Chapter 11

FOOTNOTES:[233]For overwhelming evidence that such was the state of the public mind, see Weber, vol. i., p. 257; Beaulieu, vol. ii., p. 203; Amis de la Liberté, vol. iv., p. 2-6; Michelet, vol. i., p. 284.[234]Weber, an eye-witness of the king's reception in Paris, though a zealous Royalist, testifies that the reception was most kind and affectionate on the part of the masses of the people. See Weber, vol. ii., p. 228. See also Arthur Young, vol. i., p. 264-280.[235]Le Chateau des Tuileries, par Roussel, in Hist. Parl., vol. iv., p. 195.[236]That hall has since been destroyed. It stood upon the place now occupied by the houses No. 36 and 38 Rue de Rivoli.[237]Even the most zealous of the revolutionary journals denounced with unmeasured severity the murder of François. Loustalot exclaimed, "Des Français! des Français! non, non de tels monstres n'appartiennent à aucun pays; le crime est leur element, le gibet leur patrie."[238]On the 15th of March, M. de Lamarck took to Mirabeau the overtures of the court, but found him very cool. When pressed by Lamarck, he said that the throne could only be restored by establishing it upon a basis of liberty; that, if the court wanted any thing else, he would oppose instead of serving it.—Michelet, p. 328.[239]In attestation of the correctness of these remarks, see the statements of Mirabeau, La Fayette, and Alexander de Lameth.[240]Michelet, vol. i., p. 290.[241]In the army there was the same inequality. According to the budget for war in 1784, the officers received forty-six millions of francs, and the whole body of soldiers but forty-four. "It is true," says Michelet, "that, under Louis XVI., another pay was added, settled with the cudgel. This was to imitate the famous discipline of Prussia, and was supposed to contain the whole secret of the victories of Frederick the Great: man driven like a machine, and punished like a child." The soldiers under the Empire knew how to appreciate the change.[242]"Every body was acquainted with the morals of the prelates and the ignorance of the inferior clergy. The curates possessed some virtues but no information. Wherever they ruled they were an obstacle to every improvement of the people, and caused them to retrograde. To quote but one example, Poitou, civilized in the sixteenth century, became barbarous under their influence; they were preparing for us the civil war of Vendée."—Michelet, p. 222.[243]Some curious facts were elicited during the progress of this discussion respecting the manner in which a portion of the vast revenues of the Church had been obtained. The clergy of Condom promised the simple, kind-hearted peasants, in consideration for a large quantity of grain, that they would every year conduct two hundred and fifty souls from purgatory directly to Paradise. In some places a regular tariff of prices had been established for the pardon of crimes. Absolution for incest could be purchased for one dollar, arson required one dollar and a quarter, parricide one dollar, and absolution could be obtained for all sins united for about sixteen dollars. These prices seem very moderate. But it must be remembered that the peasants wereexcessivelypoor, and could not, even to escape from purgatory, pay large sums.—Villiaumé, p. 52.[244]Histoire des Montagnards, par Alphonse Esquiros, p. 25.[245]In the Faubourg St. Antoine, which contained a population of thirty thousand, it is said that there were but two hundredactive citizens. Marat, in his addresses to the "unfortunate citizens of the faubourgs," urged them to vote, notwithstanding the decree of the Assembly. "No power under the sun," said he, "can deprive you of the right of suffrage, which is inherent in society itself."[246]The price of salt immediately fell from fourteen sous a pound to less than one sou.—Villiaumé.[247]It was not until the month of March, 1792, that the guillotine was first used,[248]"The government of the Revolution was rapidly becoming established. The Assembly had given to the new régime its monarch, its national representation, its territorial division, its armed force, its municipal and administrative power, its popular tribunals, its currency, its clergy; it had made an arrangement with respect to its debt, and had found means to reconstruct property without injustice."—Miguet, p. 87.[249]Michelet's French Revolution, p. 358.[250]"What was the National Assembly doing at this time in Paris? Its more than Christian meekness is a surprising spectacle."—Michelet, p. 365.

FOOTNOTES:

[233]For overwhelming evidence that such was the state of the public mind, see Weber, vol. i., p. 257; Beaulieu, vol. ii., p. 203; Amis de la Liberté, vol. iv., p. 2-6; Michelet, vol. i., p. 284.

[234]Weber, an eye-witness of the king's reception in Paris, though a zealous Royalist, testifies that the reception was most kind and affectionate on the part of the masses of the people. See Weber, vol. ii., p. 228. See also Arthur Young, vol. i., p. 264-280.

[235]Le Chateau des Tuileries, par Roussel, in Hist. Parl., vol. iv., p. 195.

[236]That hall has since been destroyed. It stood upon the place now occupied by the houses No. 36 and 38 Rue de Rivoli.

[237]Even the most zealous of the revolutionary journals denounced with unmeasured severity the murder of François. Loustalot exclaimed, "Des Français! des Français! non, non de tels monstres n'appartiennent à aucun pays; le crime est leur element, le gibet leur patrie."

[238]On the 15th of March, M. de Lamarck took to Mirabeau the overtures of the court, but found him very cool. When pressed by Lamarck, he said that the throne could only be restored by establishing it upon a basis of liberty; that, if the court wanted any thing else, he would oppose instead of serving it.—Michelet, p. 328.

[239]In attestation of the correctness of these remarks, see the statements of Mirabeau, La Fayette, and Alexander de Lameth.

[240]Michelet, vol. i., p. 290.

[241]In the army there was the same inequality. According to the budget for war in 1784, the officers received forty-six millions of francs, and the whole body of soldiers but forty-four. "It is true," says Michelet, "that, under Louis XVI., another pay was added, settled with the cudgel. This was to imitate the famous discipline of Prussia, and was supposed to contain the whole secret of the victories of Frederick the Great: man driven like a machine, and punished like a child." The soldiers under the Empire knew how to appreciate the change.

[242]"Every body was acquainted with the morals of the prelates and the ignorance of the inferior clergy. The curates possessed some virtues but no information. Wherever they ruled they were an obstacle to every improvement of the people, and caused them to retrograde. To quote but one example, Poitou, civilized in the sixteenth century, became barbarous under their influence; they were preparing for us the civil war of Vendée."—Michelet, p. 222.

