[1789 A.D.]

Men who were supposed devoted to the duke of Orleans showed themselves the most ardent. The wealth of that prince, his known profuseness, his enormous loans, his vicinage, his ambition, though vague, all conspired to insure his accusation. History, without designating individuals, can assert that gold was certainly distributed. If the sound part of the nation ardently desired liberty, if the uneasy and suffering populace was disposed to agitation, and anxious to better its condition, there were also instigators who sometimes excited that populace, and possibly directed some of its enterprises. But such an influence is not to be reckoned amongst the causes of the Revolution, for it is not with a handful of gold and secret manœuvres that a nation of twenty-five millions of men is stimulated to action.

An occasion for troubles soon presented itself. The French guards, chosen troops destined to form the king's guard, were at Paris.

Four

companies were alternately detached, and proceeded to do duty at Versailles. In addition to the extreme severity of the new discipline, these troops had also reason to complain of that of their colonel. During the pillage of Réveillon's house, they had indeed exhibited some ferocity against the people, but had afterwards been touched with remorse on that account, and, mingling every day with the citizens, they had yielded to their blandishments. Furthermore, soldiers and sub-officers felt that every chance of promotion was closed against them; they were irritated at seeing their young officers perform scarcely any duty, appear only on days of parade, and after the reviews not even accompany them to barracks. There was in the army, as well as in civil life, a third estate, which bore all burdens and participated in no benefit. A spirit of disobedience was not long in being manifested, and some of the guards were imprisoned in the Abbaye.

A general rush ensued to the Palais Royal: "To the Abbaye!" was the universal shout; and the multitude hastened thither. Its gates were

[1789 A.D.] forced, and the soldiers being released were borne away in triumph (June 30th). The assembly could not avoid interfering. Adopting a course at once adroit and prudent, it expressed to the Parisians its wishes for the maintenance of good order, recommending them not to disturb it; and at the same time sent a deputation to the king, to implore his clemency, as the infallible means of restoring concord and tranquillity. The king, moved by the moderation of the assembly, promised clemency when order should be re-established. The French guards were immediately conducted back to prison, and a royal pardon set them forthwith at liberty.

THE KING GATHERS TROOPS

All was going well up to this time; but the nobility, when coalescing with the two orders, had succumbed with reluctance, and on the promise that the junction should be of short duration. Necker had been retained merely to cover by his presence the secret plots that were hatching.

Troops were drawing near; the old marshal de Broglie had been named to the command-in-chief, and the baron de Besenval had received the particular command of those which surrounded Paris. Fifteen regiments, for the most part foreign, were in the vicinity of the capital. The boasting of the courtiers revealed the danger, and those conspirators, somewhat too prompt in their menaces, compromised their own schemes. The popular deputies were highly exasperated, and looked around for means of resist ance. It is unknown, and will probably forever remain unknown, what share secret arrangements had in the insurrection of the 14th of July; but the matter is of trifling moment. The aristocracy were plotting, and the popular party might very naturally plot also. The means employed being the same, the only question is as to the justice of the cause; and justice was assuredly not with those who desired to subvert the union of the orders, to dissolve the national representation, and wreak vengeance on its most courageous deputies.

Mirabeau conceived that the surest means of intimidating the court was to compel it to a public discussion of the measures which it was palpably projecting. For this purpose it was necessary to make a public denunciation. If it hesitated to answer, if it evaded the subject, it was convicted, and the nation was apprised and roused. Mirabeau caused the labours upon the constitution to be suspended, and moved that the king be requested to withdraw the troops. He mingled in his speech sentiments of respect for the monarch, with the most severe invectives against the government. He said that every day fresh troops were advancing; that all the communications were intercepted, the bridges and walks changed into military posts; that both notorious and secret facts, hurried orders and counter orders, struck all eyes, and announced war. Adding bitter reproaches to these details, he exclaimed, "They bring more soldiers to intimidate the nation than an enemy would probably encounter upon an invasion, and a thousand times more, at least, than they were able to collect in aid of friends, martyrs to their fidelity, and especially to maintain that alliance with the Dutch, so valuable, so dearly acquired, and so shamefully lost.”

His discourse was greeted with enthusiastic applause, and the address he proposed instantly adopted, modified only in one particular. When soliciting the removal of the troops, Mirabeau had proposed that they should be replaced by burgher guards, which paragraph was struck out. The address was then voted, only four voices dissenting. In this still celebrated document

[1789 A.D.] which it is said he did not himself compose, but had furnished all its ideas to one of his friends, Mirabeau predicted almost all that was about to happen: the insurrection of the multitude, and the defection of the troops from their friendly intercourse with the citizens. As bold as he was saga

cious, he dared to assure the king that his promises should not be vain.

The address was presented by a deputation of twenty-four members. The king, declining to explain himself, replied that this assembling of troops had no other object than the maintenance of public tranquillity, and the protection due to the assembly; and that, moreover, if that body had still any apprehensions, he would transfer it to Soissons or Noyon, and go himself to Compiègne. The assembly could scarcely feel satisfaction at such a reply, especially at the offer to remove it to a distance from the capital, and plant it between two camps. The count de Crillon argued that implicit faith should be placed on the word of a king and an honest man. "The word of an honest king," retorted Mirabeau, "is but a sad guarantee for the conduct of his ministry; our blind confidence in our kings has been our ruin: we asked the retreat of the troops, and not our flight before them. We must still insist on that measure without a moment's relaxation." This opinion was not supported. Mirabeau sufficiently urged open operations to induce his secret machinations to be pardoned, if it be true that any such were employed.

Necker had repeatedly told the king that if his services were disagreeable to him, he would cheerfully resign. "I rely upon your word," the king had upon such occasions replied. On the afternoon of the 11th of July, Necker received a note, in which the king called upon him to keep his word; urged him to depart; and added that he had sufficient confidence in him to hope that he would conceal his departure from all the world. Necker, justifying the honourable confidence of the monarch, set off without saying a word to his friends, or even to his daughter, and in a few hours was several leagues from Versailles. The next day, July 12th, was a Sunday.

A rumour was spread at Paris that Necker had been dismissed, as also Montmorin, La Luzerne, Puységur, and Saint-Priest. As their successors, were announced De Breteuil, La Vauguyon, De Broglie, Foulon, and Damécort, almost all notorious for their opposition to the popular cause. Alarm became predominant in Paris. The Palais Royal was thronged. A young man, afterwards known for his republican enthusiasm, Camille Desmoulins, sprang upon a table, drew forth pistols, with an exhortation to arm, tore a leaf from a tree, which he converted into a cockade, and induced everyone to follow his example.

THE PEOPLE TAKE UP ARMS (1789 A.D.)

The trees were instantaneously stripped, and the crowd repaired to a museum containing busts in wax. They seized upon those of Necker and the duke of Orleans, who was said to be menaced with exile, and then spread themselves over the quarters of Paris. This mob was passing along the street St. Honoré, when it met near the square Vendôme a detachment of the royal German regiment, which fell upon it, wounded several persons, and amongst others a soldier of the French guards. The latter, already disposed in favour of the people and against the royal Germans, with which regiment they had had a contest some days before, were quartered near the place Louis XV, and now fired upon their opponents.1

[ Croker insists that the dismissal of Necker was only the excuse for an outbreak previously preparing; he emphasises the influence of the duke of Orleans as the procurer and payer of much violence.]