Chapter XIV

THE KING RECOGNIZES THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY.

Rout of the Cavalry of Lambesc.--Tidings of the Capture of the
Bastille reach Versailles.--Consternation of the Court.--Midnight
Interview between the Duke of Liancourt and the King.--New Delegation
from the Assembly.--The King visits the Assembly.--The King escorted
back to his Palace.--Fickleness of the Monarch.--Deputation sent to
the Hotel de Ville.--Address of La Fayette.--La Fayette appointed
Commander of the National Guard.

While these scenes were transpiring in Paris, the court, but poorly informed respecting the real attitude of affairs, were preparing, on that very evening, with all the concentrated troops of the monarchy, to drown the insurrection in Paris in blood, to disperse the Assembly, consigning to the dungeon and the scaffold its prominent members, and to rivet anew those shackles of despotism which for ages had bound the people of France hand and foot.

M. Berthier, one of the high officers of the crown, aided by his father-in-law, M. Foulon, under minister of war, was intensely active marshaling the troops, and giving orders for the attack. Conscious of the opposition they must encounter, and regardless of the carnage which would ensue, they had planned a simultaneous assault upon the city at seven different points. Entertaining no apprehension that the Bastille could be taken, or that the populace, however desperate, could present any effectual resistance to the disciplined troops of the crown, they were elated with the hope that the decisive hour for the victory of the court had arrived.

The queen could not conceal her exultation. With the Duchess of Polignac, one of the most haughty of the aristocratic party, and with others of the court, she went to the Orangery, where a regiment of foreign troops were stationed, excited the enthusiasm of the soldiers by her presence, and caused wine and gold to be freely distributed among them. In the intoxication of the moment the soldiers sang, danced, shouted, clashed their weapons, and swore eternal fidelity to the queen.[176]

But these bright hopes were soon blighted. A cloud of dust was seen, moving with the sweep of the whirlwind through the Avenue of Paris. It was the cavalry of Lambesc flying before the people. Soon after a messenger rushed breathless into the presence of the court, and announced that the Bastille was taken, and that the troops in Paris refused to fire upon the people. While he was yet speaking another came with the tidings that De Launey and Flesselles were both slain. The queen was deeply affected and wept bitterly. "The idea," writes Madame Campan, "that the king had lost such devoted subjects wounded her to the heart." The court party was now plunged into consternation. The truth flashed upon them that while the people were exasperated to the highest pitch, the troops could no longer be depended upon for the defense of the court.

The masses, enraged by the insults and aggressions of the privileged classes, still appreciated the kindly nature of the king, and spoke of him with respect and even affection. Efforts were made by the court to conceal from Louis the desperate state of affairs, and at his usual hour of eleven o'clock he retired to his bed, by no means conscious that the sceptre of power had passed from his hands.

The Duke of Liancourt, whose office as grand master of the wardrobe, allowed him to enter the chamber of the king at any hour, was a sincere friend of Louis. He could not see him rush thus blindly to destruction, and, accordingly, entering his chamber and sitting down by his bedside, he gave him a truthful narrative of events in Paris. The king, astonished and alarmed, exclaimed, "Why, it is a revolt!" "Nay, sire," replied Liancourt, "it is a revolution!"

The king immediately resolved that he would the next morning, without any ceremony, visit the National Assembly, and attempt a reconciliation. The leading members of the court, now fully conscious of their peril, were assembled in the saloons of the Duchess of Polignac, some already suggested flight from the realm to implore the aid of foreign kings. The Assembly was still, during these midnight hours, deliberating in great anxiety. Many of the members, utterly exhausted by their uninterrupted service by day and by night, were slumbering upon the benches. It was known by all that this was the night assigned for the great assault; and a rumor was passing upon all lips that the hall of the Assembly had been undermined that all the deputies might be blown into the air.

