterity,” cries Ferrières, “ that the National Assembly authorized these murders and these burnings ! ”[16]

In vain the true democrats in the Assembly—Mounier, Malouet, Lally Tollendal, Virieu, and Boufflers—rose to protest against outrages on humanity and civilization committed in the name of liberty ;  the members of the revolutionary factions in every case defended these excesses.

On July 20 Lally, in harrowing terms, described the horrors that were taking place in Normandy, Brittany, and Burgundy, and ended with the words :  “ A citizen king forces us to accept our liberty, and I do not know why we should wrest it from him as from a tyrant.  If I insist on the motion I have put forward, it is that love of my country impels me, it is that I accede to the impulse of my conscience ;  and if blood must flow, at least I wash my hands of that which will be shed.”[17]

The speech was received with cries of fury from all parts of the Assembly, though the side of the nobles ventured to applaud.

The murder of Foullon and Berthier had filled Lally with burning indignation.  On the morning of the 22nd of July, he told the Assembly, the son of Berthier, pale and disfigured, had entered his room crying out, “ Monsieur, you spent fifteen years defending the memory of your father ;  save the life of mine and let him be given judges ! ”  But Lally appealed in vain to the humanity of the Assembly.  Barnave, rising furiously, exclaimed with a violent gesture, “ Is this blood then so pure that one need fear to shed it ? ”[18]

Mirabeau went further.  “ The nation,” he declared, “ must have victims ! ”  In a letter to his constituents he had openly defended the crimes attending the siege of the Bastille :  “ The people must be essentially kind-hearted since so little blood has been shed. . . . The anger of the people ! ah ! if the anger of the people is terrible, the cold-bloodedness of despotism is atrocious ;  its systematic cruelties create more wretchedness in a day than popular insurrections create victims in the course of years.”[19]

The unhappy people of France had yet to learn that demagogy can be systematic too ;  that demagogy, moreover, can become more potent than despotism, because it does not merely bring external force to bear upon the people, but like a skilful jiujitsu wrestler turns the people’s own power against themselves.  This was the whole secret of the early revolutionary movement the people, by calumny, corruption, and terror, were made to work out their own destruction, to kill their best friends, and to strike down the hands that fed them.

THE WORK OF REFORM

In Paris, as in the provinces, a great fear held all hearts in its grip.  “ The anarchy is most compleat,” wrote Lord Auckland on August 27 ;  “ the people have renounced every idea and principle of subordination ... even the industry of the labouring class is interrupted and suspended . . . in short, it is sufficient to walk into the streets and to look at the faces of those who pass to see that there is a general impression of Calamity and Terror.”[20]

“ The National Assembly,” Fersen wrote a week later, “ trembles before Paris, and Paris trembles before 40,000 to 50,000 bandits and vagabonds encamped at Montmartre and in the Palais Royal.”[21]

In the midst of these alarms the Royalist Democrats of the Assembly struggled bravely on with the work of reform.  Already the foundations of the Constitution had been laid at the Séance Royale of the 23rd of June ;  it only remained for the nobility and clergy to complete the scheme the King had inaugurated by surrendering their seigneurial rights.

Now “ the people ” of France are by nature retentive of their possessions, and were therefore not disposed to believe that any class enjoying privileges would voluntarily renounce them.  The great scheme of the revolutionary leaders from the beginning of the Revolution had been to play on this conviction.[22]  In the cahiers drafted by Laclos and Sieyès the “ privileged classes ” were persistently represented as opposed to reform, and later the disorders in the provinces were instigated by the same propaganda.

The moment had now come to bring off the great coup of the revolutionaries and show the nobility and the clergy to the people as their declared enemies.  This was to consist in proposing to the Assembly to abolish at a sweep the entire feudal system.  The privileged orders would be sure to protest, and a further triumph would thus be provided for the Orléaniste cause.  What a signal for fresh insurrections in the provinces if it could be proclaimed to the people that the nobles and clergy had formally refused to relinquish their privileges !  On the other hand, if the “ privileged orders ” capitulated the Orléanistes would still score a victory, for, as I have shown, the weakening of the noblesse was an essential part of their scheme for making the Duc d’Orléans a monarch à la Louis XIV.  “ Thus,” says Montjoie, “ d’Orléans on coming to reign would find no longer those provincial states, those sovereign courts, that clergy, that noblesse . . . which formed a tribunate between the King and his subjects ... there would be in France only one master and a people without protectors.” [23]

Even the Republican Gouverneur Morris clearly recognized this danger when he urged Lafayette “ to preserve if possible some constitutional authority to the body of the nobles as the only means of preserving any liberty for the people.”

The Orléanistes, of course, had no intention of giving liberty to the people, and so the destruction of both nobility and clergy was necessary to their designs.  Accordingly, at a meeting of the Club Breton,[24] it was decided that the Vicomte de Noailles, a penniless member of the nobility and an ardent supporter of the Duc d’Orléans, should propose to the Assembly the complete abolition of seigneurial rights.

The plan was carried out on the evening of the 4th of August, but to their eternal honour the nobility and clergy of France rose as one man to renounce all their ancient privileges—seigneurial justice, dimes, the rights of the chase, and all those feudal dues the loss of which reduced many landed proprietors to beggary.

At the end of the sitting Lally Tollendal rose to remind the Assembly that it was the King who had first set them the example of self-sacrifice by the surrender of his rights, and to propose that “ Louis XVI. should now be proclaimed the Restorer of French liberty.”[25]  This time the eloquence of Lally carried all before him ;  the proposal was instantly taken up by both deputies and people ;  for a quarter of an hour the hall of the Assembly rang with shouts of “ Vive le Roi !  Vive Louis XVI, restaurateur de la liberté française ! ”

The decision was conveyed to the King in an address from the Assembly, and Louis XVI., in accepting the title of honour conferred on him, declared his sympathy with the new reforms “ Your wisdom and your intentions inspire me with the greatest confidence in the result of your deliberations.  Let us go and pray Heaven to guide us, and render thanks to Him for the generous feelings that prevail in the Assembly.”[26]  The last obstacle to the work of reform had now been removed, and nothing remained but to frame the Constitution in accordance with the wishes of the King, nobles, clergy, and people.

On July 27 the Royalist Democrat, Clermont Tonnerre, had presented to the Assembly the “ Declaration of the Rights of Man,”[27] and by this charter and the résumés of the cahiers the wording of the Constitution was to be framed.  Now, on August 27, Mounier, in the name of the Committee of the Constitution, came forward with an improved plan by the Archbishop of Bordeaux.[28]  It will be seen, therefore, that the Royalist Democrats were again the leaders of reform and rightly earned the name they bore later of “ the Constitutionals,” whilst on the other hand we have only to consult the Moniteur to find that in the debates that took place on the subject of the Constitution the revolutionary leaders in the Assembly were conspicuous by their silence.  The thunderous eloquence of Mirabeau, the biting irony of Robespierre, so potent to destroy, ceased directly the work of reconstruction began.  True, the Abbé Sieyès, that “ dark horse ” of the Assembly—now Royalist, now Republican, and all the while the intime of the Orléanistes—had taken part in framing the Constitution, but when it came to renouncing his own privileges Sieyès showed the worth of his Liberalism and openly opposed the abolition of the dimes,[29] whilst the Arch-bishop of Paris, hissed by the mob as an aristocrat, came forward at the head of the clergy to renounce them.[30]  The history of the Revolution is full of these little ironies.

It now became evident to the revolutionary leaders that the tide was turning irresistibly against them ;  during the discussion on the Constitution the existence neither of the monarchy nor of the reigning dynasty had been brought into dispute—for, so far, no one dared to differ from the unanimous demands of the cahiers—and it was plain that not only the monarchists but Louis Seizistes were leading the House.  “ Louis XVI.,” a deputy had declared, “ is no longer on the throne by accident of birth ;  he is there by the choice of the nation.”[31]

To both Orléanistes and Subversives the future, therefore, looked very black indeed ;  at this rate France would be regenerated without further convulsions, and both monarchy and reigning dynasty established more firmly than ever.  From the Orléaniste point of view the Constitution would inevitably prove disastrous, for either it would stop the Revolution altogether, or, if they were able to continue it and bring about the desired change of dynasty, the Duc d’Orléans would have to content himself with becoming a Constitutional monarch—a position it would not amuse him in the least to occupy.  Some pretext must therefore be found immediately for creating fresh dissensions.  This was provided by the debate on the “ royal sanction ” which began on August 29 and turned on the questions :  “ Should the King be allowed to retain the right of the ‘ Veto ’ ?  If so, should the ‘ Veto ’ be ‘ absolute ’ or ‘ suspensive ’—in other words, should the King be able absolutely to ‘ veto ’ the promulgation of a law or merely to suspend its promulgation until a later date ? ”

Undoubtedly the Royal Veto was a relic of autocracy, and as such might reasonably be condemned by independent democratic thinkers, but, as several deputies immediately pointed out, the question was one on which the Assembly had no power to deliberate, since “ the royal sanction had been demanded by the people in the cahiers.”[32]

“ The law was made by the nation,” said D’Espréménil, “ we have only to declare it.”[33]

Thus spoke the spirit of pure democracy.

The Royalist Democrats, true to their cahiers as to their King, therefore unanimously supported the royal sanction.  “ I regard the royal sanction,” declared Lally Tollendal, “ as one of the first ramparts of national liberty.”[34]  “ I would defend it,” he said again, “ to my last breath, less for the King than for the people.”[35]

Here, then, was the pretext needed by the revolutionary leaders for once more stirring up insurrection, and agitators were sent into the clubs and cafés of Paris to tell the citizens that “ traitors in the Assembly had voted for the absolute Veto of the King, who would now revoke all the decrees of August the 4th and France would be again enslaved.”[36]

They were careful, however, not to mention to the people that several of the Orléaniste deputies, including Mirabeau himself—acting presumably in the interests of the duke—had voted for the absolute Veto.[37]  The Royalist Democrats alone, and not the Royalists who opposed reform, were represented to the people as their enemies.  Playfair is one of the few English contemporaries who have commented on this significant fact :  “ Perhaps the thing that may the most convince impartial men of the existence of a criminal plot is, that the moderate party of the reformers in the Assembly, that is those who were royalists, but had obtained popular favour by their eloquence and love of liberty, were those whom the party in power, the Lameths, Barnave, Mirabeau, etc., turned against with the greatest fury.  Mounier, the Count de Lally Tollendal, and upwards of forty more of the moderate party, received anonymous letters threatening their lives.... This would seem to be proof that the reigning party were more afraid of the men who were attached to liberty than of the pure royalists, as the personal characters of the former left no hopes of leading them over to the violent measures in view.”[38]

So again we find the revolutionary movement diametrically opposed to the work of reform.  Let any one who challenges this statement explain the following circumstance :  the plan of the Constitution founded on the Declaration of the Rights of Man—universally agreed to be the purest expression of democracy—was given to the Assembly by the Royalist Democrats on August 28, and two days later a price was set on the heads of all these men by the revolutionaries at the Palais Royal.[39]  Mounier, who from the first had shown himself the most intrepid champion of liberty—Mounier who in an excess of democratic zeal had proposed the oath of the Tennis Court, and to whom more than to any one the principles of the Constitution were due—was now held up to popular execration, and from this moment his life was perpetually threatened.[40]  Could there be any explanation but the one offered by Mounier himself—that the whole agitation was a plot to prevent the framing of the Constitution ? [41]

FIRST ATTEMPT TO MARCH ON VERSAILLES

By the usual methods of calumny and terror the mind of the populace was once more stirred up, and a panic on the subject of the Veto spread through Paris.  The fact that to many of the people the Latin word conveyed no meaning whatever greatly facilitated the work of the agitators.  “ Do you know what the Veto is ? ” they cried out at the street corners.  “ Listen, then.  You go home and your wife has prepared your dinner, then the King says ‘ Veto ! ’ and you get nothing to eat ! ” [42]

The “ suspensive Veto,” a peasant told Bertrand de Molleville, was the right of the King to suspend, i.e. to hang, any one he pleased.  Some people, indeed, believed the Veto to be alive :  “ What is he, this Veto ?  What has he done, this brigand Veto ? ” [43]

By the evening of Sunday, August 30, the garden of the Palais Royal had become once more a raging sea ;  so immense was the crowd that it overflowed into the surrounding houses ;  the windows and the very roofs were packed with people.  Suddenly from a window of the Café de Foy there shot forth the shoulders and shaggy black head of Camille Desmoulins, who shouted excitedly to the assembled multitude :

“ Messieurs, I have just received a letter from Versailles telling me that the life of the Comte de Mirabeau is no longer safe, and it is for the defence of our liberty that he is exposed to danger ! ” [44]

The panic news was passed from mouth to mouth—“ Mirabeau has paid with his life-blood his attachment to the cause of the people”—“ Mirabeau has been stabbed to the heart—no, poisoned ”—a letter from Mirabeau himself warned the people that the country was in danger, that fourteen men had betrayed their cause.[45]

These tidings drove the crowd into a frenzy of alarm, and thus the ridiculous situation was created of a vast multitude inveighing against the Veto and at the same time stricken with panic for the safety of its chief supporter—Mirabeau ! “ The people,” remarks Bailly, “ did not as yet know their lesson.”[46]

It was now that the Orléanistes saw their opportunity for launching their great scheme of a march on Versailles.  If the King persisted in retaining his popularity with the people by giving into their demands and continuing to favour reforms, it was idle to hope that the people would rise against him.  The remoteness of Versailles from the centre of agitation added greatly to the glamour that surrounded the person of the King ;  shut in behind the gilded barriers and the dim red walls of the great château of the Roi Soleil, Louis XVI. still retained to some degree the character of a sacred being, whose infrequent appearance in public inspired the great mass of the people with wondering awe.  But if Louis XVI. could be brought to Paris to become the object of everyday contemplation by the multitude, the halo might be expected to fall from his head.  At the palace of the Tuileries, close to the Palais Royal, the revolutionary leaders would have him in their power,[47] and the populace they held at their command could be trained to degrade the Royal Family in the eyes of the still loyal people.

Accordingly it was announced at the Palais Royal that in order to save the country from the horrors of the Veto, and to ensure the safety of Mirabeau, a deputation must be sent to the Assembly to insist that the King and the Dauphin should be brought to Paris.  Camille Desmoulins shrieked that the Queen must be imprisoned at St. Cyr and that the deputation should consist of 15,000 armed men.  At the same time threatening messages were despatched to the President of the Assembly, the bishop of Langres ;  one signed by St. Huruge ran thus :  “ The Patriotic Assembly of the Palais Royal have the honour to inform you that if that portion of the aristocracy, composed of a party in the clergy, a party in the noblesse, and 120 members of the Commons, ignorant and corrupt, continue to disturb harmony and to demand the ‘ absolute sanction,’ 15,000 men are ready to light up their houses and châteaux, and yours in particular, Monsieur, and to inflict on the deputies who betray their country the fate of Foullon and of Berthier.” [48]

The authorship of these two murders was thus clearly revealed.  But the number of insurgents promised by the leaders was not forthcoming, and at ten o’clock in the evening St. Huruge, armed with the petition, set forth at the head of only 1500 unarmed men for Versailles.  The aspect of their leader was terrible enough to inspire his followers with courage—a massive figure surmounted by a huge red face, eyes of extraordinary audacity flaming forth from under a thick black wig, St. Huruge appeared the very incarnation of the revolutionary spirit.[49]

But the daring of St. Huruge, like the daring of Danton, was more apparent than real ;  the first sight of danger reduced him to the utmost meekness.[50]  On this occasion danger of a very formidable kind confronted him—Lafayette, the great opponent of the Orléaniste conspiracy, was ready for him.  The procession having marched boldly down the Rue Saint-Honoré found their passage blocked by the National Guard, of which Lafayette was the commander, and being turned back they proceeded to march to the Hôtel de Ville, where Bailly and Lafayette himself were waiting to receive them.  The popular general had little difficulty in reducing St. Huruge to submission ;  perfectly docile and even “ contented ” he consented to retire from the scene, but for greater safety Lafayette imprisoned him in the Châtelet.

So ended this first attempt to march on Versailles.  But the project was not abandoned.  On the contrary, from this moment it was perpetually discussed, and a fresh pretext was sought for stirring up the people.

EVENTS AT VERSAILLES

When on the 18th of September the King made his reply to the demands of the Assembly requesting him to sanction the reforms of the 4th of August, it became evident that no opposition could be hoped for from the royal authority.  The King’s reply was both reasonable and sympathetic ;  in a long and detailed analysis he discussed each reform in turn, pointing out that certain articles were only the text for laws that the Assembly must frame.  He ended with the words :  “ Therefore I approve the greater number of these articles, and I will sanction them when they have been drawn up into laws.”