[243]Some curious facts were elicited during the progress of this discussion respecting the manner in which a portion of the vast revenues of the Church had been obtained. The clergy of Condom promised the simple, kind-hearted peasants, in consideration for a large quantity of grain, that they would every year conduct two hundred and fifty souls from purgatory directly to Paradise. In some places a regular tariff of prices had been established for the pardon of crimes. Absolution for incest could be purchased for one dollar, arson required one dollar and a quarter, parricide one dollar, and absolution could be obtained for all sins united for about sixteen dollars. These prices seem very moderate. But it must be remembered that the peasants wereexcessivelypoor, and could not, even to escape from purgatory, pay large sums.—Villiaumé, p. 52.

[244]Histoire des Montagnards, par Alphonse Esquiros, p. 25.

[245]In the Faubourg St. Antoine, which contained a population of thirty thousand, it is said that there were but two hundredactive citizens. Marat, in his addresses to the "unfortunate citizens of the faubourgs," urged them to vote, notwithstanding the decree of the Assembly. "No power under the sun," said he, "can deprive you of the right of suffrage, which is inherent in society itself."

[246]The price of salt immediately fell from fourteen sous a pound to less than one sou.—Villiaumé.

[247]It was not until the month of March, 1792, that the guillotine was first used,

[248]"The government of the Revolution was rapidly becoming established. The Assembly had given to the new régime its monarch, its national representation, its territorial division, its armed force, its municipal and administrative power, its popular tribunals, its currency, its clergy; it had made an arrangement with respect to its debt, and had found means to reconstruct property without injustice."—Miguet, p. 87.

[249]Michelet's French Revolution, p. 358.

[250]"What was the National Assembly doing at this time in Paris? Its more than Christian meekness is a surprising spectacle."—Michelet, p. 365.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE KING ACCEPTS THE CONSTITUTION.

The King visits the Assembly.—His Speech.—The Priests rouse the Populace.—The King's Salary.—Petition of Talma.—Views of Napoleon.—Condemnation and Execution of the Marquis of Favrus.—Spirit of the New Constitution.—National Jubilee.—The Queen sympathizes with the Popular Movement.—Writings of Edmund Burke.

Onthe 4th of February the king, without any previous announcement, to the surprise of all, entered the hall of the Assembly. A burst of welcome greeted his entrance. The tidings of this movement spread with electric speed through Paris, and thousands of spectators speedily filled all parts of the hall to listen to the king's speech. The king stood upon the platform, and addressed the Assembly with words of dignity and eloquence which seemed above his nature. There was such an air of sincerity pervading every sentence that no one could doubt that he was giving utterance to his real opinions. This remarkable speech contained the following expressions:[251]

"Gentlemen, the critical circumstances in which France is placed bring me among you. A grand goal is presented to your view, but it is requisite that it be attained without any increase of agitation, and without any new convulsions. It was, I must say, in a more agreeable and a more quietmanner that I had hoped to lead you to it, when I formed the design of assembling you, and of bringing together for the public welfare the talents and the opinions of the representatives of the nation; but my happiness and my glory are not the less connected with the success of your labors.

"I think that the time is come when it is of importance to the interests of the state that I should associate myself, in a more express and manifest manner, in the execution and success of all that you have planned for the benefit of France. I can not seize a more signal occasion than when you submit to my acceptance decrees destined to establish a new organization in the kingdom, which must have so important and so propitious an influence on the happiness of my subjects and on the prosperity of this empire.

"You know, gentlemen, it is more than ten years ago, at a time when the wishes of the nation relative to provincial assemblies had not yet been expressed, I began to substitute that kind of administration for the one which ancient and long habit had sanctioned. You have improved upon these views in several ways, and the most essential, no doubt, is that equal and wisely-calculated subdivision which, by breaking down the ancient partitions between province and province, and establishing a general and complete system of equilibrium, more intimately unites all parts of the kingdom in one and the same spirit, in one and the same interest. This grand idea, this salutary design, is all your own. I will promote, I will second, by all the means in my power, the success of that vast organization on which depends the welfare of France.

"Let it be known every where that the monarch and the representatives of the nation are united in the same interest, in the same wish. Some day, I fondly believe, every Frenchman, without exception, will acknowledge the benefit of the total suppression of the differences of order and condition. No doubt those who have relinquished their pecuniary privileges—those who will no longer form, as of old, an order in the state, find themselves subjected to sacrifices, the importance of which I fully appreciate; but I am persuaded that they will have generosity enough to seek an indemnification in all the public advantages of which the establishment of national assemblies holds out a hope.

"I will defend, therefore, I will uphold constitutional liberty, the principles of which the public wish, in accordance with mine, has sanctioned. I will do more, and, in concert with the queen, who shares all my sentiments, I will early adapt the mind and heart of my son to the new order of things which circumstances have brought about. I will accustom him from his very first years to seek happiness in the happiness of the French, and ever to acknowledge that, in spite of the language of flatterers, a wise constitution will preserve him from the dangers of inexperience, and that a just liberty adds a new value to the sentiments of affection and loyalty of which the nation has, for so many ages, given such touching proofs to its kings."

These noble words, which were uttered with as much sincerity as a weak and vacillating mind was capable of cherishing, were received with the most enthusiastic expressions of pleasure and gratitude. Thunders of applause filled the house, in which the galleries tumultuously joined. All past jealousies seemed forgotten forever, and the queen and the dauphin shared inthe transporting acclaim. The multitude, with shouts of applause, conducted the king back to the Tuileries, while the Assembly voted thanks to him and to the queen.

The king had thus publicly accepted the Constitution even before it was completed, and promised to support it. Each deputy took the oath to uphold the "Constitution decreed by the National Assembly and accepted by the king." The example was contagious, and the oath was repeated, with festivities and illuminations, in every district of Paris, and through all the cities and villages of France.

Thus far the reforms adopted had been, on the whole, most eminently wise, and such as the welfare of the nation imperiously demanded. Had the privileged classes acceded, as they ought to have done, to these measures of justice, and contributed their influence in favor of law and order, all might have been well, and the Iliad of woes which succeeded might never have been known. But the nobles and the higher clergy did every thing in their power to stimulate the mob to violence, to fill France with lawlessness and blood, that they might more effectually appeal to religious fanaticism at home and to despotism abroad to forge chains and rivet them anew upon the enfranchised people.

Every effort was now made to combine the clergy against the Revolution—to rouse the ignorant and superstitious masses with the cry that religion was in danger, and to march the armies of surrounding monarchies in a war of invasion upon France. The nobles of the Church and the State were responsible for that terrific outburst of the mob, which might easily have been repressed if they would have united with the true patriots in favor of liberty and of law.[252]

In many of the rural districts the priests roused the fanatic populace to forcible resistance. Many of the priests had been in a condition of almost compulsory subservience to the higher clergy. Trained toobedienceas the primal law of the Church, they combined their efforts with those of the exasperated nobility, and thus, in several of the remote sections of France, mobs were instigated against the Revolution. Here commenced the conflict between the people and the clergy. Pure democracy and true Christianity meet and embrace. They have but one spirit—fraternity, charity. Despotism and ecclesiasticism are also natural congenial allies. The pope and the king, the cardinal and the duke, all over Europe became accomplices.