Paris at this hour presented a scene of awful tumult. It was momentarily expected that the royal troops would arrive with cavalry and artillery, and that from the heights of Montmartre bomb-shells would be rained down upon the devoted city. Men, women, and children were preparing for defense. The Bastille was guarded and garrisoned. The pavements were torn up, barricades erected, and ditches dug. The windows were illuminated to throw the light of day into the streets. Paving stones and heavy articles of furniture were conveyed to the roofs of the houses to be thrown down upon the assailing columns. Every smith was employed forging pikes, and thousands of hands were busy casting bullets. Tumultuous throngs of characterless and desperate men swept through the streets, rioting in the general anarchy. The watch-words established by the citizen patrols were "Washington and Liberty." Thus passed the night of the 14th of July in the Chateau of Versailles, in the hall of the Assembly, and in the streets of Paris.

At two o'clock in the morning of the 15th the Assembly ceased its deliberations for a few hours, and the members, though the session was still continued, sought such repose as they could obtain in their seats. At eight o'clock the discussions were resumed. It was resolved to send a deputation of twenty-four members, again to implore the king to respect the rights of the people, and no longer to suffer them to be goaded to madness by insults and oppression. As the deputation was about to leave, Mirabeau rose and said, "Tell the king that the foreign hordes surrounding us received yesterday the caresses, encouragement, and bribes of the court; that all night long these foreign satellites, gorged with money and wine, in their impious songs have predicted the enslavement of France, and have invoked the destruction of the National Assembly; tell him that in his very palace the courtiers have mingled dancing with these impious songs, and that such was the prelude to the massacre of St. Bartholomew."

He had hardly uttered these words ere the Duke of Liancourt entered and announced that the king was coming in person to visit the Assembly. The doors were thrown open, and, to the astonishment of the Assembly, the king, without guard or escort and accompanied only by his two brothers, entered. A shout of applause greeted him. In a short and touching speech the king won to himself the hearts of all. He assured them of his confidence in the Assembly; that he had never contemplated its violent dissolution; and that he sincerely desired to unite with the Assembly in consulting for the best interests of the nation. He also declared that he had issued orders for the withdrawal of the troops both from Paris and Versailles, and that, hereafter, the counsels of the National Assembly should be the guide of his administration.[177]

This conciliatory speech was received by the mass of the deputies with rapturous applause. The aristocratic party were, however, greatly chagrined, and, retiring by themselves, with whispers and frowns gave vent to their vexation; but the general applause drowned the feeble murmurs of the nobles. Nearly the whole Assembly rose in honor of the king as he left, and, surrounding him in tumultuous joy, they escorted him back to his palace. A vast crowd from Paris and Versailles thronged the streets, filling the air with their loyal and congratulatory shouts. The queen, who was sitting anxiously in her boudoir, heard the uproar and was greatly terrified. Soon it was announced to her that the king was returning in triumph: she stepped out upon a balcony and looked down upon the broad avenue filled with a countless multitude. The king was on foot; the deputies encircled him, interlacing their arms to protect him from the crowd, which was surging tumultuously around with every manifestation of attachment and joy.

The people really loved the kind-hearted king; but they already understood that foible in his character which eventually led to his ruin. A woman of Versailles pressed her way through the deputies to the king and, with great simplicity, said,

"Oh, my king! are you quite sincere? Will they not make you change your mind again?"

"No," replied the king, "I will never change."

The feeble Louis did not know himself. He was then sincere; but in less than an hour he was again wavering, being undecided whether to carry out his pacific policy of respecting the just demands of the people, or to fly from the realm, and invoke the aid of foreign despots, to quench the rising flame of liberty in blood. It was well known that the queen, the brothers of the king, and the Polignacs, were the implacable foes of reform, and that it was through their councils that the Assembly and the nation were menaced with violence.[178]

As soon as the queen was seen upon the balcony, with her son and daughter by her side, the shouts of applause were redoubled. But now murmurs began to mingle with the acclaim. A few execrations were heard against the obnoxious members of the court. Still the general voice was enthusiastic in loyalty; and when the queen descended to the foot of the marble stairs and threw herself into the arms of the king, every murmur was hushed, and confidence and happiness seemed to fill all hearts.[179]

A cabinet council was immediately held in the palace to deliberate respecting the next step to be taken. The Assembly returned to their hall and immediately chose a deputation of one hundred members, with La Fayette at their head, to convey to the municipal government at the Hotel de Ville in Paris the joyful tidings of their reconciliation with the king. A courier was sent in advance to inform of the approach of the delegation.