This conciliatory reply left the revolutionary leaders no further ground for agitation, and they contented themselves with insolently remarking that the King had not been asked to “ sanction ” the decrees of the Assembly but only to “ promulgate ” them.  Floods of rhetoric were then expended on the precise significance of the two words.  But as the King sensibly observed, how was it possible to “ promulgate ” laws that had not yet been framed ?  However, in order to pacify the contentious deputies, he finally yielded to their demands, and two days later, on August 28, accorded his “ acceptation pure and simple ” to the decrees of August 4.[51]

The Assembly then proceeded to discuss the embarrassment in the finances.  But here again the King showed his desire to relieve the situation by coming forward to offer all his silver plate to the nation, whilst at the same time the Queen sent 60,000 livres’ worth to the Mint.  The proposition met with immediate remonstrance from the Assembly, but the King persisted in his resolution.[52]

This was the moment chosen by Mirabeau for a tirade against “ the rich ”—“ the frightful gulf of bankruptcy must be filled,” he declared to the Assembly.  “ Well, then, here is the list of French proprietors.  Choose amongst the richest so as to sacrifice the fewest citizens. . . . Strike !  Immolate without pity those wretched victims ;  precipitate them into the abyss ;  it will close again ! . . . You shrink with horror ?  Inconsistent men !  Pusillanimous men ! ” [53]

The speech was received with “ almost convulsive applause ” by the Assembly.

Yet how was Mirabeau himself carrying out the principle of austere self-sacrifice ?  Camille Desmoulins will tell us.  On the 29th of September—exactly three days after Mirabeau’s tirade—Camille wrote these words :  “ I have been for a week at Versailles with Mirabeau.  We have become great friends ;  at least he calls me his dear friend.  At every moment he takes me by the hands, he thumps me, then he goes off to the Assembly, resumes his dignity as he enters the hall and works wonders, after which he comes back to dine with excellent company and sometimes with his mistress, and we drink excellent wine.  I feel that his too delicate fare and overloaded table corrupt me.  His claret and his maraschino have a virtue that I vainly seek to ignore, and I have all the difficulty in the world in resuming my republican [54] austerity and in detesting the aristocrats whose crime is to give these excellent dinners.  I prepare motions, and Mirabeau calls that initiating me into great affairs.  It seems to me that I ought to think myself happy when I remember my position at Guise. . . .”  Oh, people, these are your defenders !

It is said that only a few weeks before, Mirabeau, looking out of the window and seeing a crowd of poor people fighting at a baker’s shop for bread, uttered the cynical remark, “ That canaille there well deserves to have us for legislators ! ”  Like Danton he at least was frank, and no one would have been more amused than Mirabeau himself at the efforts of his biographers to represent him as a lofty idealist and lover of the people.

What was the truth about Mirabeau at this juncture when the march on Versailles was being planned in the councils of the Orléaniste leaders ?  Was he amongst them ?  His panegyrists have vainly endeavoured to absolve him from complicity, but contemporaries, even those who were his friends, are obliged to admit that he knew what was to take place even if he did not help to prepare the movement.

“ I am inclined to think,” says Dumont, “ that Mirabeau was in the secret of the events of the 5th and 6th of October.  . . . What I believe is, taking everything into consideration, supposing that the insurrection of Versailles was led by the agents of the Duc d’Orléans, that Laclos was too clever to confide everything to the indiscretion of Mirabeau, but that he had made sure of him conditionally. . . . It is impossible not to believe in some liaison between them.” [55]  This from the intime of Mirabeau is conclusive.  Camille Desmoulins, who at this date “ idolized ” Mirabeau, also gave away his friend later on :  “ Will any one make me believe that when I stayed at Versailles with Mirabeau immediately before the 6th of October . . . I saw nothing of the precursory movements of the 5th and 6th ?  Will any one make me believe that when I went to Mirabeau at the moment that he heard the Duc d’Orléans had started for London, his anger at seeing himself abandoned, his imprecations . . . made me conjecture nothing ? ”[56]

The plan of the conspirators was undoubtedly either to persuade the mob to march on Versailles and murder the King and Queen, or more probably to murder the Queen only and bring the King to Paris.  Of all this Mirabeau was evidently well aware—even if he was not one of the authors of the scheme—and it would seem that at moments the dreadful secret preyed on his mind.  Perhaps amidst the mire of his life some hereditary traditions of honour, some instincts of chivalry, had survived which made him shrink from the brutal crime of which a noble and beautiful woman was to be the chief victim, and at these moments he was almost tempted to abandon the sordid intrigue into which he had been drawn and throw himself into the worthier cause of defending his King against the designs of a usurper.  Yet if he did so, what reception would he meet with from the Court ?  The King and Queen, he well knew, regarded him with aversion.  Was it not possible, therefore, that by deserting the conspiracy he might simply become the enemy of Orléans and gain no favour with the King ?  Thus haunted with the horror of the thing he wished the King would find out for himself the tragedy that was impending.  Often at this time Mirabeau, in speaking of the Court to his friend La Marck, would ask uncontrollably, “ What are these people thinking of ?  Do they not see the abyss that is opening under their feet ? ”  Once in a violent outbreak of exasperation he cried out, “ All is lost ;  the King and Queen will perish—you will see it—and the populace will batter their corpses.”  And then, seeing the horror on the face of La Marck, he repeated, “ Yes, yes, their corpses will be battered—you do not understand sufficiently the danger of their position ;  it ought to be made known to them.”

But it had been made known to them, and by Lafayette himself in a letter to the Comte de St. Priest dated September 17.  On the 23rd, therefore, the King warned the Assembly of “ the threats of ill-disposed persons to march out of Paris with arms,” and of the measures he had taken for the protection of the deputies.  The Assembly, however, was already aware of the intention.  “ I repeat without fear of contradiction,” says Mounier, “ that every day the ministers received the most alarming information on this subject, and the King’s Guards were several times obliged to spend the night in readiness to mount their horses.”[57]

If under these circumstances a plan was formed by certain Royalists to convey the Royal Family to Metz or to some other place of safety, is it altogether surprising ?  That any such project existed has never yet been proved—the only evidence brought forward by the revolutionary writers being the rough copy of a letter from the Comte d’Estaing to the Queen[58] which fell into the hands of the conspirators—but even if the supposition were correct, what perfidy would this imply on the part of the Royalists ?  Why, if the lives of the King and Queen were daily threatened, should not their loyal supporters attempt to rescue them from their assassins ?  The scheme involved no design on the liberties of the nation, and the flight of the Royal Family to Metz would have been undertaken, like the flight to Varennes two years later, simply in self-defence.  At any rate, one undeniable fact remains—the plan was not attempted, the King and Queen of their own free will decided to stay at Versailles and face the danger.

THE BANQUET OF THE BODYGUARD

The municipality of Versailles, alarmed no less for the safety of the town than of the Royal Family, now decided, on the advice of the Comte d’Estaing, commander of the National Guard of Versailles, to request the King to summon another regiment as a reinforcement of the bodyguard, the Swiss dragoons and milice bourgeoise that at present constituted the garrison, and were held to be inadequate “ to resist the attack of 2000 armed men.”[59]  Accordingly the “ Régiment de Flandre “ was ordered to Versailles and arrived on September 23.  Immediately the conspirators set to work to corrupt the newly arrived troops, and women of the town were sent to distribute money, food, and wine amongst the soldiers,[60] and to exact from them the promise not to defend the King in case of insurrection.  “ One would not have supposed,” writes a revolutionary chronicler of the day, “ that it is to the vilest class of our prostitutes that we owe the happy event that brought the King to Paris and the consolation that the day of October the 5th was not more murderous.... The leaders of the people . . . sent to Versailles . . . in bands and by different routes three hundred of the prettiest street-walkers of the Palais Royal with money, instructions, and the promise of being disembowelled by the people if they did not carry out their mission faithfully.  It was these female deputies who, amidst the pleasures of love, obtained from the soldiers the patriotic oath which rendered their arms powerless before their fellow-citizens.” [61]

By the same means which had been employed to seduce the Gardes Françaises before the siege of the Bastille, the men of the Régiment de Flandre were now turned from their allegiance to the King, and as a sign of defection adopted the tricolour cockade.[62]

The loyal troops of the King saw all this with growing alarm, and resolved to bring the Flemish regiment back to its allegiance.  Now it was a time-honoured custom for the King’s bodyguard to entertain at supper any newly arrived regiment ;  accordingly the officers of the Régiment de Flandre were invited to a banquet at which a number of the Swiss Guards, the milice bourgeoise, and others were also present.  The theatre of the Château, lent by the King for the occasion, was brilliantly decorated, and lit by hundreds of candles ;  around a huge horse-shoe table the officers of the bodyguard and the officers of the Flemish regiment were seated alternately, and the bands of the two regiments played throughout the feast.  Were the faithful soldiers of the King to blame if they took this opportunity to revive the waning loyalty of their comrades ?  Were they to be reproached with treachery to the nation if under their influence the men of the Flemish regiment broke out into cries of “ Vive le Roi ! ”

When at this juncture the Royal Family entered the hall, the Queen leading Madame Royale by the hand, an officer of the bodyguard carrying the Dauphin in his arms, enthusiasm knew no bounds, and a storm of acclamation burst forth unrestrained.

To the minds of Frenchmen there was something intensely tragic in the sudden apparition of the little group over whose heads so terrible a storm was gathering, and at the sight of the Queen—a beautiful woman, a wife, a mother, whose life they knew was daily threatened—all the ancient chivalry of France awoke in them, and to a man they resolved to defend her.  The last touch of pathos was given by the band of the Régiment de Flandre with the air from “ Richard Cœur de Lion ” :

O !  Richard ! o mon Roi !  l’univers t’abandonne !

The selection was painfully apt ;  all the world was deserting the unhappy King, and with the passionate loyalty of their race the gallant bodyguard at this supreme moment mustered around him.  Men of both regiments sprang on to their chairs, waved their glasses aloft, and shouted themselves hoarse with cries of “ Vive le Roi !  Vive la Reine !  Vive le Dauphin ! ”

The scene was afterwards described by the revolutionaries as a “ drunken orgy ” ;  it is possible that both wine and music had gone to the heads of the revellers—is the fact altogether unprecedented in the annals of regimental dinners ?—but the fact implies no criminal intention towards the nation.

The occasion provided, however, the pretext for which the conspirators were waiting, and the story was immediately circulated in Versailles and carried to the Palais Royal—it is said by the Due d’Orléans himself [63]—that the officers of the bodyguard had refused to drink the health of the nation and had trampled under foot the “ national cockade.”  The accusation, emphatically denied by eye-witnesses of the scene,[64] rested on the evidence of one man alone, a certain Laurent Lecointre, cloth-seller and officer in the milice bourgeoise of Versailles, who was filled with rancour against the bodyguard because he had not been invited to the banquet,[65] and who was therefore not present.

The exact truth about the “ toast of the nation ” is impossible to discover, but from the evidence of the most reliable witnesses it appears that the health of the nation was not drunk because the toast was not a customary one, and so was not proposed on this or any former occasion.[66]  It was, therefore, not refused.

As to the incidents of the cockades, the officers of the bodyguard could not have torn off the national cockades and trampled on them, for the simple reason that they had not adopted them but were still wearing the white cockade.[67]  At the same time it seems that white cockades were distributed by the ladies of the Court to the Régiment de Flandre, and that voices were heard to exclaim, “ Long live the white cockade, it is the right one ! ”

But when we remember that the tricolour represented the colours of the Due d’Orléans, that it had become in reality not the “ national ” but the “ revolutionary cockade,” and was regarded amongst soldiers as the badge of desertion,[68] was it unnatural that those who desired the King’s cause to triumph over the designs of a usurper should have attempted to replace it by the royal emblem ?  If so, as Mounier points out, “ Where was the crime ?  What law obliged one at Versailles to wear the cockade of Paris ?  Why should one not have been allowed to prefer the colour that from all time had been that of our flag ?  Why, on a day that the Royal Family was threatened, should not all courageous men have rallied round this sign of fidelity ? ” [69]

A strange incident followed the banquet.  A chasseur of the Trois Évêchés was found by Miomandre, an officer of the Royal Turenne, sunk in despair, with his forehead resting on the hilt of his sword.  When asked what was his trouble he broke out into sobs and disjointed sentences in which the following words alone were audible :  “ That fine household of the King ... I am a great fool ... The monsters, what do they demand ? ... those rascals of a commander and D’Orléans ! ”  Then falling on his sword he attempted to take his life.  At this moment several of his comrades appeared on the scene, and hearing what had occurred one of them exclaimed, “ He is a good-for-nothing—we must get rid of him ! ”  Thereupon they kicked the wretched man to death “ as one would crush an insect.”[70]

It will be seen, then, how frightful were the consequences to any one who attempted to betray the designs of the conspirators, how potent was the Orléaniste “ terror ” that during the first stages of the Revolution held sway over the minds of men and sealed the lips of those who would have revealed the truth concerning the preparations for the insurrection of October 5.

PRELIMINARIES OF THE MARCH ON VERSAILLES

The story of the Guards’ “ orgy ” had served the purpose of rendering this loyal regiment odious to the people, but a further obstacle must be removed from their path if the conspirators were to succeed in their scheme of bringing the King to Paris.  “ It was necessary,” says Mounier, “ in order to execute their plan, to get rid of the King’s guards and of all those who would have defended his liberty.  They feared the courage of the Queen, and so she must be given over to the fury of the people.” [71]  Louis XVI., surrounded by his feeble and purblind ministers, was not to be feared ;  they had but to assure him that the people wished him to go to Paris and to Paris he would go.  But the Queen would see the plot and offer resistance.  “ The King,” said Mirabeau a year later, “ has only one man with him—that is his wife.” [72]

So by every species of calumny, by the circulation of the foulest libels, by every method the “ infernal genius ” of Laclos could devise,[73] popular rage was stirred up against the Queen at the Palais Royal and in the Faubourgs of Paris.  “ The Queen was at the head of a counter-revolution—the Queen was the sole cause of the disorder in the finances—the Queen had said that the happiest day of her life would be when she could wash her hands in the blood of the French,” that she “ would not mind being shut up in Paris, provided the walls of her prison were made of the bones of Frenchmen.”[74]  But the accusation that stirred most deeply the passions of the people was that the Queen was responsible for the scarcity of bread.  For, in spite of a magnificent harvest only six weeks earlier, the supplies of grain were again declared to be insufficient, the bakers’ shops were besieged, working-men waited all day to obtain a 4 lb. loaf and returned empty-handed to their starving families.

Hunger is apt to render one light-headed ;  under its dizzying spell many things seem possible that with a well-nourished brain one would recognize as absurd, and so the half-famished dwellers in the Faubourgs readily accepted the assurance that the King, the Queen, and the “ aristocrats ” were at the bottom of the trouble.  Gouverneur Morris thus describes an orator haranguing the people :  “ The substance of his discourse was :  ‘ Messieurs, we are in want of bread, and this is the reason—it is only three days since the King has had the suspensive Veto, and already the aristocrats have bought suspensions and sent the grain out of the kingdom.’  To this sensible and profound discourse his audience gave a hearty assent.  ‘ Ma foi !  he is right.  It is only that ! ’  Oh, rare !  These are the modern Athenians ! ”

But were these poor people altogether to blame for their credulity ?  Many of them could neither read nor write.  How were they to know that neither Court nor aristocrats had anything whatever to do with the circulation of grain at this crisis, since the whole question had been placed under the control of the “ Committee of Subsistences,” headed by the popular mayor, Bailly, who, helpless as ever before the manœuvres of the Orléanistes, vainly endeavoured to thwart the monopolizers ? [75]

The truth is that this famine, like the one that had threatened earlier in the year, was fictitious ;  the want of bread, as contemporaries of all parties agree, did not really exist, but was artificially produced in order to inflame the minds of the people against the Court and Government.[76]  This point, habitually overlooked by historians, gives the key to the whole movement of October 5.

Moreover, that this artificial famine was again the work of the Orléaniste conspiracy there can be no doubt whatever, for apart from the statements of Montjoie, Rivarol, the Comte d’Hézecques, and Mounier, which all exactly agree, we have that of Bailly himself, and no one was in a better position than the mayor to judge of the real state of affairs, nor was any man less likely to defend the Court against the accusation of a plot if any such had existed.  Who were the authors of the plot Bailly, however, indicates very clearly :  “ The parties who sought to bring about an insurrection, well realizing that there was no finer opportunity than the want of supplies, made every effort to make an unequal division either by pillaging our convoys without (the city) or taking them by force from the bakers within, or else by cornering the bread so that one should have too much and the other go without, or in purposely placing amongst the crowd assembled at the bakers’ doors strong men who could ill-treat and injure the weak so as to make the people complain.  When I passed in front of one of these shops and saw this crowd, my heart was torn, and I can still hardly see a baker’s shop without emotion.”[77]  A further method employed by the agitators was to tell the people that the flour was bad, and as much of that which was now on the markets came from abroad, and differed in colour and flavour from the home-grown variety, this story was readily believed, and the people were persuaded to rip up the sacks, dispersing the contents.  No less than 2000 sackfuls were thrown into the Seine.[78]  These diabolical methods had the desired effect of denuding the markets and driving the poor of Paris to desperation.