The Assembly, with much delicacy, invited the king himself to fix the income necessary for the suitable support of the crown. He fixed it at twenty-five millions of francs ($5,000,000). This enormous salary, two hundredtimes as much as the President of the United States receives, was instantly voted by acclamation. There were but four votes in opposition. Nothing can more conclusively show than this the kindly feelings of the people toward the monarch, and thethendesire merely to ingraft the institutions of liberty upon the monarchy.

The Revolution had humanely extended its helping hand to all the debased and defrauded classes, to the Protestants, the Jews, the negroes, the slaves, the play-actors. The relentless proscription of play-actors is one of the most remarkable of the contradictions and outrages of the old régime. They were doubtless a very worthless set of men and women; but that the Church should have refused them either marriage or burial is indeed extraordinary. "Oh, barbarous prejudices!" exclaimed Michelet. "The two first men of England and France, the author ofOthelloand ofTartufe, were they not comedians?"

Notwithstanding the general decree of democratic enfranchisement pronounced by the Assembly, the world-renowned Talma, having applied to the Church for the rite of marriage, which the Church alone could solemnize, met with a peremptory refusal. He sent the following characteristic petition to the National Assembly:

"I implore the succor of the constitutional law, and claim the rights of a citizen, from which rights the Constitution does not exclude me because I am a member of the theatrical profession. I have chosen a companion to whom I wish to be united by the ties of marriage. My father has given his consent. I have called upon the curé of St. Sulpice for the publication of the banns. After a first refusal I have served upon him a judicial summons. He replies to the sheriff that he has referred the matter to his ecclesiastical superiors, and is instructed by them that the Church refuses to perform the rites of marriage for a play-actor unless he first renounces that profession. I can, it is true, renounce my profession, be married, and resume my profession again the next day. But I do not wish to show myself unworthy of that religion which they invoke against me, and unworthy of the Constitution in thus accusing your decrees of error and your laws of powerlessness."[253]

It was in such ways as these that the Romish Church began to throw every possible obstacle in the way of liberty, and to exasperate the people, rejoicing in their new enfranchisement.

It was a long stride which Napoleon took when he subsequently conferred the Cross of the Legion of Honor upon an illustrious tragedian. "My object," says Napoleon, "was to destroy the whole of the feudal system as organized by Charlemagne. I sought for true merit among all ranks of the great mass of French people, and was anxious to organize a true and general system of equality. I was desirous that every Frenchman should be admissible to all the employments and dignities of the state, provided he was possessed of talents and character equal to the performance of the duties, whatever might be his family. In a word, I was eager to abolish to the last trace the privileges of the ancient nobility, and to establish a government which, at the same time that it held the reins of government with a firm hand,should still be apopular government. The oligarchs of every country in Europe soon perceived my design, and it was for this reason that war to the death was carried on against me by England. The noble families of London, as well as those of Vienna, think themselves prescriptively entitled to the occupation of all the important offices in the state. Their birth is regarded by them as a substitute for talents and capacities."

Soon after Napoleon's attainment of the consulship he restored to France the Christian religion, which revolutionary fury had swept away. In consistency with his unvarying principles, he established perfect freedom of opinion and of worship. Some of the reinstated priests began to assume much of their former arrogance. A celebrated actress died in Paris. A priest, adopting the intolerance of the old régime, refused her remains Christian burial. Napoleon caused the following article to be inserted the next day in the Moniteur, expressive of his emphatic denunciation:

"The curate of St. Roche, in a moment of hallucination, has refused the rites of burial to Mademoiselle Cameroi. One of his colleagues, a man of sense, received the procession into the church of St. Thomas, where the burial service was performed with the usual solemnities. The Archbishop of Paris has suspended the curate of St. Roche for three months, to give him time to recollect that Jesus Christ commanded us to pray even for our enemies. Being thus called by meditation to a proper sense of his duties, he may learn that all these superstitious observances, the offspring of an age of credulity or of crazed imaginations, tend only to the discredit of true religion, and have been proscribed by the recent Concordat of the French Church."

The trial of Marquis Favrus was continued. On the 18th of February he was adjudged guilty of plotting the crime of assassinating Bailly and La Fayette, of seizing and abducting the king, and of exciting insurrection and civil war. He was sentenced to be taken by the executioner to the principal door of the Cathedral of Nôtre Dame, in a tumbrel, barefooted, bareheaded, and dressed simply in his night-robe, with a rope round his neck, a blazing torch in his hands, and with a label on his breast and back inscribed with the words "Conspirator against the State." After having on his knees asked pardon of God, the nation, the king, and justice, he was to read aloud his own death-warrant, and then to be taken to the Place de Grève and hanged. This cruel sentence was immediately executed, the court, conscious of its powerlessness, making no attempts to save him.

This was the first time that a nobleman had been hanged, and the mob, deeming him an infamous conspirator against the rights of the people, rejoiced in his execution. They witnessed with delight this indication that the reign ofequalityhad really commenced; that the sword of retribution would hereafter fall as surely upon the head of thehigh-bornas upon that of thelow-bornoffender.

It was now nearly a year since the fall of the Bastille, and France, even in the midst of famine, and almost starvation, had passed from the reign of the most execrable despotism to the reign of constitutional liberty. Never before had so vast a revolution been effected so peaceably. The enslaved people had broken and thrown away their fetters, and were enfranchised. Instead of falling upon their past oppressors in indiscriminate massacre,they had spared them, wresting from them only the exclusive privileges of tyranny. The Assembly sought only constitutional liberty and peace with all the world. The decrees enacted by the Constituent Assembly were essentially the same with those adopted by republican America.

THE MARQUIS OF FAVRUS READING HIS DEATH-WARRANT.