It was now two o'clock in the afternoon. The deputation left Versailles accompanied by an immense escort of citizen-soldiers, and followed by a crowd which could not be numbered. They were received in Paris with almost delirious enthusiasm. Throughout the whole night the citizens, men, women, and children, had been at work piling up barricades, tearing up the pavements, and preparing with every conceivable weapon and measure of offense and defense to meet the contemplated attack from the artillery and cavalry of the crown. Fathers and mothers, pallid with terror, had anticipated the awful scenes of the sack of the city by a brutal soldiery. Inexpressible was the joy to which they surrendered themselves in finding that the king now openly avowed himself their friend and espoused the popular cause. Windows and balconies were crowded, the streets were strewn with flowers, and the deputies were greeted with waving of handkerchiefs and cheers.

At the Place Louis XV. the deputies left their carriages and were conducted through the garden of the Tuileries, greeted by the music of martial bands, to the vestibule of the palace. There they were met by a committee of the municipality, with one of the clergy, the Abbe Fauchet, at its head, who accompanied them to the Hotel de Ville.

La Fayette addressed the electors, informing them of the king's speech, and describing the monarch's return to his palace in the midst of the National Assembly and of the people of Versailles, "protected by their love and their inviolable fidelity." Lally Tollendal, who was remarkable for his eloquence, then addressed the electors and the assembled multitude. He spoke of the king, whom he loved, in the highest terms of eulogy, and in a strain so persuasive and spirit-stirring that he was immediately crowned with a wreath of flowers, and, in a tumult of transport, was carried in triumph to the window to receive the applause of the thousands who filled the streets. Love for the king seemed to be an instinct with the populace. Shouts of "Vive le Roi!" rose from the vast assembly, which were reverberated from street to street through all the thronged thoroughfares of the metropolis.

The king had authorized the establishment of the National Guard, but the guard was yet without a commander-in-chief. The government of Paris also, by the death of Flesselles, had no head. There was in the hall of the Assembly a bust of La Fayette which had been presented by the United States to the city of Paris. It stood by the side of the bust of Washington. As the momentous question was discussed, who should be intrusted with the command of the National Guard, a body which now numbered hundreds of thousands and was spread all over the kingdom, Moreau de St. Mery, Chairman of the Municipality, rose, and, without uttering a word, silently pointed to the bust of La Fayette. The gesture was decisive. A general shout of acclaim filled the room. He who had fought the battles of liberty in America was thus intrusted with the command of the citizen-soldiery of France. M. Bailly was then chosen successor of Flesselles, not with the title of Prevot des Marchands, but with the more comprehensive one of Mayor of Paris.

On the 27th of September the banners of the National Guard, each one of which had been previously consecrated in the church of its district, were all taken to the Cathedral of Notre Dame, and there, with the utmost pomp of civil, military, and religious ceremonies, were consecrated to the service of God and the nation.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 174: It has not subsequently appeared that there was any conclusive evidence of the existence of this letter.]

[Footnote 175: Histoire Des Montagnards, par Alphonse Esquiros, p. 17.]

[Footnote 176: The Duchess of Polignac was the most intimate friend of the queen. Though enjoying an income from the crown of two hundred and ninety thousand francs ($58,400) annually, she was deemed, when compared with others of the nobles, poor. The queen had assigned her a magnificent suite of apartments in the Palace of Versailles at the head of the marble stairs. The saloons of the duchess were the rendezvous of the court in all its plottings against the people. Here originated that aristocratic club which called into being antagonistic popular clubs all over the kingdom.--_Madame Campan_, vol. i., p. 139; _Weber_, vol. ii., p. 23.]

[Footnote 177: Hist. Phil. de la Rev. Fr., par Ant. Fantin Desodoards, vol. i., p. 165; M. Rabaud de St. Etienne, vol. i., p. 69; Hist. Parlem., vol. ii., p. 117.]

[Footnote 178: Necker, speaking of the plots of the court, writes, "I could never ascertain certainly what design was contemplated. There were secrets and after-secrets, and I am convinced that the king himself was not in all of them. It was intended, perhaps, according to circumstances, to draw the monarch into measures which they did not dare to mention to him beforehand."--Vol. ii., p. 85.]

[Footnote 179: Madame Campan's Memoirs of Marie Antoinette, vol. ii., p. 48.]