Meanwhile the agitators were hard at work.  In the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, Santerre and the orator Gonchon, whose red and blotchy countenance rivalled in hideosity that of Danton or of St. Huruge, stirred up insurrection.[79]  At the Palais Royal, on Sunday, October 4, “ Danton roared his denunciations,” and “ Marat made as much noise as the four trumpets on the Day of Judgment.”  It was now that the morrow’s march on Versailles was publicly announced on the pretext of “ the scarcity of bread, the desire of avenging the national cockade, and of bringing the King to Paris.” [80]

By these means the movement, like the one that had preceded the siege of the Bastille, was made to appear spontaneous—an uncontrollable rising of the people that the leaders were powerless to subdue.  But at the Duc d’Orleans’ house in Passy [81] the march had already been planned, and the elements of which the mob was to be composed arranged by the conspirators.

“ If an insurrection were possible,” Mirabeau had said, “ it would only be in the event of women mingling in the movement and taking the lead.” [82]  Did the idea of a “ hunger march of women ” originate with Mirabeau ?  Or had he merely in one of his frequent moments of indiscretion given away the secret of his party ?  The truth will never be known, yet one thing is certain—the plan did not originate with the women, but was adopted for an excellent reason by the organizers of the expedition.

Now, the leaders of the revolutionary mobs were never fond of facing artillery or troops of whose defection they had not previously assured themselves, and at Versailles they well knew that not only the King’s faithful bodyguard awaited them, but also certain cannons which pointed threateningly at the Avenue de Paris, by which the procession must approach the Château.  If, however, a contingent of women could be induced to march first and form a screen between them and the troops, the rest of the army could safely advance with their artillery.[83]  The plan was well thought out, and the conspirators entertained no doubt that the women of Paris could be incited by the pangs of hunger to co-operate.  Accordingly supplies were now entirely cut off, and when the wet and windy morning of Monday the 5th of October dawned, the Faubourgs of Saint-Antoine and Saint-Marceau found themselves absolutely without bread.

THE 5TH OF OCTOBER

This was the signal for the insurrection to begin, and as early as six o’clock bands of rioters, led by harridans of ferocious aspect, started out to collect recruits.  Now, according to the history books that enlightened our youth, the women thus assembled and induced to march on Versailles were principally fishwives, ragged and dishevelled furies, endowed, like their counterparts in our own old Billingsgate, with a peculiar talent for invective.  Rivarol, however, in a passage which we shall find later on confirmed by unquestionable evidence, shatters this time-honoured legend.  “ The women who went from Paris to Versailles are always designated by the name of poissardes.  This is unfortunate for those who sell fish and fruit in the streets and markets ;  truth compels one to say that, far from joining forces with the sham poissardes who came to recruit them, they asked at the guard-house at the point of Saint-Eustache for help in driving them back.”[84]  Why, indeed, should the poissardes wish to march on Versailles ?  In the past the King and Queen had no more loyal subjects than the women whom the Old Régime courteously designated “ the Ladies of the Market.”  Was it not their privilege to present themselves before their Majesties and express in prose or verse their congratulations or condolences on every event of importance ?  Moreover, the gala dress of black silk and diamonds they wore on these occasions [85] proclaimed them to be no wretched victims of want and misery, such as we have seen depicted riding on the cannons to Versailles, but prosperous “ citizenesses ” who took a truly Parisian pride in their appearance.  What wonder, then, that the “ Ladies of the Market ” indignantly refused to join the motley crowd that had collected on the Place de Grève for the purposes of insurrection ?

Indeed, it was obvious to all onlookers that this crowd was not what it pretended to be—a gathering of hungry women driven by desperation to revolt.  “ The first women who presented themselves at the Hôtel de Ville were powdered, coiffées, and dressed in white, with an air of gaiety, and gave evidence of no evil intentions ;  gradually their numbers increased ;  some rang the tocsin, others laughed, sang, and danced in the courtyard,”[86] which proves, as Mounier says, “ that amongst these women a large number were not suffering from want, but were only sent to stir up the others.” [87]

Moreover, the aspect of certain of the harridans and so-called poissardes who led the movement struck observers as peculiar, for it was noticed that beneath ragged skirts there peeped forth trousers, that shaven chins appeared above muslin fichus, and that large heavily-shod feet presented an odd contrast to rouged and powdered faces.  In a word, it became apparent that a number of these “ hungry women ” were not women at all but men in women’s clothes,[88] and it was said that amongst them were recognized several of the Orléaniste leaders—Laclos, Chamfort, Latouche, Sillery, Barnave, and one of the Lameths [89]—whilst one “ monstrously fat ” poissarde was declared by the people to be the Duc d’Aiguillon.[90]  According to certain contemporaries these gentlemen—notably Laclos and Chamfort—were accompanied by their mistresses, and Taine adds that their number was swelled by a quantity of deserters from the Gardes Françaises with the women of the Palais Royal, to whom they acted as souteneurs, and from whom they may have borrowed their disguises.[91]

These, then, were the elements that formed the nucleus of the expedition, and it will therefore be understood why the first contingent of women presented so gay and prosperous an appearance.  But in order to give a popular air to the rising it was necessary to secure the co-operation of as many “ women of the people ” as could be induced to join the procession, accordingly shops, workrooms, and private houses were entered, and cooks, seamstresses, mothers of families were bribed or forced to follow—threatened with violence if they refused.  A washerwoman on the Seine described to the Chevalier d’Estrées the efforts made to enlist working-women in the movement.  “ What ! ” the Chevalier had said ironically to this woman on the 5th of October, “ you are not at Versailles ? ” to which the washerwoman indignantly replied, “ Monsieur le Chevalier, you are mistaken, like every one else, in imagining that it is laundresses and other women of the same kind who have gone to Versailles.  Some one certainly came to my boat and made the proposal to myself and my companions, and it was a woman who offered us six and twelve francs, but that woman is no more a woman than you are ;  I recognized her distinctly as a seigneur living at the Palais Royal or near it, whose valet I wash for.”[92]

But if the honest and industrious women of the people showed themselves unwilling, there lurked nevertheless a terrible element of violence in the underworld of Paris that even another century of civilization has never robbed of its ferocity, and that once its passions are aroused knows neither reason nor pity.  From this underworld there now poured forth bands of wastrels and degenerates, drink-sodden women clutching broomsticks, above all, street-walkers inflamed with the easily-roused passions of their kind, reckless, abandoned, shrieking foul invectives—all these assembled on the Place de Grève and proceeded to attack the Hôtel de Ville.  With a hail of stones they drove back the mounted guards defending the entrance, and battering down the doors swarmed into the building, pillaged the armoury, carried off two cannons, eight hundred guns, as well as munitions and silver, attempted to hang a luckless priest they discovered in the belfry, shouting the while, “ The men have no courage, they dare not take revenge !  We will act for them !  The representatives of the Commune are traitors and bad citizens, they deserve death, M. Bailly and Lafayette first of all—they must be hanged to the lantern.”

These imprecations again show very clearly the influences at work amongst the crowd, for both Bailly and Lafayette were the idols of the people, but had rendered themselves odious to the agitators—Bailly by his indefatigable efforts to provide the capital with bread, and Lafayette by his steady opposition to the Orléaniste conspiracy.  So once again we see the power of the mob turned against the people.

Meanwhile the men who had carried out the attack on the Bastille—known as the volontaires de la Bastille—were summoned and now arrived on the Place de Grève led by Maillard, who seized a drum, beat a roll-call, and invited the women to follow him to Versailles.  This heterogeneous army of women, of men in women’s clothes, and brigands from the Faubourgs, armed with pistols, scythes, pikes, and muskets, mustered in the Champs Élysées, and at one o’clock set forth for Versailles with Maillard at their head.  As usual, the organizers of the movement had been careful to expose themselves to no danger, those who joined in the procession prudently sheltering themselves behind petticoats from the possible fire of the King’s troops, whilst the men whose eloquence had stirred up popular agitation—Danton, Marat, Santerre, Camille Desmoulins, Gonchon—took no part in the day’s proceedings, but kept away altogether from the scene of action.[93]  The only prominent Orléanistes who ventured forth on this occasion without the safeguard of an incognito were Maillard, the “ Generalissimo of the Brigands,” and Théroigne de Méricourt, who now appeared on a black horse, dressed in a scarlet riding-habit and black hat, and escorted by a jockey in the same colours, which were the racing colours of the Duc d’Orléans.[94]

Again, as at the siege of the Bastille, it was mainly on a few obscure ruffians that the conspirators depended for the execution of their designs—Desnot, the “ cook out of place,” who had joined in the murder of De Launay and of Foullon, and Mathieu Jourdan, alias Jouve, in turn butcher, blacksmith, smuggler, and artist’s model—“ the man with the long beard ” of whom eye-witnesses speak shudderingly, and who on this famous day was to earn the name of “ Coupe-Tête.”

So in the wind and rain the ten-mile march to Versailles began, and if in this setting out we can detect no element of heroism as in the start for the Bastille, there is yet a poignant note of pathos to be found amongst the working-women dragged from their peaceful labours and forced to embark on the hazardous enterprise of which they could not dimly understand the purpose.  Several of these women—poor patient tools of the conspirators—afterwards described the methods employed to goad them onwards as, shivering in the cold drizzle, they started on the weary journey.  The imprecations of the sham poissardes against the Royal Family increased their disenchantment.  “ Yes, yes ! ” cried one of the furies, a notorious demi-mondaine, armed with a sword, “ we are going to Versailles to bring back the Queen’s head on the point of a sword.”  But the other women silenced her.[95]

Many of the crowd were bribed ;  barefooted women drew from their pockets six-écu pieces wrapped in paper, ragged men tossed gold and silver coins in the air, and the hope of further gain still drove them onwards. [96]  Others trudged patiently, lured by the promise of bread which the good King was to give them, and, indeed, amongst the marching multitude food was sorely needed.  By the time they reached Sèvres the pangs of hunger had become acute, and the terrified inhabitants having closed their shops and barricaded themselves behind doors and windows, the women flung themselves upon the restaurants, battered down the shutters, and after feasting on all the food and wine that lay at hand proceeded to Versailles, which they entered about four o’clock in the afternoon, shouting “ Vive le Roi ! ” tumultuously as they marched.[97]

Whilst these scenes had been taking place in Paris the calm of Versailles continued undisturbed.  Every one knows that the King went hunting, for no historian has forgotten to mention the fact, but few, if any, have remembered to add that he knew nothing whatever about the tumult in Paris.[98]  It was certainly known to many deputies of the Assembly, but no one seems to have thought it necessary to inform the King, and he was allowed to start for Meudon serenely unconscious of the coming danger.  Moreover, such was the detachment of “ the representatives of the people ” from the troubles of the capital that, whilst the revolutionary mob was mustering, they continued tranquilly discussing the new criminal code.

Mirabeau afterwards admitted that he was warned in the morning of “ the increasing agitation of the people,” and “ the nature of things ” told him that Paris was marching on Versailles, yet he had spent the afternoon with La Marck studying maps of Brabant.[99]  This confession, intended to prove his non-complicity with the movement, certainly testified to the amount of sympathy he entertained for the people.  The King’s apparent unconcern is therefore less singular than it has been made to appear.  But though the Assembly had omitted to tell the King of the disturbances in Paris, they had not forgotten to reiterate their demand for his sanction to the first principles of the Constitution and the Declaration of the Rights of Man.  Before starting for the hunt Louis XVI. sent his reply to this request.[100]

The principles of the Constitution he frankly admitted did not “ present indiscriminately to his mind the idea of perfection,” and could only be judged on their completion.  “If, however,” he added, “ they will fulfil the wishes of my people and assure the tranquillity of the kingdom, I accord, in conformity to your wishes, my consent to these articles, but on the express condition, from which I shall never depart, that in accordance with the result of your deliberations the executive power shall reside wholly with the monarch (ait son entier effet entre les mains du monarque).”  In other words, the King stipulated that he should not be called upon to renounce the Power accorded him by the Constitution itself.[101]

The Declaration of the Rights of Man he confessed that he found difficult to understand—doubtless it contained excellent maxims, but could only be “ justly appreciated when its real meaning had been defined by the laws to which it must serve as the basis.”

Louis XVI. was a disciple not of Rousseau but of Fenelon ;  the tangible needs of the people he could comprehend, but vague theorizing on equality and universal happiness simply bewildered him.

The King’s reply provoked a fresh outburst of fury from the revolutionary factions in the Assembly.  Robespierre declared it to be destructive of the Constitution, “ contrary to the rights of the nation ” ;  Pétion, taking advantage of the ensuing tumult, arose to denounce the banquet of the bodyguard.  Cries broke out on all sides—“ Orgies—threats—the patriotic cockade trampled underfoot.” [102]  The Orléanistes, Sillery, Mirabeau, the Lameths, called out in furious tones, “ The nation must have victims ! ” [103]  The Comte de Barbantane, seated in a tribune with Madame de Genlis and the two sons of the Duc d’Orléans—the Duc de Chartres and the Duc de Montpensier—cried threateningly, “ It is evident that these gentlemen want more lanterns ;  well, they shall have them ! ” and the voice of the Duc de Chartres was heard to add, “ Yes, yes, messieurs, we must have more lanterns ! ”

At this the Marquis de Raigecourt and the Marquis de Beauharnais rose indignantly exclaiming, “ It is abominable that any one should dare to express such sentiments here ! ” [104]

Monsieur de Monspey demanded that Pétion should substantiate his charges against the bodyguard, but Mirabeau interposed.  “ Let the Assembly declare that in France every one except the King is inviolable, and I will make the denunciation myself ! ” and turning to the deputies around him he added these terrible words :  “ I will denounce the Queen and the Duc de Guiche ! ”

Again a voice was heard from the tribune occupied by Madame de Genlis and the sons of the Duc d’Orléans :  “ What the Queen ? ”  And another voice in the same tribune replied, “ The Queen as much as any one else if she is guilty ! ” [105]

Whether Mounier heard these words or not it is evident that, like all other witnesses of the scene, he realized that Mirabeau’s declaration to the Assembly was directed against the Queen,[106] and might prove the signal for her assassination by the occupants of the gallery if the denunciation were proceeded with ;  accordingly he closed the discussion.

Mounier at this crisis had no further doubts as to Mirabeau’s complicity with the criminal plot against the Royal Family.  During the scene that had just taken place Mirabeau had left his seat, and going round to the President’s chair had whispered to Mounier under cover of the tumult :

“ Monsieur le Président, 40,000 men are arriving from Paris ;  hurry the discussion, close the sitting—be taken ill—say you are going to the King ! ”

“ And why, Monsieur ? ”

“ Here is a letter, M. le Président, announcing the arrival of 40,000 men from Paris.” [107]

“ All the more reason,” answered Mounier, “ for the Assembly to remain at its post.”

“ But, Monsieur le Président, you will be killed ! ”

“ So much the better,” Mounier said with bitter irony, “ if they kill us all, but all, you understand, without exception ;  public affairs will go the better (les affaires de la république en iront mieux).” [108]

“ Monsieur le Président, the phrase is neat (le mot est joli) ! ”  But whilst this dialogue was taking place the advance guard of “ women ” from Paris had marched down the Avenue de Paris that faces the Château of Versailles, and were now collected at the door of the Assembly clamouring for admittance.  Maillard, in a shabby black coat with a naked sword in his hand, at the head of twenty women, was permitted to enter, and at once began in furious tones to denounce the “ monopolizers of grain ”;  “ The aristocrats wish to make us die of hunger ;  to-day they have sent a miller a note of two hundred livres telling him not to grind.”

“ Name them !  Name them ! ” cried the Royalists of the Assembly.

But before this direct appeal both revolutionary deputies and delegates of the people were dumb.  At last Maillard, or according to other accounts the women, answered, “ It is the Archbishop of Paris ! ” [109]

At this monstrous calumny even the Assembly rose indignantly, and with one voice declared, “ The Archbishop of Paris is incapable of such an atrocity ! ” [110]

Maillard, once more urged by Mounier to substantiate his charges, could only murmur with an air of embarrassment that “ a lady he had met in a carriage on the road to Versailles ” had assured him of the fact.

To this, then, were the accusations of the revolutionary leaders against the “ aristocrats ” of monopolizing grain reduced !

In order to satisfy the demands of the women, the Assembly finally decided to send several of their number as a deputation to the King, who had now returned from the hunt.

Not until several bands of women and brigands (who had marched ahead of the revolutionary mob) were actually in Versailles had Louis XVI. been informed of the insurrection.  De Cubières, an equerry, rode out to Meudon with a note from the Comte de St. Priest ;  the King read it, and turning to his gentlemen said, “ Messieurs, Monsieur de St. Priest writes that the women of Paris are coming to ask me for bread.”  His eyes filled with tears.  “ Alas ! if I had any I should not wait for them to come and ask me for it.  Let us go and speak to them.”