Free principles had been infused into the government;lettres de cachet, the most infamous instruments of oppression the world has ever known, abolished; feudal impediments and oppressions of every kind removed; the right of suffrage established and made almost universal; the offices of honor and emolument in the state thrown open to merit, with but the slightest limitations; religious liberty proclaimed, the Protestant, the Jew, the negro, and the play-actor enfranchised; law made uniform, criminal jurisprudence reformed, monasteries, those haunts of indolence and vice, abolished, and the military force of the country intrusted to the citizens of the country. Such a transformation from the slavery, corruption, and horror of the old régimewas translation from the dungeon to the blaze of day. All this was done almost without violence. The court here and there shot down a few hundred, some chateaux were burned, and there were a few acts of mob violence; but that a nation of twenty millions of people should have been able to accomplish so vast a change so bloodlessly must ever be a marvel.

But the armies of aristocratic opposition were gathering to crush this liberty, which threatened to spread to other states. Despotic Europe combined, and with all her accumulated armies fell upon the people of France. The recently emancipated people fought to protect themselves from new chains with all the blind fury and ferocity of despair. Then ensued scenes of blood and woes which appalled the world.[254]

The French people, unconscious of the terrific storm which was gathering, prepared for a great national jubilee. It was to be held on the 14th of July, the anniversary of the fall of the Bastille. All France was to be represented at the festival. The Field of Mars, a vast parade-ground in Paris, a mile in length and half a mile in width, extending from the military school to the banks of the Seine, was the selected theatre for this national festivity. The centre was made smooth as a floor, and the removed earth was placed on the sides so as to create slopes in the form of an amphitheatre capable of accommodating nearly half a million of spectators. But so immense was the work to be performed, that at length apprehensions were felt that the field could not be in readiness in season for the appointed fête. No sooner was this idea suggested than all Paris, in a flame of enthusiasm, volunteered to aid in the toil.

A more extraordinary scene of enthusiasm earth has never witnessed. All heads and hearts were electrified. Men, women, and children, of all ages and ranks, spread over the field and shared in the toil. The Carthusian monk and the skeptical philosopher, the hooded nun and the brawny fish-woman, merchants, lawyers, students, scholars, gray-haired patriots, and impetuous boys, matrons and maidens, delicate ladies and the rugged daughters of toil, blended harmoniously together in immense groups, ever varied, incessantly moving, yet guided by engineers with almost military order and precision. Moving tents and portable restaurants, decorated with tricolored ribbons, added to the gayety of the spectacle. Trumpets sounded the charge against banks of earth, and willing hands wielded energetically all the potent enginery of wheel-barrows, hoes, and spades. Bands of music animated and enlivened the scene, blended with shouts of joy and songs of fraternal sympathy. Three hundred thousand persons were thus seen at once laboring upon this spacious arena to rear an altar for the great sacrament of French liberty. It was a work of love. The long twilight allowed them to labor until the clock struck nine. Then the groups separated. Each individual repaired to the station of his section, and marched in procession, accompanied by triumphal music and with the illumination of torches, to hishome. Even the Marquis of Ferrières, inveterate Royalist as he was, can not withhold his tribute of admiration in view of this astonishing drama. "The mind felt sinking," says he, "under the weight of a delicious intoxication at the sight of a whole people who had descended again to the sweet sentiments of a primitive fraternity."

PREPARATION FOR THE FESTIVAL ON THE FIELD OF MARS.

The field was thus prepared, and the long-expected day arrived. Numerous delegates from all the eighty-three departments of France had come up to Paris to share in the celebration of the nation's enfranchisement. The morning of the 14th dawned dark and stormy. Heavy clouds curtained the sky and the rain fell in torrents. Regardless of the unpropitious weather, at an early hour four hundred thousand spectators had taken their seats in the vast amphitheatre three miles in circuit.

The delegates, twenty thousand in number, ranged beneath eighty-three banners, emblematic of the departments of France, formed in line on the site of the demolished Bastille, and, with a very magnificent array of troops of the line, sailors of the royal navy, and the National Guard, marched through the thronged and garlanded streets of St. Martin, St. Denis, and St. Honoré, and by theCours la Reineto a bridge of boats constructed across the river. All the way they were greeted with acclamations, and the ladies regaled them sumptuously by letting down in baskets from the windows wine, ham, and fruits. The country members shouted "Long live our Parisian brothers!" and the Parisians responded with accordant greetings and with exuberant hospitality and loving-kindness.

To the patriot La Fayette this was an hour of inexpressible triumph. As he rode along the lines on a noble charger he was every where greeted with shouts of heartfelt affection. A man whom nobody knew pressed through the crowd, and, approaching the general, with a bottle in one hand and a glass in the other, said,

"General, you are hot. Take a glass."

Raising the bottle he filled the tumbler and presented it to La Fayette. The marquis took the glass, fixed his eye for a moment upon the stranger, and drank the wine at a draught. This confidence of La Fayette in the multitude gave rise to a burst of applause.[255]

Just as the procession had entered the field, and the shouts of the congregated thousands were ringing through the air, the rain ceased to fall, the clouds broke, and the sun came out in glorious brilliance. The spectacle now assumed an aspect of unparalleled sublimity. Near the centre of the field there was constructed an immense altar of imposing and antique architecture, upon whose spacious platform, twenty-five feet high, three hundred priests were assembled, in white surplices and broad tricolored sashes. Near this altar a majestic throne was reared, where the king sat, the acknowledged sovereign of France, attended by the queen, the court, and all the deputies of that Constituent Assembly which had conferred the inestimable boon of a free constitution upon France.

An awning, decorated with goldenfleurs de lis, embellished and protected the throne. Fifty thousand of the National Guard, in new and brilliant uniform, with waving banners, martial bands, glittering arms, and richly-caparisoned horses, filled the spaces around the altar and the throne. Then four hundred thousand spectators crowded the ascending seats which, in thirty concentric rows, encircled this vast inclosure. Every house-top and steeple in the vicinity swarmed with the rejoicing multitude; and even the distant heights of Montmartre, St. Cloud, Meudon, and Sevres, seemed alive with the masses assembled to witness the magnificent spectacle. Tear-drops from the passing storm, pendent from the leaves, and trembling on every blade of grass, glittered in the sun, as if betokening that the day of darkness and sorrow had passed, and that light had dawned, in which tears were to be dried from every eye.

All hearts thrilled with emotion. Mass was performed, and the oriflamme, the national banner of France, and the banners of the eighty-three departments, were blessed by Talleyrand, Bishop of Autun. Gratitude to God was then expressed in the majesticTe Deum, chanted by twelve hundred musicians. A peal of thunder from the assembled cannon uttered the national Amen to these solemn services.