Nothing was further from his mind than the idea of a hostile demonstration ;  it was to him, the father of his people, these “ hungry women ” had turned in their distress, and his only concern was to help them.

A stranger present, M. de la Devèze, seeing his emotion, mistook it for fear.  “ Sire, I beg your Majesty not to be afraid.”

“ Afraid, Monsieur ? ” the King answered proudly.  “ I have never been afraid in my life ! ” and mounting his horse he rode off to the Château at a gallop.  The Comte de Luxembourg was waiting for him and asked for orders to be given to the bodyguard.

“ Orders ? ” said the King with a laugh.  “ Orders of war against women ?  You must be joking, Monsieur de Luxembourg ! ”

The ruse of the Orléanistes had succeeded, and by the advance guard of so-called women the King’s defenders were disarmed.

From the windows of the Chambre de Conseil Louis XVI. looked out on the armed mob advancing through the wind and rain along the Avenue de Paris towards the Château ;  before long the Place des Armes had become a sea of pikes and muskets.  Amidst this raging multitude Mounier, at the head of his deputation, was advancing on foot through the mud, and during the quarter of an hour of waiting for admittance at the grille of the Château was obliged to endure the insults of the mob, who cried out that “ the deputies of the Assembly with their 18 francs a day enjoyed good cheer, whilst they allowed the poor to die of hunger ” ;  that “ when they had only one King they had bread, but since they had 1200 they perished in misery.” [111]

The deputation, consisting of six deputies with six women clinging to their arms, was increased by six more women before their admission to the Salle de Conseil.  Louis XVI. received them with his customary benevolence.

“ Sire,” said Louison Chabry, a pretty flower-seller of seventeen from the Palais Royal, “ we want bread.”

“ You know my heart,” answered the King ;  “ I will order all the bread in Versailles to be collected and given to you.”  Whereat Louison, overcome by the King’s goodness, fell fainting to the ground.  Smelling salts were brought ;  Louison revived and begged to be allowed to kiss the King’s hand.

“ She deserves better than that ! ” said Louis XVI., embracing her.

Louison departed with the other women, enchanted by their visit, crying out, “ Long live the King !  Long live our good King !  Now we shall have bread ! ”

But one of their number still displayed resentment.  The Chevalier de la Serre attempted to reason with her, pointing out that they had to do with a good King, a good father, that their condition greatly distressed him ;  but the woman replied, “ Our father is the Duc d’Orléans ! ”

Her companions interrupted her by repeating, “ Vive le Roi ! ”

“ Non, f. . . .,” she retorted, “ it is ‘ Vive le Duc d’Orléans ! ’ ”[112]

It is evident, therefore, that certain of the women had been primed by the Orléanistes, but the greater proportion were, as Ferrières says, “ acting in all good faith :  they did not know the plans of the conspirators.  Dragged by force to Versailles, hearing it incessantly repeated that the people were dying of hunger, and that the only way to stop the famine was by appealing to the King and the National Assembly, they thought they had achieved the object of their journey by obtaining a decree of the Assembly and getting it sanctioned by the King.” [113]  What, then, was their dismay when they returned triumphantly to the waiting multitude with the King’s promise to find themselves received by howls of execration :  “ They are cheats, they have been given money !  They have received no written order, they must be hanged ! ”  A fury in the crowd, tearing off her garter, dragged one of the women towards a lamp-post, and would have hanged her there had not an officer of the bodyguard rushed to her rescue and brought her with the rest of the deputation into safety, inside the Cour Royale.  These women then begged to be allowed to return to the King and ask for his order in writing, and the request having been granted they reappeared once more waving the royal signature aloft.  Their accounts of the King’s goodness had the effect of temporarily calming the excitement of the crowd ;  cries of “ Vive le Roi ! ” went up on all sides ;  for the moment the King’s defenders thought the situation saved.

The women who had formed the deputation, now realizing that they had been the dupes of the conspirators, insisted on returning to Paris in order to tell the Commune of their reception at Versailles, and Louis XVI., informed of their intention, ordered royal carriages to be provided for the journey.  Lest, however, too glowing an account of the King’s benevolence should be conveyed to Paris, Maillard was deputed by the leaders of the insurrection to accompany the women and counteract their influence.

In all probability, if the tumult had been, as it is habitually represented, the spontaneous rising of a hungry multitude driven by want to beg the King for bread, the matter would have ended there, and the people having accomplished their purpose would have returned peacefully to their homes.  But the conspirators had determined otherwise.

Immediately on the arrival of the armed mob every effort had been made to provoke a quarrel with the bodyguard, but these gallant men, true to their orders not to use force against the people, endured insults and threats without replying.  When at last a man of the Paris militia attempted, sword in hand, to break through the regiment, the Marquis de Savonnières, followed by three other officers, pursued the insurgent and struck him with the flat of his sword, but a shot fired by Charpentier of the Versailles militia broke the arm of Savonnières and inflicted injuries from which he died some weeks later.

This affray provided the signal for battle ;  on all sides the cry went up that the Guards were charging the people ;  the militia hastily advanced their cannons in the Avenue de Paris towards the grille of the Château, and the mob, closing around the bodyguard, attacked them with pikes and stones and fired into their ranks, fortunately with so little certainty of aim that the men escaped with slight injuries.  Still the bodyguard refrained from retaliation, and Lecointre—he who had denounced their “ orgy ” four days earlier—seeing this, and fearing that no pretext would be provided for further violence, rushed forward and overwhelmed them with reproaches.[114]  It was at this crisis that the King, informed of the cries of “ Vive le Roi ! ” and the momentary cessation of hostilities produced by the deputation of women, and concluding that peace was now restored, sent his fatal message to the bodyguard to retire.  The militia of Versailles, taking advantage of the movement, immediately opened a volley of musketry fire on the retreating troops, whilst brigands armed with guns and pikes pursued them with shots and blows.  It was said afterwards by the Orléanistes that the bodyguard now returned the fire of the insurgents and treated the people with harshness, thrusting them aside with their sabres, but of these acts only two eye-witnesses could be produced, the Orléaniste, De Liancourt,[115] and again Lecointre,[116] the inveterate enemy of the bodyguard who was brought forward at every turn by the conspirators to prove their charges against the King’s defenders.  On the other hand, reliable contemporaries speak only of the patience and forbearance of these gallant men who, in obedience to orders, refrained from using the weapons at their command.[117]  So once again the arm of law and order was paralysed, and the people who should have been protected were left to become the victims of the conspirators.

Whilst these scenes were taking place in the Place d’Armes, Mounier, imagining that reforms in the government would satisfy the multitude who were calling out for bread, continued to importune the King for his sanction to the principles of the Constitution and the Declaration of the Rights of Man.  Louis XVI., whose sound common sense showed him the absurdity of according the royal sanction to philosophical axioms, repeated his opinion that at this stage his acceptance would be premature, but, on the assurance of Mounier that nothing else would allay the tumult, finally appended his signature to the words :  “ I accept purely and simply the articles of the Constitution and the Declaration of the Rights of Man.”  Then, confident that he had done all that lay within his power to restore public tranquillity, he awaited events with calmness.  In response to the entreaties of the Comte d’Estaing that measures should be taken for the defence of the Château, he wrote at seven o’clock on this terrible evening, after the departure of Mounier and his fellow-deputies, these astounding words :

“ You wish, my cousin, that I should express my opinion on the critical circumstances in which I find myself, and that I should take a violent course, that I should make use of legitimate means of defence, or that I should leave Versailles.  Whatever may be the audacity of my enemies they will not succeed ;  the Frenchman is incapable of regicide.... I dare to believe that this danger is not as urgent as my friends are persuaded.  Flight would be my total undoing and civil war the disastrous result. ... Let us act with prudence.... If I succumb at least I shall have no cause to reproach myself.  I have just seen several members of the Assembly and I am satisfied.... God grant that public tranquillity may be restored—but no aggression, no action that could let it be believed that I think of avenging or even of defending myself.”

Meanwhile Mounier, returning triumphantly to the Assembly with the royal sanction, found the wildest scene of confusion taking place.  A mob of women,[118] of brigands, and of men in women’s clothes, had invaded the hall and taken possession of the seats of the deputies, where they regaled themselves with ham sandwiches, pies, and wine brought in from a neighbouring restaurant.  The brigands, ragged and of ferocious aspect, adopted a threatening attitude, but the filles de joie were enjoying themselves immensely.  It was a situation that appealed irresistibly to their mocking humour ;  true gamines of Paris, they found it exquisitely funny to chaff these solemn legislators and dance on the platform of the President, to overwhelm the unhappy bishop of Langres—occupying the President’s chair in the absence of Mounier—with obscene pleasantries.  “ Now you must kiss us, calotin ! ”  And the bishop, amidst screams of laughter, was obliged, sighing deeply, to submit to their vinous embraces.

Mounier, arriving in the midst of this pandemonium with his precious document, fondly imagined that the announcement of the “ royal sanction ” would act as oil upon the troubled waters, and profiting by a lull in the tumult read the King’s message aloud.  But to the women of Paris, as to the King himself, these vague formulas conveyed but little meaning, and Mounier’s announcement was greeted by the hungry elements amongst them with the cry, “ Will that give bread to the poor people of Paris ? ”

The President, realizing the impossibility of continuing the debate—most of the deputies indeed had already left the hall—broke up the Assembly.  But the women had no intention of being done out of their evening’s entertainment, and imperiously demanded the return of the deputies.  The President’s bell was rung, members were fetched from their beds, the Assembly resumed its sitting.  Once again the message containing the royal sanction was read aloud, only to be met with the same cry of “ Bread !  Give us bread ! ”

Nothing is more amazing in the history of the Revolution than the total inability of the “ representatives of the people ” to understand the people’s mind.  The King, appealed to by the hungry women, could readily enter into their sufferings, but the Assembly, in response to their cries for bread, offered them the foundation-stone of the Constitution.  For at this supreme moment these so-called democrats, actually surrounded by the clamouring multitude, calmly resumed their discussion on the criminal code.

It is hardly surprising that at this the indignation of the women broke out afresh, and the Assembly was peremptorily ordered to discuss the question of food-supply.  The voice of a deputy addressing the House was drowned by shouts of “ Bread !  bread ! not so many long speeches ! ” and “ Shut up that babbler.  It doesn’t matter about all that—it is bread that matters ! ”  Some of the women clamoured for Mirabeau, whose grotesque appearance amused them :  “ Where is our Comte de Mirabeau—our little mother Mirabeau ? ”  A man in the tribune next to the President exclaimed loudly that the deputies should concern themselves with the people.

At this Mirabeau, who had no intention of allowing the canaille to command, arose and thundered, “ I should like to know by what right any one should dictate to us the course of our debates ?  Let the tribunes remember the respect they owe to the National Assembly ! ”

The women, enchanted at this display of authority, noisily clapped their hands and cried “ Bravo ! ”

Whilst this tumult raged in the Assembly scenes far more terrible were taking place outside on the Place d’Armes.  The wild autumn day had faded into a wet and cheerless night, and the immense multitude, unable to find shelter, gathered round huge fires they had lit at intervals about the square, and at one of which a horse of the bodyguard, massacred in the fray, was being cooked and eaten.  On such a scene of misery and squalor did the great Château of the Roi Soleil look down that dreadful evening !  The women, wet to the skin, caked with mud after the long march from Paris, wandered round the courtyards sobbing pitifully, crying out that “ they had been forced to march and did not know what they had come for ” ;[119] others, savage with hunger and fatigue, danced round the bonfires shrieking furious imprecations against the Queen, Lafayette, Mounier, the Abbé Maury, the Archbishop of Paris.  “ Marie Antoinette has danced for her pleasure, now she shall dance for ours ! ”  “ Yes, let the jade skip, we will throw her head from the windows !  We will have the drunkard for our king no longer, it is the Duc d’Orléans that we must have for king ! ”

Thus the furies of the under-world, revolting enough in truth, but surely less revolting than the Duc d’Orléans, skulking through the crowd in the Avenue de Paris, “ endeavouring to escape detection but unable to flee from his conscience,” [120] less revolting far than the petticoated roues of the Palais Royal, stirring up a poor and hungry populace to commit crimes they dared not undertake themselves.  It was said by many witnesses, and never disproved by any conclusive alibi, that all through that fearful night, and again the following morning, the members of the conspiracy were at work distributing money and inciting the people to violence ;  that Mirabeau, brandishing a naked sword, was seen in the ranks of the Régiment de Flandre exhorting them to defection ;[121] that Théroigne in her scarlet habit went from group to group giving the names of deputies to be massacred, and distributing money done up in paper packets ;[122] that fine gentlemen in embroidered waistcoats “ slipped coins concealed in cockades into the hands of the women ”;[123] that Laclos, Sillery, Barnave, the Duc d’Aiguillon, dressed as women, were again recognized mingling with the crowd, fanning up the flame of popular fury in preparation for the massacres of the morrow.[124]

Suddenly at midnight, when the frenzy of the populace had reached its height, the roll of drums and the red glare of torches announced the arrival of Lafayette at the head of the Gardes Françaises in the Avenue de Paris.

How did Lafayette come to be leading this second army of insurgents to Versailles ?  The fact has provided Orléaniste writers with the pretext for shifting the blame of the insurrection on to their opponent, and it was precisely in order to be able to do this that they had contrived to implicate Lafayette in the movement.  As a matter of fact Lafayette had held out for hours against the entreaties of his men, who, prompted by the Orléanistes, insisted on his leading them to Versailles.  At the Hôtel de Ville that morning, whilst Lafayette was occupied in sending off despatches to warn Versailles of the approaching invasion, six grenadiers had entered and accosted him with these words :  “ General, we are deputed by six companies of grenadiers :  we do not think you are a traitor, but we think that the Government is betraying us.  It is time all this ended. . . . The people are wretched ;  the source of the evil is at Versailles ;  we must go to fetch the King and bring him to Paris ;  we must exterminate the Régiment de Flandre and the bodyguard who dare to trample on the national cockade.  If the King is too weak to wear his crown, let him renounce it.  We will crown his son, a council of regency will be nominated, and all will go well.”

As this was precisely the plan of the Orléaniste conspiracy Lafayette immediately realized that the men were merely repeating their lesson, and, recognizing the trap laid for him, he attempted to dissuade them from marching on Versailles.

“ What ! ” he said, “ you mean then to make war on the King and force him to abandon us ? ”  The use of the final pronoun is significant ;  even the Republican Lafayette was obliged in his more honest moments to admit that Louis XVI. was on the side of the people, and the soldiers, thus appealed to, momentarily forgot their lesson and readily concurred :

“ General, indeed we should be very sorry, for we love him well, but if he left us we have Monsieur le Dauphin.”

In vain Lafayette continued to remonstrate ;  the men once more took up the refrain :  “ The source of the evil is at Versailles ;  we must go and fetch the King and bring him to Paris ;  all the people wish it.”  Finally Lafayette went out on to the Place de Grève and, with Bailly, attempted to address the crowd collected there.  But the people, he had begun to discover, were easier to rouse than to pacify, and the spirit of insubordination he had openly encouraged at the beginning of the Revolution was now turning against himself.  In vain he strove to make himself heard ;  an angry uproar arose ;  one voice was heard above the others crying, “ It is strange that M. de Lafayette should wish to command the people when it is for the people to command him ! ”

Then Lafayette, reluctantly mounting his white charger, placed himself at the head of the troops, whose numbers were now being rapidly increased by the lowest rabble of the Faubourgs, which, armed with pikes and pitchforks, with cutlasses and hatchets, poured into the Place de Grève crying out, “ Bread ! bread !  To Versailles ! ”

At the sight of this terrible army Lafayette once again hesitated, and, seeing this, the crowd broke into fury ;  howls of rage, threats of death rose from a thousand throats ;  for the first time Lafayette, idol of the people, heard the voice of the people raised against himself.  At that he grew first red, then pale, made a movement as if he would dismount, but a dozen hands gripped his bridle :  “ No, General, you shall not escape us ! ”  While he temporized a message from the Commune was slipped into his hand ordering him to march.  Lafayette glanced at the paper, grew paler still, then gathered up his reins, and with a set countenance gave the word of command to march.  “ He rode at the head of his troops,” says Montjoie, “ like a criminal led to execution ”;  and that in all probability he was going to his death Lafayette well knew, but, bitterer thought still, this was to be death with dishonour !

So it came to pass that at midnight, after an eight hours’ march, Lafayette entered Versailles.  Calling a halt at the turning of the road leading to the National Assembly he demanded of his army to take the oath of fidelity to the nation, the law, and the King ;  then entering the Assembly filled with the drunken crowd he made his way through the turmoil to the President’s chair and assured Mounier that he could answer for the loyalty of his troops.

Although so exhausted that he was hardly able to drag himself up the staircase, Lafayette afterwards presented himself at the Château and administered the same soothing assurances.  “ I was without apprehension,” he wrote later ;  “ the people had promised me to remain quiet.”

But the Queen, who had no confidence in the benevolence of revolutionary mobs or in generals who marched at their heads, received Lafayette coldly.  She realized, as he with his foolish optimism could not, the frightful danger that confronted them that night.  “ I know,” she said, “ that they have come to demand my head, but I learnt from my mother not to fear death, and I can await it with calmness.”

All around her in the Château terror and confusion prevailed ;  women ran hither and thither, peeping forth fearfully from the windows at the dull glare beyond the railings, where by fire and torchlight that raging sea of humanity tossed tumultuously, listening with beating hearts to the hoarse murmurs, broken now and again with savage howls and fiendish laughter ;  others, helpless and distracted, paced the great Galerie des Glaces, the scene of so much splendour, and in all minds one question arose—was this night to be their last ?

Amidst these scenes Marie Antoinette alone was calm, and with undisturbed serenity continued to rouse the fainting spirits of those around her.  When a number of her gentlemen came to her door to beg for permission to order out the horses from the royal stables and mount them in defence of the Royal Family, the Queen returned only this reply :  “ I consent to give you the order for which you wish on the condition that if the life of the King is in danger you should make immediate use of it, but if I alone am imperilled you will not use it.”

Her women, realizing that she was the chief victim designated by the conspirators, threw themselves at her feet and begged her to escape.  “ No,” she answered, “ never, never will I abandon the King or my children ;  whatever fate awaits them, I will share it.”

Then dismissing her attendants she remained alone, waiting for death.  At this moment a note was brought to her ;  she opened it, and read these terrible words :  “ I warn her Majesty that she will be murdered to-morrow morning at six o’clock.”  She knew then that she had still six hours of life, and, placing the note in her pocket, quietly announced her intention of retiring to bed.  In vain her gentlemen begged to be allowed to remain and protect her.  “ No, Messieurs,” she answered without a trace of emotion, “ take your leave, I beg you ;  to-morrow will prove to you that you had need of rest to-night.”

With these words she left them and slept an untroubled sleep until the frightful dawn of the morrow.

THE 6TH OF OCTOBER

Lafayette, according to current report at this crisis, retired and slept also.  “ Il dormit contre son roi,” wrote Rivarol bitterly.  But did he really sleep ?  The truth will probably never be known.  Montjoie says no ;  Lafayette himself said that, worn out with fatigue, he went to the Hôtel de Noailles and was about to snatch a few hours of slumber when the tumult of the morrow recalled him to the Château.  But if he did sleep the fact must surely be attributed not to treachery but uncontrollable physical exhaustion, combined with the conviction that the Gardes Françaises were completely under his control and that further disturbance was impossible.

But the bodyguard, more alive to the danger, had refused on the assurances of Lafayette to leave the Château unprotected, and remained therefore throughout the night as sentries before the doors of the Royal Family.  For greater safety the Queen’s waiting-women, Madame Thibault and Madame Augué, seated themselves against the doors of her bedchamber, and by this devotion saved her life.

For nearly three hours all was calm :  the Queen slept in her great bedroom looking out on to the quiet Orangerie ;  the King slept in his facing the courtyards and the now deserted Place d’Armes ;  the crowd slept likewise, anywhere and everywhere—in sheds and stables, on the floors of outhouses and kitchens ;  eight or nine hundred spent the night on the benches of the Assembly.

But all night Luillier of the bodyguard, commander of the Scotch company, kept his watch, wandering around the Château and assuring himself that if the tumult began again the great gilded barriers would avail to keep out the raging populace.  Then towards dawn an unseen hand unlocked a gate in the railing, and immediately a band of women and armed men streamed through to the courtyards and the garden that lay beneath the Queen’s windows on the other side of the Château.

Luillier in consternation sought the Marquis d’Aguesseau, major of the bodyguard, and, encountering him at the foot of the great marble staircase leading to the Queen’s apartments, said, “Monsieur, the King and Royal Family are lost if the brigands now passing through the courtyards to the terrace penetrate into the Château.  I implore you to give positive orders.”

“ Place two sentinels at each of the gates,” answered D’Aguesseau ;  and turning to the bodyguard he said, “ Messieurs, the King orders and begs you not to fire, to hit no one—in a word, not to defend yourselves.”

“ Monsieur,” said Luillier, “ assure our unhappy master that his orders will be carried out, but we shall all be assassinated.”  For sublime devotion to duty, for heroic obedience to insane commands, the conduct of the King’s bodyguard on this 6th of October can show no parallel in history except, perhaps, in the charge of Balaclava.  Of all historians Montjoie alone has paid these gallant men their due, and it is from his pages that we must borrow the glorious story of their stand against odds so terrible and overwhelming.  Do not their very names bring with them a breath of chivalry ?  Guéroult de Berville, Guéroult de Valmet, Miomandre de Sainte Marie, De Charmand, and De Varicourt—we seem to be reading in some gold-emblazoned scroll that tells of knightly deeds done by followers of Saint Louis around the walls of Antioch.  It has been said that the Old Order was effete, and this might well be so if it were judged by the faithless courtiers who at the first hint of danger deserted King and country ;  but amongst these soldiers of the King there was yet stern stuff that, had it been allowed full play, must have saved the monarchy.  For the last time we see them, these warriors of old France, rallying in a final expiring effort around the tottering throne.  Henceforth the King must look elsewhere for his defenders—Swiss Guards will bleed and die for him, super annuated gentlemen will draw ineffectual swords in his service, women will throw their fragile bodies between the King and his assassins, but the heroic bodyguard will appear no more on the scene—the long romance of French chivalry is ended.

It was a quarter to six in the grey dawn of the autumn morning when the raging mob burst through the side gate into the Cour Royale.  The sentinels of the Paris militia, vouched for by Lafayette, offered no resistance, and seeing this the brigands, who at first had trembled at finding themselves within the royal precincts, realized that they incurred no danger, and “ flung themselves like tigers on all the members of the bodyguard that they encountered.” [125]  The brave Deshuttes fell pierced with a hundred wounds ;  his body was dragged into the Cour des Ministres, where Jourdan “ Coupe-Tête ” cut off his head, and in a sudden access of homicidal fury smeared his face, his arms, his long and ragged beard with the blood of his victim.  And at this horrible spectacle the mob went mad likewise and, bespattering themselves in the same manner, danced around the mutilated corpse.  Then the cry went up, “ We must have the heart of the Queen ! ”  But already a large portion of the mob had poured through the archway by the Chapel and the Cour des Princes and burst into the Château.

The scene that followed was horrible ;  even at this distance of time one’s heart stands still as one reads the descriptions of contemporaries who, with awful realism, bring before one’s eyes the mad rush of the crowd up the great marble staircase of the Roi Soleil towards the Queen’s apartments ;  we can see, hear, even smell them, those tattered brigands of the Faubourgs, those dishevelled harridans and blaspheming women of the town, mud-stained and haggard with fatigue after the long march from Paris and the few brief hours of sleep snatched on floors and benches, and all mad for blood, all clutching cruel weapons of their own devising—knives tied to broomsticks, scythes and pikes and billhooks—and howling as they tear upwards like a pack of wild beasts rushing on their prey.  “ Where is that f . . . coquine ?  We will cut off her head ;  we will tear out her heart ;  we will make cockades of her entrails, and it will not end there !  “ And amidst these hideous imprecations again the same refrain :  “ Long live Orleans !  Long live our father, our king Orleans !”

Was the Duc d’Orléans himself amongst the cannibal horde on the marble staircase ?  Did his hand point the way to the door of the Queen’s apartments ?  Many contemporaries believed it, but to this point we shall return later and leave it to the reader to form his own opinion of the evidence brought forward.  One thing is certain, the crowd never paused, never hesitated for a moment, as people unfamiliar with the interior of the Château might be expected to do, but made straight for the hall of the Queen’s bodyguard “ as if led by some one who knew the way.” [126]

There on the threshold twelve of the guards were waiting to receive them.  Miomandre de Sainte-Marie stepped boldly forward and attempted to check the wild onrush of the mob by one despairing appeal to their vanished loyalty :

“ My friends, you love your King, yet you come to disquiet him in his very palace ! ”

For answer the crowd rushed upon Miomandre and nearly felled him to the ground, and the guards, forbidden to defend themselves, were driven back into the hall where, with a quick movement, they succeeded in closing the doors in the face of their assailants.  Only three rooms now between the Queen and her assassins—four folding doors to be beaten down before the savage horde could close around her bed and thrust their terrible weapons into her heart !  The guards, to gain time, barricaded the doors of their hall, but the fragile panels quickly yielded to the blows of pikes and muskets ;  the crowd rushed forward into the hall.  Already De Varicourt was killed and his head gone to join Deshuttes’ on a pike outside in the courtyard.  The guards were driven back step by step over the parquet into the Grande Salle ;  Du Repaire was left alone to guard the door of the Queen’s bodyguard.  The next moment Du Repaire was overthrown and dragged to the head of the staircase ;  a man with a pike and another in woman’s clothes [127] seized him—Miomandre rushed to the rescue and saved the life of Du Repaire who, wresting a pike from his assailants, continued to defend himself.  Then Miomandre, his face streaming with blood, realizing that nothing now could keep back the raging mob, dashed to the door of the Queen’s antechamber, opened it, and cried out to Madame Augue, one of the Queen’s women, “ Madame, save the Queen, they have come to kill her !  I am here alone against two thousand tigers ;  my comrades have been forced to leave their hall ! ”

There was nothing for it but to leave the brave Miomandre to his fate.  Madame Augué quickly shut the door, pushed in the great bolt, and flew to the Queen’s bedside :  “ Madame, get out of bed !  Do not dress ;  escape to the King ! ”

The Queen sprang out of bed ;  her ladies threw a mantle around her shoulders, a petticoat over her head, and hurried her through a side door leading to the Œil de Bœuf by a narrow passage.  At the end of this the door, invariably open, was, on this day of all others, locked.  She beat on the panels ;  after five agonizing minutes a servant opened to her, and she reached the King’s rooms in safety, crying out, “ My friends, my dear friends, save me and my children ! ”

So, owing to the courage of the two heroic guards, the Queen still lived—the great coup of the conspirators had failed.

Meanwhile around the door of the Queen’s guards the fight continued ;  now at last the guards made use of weapons—Du Repaire with the pike he had captured, Luillier and Miomandre with their swords, defended their lives against the horde of assassins.  Miomandre by a blow from a pike was thrown to the ground, and an assassin standing over him raised the buttend of his gun, bringing it crashing down on his victim’s skull.  Miomandre, bathed in his blood, was left for dead, but the crowd having swept onwards through the doorway into the Queen’s apartments, he raised himself, staggered to his feet, and escaped.

The next moment the door of the Queen’s bedchamber was beaten down, and the furious horde, amongst them two of the men disguised as women, rushed forward to the bed to find it empty.  It is said by Montjoie and Rivarol that in their rage they plunged their pikes into the mattress, slashed at the bedclothes with their sabres, and then by way of the great Galerie des Glaces proceeded to attack the Œil de Bœuf ;  according to Madame Campan they did not enter the Queen’s room, but reached the Œil de Bœuf through the hall of the King’s guards.  In either case their intention was to break down the doors of the Œil de Bœuf, where a few remaining members of the bodyguard were entrenched, and having massacred the King’s last defenders to fall upon the Royal Family, who had taken refuge in the King’s bedroom beyond.  But this plan was frustrated by an unexpected check—a detachment of grenadiers belonging to the old Gardes Françaises drawn up before the doors of the Œil de Bœuf.  What had happened to bring about this sudden return to loyalty in the mutineers who, at the siege of the Bastille, had rallied to the standard of revolt ?  One thing only—Lafayette, at last aroused from his optimistic lethargy, had risen to the occasion.  From the moment the attack on the Château began—that attack which he had persisted in believing would never take place—his conduct was admirable, and it is unquestionably to Lafayette that must be accorded the eternal honour of saving the lives of the Royal Family on this 6th of October.  At the first sound of the tumult he had sprung up, mounted his horse, and summoned his grenadiers to the rescue of the King and the bodyguard.  “ Grenadiers,” he cried, “ will you suffer brave men to be basely assassinated ? . . . Swear to me on your honour as grenadiers that no harm shall be done to them ! ”

The grenadiers took the oath, and rallying around their still adored commander hastened to rescue the guards who had fallen into the clutches of the assassins.  They were joined immediately by the men of the Parisian militia, and these, clasping in their arms the white-haired brigadiers of the bodyguard, cried out, “ No, we will not murder brave men like you ! ”

So again, as after the siege of the Bastille, the mutinous soldiers were turned by a word from revolutionary fury to sentiments of humanity, and it was these men who but yesterday had marched against their King that were drawn up in his defence outside the Œil de Bœuf.

Inside the room the officers of the bodyguard, who had been driven back from the door of the Queen’s apartments, were waiting to prevent the insurgents from reaching the Royal Family collected in the King’s bedroom beyond, and the grenadiers, wishing now to effect a coalition with their former enemies, rattled at the door-handle to attract their attention, whilst at the same time keeping the mob at bay.

Chevannes, Vaulabelle, and Mondollot of the bodyguard cried through the door, “ Who knocks ? ”

“ Grenadiers ! ”

Then Chevannes, opening the door, courageously confronted the men he took to be his enemies.  “ Messieurs,” he said, “ is it a victim you seek ?  Here is one.  I offer myself.  I am one of the commanders of the post ;  it is to me that belongs the honour of dying the first in defence of my King, but, by God, learn to respect that good King ! ”

But Gondran, commander of the grenadiers, held out his hand :  “ Far from wishing to take your life, we have come to defend you against your assassins.”

In an instant grenadiers and guards fell into one another’s arms, mingling tears of joy, calling each other friends and comrades ;  the guards consented to wear the tricolour cockade, and finally the men of the two regiments joining forces drove the rabble from the Château.

The tide had now turned irresistibly against the conspirators.  Down below in the Cour de Marbre the grenadiers were still fighting bravely for the lives of the guards, and the King, seeing the fray from the windows, rushed out on to the balcony of the great bedroom of Louis XIV. and cried out to the people for mercy to be shown to his faithful defenders.  Several of the guards in attendance followed after him, and waving their hats, adorned with the tricolour cockade, cried out, “ Vive la nation ! ”

The situation was saved ;  in a moment that strange Parisian crowd had forgotten their fury, and to the shouts of “ Vive la nation ! ” responded with cries of “ Vive le Roi ! ”

Then the conspirators determined on one final effort to achieve their purpose, and voices were raised calling for the Queen to appear likewise on the balcony.

All this time Marie Antoinette had remained in the King’s bedroom with her children, surrounded by her weeping women and distracted courtiers ;  the ministers Luzerne and Montmorin appeared incapable of action, whilst in a corner Necker, the people’s idol, sat sobbing helplessly.  Marie Antoinette alone was calm, rousing the courage of those around her, quieting the little Dauphin who repeated plaintively, “ Maman, I am hungry.”  Only at one moment her serenity failed her, as, looking down from the windows, she perceived suddenly amongst the raging multitude the figure of Philippe d’Orléans walking gaily arm-in-arm with Adrien Duport,[128] and at the sinister vision the Queen caught the Dauphin to her heart and, half rising from her seat, cried out in an agony of terror, “ They are coming to kill my son ! ”  Marie Antoinette well knew that it was not “ the people ” who were most to be feared.

The cries of “ Vive le Roi ! ” that had broken out when the King appeared on the balcony showed that he at least had not lost his place in their hearts, and when at this moment word was brought that the Queen too must show herself to the crowd, she advanced confidently towards the balcony holding the Dauphin and Madame Royale by the hand.

“ She took her children with her for safety,” says a revolutionary writer—she who would have died a hundred deaths to save them !  No more cruel calumny has ever been uttered against Marie Antoinette.  It is easy to understand the idea that inspired her action.  What mother worthy of the name does not believe that the sight of her offspring must melt the fiercest heart ?  And surely no stronger appeal could be made to the women she believed to be the same poissardes who, but a few short years earlier, had presented themselves at this very spot to hail the birth of the Dauphin than to show his younger brother to them now !  Were not the poissardes mothers too ?  Undoubtedly, if the poissardes had composed the crowd, the result would have been just as the Queen anticipated, but the conspirators shrewdly foresaw this also, and a man’s voice in the crowd cried out threateningly, “No children ! ”  At that Marie Antoinette, comprehending that the rage of the multitude had not abated, handed the children to Madame de Tourzel and came forward alone.

As she stood there on the balcony in the pale light of the October morning, her hair disordered, a little yellow-striped wrapper hastily thrown over her night attire,[129] her face, of which the dazzling tints had once defied the painter’s art, now changed to a stricken pallor, Marie Antoinette had never seemed so much a Queen.  Folding her hands on her breast she raised her eyes above the angry sea of pikes and muskets, filling the courtyards of the Château and stretching right away across the Place d’Armes to the Avenue de Versailles, and looked to heaven, “ like a victim offering herself up to death.”