La Fayette, as the representative of the military forces of the kingdom, both by land and sea, now ascended the altar, and, in the presence of more than half a million of spectators, in behalf of the army and of the navy, took the oath of allegiance. Breathless silence pervaded the assembly, and every eye was riveted upon this patriot of two continents, while he uttered the solemn words,

"We swear eternal fidelity to the nation, the law, and the king; to maintain, to the utmost of our power, the Constitution decreed by the National Assembly and accepted by the king, and to remain united with every Frenchman by the indissoluble ties of fraternity."

When he closed, every banner waved, every sabre gleamed, and sixty thousand voices shouted, as with thunder peal, "We swear it!"

The president of the National Assembly then repeated the oath, and all the deputies and the four hundred thousand spectators responded, "We swear it."

The king then rose in front of his throne. In a loud, distinct voice, which seemed to vibrate through the still air to the remotest part of the vast and thronged amphitheatre, he repeated the solemn oath,

"I, King of the French, swear to the nation to employ all the powers delegated to me by the constitutional law of the state in maintaining the Constitution decreed by the National Assembly and accepted by me."

GRAND CELEBRATION ON THE FIELD OF MARS.

A more sublime moment never occurred in a nation's history. Everyheart throbbed, and thousands of eyes were dimmed with tears. Even the queen was roused by the enthusiasm of the scene. Inspired by the impulse which glowed in every bosom, she rose, stepped forward into the presence of the people, and, raising her beautiful boy, the little dauphin, in her arms, said, in a loud voice,

"See my son! he joins, as well as myself, in the same oath."

Every eye beheld the act, and the words she uttered were repeated with electric speed along the lines. Enthusiasm burst all bounds. The spectators rose from their seats, and the air was filled with the roar of five hundred thousand voices, as every man, woman, and child shouted, "Vive le Roi! Vive la Reine! Vive le Dauphin!" The crowds on Montmartre, St. Cloud, Sevres, and Meudon caught the shout, and re-echoed it in tumultuous reverberations. And then came another peal still louder, as battery after battery of artillery, on the field, on the bridges, in the streets, and on the heights, simultaneously mingled their majestic voices with the clash of martial bands and the acclaim of regenerated France.

God seemed to smile upon this jubilee of his enfranchised children. The clouds had all disappeared. The sun shone brilliantly, and the Majesty of heaven apparently condescended to take a prominent part in the ceremonies of the eventful day. In conclusion, theTe Deumwas again chanted by the vast choir, and the deep-voiced cannon proclaimed "Peace to the nation and praise to the Lord."

At the same hour all France, assembled in the eighty-three departments, took the same oath of fidelity to the nation, the law, and the king. Discord seemed to have passed away. No murmurs were heard. No man raised a voice of opposition. The general tide of rejoicing swept resistlessly over the land. From mountain to mountain the roar of cannon transmitted the tidings, from valley to valley chimes from the church bells caught and re-echoed the joyful sound, and from central Paris to the ocean, to the Rhine, to the Alps, and to the Pyrenees, twenty-four millions of people in one hour raised the shout of emancipation. Such a shout never before or since has ascended from earth to the ear of God.

For a week these rejoicings were continued in Paris. The Field of Mars was converted into an immense ball-room, where thousands listened to enchanting music, and with the overflowings of fraternal love engaged in feasting, dancing, and all manner of games. At night the city blazed with illuminations, and the flame of fireworks turned darkness into day. The trees of the Elysian Fields were festooned with brilliant lamps, shedding a mild light upon the most attractive of scenes. There was no intoxication, no tumult, no confusion. All classes intermingled, with kind words on every lip and kind looks beaming from every face. No carriages were permitted to enter these avenues, that the rich and the poor might share the festivities alike. Pyramids of fire were placed at intervals in the midst of the mass of foliage. The white dresses of the ladies who were sauntering through those umbrageous alleys, the music, the dances, the games, the shouts of laughter, led almost every one to the delusive hope that the old world of care and sorrow had vanished to give place to a new era of universal love and joy.[256]

The site of the Bastille was converted into an open square, and at the entrance of the inclosure was an inscription "Ici l'on danse" (Dancing here). For centuries the groans of the captive had resounded through the vaults of that odious prison. The groans had now ceased, and happy hearts throbbed with the excitement of the song and the dance.

La Fayette gave a splendid review of the National Guard. The king, the queen, and the dauphin attended the review, and were warmly greeted by the people. The queen assumed the attitude of reconciliation, and graciously presented her hand to the delegates to kiss.

The delegates from the departments, before they left Paris, went in a body to present their homage to the king. With one voice they expressed to him their respect, gratitude, and affection. The chief of the Bretons dropped on his knee and presented to the monarch his sword.

"Sire," said he, "I deliver to you, pure and sacred, the sword of the faithful Bretons. It shall never be stained but with the blood of your enemies."

LOUIS XVI. AND THE DEPUTATION OF THE BRETONS.

The heart of the kind-hearted king was touched. He returned the sword, and, throwing his arms around the neck of the chief of the Bretons, said, in tones broken with emotion,

"That sword can not be in better hands than those of my dear Bretons.I have never doubted their fidelity and affection. Assure them that I am the father, the brother, the friend of all the French."

For a moment there was silence, and all alike were moved by the affecting scene. The chief of the Bretons then rejoined,

"Sire, all the French, if I may judge from our hearts, love and will love you because you are a citizen-king."

Many of the most influential men in England contemplated with admiration this immense reform, in which, to use the language of Professor William Smyth, one of the most candid of English writers, "the Constituent Assembly was supposed to have freed the country from temporal and spiritual thraldom; the government had been rested on free principles; the Bastille had been destroyed,lettres de cachetabolished, feudal impediments and oppressions of every kind removed, religious liberty established, the system of law made uniform, the criminal jurisprudence reformed, monasteries abolished; and by making the military force consist of the citizens of the country, freedom, and all those new and weighty advantages, seemed to be forever secured from the machinations of arbitrary power."

Thearistocracy, however, of England and Europe were struck with alarm. The emancipation of thepeoplein France threatened their emancipation throughout the civilized world. Edmund Burke espoused the cause of the aristocracy. With eloquence quite unparalleled he roused England and Europe to war. In view of his fierce invectives Michelet exclaims, in language which will yet be pronounced by the world as not too severe,

"Mr. Pitt, feeling sure of the European alliance, did not hesitate to say in open parliament that he approved of every word of Burke's diatribe against the Revolution and against France—an infamous book, full of calumny, scurrilous abuse, and insulting buffoonery; in which the author compares the French to galley-slaves breaking their chains, treads under foot the declaration of the rights of man, tears it in pieces and spits upon it. Oh! what a cruel, painful discovery. Those whom we thought our friends are our most bitter enemies."[257]

Thirty thousand copies of Burke's memorable "Reflections" were sold almost in a day. The sovereigns of Europe were so highly elated that they transmitted to him their thanks. The nobles and the higher clergy of France wrote to him letters of acknowledgment, and the nobility of England lavished upon him their applause. These "Reflections" combined aristocratic Europe against popular rights, and the people had no resource left them but to defend their liberties with the sword.