And at this sight a hush fell over the tumultuous crowd, a breathless and tremendous silence during which the Queen’s life hung in the balance.  But amongst all that vast multitude only one man was found ready to carry out the design of the conspirators.  This brigand raised his gun to his shoulder, took aim at the Queen, but, according to Ferrières, dared not pull the trigger ;  according to Weber, the weapon was angrily dashed from his hand by his companions.  The next moment the silence was broken by a wild outburst of applause ;  cries of “ Vive la Reine ! ” resounded on every side.  Lafayette, coming forward into the balcony, raised the Queen’s hand to his lips and kissed it.  The storm of acclamation redoubled ;  the situation was saved.

So once again the designs of the Orléanistes were frustrated ;  only one hope remained to them—if the King and Queen were to be brought to Paris the people might yet be worked up to the pitch of fury necessary to their assassination.  Accordingly a voice in the crowd [130] was heard calling out, “ The King to Paris !  The King to Paris ! ” and instantly the cry was taken up by the multitude.  Hearing this the King decided to consult the Assembly, and a message was sent to the hall requesting that the deputies should come to the Château to discuss the situation.  “ We must not hesitate,” replied Mounier ;  “ let us fly to the King.”  But Mirabeau had no mind to expose his person to the tender mercies of the revolutionary crowds whose benevolence he was never tired of praising,[131] and immediately opposed the suggestion.  “ It is inconsistent with the dignity of the Assembly to go to the King ;  we cannot deliberate in a King’s palace.”

“ Our dignity,” retorted Mounier, “ consists in doing our duty, and at this moment of danger our sacred duty is to be with the King ;  we shall reproach ourselves eternally if we neglect it.”

Then the King, with the courage which the deputies lacked, announced his intention of going to the Assembly since the Assembly would not go to him, and thereupon the Assembly, “ with the sound of musketry fire all around,” settled down to a long discussion on the manner of receiving him.[132]

Whilst these inconceivable delays were taking place the crowd was becoming more and more excited, and at last the King, despairing of the Assembly’s co-operation, resolved to take the matter into his own hands and accede to the demands of the people.  Going out once more on to the balcony he accordingly addressed them in these words :

“ My children, you wish that I should follow you to Paris.  I consent, but on the understanding that I shall not be separated from my wife and children, and I ask for the safety of my bodyguard.”

The crowd replied with cries of “ Vive le Roi !  Vive les gardes du corps ! ”  Guns were fired as a sign of rejoicing.  But once again the agitators succeeded in turning the tide of popular feeling, and it was in the midst of a raging herd that the Royal Family set forth on the terrible seven hours’ drive to Paris.  Around the carriage the vilest of the rabble had collected, pressing against it so closely that it seemed to be borne upon their shoulders ;  sitting astride on cannons were the sham fishwives, carrying branches of poplar adorned with ribbons, and women of the streets, still drunk with blood and wine, singing foul songs of the gutter, and insulting the Queen by their gestures and grimaces.

In order to give colour to the story that the Court had been monopolizing the grain, the Orléanistes now released supplies and brought up wagon-loads of grain to join in the procession.[133]  The people, completely duped by this manœuvre, surrounded the wagons, crying out repeatedly, “ We are bringing you the baker, the baker’s wife, and the baker’s boy (Nous vous amenons le boulanger, la boulangère et le petit mitron).”

In the rear were the tragic remnants of the bodyguard—forty to fifty shattered men, disarmed, bareheaded, worn with hunger and fatigue, their garments torn and blood-stained, led prisoner by brigands armed with pikes and sabres, to meet, for all they knew, with a fate as hideous as their comrades Deshuttes and Varicourt, whose heads had been carried two hours earlier to Paris, and brought in triumph to the Palais Royal.[134]

As the procession passed through Passy the Duc d’Orléans, who had hurried on ahead, was seen on the terrace of his house surrounded by his children, and with them Madame de Genlis, frantically impatient to witness the humiliation of the Queen, to whose Court she had never been able to gain admittance.  At the sight of their vanquished rivals joy unrestrained broke out on the countenances of this ignoble family.  Mademoiselle d’Orléans gave way to hysterical laughter.  Some of the brigands in the crowd, recognizing the duke, in spite of his efforts to conceal himself behind the rest of the group, cried out, “ Vive le Duc d’Orléans !  Vive notre père d’Orléans ! ” nor could ducal frowns and gestures silence these incriminating acclarnations.[135]

It was seven o’clock in the evening when the Royal Family reached the Hôtel de Ville to be complimented by Bailly on “ the beautiful day ” that had brought the King to Paris.  Louis XVI., in a voice faint with hunger and exhaustion, replied that he came “ with joy and with confidence into the good city of Paris.”  Bailly, in repeating the King’s words to the people, omitted to say “ with confidence,” but the Queen, whose presence of mind even at this crisis had not deserted her, interposed in clear tones “ You forget, Monsieur, that the King said ‘ and with confidence.’ ”  Whereat Bailly, turning to the people, added, “ You hear, Messieurs ?  You are more fortunate than if I had said it myself.”  At half-past nine, by the glare of torches, the Royal Family entered the palace of the Tuileries that for nearly three years was to be their prison.  It is said that the King was radiant, his confidence in his people once more restored, for at this, as at every other crisis of the Revolution, he never lost sight of the fact that the people were misled and to be pitied rather than blamed.

“ There are evil men,” he said next day to the little Dauphin, “ who have stirred up the people, and the excesses committed are their work ;  we must not bear a grudge against the people.”  In this conviction, which to the last day of his life Louis XVI. never relinquished, is to be found the secret of that amazing spirit of forbearance which has been attributed to his weakness.

THE RÔLE OF THE PEOPLE

The point that Louis XVI. failed to realize was that the revolutionary mob which marched on Versailles was not the people at all, but an assemblage composed of impostors both male and female, and of hired rabble from the Faubourgs ;  the only element that could be described as representing the people being those poor women forced against their will to march.

So indignant were the true women of the people at the masquerade conducted in their name that, on the morning after the arrival of the Royal Family in Paris, a deputation of the “ Ladies of the Market ” presented themselves at the Commune of Paris to repudiate all complicity with the movement by means of the following petition :

“ Messieurs, we come to represent to you that we at the corn market took no part in what happened yesterday ;  we disapprove of it . . . ;  we devote to public justice women who have no other qualification than that of light women (femmes du monde) and prostituted to those who, like themselves, only wish to disturb the peace and tranquillity of good citizens.” [136]

The deputation proceeded to declare that “ they disapproved of the indecent way in which the women had presented themselves to the King and Queen, and that, far from having spoken against Messieurs Bailly and Lafayette, they would defend them to the last drop of their blood.”  They requested that the National Guard should be ordered to bring these women back to order.  This little petition was deposited on the table and signed by the members of the deputation, but amongst these only three were able to write their names.[137]

According to Rivarol the poissardes also went to the Tuileries on the same morning and “ presented a petition to the King and Queen to demand justice for the horrible calumny which rendered them accomplices of the violence committed the day before towards their Majesties.”[138]

In the light of the deputation to the Commune this statement of Rivarol’s seems credible enough ;  if the women protested to the electors of Paris, why should they not have protested to the King and Queen ?  It may be suggested that it was the women of the corn market only who went to the Commune, but if so, why did they not say that it was from the women of the fish market that they wished to disassociate themselves, instead of stating distinctly that the women who marched on Versailles were of a totally different class—the class of “ light women ” that the “ respectable poor ” usually hold in abhorrence ?

The whole of this incident has been very carefully kept dark by the conspiracy of history, for, of course, it effectually disposes of the cherished revolutionary legend that the march on Versailles was conducted by women of the people.  Even if we doubt the veracity of Rivarol, the petition to the Commune is an absolutely unanswerable refutation of this theory, and therefore no mention has been made of it by any revolutionary writer, either amongst contemporaries or amongst posterity.

From the point of view of the people the march on Versailles proved naturally disastrous ;  the cause of liberty had been disgraced in the eyes of the world and the work of reform arrested in full swing.  Several of the democratic deputies realizing this left the country in despair, and amongst this number were two of the most ardent defenders of the people—Mounier [139] and Lally Tollendal.  Clermont Tonnerre remained to be massacred at his post, Virieu to perish on the scaffold ;  Malouet alone of the Royalist Democrats survived the succeeding storms of the Revolution.

THE RÔLE OF THE ORLÉANISTES

Even the eyes of Lafayette were now at last opened to the truth about the Orléaniste conspiracy.  Hitherto his Republican fervour had prevented him from offering a too determined opposition to the revolutionary movement, but if the 14th of July had moderated his revolutionary ardour, the 6th of October, he declared to the Comte d’Estaing, had made him a Royalist.[140]  It was all over with liberty, he now saw, if the Orléanistes were to prevail, and with a courage he too seldom displayed he resolved to tell the King the whole truth, and to insist on the exile or conviction of the duke.  At the same time Lafayette sought an interview with the duke himself, of which the following account is given in the Correspondence of Lord Auckland :

“ The duke was at the head of a formidable party, the purpose of which was to send the King away, if not worse, and to make himself to be named Regent, etc.  M. de Lafayette has worked out this plot in wonderful silence, and once master of every proof he waited on the duke last Saturday (Oct. 10) for the first time, and told him these words on which you may depend :

“ ‘ Monseigneur, I fear there will soon be on the scaffold the head of some one of your name.’

“ The duke looked surprised.

“ ‘You intend, Monseigneur, to have me assassinated, but be sure that you will be yourself an hour later.’

“ The duke swore on his word of honour that he was not guilty.

“ The other continued, saying :

“ ‘ Monseigneur, I must accept your word of honour, but as I have under my hand the strongest proof of your whole conduct, your Highness must leave France or else I shall bring you before a tribunal within twenty-four hours.  The King has descended several steps of his throne, but I have placed myself on the last ;  he will descend no further, and in order to reach him you will have to pass over my body.  You have cause for complaint against the Queen, and so have I, but this is the moment to forget all grievances.’

“ The duke consented to depart.  The day after they were with the King, before whom the marquis repeated to the duke all he had said.”[141]

But Louis XVI., always magnanimous, refrained from humiliating his cousin by a public exposure of his conduct, and contented himself with sending him on a pretended mission to England.  According to Montjoie he hoped by this indulgence to dissuade the duke from continuing to monopolize the grain.  “ In the situation where so many misfortunes and crimes have placed me,” he said to Orléans, “ I see only the needs of the people.  My sole desire and likewise my first duty is to give them back their subsistence.”  Accordingly he agreed to forgive everything that had taken place on the condition that the duke would open his granaries, of which a number were in England, and restore the corn he had concealed.  A mission to the English Court was to be the pretext for his departure.[142]

Whether Montjoie is right on the real object of the duke’s journey—and his statement is confirmed by the revolutionary Désodoards [143]—it is certain that the mission of the Duc d’Orléans to England was not, as his supporters would have us believe, an official one, but a pretext either to cover his restoration of the grain or simply to get him out of the country.  The correspondence of English contemporaries on this point is conclusive, and shows that in England likewise the Duc d’Orléans was universally regarded as the author of the atrocities committed on the 6th of October.[144]

The Royalist Democrats, amongst whom we may now count Lafayette, refused, however, to be satisfied with the mere exile of the duke, and resolved to expose the whole design of the Orléaniste conspiracy.  Mounier was the chief instigator of this movement.[145]

Accordingly in November the Châtelet of Paris opened an immense inquiry into the events of October 5 and 6.  In spite of the threats of the Orléanistes a great number of witnesses came forward to testify against the infamous manœuvres of the duke and his supporters, and these witnesses were not taken only from amongst aristocrats or Royalists, but from amongst men and women of all classes—soldiers, hairdressers, deputies of the Assembly, washerwomen, ladies-in-waiting, tradesmen, and domestic servants jostle each other in the 570 pages published by the Châtelet, and no one should attempt to write a line on October 5 and 6 without consulting the graphic descriptions given by these eye-witnesses of the manner in which the march on Versailles was engineered.[146]  In the light of this great mass of evidence no impartial mind can possibly doubt that the whole insurrection was the work of the Orléaniste conspiracy—the forcing of the women to march, the men in women’s clothes, the money distributed amongst the crowd, the presence of the duke himself and of his supporters in the thick of the tumult always followed by cries of “ Vive le bon duc d’Orléans !  Vive notre roi d’Orléans ! ”  All these facts were proved beyond dispute.

That the duke was indeed actually amongst the crowd on the marble staircase showing them the way to the Queen’s apartments can hardly be doubted, but on this point the reader must be left to form his own opinion from the evidence given in the Appendix of this book.[147]

The Châtelet having thus accumulated information from every quarter, finally sought the testimony of the victim against whom all the worst outrages of October 6 had been directed—the Queen of France.  But to the inquiries of the commissioners who presented themselves at the Tuileries for the purpose, Marie Antoinette made only the reply :  “ I saw everything, I heard everything, I have forgotten everything (J’ai tout vu, j’ai tout entendu, j’ai tout oublié).” [148]

The supreme opportunity had been given her to bring her arch-enemy to justice—a course that might have saved the lives of the Royal Family and put an end to the whole Revolution, but with sublime magnanimity she chose to reject it.  Yet there are still historians capable of saying that Marie Antoinette “ knew not to forgive ” !

But the evidence collected by the Châtelet was already more than sufficient to prove that the events of October 5 and 6 were the work of a conspiracy.  Even the “ Comité des Recherches ” of the municipality of Paris, to whom the Châtelet applied for information, though in collusion with the Orléanistes—Brissot was, in fact, one of its leading members—admitted in its report that “ the execrable crime which defiled the Château of Versailles in the morning of Tuesday the 6th of October had for instruments bandits set in motion by clandestine manœuvres who mingled with the citizens,” but in order to avert investigation as to the authors of these manœuvres the Comité refused to extend its inquiries to anything that took place before the morning of the 6th.  By this means, as Mounier points out, all the preparations that led up to the march on Versailles, and even the organization of the march itself, were to be kept dark, so as to throw the entire blame on a “ few obscure ruffians ” whom the conspirators were quite ready to deliver over to justice.[149]

In spite of these obstacles the Châtelet had no difficulty, however, in deciding who were the true authors of the insurrection, and on the 5th of August 1790 the magistrates unanimously convicted the Duc d’Orléans and Mirabeau as deserving of arrest.

The following day a deputation from the Châtelet presented themselves at the Assembly and placed all the documentary evidence they had collected on the table.

Boucher d’Argis then opened the debate with these dramatic words :

“ At last we have torn aside the veil from the deplorable event now all too celebrated.  They will be known—those secrets full of horror ;  they will be revealed—those crimes that stained the palace of our kings in the morning of October the 6th ! ”

But the Orléanistes had still far too much power over the Assembly to be brought to justice.  Chabroud, the hireling of the duke,[150] was deputed to draw up a report exonerating both the delinquents, and this was followed by tirades from Mirabeau and the Duc de Biron, which had the usual effect of cowing the Assembly.  To any impartial mind these speeches for the defence are hardly less convincing proof of the conspirators’ guilt than the report of the Châtelet.  Not a single charge against the defendants is effectually refuted ;  the feebleness of the arguments employed is equalled only by their audacity.  The “ people ” whom these demagogues did not hesitate to stigmatize as “ ruffians ” or as “ tigers ” [151] were alone to blame ;  the only conspiracy was that of the “ enemies of the Revolution ” !  In other words, it was the “ aristocrats ” who had organized the march on Versailles !

Mirabeau, adopting his usual device of drowning his lack of reason or logic in floods of meaningless verbiage, thundered against the Chatelet :  “ This history is profoundly odious.  The annals of crime offer few examples of infamy at the same time so shameless and unskilful.”  Several of the most incriminating accusations he boldly admitted,[152] but endeavoured to explain them away by sophistries so futile that even the Assembly would have been forced to reject them had not Mirabeau, with superb cunning, hit on an argument that terrified the Assembly into acquiescence.  “ It is not the 6th of October,” he cried, “ that is being brought to trial—it is the Revolution ! ”  And at this the Assembly, dominated by the two revolutionary factions, who well knew that if the Revolution ended it was all over with them, hastily reversed the judgement of the Châtelet and declared both Orléans and Mirabeau innocent.  At this monstrous decision of the Assembly a cry of indignation went up from all those who loved justice, and who from the beginning of the Revolution had striven for the cause of true liberty.[153]

Amongst these was Mounier, who wrote from Switzerland his Appeal to the Tribunal of Public Opinion denouncing the report of Chabroud :  “ I can conceive nothing so revolting as the efforts of M. Chabroud to justify the most frightful crimes, his indulgence towards the assassins, his hatred for the victims, his outrages against the witnesses and against the judges (of the Châtelet), the threatening tone of the Duc d’Orléans and the Comte de Mirabeau, the eagerness with which the conclusions of the reporter (Chabroud) were hastily admitted, without examination and without discussion.  Nothing of all this should surprise me, yet it provoked in me indignation almost equal to that which I felt on October 5 and 6, 1789.  Perhaps the apology of crime should inspire more horror than crime itself.”