FOOTNOTES:[251]For the speech in full, see Thiers, vol. i., p. 126.[252]M. Fromont, in his memoirs entitled "Recueil de divers Ecrits relatifs à la Revolution," very frankly writes, "I repaired secretly to Turin (January, 1790), to the French princes, to solicit their approbation and their support. In a council which was held on my arrival, I demonstrated to them that, if they would arm the partisans of the altar and of the throne, and make the interests of religion go hand in hand with those of royalty, it would save both. The real argument of the revolutionists being force, I felt that the real answer was force. Then, as at present, I was convinced of this great truth—thatreligious zeal alone can stifle the Republican mania."In consequence of this dread (of the new order of things), they secretly set at work the most efficacious means for ruining the internal resources and for thwarting the proposed plans, several of which were calculated to effect the re-establishment of order, if they had been wisely directed and supported."[253]"There is no country in the world," says Voltaire, "where there are so many contradictions as in France. The king gives the actors wages, and the curé excommunicates them."[254]"The whole of Europe—on the one hand Austria and Russia, on the other England and Prussia—were gradually gravitating toward the selfsame thought, the hatred of the Revolution. However, there was this difference, that liberal England and philosophical Prussia needed a little time in order to pass from one pole to the other—to prevail upon themselves to give themselves the lie, to abjure and disown their principles, and avow that they were the enemies of liberty."—Michelet, p. 327.[255]Memoirs of the Marquis of Ferrières.[256]No one familiar with the writings of that day will affirm that this description is too highly drawn. Upon this point Patriots and Royalists agree. See Ferrières, t. ii., p. 89, on the part of the Royalists, and Alphonse Esquiros, p. 38, on the part of the Revolutionists.[257]Michelet's French Revolution, p. 415.

FOOTNOTES:

[251]For the speech in full, see Thiers, vol. i., p. 126.

[252]M. Fromont, in his memoirs entitled "Recueil de divers Ecrits relatifs à la Revolution," very frankly writes, "I repaired secretly to Turin (January, 1790), to the French princes, to solicit their approbation and their support. In a council which was held on my arrival, I demonstrated to them that, if they would arm the partisans of the altar and of the throne, and make the interests of religion go hand in hand with those of royalty, it would save both. The real argument of the revolutionists being force, I felt that the real answer was force. Then, as at present, I was convinced of this great truth—thatreligious zeal alone can stifle the Republican mania."In consequence of this dread (of the new order of things), they secretly set at work the most efficacious means for ruining the internal resources and for thwarting the proposed plans, several of which were calculated to effect the re-establishment of order, if they had been wisely directed and supported."

"In consequence of this dread (of the new order of things), they secretly set at work the most efficacious means for ruining the internal resources and for thwarting the proposed plans, several of which were calculated to effect the re-establishment of order, if they had been wisely directed and supported."

[253]"There is no country in the world," says Voltaire, "where there are so many contradictions as in France. The king gives the actors wages, and the curé excommunicates them."

[254]"The whole of Europe—on the one hand Austria and Russia, on the other England and Prussia—were gradually gravitating toward the selfsame thought, the hatred of the Revolution. However, there was this difference, that liberal England and philosophical Prussia needed a little time in order to pass from one pole to the other—to prevail upon themselves to give themselves the lie, to abjure and disown their principles, and avow that they were the enemies of liberty."—Michelet, p. 327.

[255]Memoirs of the Marquis of Ferrières.

[256]No one familiar with the writings of that day will affirm that this description is too highly drawn. Upon this point Patriots and Royalists agree. See Ferrières, t. ii., p. 89, on the part of the Royalists, and Alphonse Esquiros, p. 38, on the part of the Revolutionists.

[257]Michelet's French Revolution, p. 415.

CHAPTER XX.

FLIGHT OF THE KING.

Riot at Nancy.—Prosecution of Mirabeau.—Issue of Assignats.—Mirabeau's Interview with the Queen.—Four political Parties.—Bishops refuse to take the Oath to the Constitution.—Character of the Emigrants.—The King's Aunts attempt to leave France.—Debates upon Emigration.—Embarrassment of the Assembly.—Death of Mirabeau.—His Funeral.—The King prevented from visiting St. Cloud.—Duplicity of the King.—Conference of the Allies.—Their Plan of Invasion.—Measures for the Escape of the King.—The Flight.

Thegrand gala days, in the Field of Mars, celebrating the formation of the Constitution, soon passed. The twenty thousand delegates, having been fêted even to satiety, returned to their homes; the Constituent Assembly resumed its labors.[258]The cares and toils of life again pressed heavily upon the tax-exhausted and impoverished millions of France.

The Belgians, in imitation of France, had commenced a struggle for freedom. The King of France permitted Austria to send her troops across the French territory into Belgium to crush the patriots. Many of the most influential of the opponents of the Revolution were still leaving France and uniting with the armed emigrants on the frontiers. England, Austria, Sardinia, and Prussia were manifestly forming an alliance to punish the French patriots, and to restore the tyranny of the execrable old régime. The court, emboldened by these proceedings, were boasting of the swift destruction which was to overwhelm the advocates of reform, and commenced a prosecution of Mirabeau, the Duke of Orleans, and others of the popular party, for instigating the movement of the 5th and 6th of October, when the royal family were taken from Versailles to Paris. These movements created much alarm, and even the royal troops at Metz and Nancy, who were mostly composed of Swiss and Germans, fraternized with the populace.

A new issue of eight hundred millions of bonds orassignatswas decreed, which quite abundantly replenished the treasury. There was never a paper currency created upon so valuable a pledge, or sustained by security more ample and undoubted. The assignats represented the whole public domain, and could at any time be exchanged for the most valuable landed property. Still, Talleyrand with singular precision predicted the confusion which eventually resulted from these issues.

In the majestic march of events, Necker had for some time been passing into oblivion. The king had been forced to recall him. Hated by the court, neglected by the Assembly, forgotten by the people, he soon found his situation insupportable, and, sending in his resignation, retired to Switzerland, from which safe retreat he watched the terrific gatherings of the revolutionary storm.

Civil war was sure to break out the moment the court could obtain possession of the person of the king. The pliant nature of the monarch would immediately yield to the influences which surrounded him, and the court, under such circumstances, could find no difficulty in inducing him to sanction any acts of violence to regain their power. But while the king was in Paris, in the hands of the Assembly, he would sanction the decrees of the Assembly, and thus the aristocrats could not wage war against the patriots without at the same time waging war against the king. Foreign monarchies could not be induced to take this step. Thus the retention of the king was peace; his escape, civil war. The court were plotting innumerable plans to effect his escape. La Fayette, at the head of the National Guard, was fully awake to the responsibility of guarding him with the utmost vigilance. The king was apparently left at perfect liberty, but he was continually watched. The queen was exceedingly anxious for flight. The king was ever vacillating, but generally, influenced by such advisers as Mirabeau and La Fayette, inclined to accept the Revolution. He was also haunted with the idea that his cousin, the Duke of Orleans, wished to frighten him into flight, that the Assembly might declare the throne vacant, and place the sceptre in the duke's hand as the sworn friend and supporter of the Revolution.

Mirabeau had commenced his career as one of the most ardent advocates of reform, but he now wished to arrest the progress of the revolutionary chariot, as he affirmed that it had passed beyond its proper goal. His course was attributed by some to bribery on the part of the court. His friends say that he was only influenced by his own patriotic intelligence. At St. Cloud there is a retired summer-house, embowered in foliage, at the summit of a hill which crowns the highest part of the park. The queen appointed an interview with Mirabeau at this secluded spot.

The statesman of gigantic genius, who seemed to hold in his hand the destinies of France, left Paris on horseback one evening, under pretense of visiting a friend. Avoiding observation, he turned aside into a by-path until he reached a back gate of the park. Here he was met in the dark by a nobleman, who conducted him to the retreat of the queen, who was waiting to receive him. His constitution was already undermined by dissipation and unintermitted labors. His cheeks were sunken, his eyes inflamed, his complexion sallow, and a flabby corpulency announced the ravages of disease; but, notwithstanding all these defects, his genial spirit and courtly bearing made him one of the most fascinating of men.[259]

The queen was then thirty-five years of age. Care and grief had sadly marred her marvelous beauty. Her proud spirit was chagrined in being compelled to look for support to one of the leaders of the people. But little is known respecting what passed at this private interview. At its close Mirabeau said to the queen,

"Madam, when your august mother admitted one of her subjects to the honor of her presence, she never dismissed him without allowing him to kiss her hand."

The queen, responding to the gallantry, graciously presented her hand. Mirabeau, bowing profoundly, kissed it, and then, raising his head, said proudly,

"Madam, the monarchy is saved."[260]

Suddenly Mirabeau became rich, set up a carriage, furnished his house sumptuously, and gave magnificent entertainments. He immediately commenced a course of cautious but vigorous measures to overthrow the Constitution and establish one less democratic, which should give more stability and efficiency to the royal power. He affirmed that this was essential to the peace and prosperity of France, and that, instead of being bought over by the court, he had bought the court over to his views.

"But suppose the court refuses," said one of his friends, "to adopt your plans?"

"They have promised me every thing," Mirabeau replied.

"But suppose they should not keep their word?" it was rejoined.

"Then," said Mirabeau, "I will overthrow the throne and establish a republic."

It can hardly be denied that the Constitution was too democratic for a monarchy and hardly democratic enough for a republic. In the natural course of events public opinion would sway either to strengthening the throne or to diminish still more its prerogatives. There were now four parties in France. The first consisted of the old aristocratic classes of the clergy and the nobles, now mostly emigrants, and busy in effecting a coalition of surrounding monarchies to quell the Revolution, and by fire and sword to reinstate the rejected despotism of the Bourbons.

The second class was composed of the king and Mirabeau, with the queen reluctantly assenting to its principles, and others of the nobles and priests who were disposed, some from choice and others from the consciousness of necessity, partially to accept the Revolution. They were willing to adopt a constitution which should seriously limit the old prerogatives of the crown. But they wished to repudiate the constitution now adopted, and to form one less democratic, which would still grant many prerogatives to the king.

The third party consisted of the great majority of the Assembly, headed by sincere and guileless patriots like La Fayette, and sustained probably by the great majority of the purest and best men in the kingdom, who were in favor of the constitution which the nation had accepted. While they did not regard it as perfect, they felt that it was a noble advance in the right direction, and that the salvation of the liberties of France now depended upon allegiance to this constitution.

There was a fourth class, restless, tumultuous, uninformed, composed of the lowest portion of the populace, who could ever be roused to phrensy by the cry of "Aristocracy," who were ripe for any deeds of violence, and who regarded that firmness of law which protected order, property, and life as tyranny. They occupied the lowest possible platform of democracy.

Such was the condition of France as the Constituent Assembly now endeavored to consolidate the new institutions and to bring harmony from the chaos into which the nation had been plunged. While in these circumstances of unparalleled peril, combined Europe was watching for an opportunity to pounce upon the distracted nation.

All public functionaries were required to take oath to the new constitution. The clergy, as bound by the laws of the Romish Church, appealed to the Pope for instructions. At the same time the opposing bishops and nobles wrote to the Pope urging him to withhold his assent.[261]The king had sanctioned the decrees. The Pope, under various pretexts, postponed an answer. Many of the bishops and curates consequently refused to take the oath. The Assembly was not disposed to wait for the decision of a foreign potentate, and, accepting those bishops and curates who took the oath, immediately nominated new bishops and curates to take the place of those who refused. Justly and frankly the Assembly declared that it wished to do no violence to conscience, but that it could not appoint as public functionaries those men who refused to take the oath of allegiance to the Constitution of the kingdom. This increased exasperation, and enabled many of the bishops to appeal to the fanatic populace to rise in defense of the endangered Church.

The emigrants now made a general rendezvous at Coblentz, in the territory of the Elector of Treves, and at other points of the frontier.[262]These men, composing what was called the court, consisted mainly of the higher nobles who had long been pampered with the favors of the monarchy, and who looked with contempt upon the nobles of the rural districts. Haughty, dissolute, and frivolous, they scorned any appeal to the popular arm, even to popular fanaticism for support. The only recourse to which they would condescend were the armies of England, Austria, and Prussia. The rural nobles, on the other hand, and the rural bishops, were secretly organizing their friends within the kingdom to fall fiercely in civil war upon the patriots so soon as the solid battalions of the allies should cross the frontiers.[263]

In this state of things the king's aunts decided to leave France. They had proceeded in their carriage on the way to Rome as far as Arnay-le-Duc, when they were arrested. The feverish state of the public mind led to suspicions that their emigration might accelerate impending perils. The Assembly took the matter into deliberation whether the ladies should be permitted to depart. The question was settled by a keen sally of Menou.