Yet it is this apology of the crimes of October 5 and 6 that for more than a hundred years has triumphed over truth and justice ;  by nearly all historians the Procédure du Châtelet and the great denunciation of Mounier—whom up to this point they have quoted unceasingly in support of revolutionary doctrines—have been persistently ignored, and the character of the French people has been blackened for the better whitewashing of an ignoble prince and his boon companions.  Such is the “ democratic ” method of writing history !

The truth is that the march on Versailles was nothing but an Orléaniste rising ;  not only must the people be exonerated from blame, but so must also the other revolutionary intrigues.  In all the preparations that took place beforehand, in all the sidelights thrown by the Châtelet on the crimes committed, we can find no trace of either Anarchist, English, or Prussian cooperation ;  the leaders were men known to be devoted solely to the interests of the Duc d’Orléans, the instruments were in his pay.  But if these other intrigues took no actual part in the movement, they accorded it their heartiest sympathy.  The outrages of the 6th of October had furthered the cause of anarchy.  Robespierre could still afford to lie low, biding his time, whilst the Orléanistes proceeded with the work of demolition.

By the revolutionaries of England the events of October 5 and 6 were hailed with fresh rejoicings.  At the meeting-house of the Old Jewry on November 4, Dr. Price delivered his famous political sermon in praise of the French Revolution.  “ What an eventful period is this !  I am thankful that I have lived to see it ;  I could almost say ‘ Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation ’—I have lived to see a diffusion of knowledge which has undermined superstition and error. . . . I have lived to see thirty millions of people indignant and resolute, spurning at slavery and demanding liberty with an irresistible voice.  Their king led in triumph, and an arbitrary monarch surrendering himself to his subjects.”

After this discourse the members of the Revolutionary Society of Great Britain adjourned to the London Tavern and passed an address of congratulation on the “ glorious example of France,” which was transmitted by Lord Stanhope to the National Assembly.

But there was one man in England whose passionate love of liberty inspired him with the eloquence that alone could counteract these monstrous libels on a noble cause.  Burning with indignation Edmund Burke arose and in his immortal Reflections opened the eyes of his fellow-countrymen to the true character of the French Revolution and the outrages of October 6.  “ Is this a triumph to be consecrated at altars ? to be commemorated with grateful thanksgiving ? to be offered to the divine humanity with fervent prayer and enthusiastic ejaculation ? . . . I shall never think that a prince, the acts of whose whole reign were a series of concessions to his subjects, who was willing to relax his authority, to remit his prerogatives, to call his people to a share of freedom not known, perhaps not desired, by their ancestors . . . I shall be led with great difficulty to think that he deserves the cruel and insulting triumph of Paris and of Dr. Price.  I tremble for the cause of liberty, from such an example to kings.  I tremble for the cause of humanity in the unpunished outrages of the most wicked of mankind.”

Burke’s stirring appeal met with a prodigious success and carried all the sane portion of the people with him.  Hitherto they had retained a certain sympathy with the Revolution ;  the national “ sporting ” instinct had responded, as we have seen, to the enterprise of attacking the Bastille, but this same instinct recoiled at the cowardly attempt to massacre the defenceless Royal Family in their beds.  “ After the 6th of October,” says the Republican Dumont, “ many sensible men (in England) began to think that the French treated infamously a king who had done so much for them.” [154]

The effect of Burke’s speech was undoubtedly to save England from revolution ;  Dumont even goes so far as to question whether he was not “the saviour of Europe.”  In vain the English revolutionaries retorted with a storm of seditious pamphlets ;  their efforts were speedily transformed into waste paper, whilst Burke’s denunciation will live as long as the English tongue is spoken.

“ Its merit,” wrote the contemporary John Adolphus, “ can only be appreciated by the never-dying rancour it excited in the minds of his opponents, a rancour which age, affliction, sickness, and even death could not assuage.” [155]  It is not assuaged yet !  Still, after more than a hundred years, the Radical press does not weary of reviling the author of the great Reflections, and owing to its unremitting efforts England has never been allowed to know the debt she owes to Edmund Burke.[156]

But if England began henceforth to regard the French Revolution with aversion, Prussia continued to express unfeigned admiration for the principles of French liberty.  The decrees of August 4, which deprived the German princes of their estates in Alsace and Lorraine, had already embittered feeling between Austria and France, and paved the way for the dissolution of the hated Franco-Austrian alliance ;  and, although perhaps Prussia hardly realized it at the time, the first step had been taken towards the incorporation of these provinces with the future German Empire.  Well might Hertzberg and Von der Goltz rejoice at each succeeding stage of the Revolution !  “ A King without authority,” wrote the Minister of Saxony to Berlin, whilst the march on Versailles was preparing, “ a state without money or military power ;  in a word, a vessel caught in a storm and of which Mirabeau is the only pilot—what importance can France have henceforth in Europe ? ” [157]

Prussia had indeed every reason to be grateful to the Revolution.  Was it a recognition of this debt that inspired the Prussians to enter Versailles eighty-two years later to the strains of the “ Marseillaise ” ?  The 6th of October 1789 had proved but the prelude to the 8th of January 1871, and in the great gallery of the palace, stained with the blood of the King’s bodyguard, William I. of Prussia was proclaimed German Emperor amidst the acclamations of his conquering hordes.

1. Memoirs of Buzot, p. 61.

2. It is probable that Buzot was never an Orléaniste but, like Robespierre, he worked with them at the beginning of the Revolution.

3. Essais de Beaulieu, i. 506.

4. Moniteur, i. 324 ;  Beaulieu, i. 506 ;  Appel au Tribunal de l’Opinion Publique, by Mounier ;  Mémoires de Frénilly, p. 121. See the very curious account of the scene that took place at Forges in Normandy given by Mme. de la Tour du Pin, Journal d’une Femme de Cinquante Ans, i. 191.  Note that the manœuvre was admitted and approved by Louis Blanc, La Révolution, i. 337.

5. Montjoie, Conjuration de d’Orléans, ii. 105 ;  Deux Amis, ii. 255 ;  Moniteur, i. 324 ;  Essais de Beaulieu, ii. 16.

6. Deux Amis, ii. 257.

7. Lettres d’Aristocrates, published by Pierre de Vassière, p. 256 ;  Deux Amis, ii. 258.

8. Deux Amis, ii. 93 ;  “ Report of Deputation from St. Germain to the National Assembly,” Moniteur, i. 184.

9. Montjoie, Conjuration, ii. 91 ;  Deux Amis, ii. 172.

10. In Maçonnais, not far from Vesoul, banditti to the number of 6000, collected together, set fire to the houses of those peasants who would not join them, and cut down 230 of them (Report to the National Assembly, March 22, 1791).

11. Le Ministre de l’Interieur aux Corps Administratifs, September 1, 1792.

12. See, for example, Deux Amis de la Liberté, ii. 90 and following pages, where all the excesses described by Montjoie are related in almost identical language, but the recital ends with the words :  “ Such was the march of aristocracy ! ”  Let any one who can make sense out of the following passage :  “ The enemies of the Revolution, profiting by the general disposition to credulity, strove to fatigue the people by alarms spread for the purpose in order afterwards to lull them into a false security :  their plan was to drive them to excesses so as to bring them through licence under the yoke of despotism.”  Since few reprisals were ever taken, however, it is difficult to follow this line of reasoning.

13. Moniteur, i. 324 ;  Fantin Desodoards, p. 196 :  “ Hordes of brigands paid by the Due d’Orléans devastated rural property without distinguishing to which party the proprietors belonged ;  the granaries disappeared with the grain they contained.”

14. La Conspiration révolutionnaire de 1789, by Gustave Bord, p. 62 ;  Chassin, i. 109 ;  La Révolution, by Louis Madelin, p. 74.

15. Arthur Young was present when one of these letters was received in the provinces. “ The news at the table d’hôte at Colmar curious, that the Queen had a plot, nearly on the point of execution, to blow up the National Assembly by a mine, and to march the army instantly to massacre all Paris. . . . A deputy had written it ;  they had seen the letter. . . . Thus it is in revolutions, one rascal writes and a hundred thousand fools believe ” (Travels, date of July 24, 1789).

16. Ferrières, i, 161.

17. Moniteur, i. 183.

18. Article on Lally Tollendal in Biographie Michaud ;  also Second Letter of Lally Tollendal to his Constituents.  This speech of Lally’s and the exclamation of Barnave, though recorded by countless contemporaries, are suppressed in the Moniteur’s account of the debate that took place on July 23.

19. Eighteenth Letter of Mirabeau to his Constituents. See Moniteur, i. 191, note 2.

20. Letter of Lord Auckland to Pitt, Auckland MSS.

21. Le Comte de Fersen et la Cour de France, i. xlix.

22. Mémoires de l’Abbé Morellet, i. 335.

23. On this point the opinion of Montjoie is confirmed by no other than Robespierre himself, for in his illuminating Rapport on the Orléaniste conspiracy, delivered four years later through the mouth of St. Just, we find this passage :  “ They (the Orléanistes) made war on the noblesse, the guilty friends of the Bourbons, in order to pave the way for d’Orléans.  One sees at each step the efforts of this party to ruin the Court and to preserve the monarchy.”

24. Montjoie, Conjuration, ii. 120 ;  Histoire de l’Assemblée Constituante, by Alexandre de Lameth, i. 96.

25. Moniteur, i. 287 ;  Bailly, ii. 217 ;  article on Lally Tollendal in Biographie Michaud.

26. Moniteur, i. 335.

27. Ibid. i. 216.

28. Ibid. i. 390.

29. Ibid. i. 328 ;  Mémoires de Rivarol, p. 147.

30. Moniteur, i. 331 ;  Rivarol, p. 146.

31. Moniteur, i. 391.

32. See Articles VI. and VII. quoted on pp. 7 and 8.

33. Moniteur, i. 397.

34. Ibid. i. 419.

35. Moniteur, i. 399.

36. Deux Amis, ii. 361 ;  Mémoires de Bailly, ii. 327 ;  Ferrières, i. 222.

37. According to the Mémoires de La Fayette, Mirabeau had voted for the absolute Veto on the advice of Clavière, the future Girondin :  “ ‘ You see that bald head,’ he said, pointing out Clavière to several deputies who spoke to him in favour of the Suspensive Veto, ‘ I do nothing without consulting it.’  And the bald head, Republican in Geneva on the 10th of August (1792), had declared for the absolute Veto ” (Mémoires de La Fayette, iii. 311).

38. Playfair’s History of Jacobinism, p. 244.

39. Article on Mounier in Biographie Michaud by Lally Tollendal.

40. “ M. Mounier, one of the principal authors of the Revolution and one of the first leaders of the patriotic party, became suddenly the object of the people’s hatred and of the favour of aristocracy ! ” (Deux Amis, iii. 166).  For “ people ” as usual read “ revolutionaries ” !

41. Mounier to the Assembly, August 31 :  “ It is evident that perverse men desire to build up their fortunes on the ruins of the country. You see the plan to prevent the Constitution from being formed and developed ” (Moniteur, i. 400).

42. La Révolution, by Louis Madelin, p. 87.

43. Article on St. Huruge in the Revue de la Révolution, published by Gustave Bord, vol. vi. p. 251.

44. Procédure du Châtelet, evidence of Dwall, witness cccxvil.

45. Ferrières, i. 220 ;  Deux Amis, ii. 360.

46. Mémoires de Bailly, ii. 327.

47. Appel au Tribunal de l’Opinion publique, by Mounier, p. 65.

48. Mémoires de Bailly, iii. 392.

49. Esquisses historiques de la Révolution Française, by Dulaure, p. 286.

50. A contemporary records that St. Huruge having been once reproached for allowing himself to be flogged without retaliating, he replied, “ I never interfere with what goes on behind my back ” (L’Ami des Lois, 17 pluviose, An VIII).  See article on St. Huruge in the Revue de la Révolution edited by Gustave Bord, vol. vi.

51. The King is frequently stated to have refused this sanction until October 5, but contemporaries of all parties are explicit on this point. See Deux Amis, iii. 29 ;  Mémoires de Bailly, ii. 379 ;  Marmontel, iv. 238 ;  Histoire de l’Assemblée Constituante, by Alexandre de Lameth, i. 142.

52. Moniteur, i. 496 ;  Bailly, ii. 389.  On the question of the King’s “ rigid economy ” with regard to his personal expenses see the address from the National Assembly on January 5, 1790 (Moniteur, iii. 52).

53. Moniteur, i. 519. Molé, the actor, who was present on this occasion, delighted Mirabeau by telling him he had missed his vocation—he should have gone on the stage !  (Souvenirs d’Étienne Dumont, p. 133).

54. The use of the word “ republican ” by Desmoulins at this date may seem to contradict the statement that he was an Orléaniste, but the word was frequently used during the earlier stages of the Revolution to signify simply “ public-spirited ” (see, for example, the remark of Mounier to Mirabeau on p. 140).  On the other hand, Montjoie may be right in saying that at this moment Camille Desmoulins had temporarily gone over to Lafayette and Republicanism (Conjuration de d’Orléans, ii. 153).  This would explain the disagreement that seems to have taken place between Desmoulins and Mirabeau at the end of this visit to Versailles.

55. Souvenirs sur Mirabeau, p. 121.

56. Fragment de l’Histoire secrète de la Révolution, 1793.

57. Appel au Tribunal de l’Opinion publique, p. 67.

58. Deux Amis, iii. 101 ;  Montjoie, Conjuration de d’Orléans, ii. 167.

59. Deux Amis, iii. 112 ;  Bailly, ii. 281 ;  Rivarol, p. 256.

60. Montjoie, Conjuration de d’Orléans, ii. 172 ;  Ferrières, ii. 273 ;  evidence of Elizabeth Pannier, wife of a restaurant keeper at Versailles, witness xx. in Procédure du Châtelet.

61. Correspondance secrète, i. 414.

62. Faits relatifs à la dernière insurrection, by Mounier.

63. Evidence of De Pelletier and of De Grandmaison in Procédure du Châtelet.

64. Mémoires de Mme. Campan, p. 248 ;  speech of the Marquis de Bonnay to the Assembly on October 1, 1790, in Moniteur for this date ;  evidence of La Brousse de Belleville, witness xxii. in Procédure du Châtelet, etc.

65. Montjoie, Conjuration de d’Orléans, ii. 173 ;  Appel au Tribunal, by Mounier, p. III.

66. Ferrières, i. 275.

67. Ibid. i. 260 ;  Deux Amis, iii. 128.

68. Faits relatifs à la dernière Insurrection, by Mounier, p. 9.

69. Appel au Tribunal, by Mounier, p. 91.

70. Deux Amis, iii. 134 ;  Ferrières, i. 279.

71. Appel au Tribunal, p. 65.

72. Correspondance entre Mirabeau et La March, p. 107.

73. “ I know that several of the libels published then (before the 5th of October) were paid for by the agents of the Duc d’Orléans” (Mémoires de Malouet, i. 344.  Others were undoubtedly paid for by Von der Goltz.

74. Lettre d’un Français sur les moyens qui ont opéré la Révolution, pp. 11, 12, and 31.

75. La Conspiration révolutionnaire de 1789, by Gustave Bord, p. 211.

76. See, amongst the assertions of innumerable contemporaries, that of Mounier, Appel au Tribunal, p. 74 :  “ At the time of October the 5th, means were adopted that had been tried several times before, that of creating a famine and then accusing those who were called aristocrats so as to give the impression that abundance was at the disposal of a prince without power, and thus to associate the feeling of vengeance with the feeling of want.”  Mounier goes on to point out that Brissot himself was obliged to admit that before the insurrection of October 5 “ there had existed for some days that apparent famine of which we spoke before. This famine did not really exist.”  Brissot then proceeded to accuse “ the aristocrats,” but as Mounier observed :  “ We will not seek to show how absurd it was to accuse of these manœuvres those who were to be the victims of them, whilst it would have been much more correct to conclude that since the aristocrats of Versailles were the objects of the people’s hatred, that hatred was excited by the partisans of the democracy.  It is at any rate true that M. Brissot admitted the famine was fictitious and consequently that a plot existed.”

77. Bailly, ii. 406.

78. Ibid. ii. 359.

79. Gonchon received the sum of 30,000 to 40,000 francs for each insurrection he succeeded in exciting (Memoirs of the Comtesse de Bohm, p. 196, edited by De Lescure).

80. Appel au Tribunal, by Mounier, p. 123.

81. Histoire de la Révolution de France, by Fantin Désodoards, i. 340.

82. Crimes de la Révolution, by Prudhomme, iii. 161.

83. Appel au Tribunal, p. 123 :  “Those who directed it (the insurrection) had judged it expedient to make it begin with women, so that the soldiers would be less likely to use force.”

84. Mémoires de Rivarol, p. 263.

85. Mémoires de Mme. Campan, p. 167.

86. Evidence of M. de Blois, member of the Commune, witness xxxv. in the Procédure du Châtelet.

87. Appel au Tribunal, p. 124.

88. On the men in women’s clothes see Appel au Tribunal, by Mounier, p. 124, and the testimony of eye-witnesses vii., ix., x., xxxiii., xxxiv., xxxv., xliv., lix., xcviii., cx., cxlvi., clxv., ccxxxvii., cccxvi., and many others in the Procédure du Châtelet.

89. Mémoires concernant Marie Antoinette, by Joseph Weber, ii. 210 ;  Montjoie, Conjuration de d’Orléans, ii. 245 ;  evidence of the Chevalier de La Serre, witness ccxxvi. in Procédure du Châtelet.

90. Evidence of La Serre and St. Martin (officer in the Regiment de Flandre), witness xcviii. in Procédure du Châtelet.

91. Taine, La Révolution, i. 153.

92. Evidence of St. Firmin, bourgeois de Paris, witness xlv. in Procédure du Châtelet.

93. St. Huruge was still safely lodged in the Châtelet, so his courage could not be put to the test.

94. Evidence of Jeanne Martin, a sick-nurse forced to march “ with threats of violence,” witness lxxxii., and De Villelongue, witness lxxxix. In Procédure du Châtelet.

95. Evidence of Jeanne Martin and of Madeleine Glain, charwoman, witness lxxxiii. in Procédure du Châtelet.

96. Evidence of witnesses x., lvi., lxxxii., cxcix., cclxxii., and ccclxxxvii. in Procédure du Châtelet.

97. Evidence of Maillard, witness lxxxi. in Procédure du Châtelet ;  Deux Amis, iii. 178.

98. No messengers were able to reach the King, as they were all stopped by the mob of women on the road from Paris (Deux Amis, iii. 177).

99. Moniteur, vi. 31.

100. Ibid. ii. 8.

101. Principles of the Constitution, article iii. :  “ The supreme executive power resides exclusively with the King (réside exclusivement dans les mains du roi) ” (Moniteur, i. 390).

102. Ferrieres, i. 295.

103. Montjoie, Conjuration de d’Orléans, ii. 204.

104. This scene is, of course, not recorded in the Moniteur. It was related by the Marquis de Digoine du Palais, witness clxviii., and the Marquis de Raigecourt, witness cciv., in the Procédure du Châtelet, and confirmed by other witnesses present, including Mounier, president of the Assembly, in his Appel au Tribunal, p. 233.

105. Evidence of the Marquis de Digoine du Palais in Procédure du Châtelet ;  Ferrières, i. 299.

106. Faits relatifs à la dernière Insurrection, by Mounier.

107. Note that Mirabeau afterwards stated that he only guessed “ by the nature of things ” that Paris was marching on Versailles. See Moniteur.

108. Appel au Tribunal, p. 302. Mirabeau, in recounting this scene (Moniteur, vi. 31), described Mounier as saying, “ So much the better, we shall be all the sooner a republic ! ”  This was probably intended to discredit Mounier in the eyes of the Royalists, but it is obvious that Mounier, who never concealed his allegiance to the monarchy, could not have said this, and that he used the word république in the sense of res-pucblica—the public good—in which it was frequently employed at this period by Royalists as well as revolutionaries.

109. De Juigné, to whose benevolence I have already referred.

110. Deux Amis, iii. 183.

111. These words, uttered by the people themselves and heard by a member of the deputation, Alexandre de Lameth (see his Histoire de l’Assemblée Constituante, i. 150), were afterwards attributed by Mirabeau to St. Priest in the Assembly (Moniteur, ii. 36), evidently as a revenge on St. Priest for having explained to the women that the Commune of Paris and not the King was responsible for the provisioning of the capital (see St. Priest’s letter to the National Assembly in Mémoires de Bailly, iii. 422).  But if, as several contemporaries state, Mirabeau himself was amongst the crowd outside the grille of the Château when these words were uttered, it is evident where he really heard them.

112. Evidence of the Chevalier de la Serre, witness ccxxvz. in Procédure du Châtelet.

113. Ferrières, i. 308.

114. Appel au Tribunal, by Mounier, p. 145.  Evidence of La Brosse de Belville, witness xxii. in Procédure du Châtelet. Miomandre de Sainte Marie, garde du corps, witness xviii., also stated that it was Lecointre who stirred up the crowd against the bodyguard.

115. Appel au Tribunal, by Mounier, p. 155.

116. Ibid. p. 148.

117. Appel au Tribunal, p. 148. Alexis Chauchard, captain of infantry, witness ci. in Procédure du Châtelet, stated that “ the King’s guards behaved in this affair with the greatest circumspection ;  that he saw the people throw mud and stones at them and vomit imprecations against them without their making any attempt to repulse this attack.”

118. It should be noted that eye-witnesses, unlike historians, do not describe the women who created this uproar in the Assembly as poissardes but as “light women,” some even of a class too superior to be regarded as “ kept women ” (see evidence of the Vicomte de Mirabeau, witness cxlvi. in Procédure du Châlelet), whilst nearly all state that a great many men disguised as women were seen amongst them. No doubt there were a certain number of “ women of the people ” who had been forced to march to Versailles amongst those calling out for bread, but the “ indecent scenes ” described were evidently produced by the Orléaniste conspirators and the women they had brought with them. It was mainly the leaders of the expedition who crowded into the Assembly ;  most of the poor creatures from the Faubourgs were left outside in the rain.

119. Mémoires de Madame de la Tour du Pin, i. 222.

120. Ferrières, i. 313 ;  evidence of De Boisse of the King’s bodyguard, witness ccxiv. in Procédure du Châtelet.

121. Montjoie, Conjuration de d’Orléans, iii. 90 ;  Weber, ii. 207 ;  Fantin Desodoards, i. 213 ;  Procédure du Châtelet, witnesses xxxvi., clvii, clxi., ccxxvi. ; Ferrières, i. 307.

122. Procédure du Châtelet, witnesses xci. and clvi.

123. Evidence of an eye-witness, Anne Marguerite Andelle, ccxxxvi. in Procédure du Châtelet, a linen-worker dragged by force to Versailles. On the money distributed amongst the soldiers of the Régiment de Flandre and amongst the people see also witnesses XLIX., LVI., LXXI., LXXXIL, cx. and cxxvi.

124. “ All the roués of the Palais Royal, the accomplices, or rather the instigators of the Duc d’Orléans, Laclos, Sillery, Latouche, d’Aiguillon, d’Oraison, Mirabeau, and several other minor personages, were on foot all night in the midst of this rabble, whom they intoxicated in every manner. Public evidence subsequently showed some of them as having adopted the most ignoble disguises so as not to be recognized ” (Weber, ii. 210).  See also Montjoie, Conjuration de d’Orléans, ii. 245, and evidence of the Chevalier de Lasserre, witness ccxxvi. in Procédure du Châtelet. Jean Diot, curé and deputy of the National Assembly, witness cx., described a conversation he heard during this night in which a man dressed as a woman, “ tall and of great corpulence,” offered two of the people fifty louis on behalf of the Due d’Orléans to murder the Queen on the following morning.

125. Evidence of M. de Sainte-Aulaire, lieutenant-commander in the bodyguard, witness clviii. in Procédure du Châtelet.

126. Mémoires de Madame de la Tour du Pin, i. 227.

127. “ At the moment that he was thrown down he saw a coloured trouser beneath the skirt of one of those who attacked him ” (evidence of Du Repaire, witness ix. in Procédure du Chételet).

128. Ferrières, i. 327.  See also the evidence of the Marquis de Digoine du Palais, witness clxviii. in Procédure du Châtelet :  “ In the same place (the Cour de Marbre) was M. le Due d’Orléans walking with M. Duport whom he held under the arm, and with whom he was talking in a very gay and easy manner.”  The duke was also seen at this hour by witnesses cxxvii., cxxxii., cxxxiii., cxxxvi., cxcv., who described him playing with a light switch he carried in his hand and “ laughing incessantly ”

129. Evidence of the Comte de Saint-Aulaire, witness clviii. in Procédure du Châtelet.

130. Ferrières says “ a few voices ” ;  Bertrand de Molleville, “ one voice only.”

131. “ M. le Comte de Mirabeau represents the danger of leaving the accustomed place for sittings ” (Moniteur, ii. 12).

132. Moniteur, ii. 12.

133. Montjoie, Conjuration de d’Orléans, ii. 272.

134. Many contemporaries, including Madame de Campan, say that these heads were carried in the procession, but Weber, the Deux Amis, Bertrand de Molleville, and Gouverneur Morris distinctly state that they were carried on ahead and arrived in Paris at twelve o’clock, before the procession had started from Versailles. The Chancelier Pasquier saw them carried into the Palais Royal (Mémoires, p. 72).

135. Montjoie, ii. 273 ;  Histoire de la Révolution de France, by the Vicomte F. de Conny ;  evidence of the Vicomte de Mirabeau, witness cxlvi. in Procédure du Châtelet.

136. A confirmation of the statement made by certain contemporaries that Laclos, Chamfort, and other leading Orléanistes took their mistresses with them.

137. “ Extrait du prociès verbal des representants de la Commune de Paris,” published in the Histoire Parlementaire of Buchez et Roux, iii. 137.

138. Mémoires de Rivarol, p. 263. Madame Campan in her Mémoires also refers to this visit of the poissardes to the Tuileries, but, contrary to Rivarol, describes them as identical with the women who marched on Versailles, and declares that they opened the interview with reproaches against the Queen, though they ended by crying “ Vive Marie Antoinette !  Vive notre bonne reine ! ”  But Madame Campan’s account of the 6th of October is incorrect in several points ;  moreover, we know that her loyalty to the Queen is more than doubtful, and since she refrained from any reference to the deputation to the Commune which testified so strongly in the Queen’s favour, she is quite as likely to have misrepresented the truth about the deputation to the Tuileries. On the loyalty of the “ Dames de la Halle ” at this moment see also Lettres d’un Attaché de Légation, date of October 16 ;  Documents pour servir à l’Histoire de la Révolution Française, by Charles d’Héricault and Gustave Bord, 2nd series, p. 260.

139. Mounier’s denunciation of the 6th of October in his Appel au Tribunal de l’Opinion publique contains one of the most eloquent testimonies to the democracy of Louis XVI. :  “ Without doubt the nation had been long oppressed by a crowd of abuses ;  the rights of citizens were not sufficiently protected against arbitrary power.  But had these abuses begun under the reign of Louis XVI. ?  Had he done nothing to merit our gratitude ?  What prince ever lent a more attentive ear to all those who spoke to him in favour of his people ? . . . Did he dishonour his reign by sanguinary orders, by proscriptions ?  Did he steal property ?  And what an atrocious exaggeration to describe the mistakes of his Ministers as excesses which wore out the patience of the people, and to consider them as sufficient reasons for dethroning the King !  I will not speak here of all the advantages we owe to his benevolence—the abolition of servitude in his domains, the abolition of corvées and of torture, the establishment of provincial administration, the civil state of the Protestants recognized, the liberty of the seas. Would he have lost all his authority if he had had less confidence in the love of his people ? ”  Note that all these reforms mentioned by Mounier dated from before the Revolution.

140. “ M. de Lafayette swore to me on the road (from Versailles to Paris on Oct. 6) that the atrocities had made a Royalist of him ”  (Letter from the Comte d’Estaing to the Queen, October 7, 1789).

141. Letter from Mr. Huber in Paris to Lord Auckland, dated October 15, 1789. The above conversation is given by Mr. Huber in French. His account of the incident is confirmed in the Memoirs of Lafayette.

142. Conjuration de d’Orléans, ii. 318.

143. Histoire Philosophique, by Fantin Désodoards, i. 222.

144. See besides the foregoing letter to Lord Auckland those from Lord Henry Fitzgerald in Paris to the Duke of Leeds, published in Dispatches from Paris, edited by Oscar Browning. On October 29 Fitzgerald writes :  “ In short, my Lord, the general impression is that the Prince was chief promoter of all the disturbances here, of the expedition on Monday the 5th of this month to Versailles, that his designs against the King were of a very criminal nature, that he aimed at the Regency of the kingdom for himself and proposed to bring his own party into power.  It is supposed also that M. de Lafayette is the person who discovered the conspiracy forming, and that, having made it known to the King, his Majesty in goodness of heart employed him on a pretended commission to England, as a pretext only, and to shield him by honourable exile from further pursuit.”
     Again on November 6 :  “ I must assure your Grace that I have every reason to believe that his commission to England was a pretended one,” etc.
      See also Playfair’s History of Jacobinism, p. 220, note ;  Biographical Memoirs of the French Revolution, by John Adolphus, ii. 249 and following.

145. Avant-propos to the Tableau des Témoins . . . daps la Procédure du Châtelet, 1790.

146. The whole of the inquiry is to be found at the British Museum under the heading Procédure criminelle instruite au Châtelet de Paris sur la dénonciation des faits arrivés à Versailles dans la journie du 6 octobre 1789.  Imprimée par ordre de l’Assemblée Nationale.  Museum press mark, 491.1.2.  Readers should beware of consulting the Orléaniste publication, Abrégé de la Procédure criminelle instruite au Châtelet, etc., in which the most important evidence is suppressed, but the brochure entitled Tableau des Témoins et recueil des faits les plus intéressants, etc., an answer to the aforesaid Abrégé, is a genuine résumé of the inquiry.

147. Von Sybel, the German historian, considers that “ the strongest evidence against the Duc d’Orléans was furnished several years later by the discovery of a letter bearing the date of October 6 in which he directs his banker not to pay the sums agreed upon :  ‘ Run quickly, my friend, to the banker . . . and tell him not to deliver the sum ;  the money has not been gained, the brat still lives ! ’ (le marmot vit encore).”  This would seem to indicate that some one had been bribed to murder the Dauphin, but the incident rests only on the authority of Réal, minister of police under the Empire, who declared that he had held the note in his hands. See Philippe d’Orléans Égalité, by Auguste Ducoin, p. 72.

148. Montjoie, Conjuration de d’Orléans, ii. 71 ;  Dispatches from Paris, ii. 311.

149. Appel au Tribunal, p. 76.  See also Fantin Désodoards, p. 283 :  “ The Orléanistes had no doubt that the Châtelet would regard this affair from the point of view indicated by themselves, and would throw all the odium on a few obscure ruffians who could easily be represented as secret agents of the Royalists.”

150. Montjoie, Conjuration de d’Orléans, iii. 84.  Fantin Désodoards (Histoire Philosophique, etc. i. 286) says Chabroud received 60,000 francs from the Duc d’Orléans for this report.

151. “ Perhaps ruffians had mingled with the multitude and it had become their mobile instrument.... A homicidal band advances, in its frenzy it respects nothing.  Soon there is nothing between the tigers and Louis XVI.”  (Speech of Chabroud).

152. For example, Dr. la Fisse, witness lv. in the Procédure du Châtelet, had stated that Mirabeau, on receiving a note from the Duc d’Orléans after the 6th of October saying that he was leaving for England, had exclaimed furiously to those around him, “ See here read !  He is as craven as a lackey, he is a blackguard (jean foutre) who does not deserve all the trouble taken for him ! ”  (Compare this with Camille Desmoulins’ description of Mirabeau’s “ anger at seeing himself abandoned,” quoted on p. 126 of this book.)  Mirabeau admitted having made this remark, but explained he only meant it was “ a mistake ” for the duke to go to England !

153. For the opinions of English contemporaries on the absolution of the Assembly at the instigation of “ the whitewasher Chabroud,” see, for example, Playfair’s History of Jacobinism, p. 220 ;  Robison’s Proofs of a Conspiracy, p. 392 ;  and the statement of Helen Maria Williams, a bitter enemy of the King, in her Correspondence of Louis XVI. i. 235.  Even Dumont, the friend—and evidently, for a time, the accomplice—of Mirabeau, admitted the doubtful honesty of the Assembly in exonerating him.  “ The events of October 5 and 6,” wrote Dumont, “ have been imputed to the Due d’Orléans, and the Châtelet implicated Mirabeau in the conspiracy.  The National Assembly declared that there was no case for conviction against one or the other.  But the absolution of the Assembly is not the absolution of history, and many veils yet remain to be raised before these events can be pronounced on ” (Souvenirs sur Mirabeau, p. 117).

154. Souvenirs sur Mirabeau, p. 96.

155. History of the French Revolution, by John Adolphus, ii. 298.

156. So thoroughly has this propaganda been carried out that in the popular edition of the Reflections, which the good taste of the British public made it necessary to publish, a preface has been inserted explaining that Burke was ill-informed on the subject and urging the reader to consult Mr. Arthur Young’s Travels in France.  But the writer carefully refrains from mentioning Arthur Young’s later work, The Example of France, which confirms every word uttered by Burke in rather stronger language !

157. L’Europe et la Révolution Française, by A. Sorel, ii. 26.