MOB OPPOSING THE FLIGHT OF THE KING'S AUNTS.

"All Europe," said he, "will be astonished to learn that a great Assembly has spent several days in deciding whether two old ladies shall hear mass at Paris or at Rome."

The worthy ladies continued the journey without interruption. The king's next elder brother, usually called Monsieur, subsequently Louis XVIII., remained with the king in Paris. The next brother, however, the Count d'Artois, subsequently Charles X., was actively participating with the emigrants at Coblentz. The very difficult question respecting emigration was now brought forward in the Assembly. It seemed to be a gross act of tyranny to prohibit French citizens from withdrawing from or entering France at their pleasure. On the other hand the enemies of regenerated France were daily leaving the kingdom with all the resources they could collect; and from the frontier, where they were plotting foreign and civil war, they were continually entering the kingdom to make preparations for the invasion.

Mirabeau, who was at this time conspiring for the escape of the king, with his accustomed vehemence and his overpowering audacity, opposed any law against emigration.[264]

"I admit," said he, "that a bad use is made of this liberty at the presentmoment. But that by no means authorizes this absurd tyranny. I beg you to remember that I have all my life combated against tyranny, and that I will combat it wherever I find it. That popularity to which I have aspired, and which I have enjoyed, is not a feeble reed. I will thrust it deep into the earth, and will make it shoot up in the soil of justice and of reason. And I now solemnly swear, if a law against emigration is voted, I swear to disobey you."[265]

The Assembly was truly in a dilemma. They could not prohibit emigration without grossly violating that declaration of rights which they had just adopted with solemnities which had arrested the attention of the world. They could not permit this flood of emigration without exposing France to ruin; for it was well known that the nobles, with all the wealth they could accumulate, were crossing the frontiers merely to organize themselves into armies for the invasion of France.

Mirabeau never displayed more power than on this occasion, in overawing and commanding the Assembly. He succeeded in arresting the measure. This, however, was his last triumph. Disease was making rapid ravages, his frame was exhausted, and death approached. A sudden attack of colic confined him to his chamber, and soon all hope of recovery was relinquished. He was still the idol of the people, and crowds, in breathless silence, thronged around his abode, anxious to receive bulletins of his health. The king and the people alike mourned, for both were leaning upon that vigorous arm.

He could not repress an expression of satisfaction in view of his labors and his accomplishments. To his servants he said, "Support this head, the greatest in France." "William Pitt," he remarked, "is the minister of preparations. He governs with threats. I would give him some trouble if I should live."[266]On the morning of his death he said to an attendant,

"Open the window. I shall die to-day. All that can now be done is to envelop one's self in perfumes, to crown one's self with flowers, to surround one's self with music, that one may sink quietly into everlasting sleep."

Soon, in a paroxysm of extreme agony, he called for opium, saying, "You promised to save me from needless suffering."

To quiet him a cup was presented, and he was deceived with the assurance that it contained the desired fatal opiate. He swallowed the draught, and in a moment expired, in the forty-second year of his age. It was the 2d of April, 1791. His death caused profound grief. All parties vied alike in conferring honor upon his remains. The nation went into mourning, a magnificent funeral was arranged, and the body was deposited in the tomb with pomp surpassing that which had accompanied the burial of the ancient kings of France. Suspicions are still cherished that Mirabeau died the victim of poison.[267]

The funeral of Mirabeau was the most imposing, popular, and extensive of any recorded in history, always excepting that unparalleled display of a nation's gratitude and grief which accompanied the transfer of the remains of Napoleon from St. Helena to the Invalides. It is estimated that four hundred thousand men took a part in the funeral pageant of Mirabeau. The streets were draped in mourning, and pavements, windows, balconies, and house-tops were thronged with sad and silent spectators.

La Fayette headed the immense procession, and was followed by the whole Constituent Assembly, and by the whole club of Jacobins, who, in a dense mass, assumed to be chief mourners on the occasion, though Mirabeau had for some time held himself aloof from their tumultuous meetings. It was eight o'clock in the evening before the procession arrived at the Church of Saint Eustache, where a funeral oration was pronounced by Cérutti. The arms of twenty thousand of the National Guard were then discharged at once. The crash caused the very walls of the church to rock, shivering to atoms every pane of glass.

It was now night, and, by the light of a hundred thousand torches, the procession resumed its course. New instruments of music had been invented, which were then heard for the first time—the trombone and the tamtam. As the vast procession traversed the streets through the gloomy shades of night, illumined by the glare of flickering torches, with the tolling of bells, blending, now with the wail of the chant and now with the pealing requiems of martial bands, all the elements of sublimity seemed combined to affect the heart and overawe the soul. It was near midnight when the sarcophagus was deposited in its tomb at the Church of Saint Geneviève, over whose portal was inscribed these words,

"AUX GRANDS HOMMES LA PATRIE RECONNAISSANTE."

Mirabeau was the master-spirit of the Revolution. After his death there were multitudes struggling for the leadership, with no man of sufficient prominence to attain and retain it. The funeral of Mirabeau was the funeral of emancipated France. From that hour the Revolution was on the rush to ruin.

"Time," writes Michelet, "which reveals every thing, has revealed nothing that really proves the reproach of treason to be well founded. Mirabeau's real transaction was an error, a serious, fatal error, but one that was then shared by all in different degrees. At that time all men, of every party, from Cazalès and Maury down to Robespierre, and even to Marat, believed France to entertain Royalist opinions. All men wanted a king. The number of Republicans was truly imperceptible. Mirabeau believed that it was necessary to have a king with power, or no king at all. It is true that Mirabeau appears to have received sums to defray the expense of his immense correspondence with the Departments—a sort of ministry that he was organizing at his own house. He makes use of this subtle expression—this excuse which does not excuse him—that he had not been bought;that he was paid, not sold."[268]

FUNERAL OF MIRABEAU.

The death of Mirabeau seemed to paralyze the hopes of the king, and he now resolved to spare no endeavors to secure his escape. On the 18th of April the king took his carriage at Versailles, intending to ride to St. Cloud. A rumor spread through the city that he was contemplating flight. The populace collected and stopped the horses. La Fayette immediately hastened to the spot with a company of the guards, dispersed the mob, who offered noother violence than to obstruct the departure of the king, and cleared a passage. The king, however, who now wished to have it appear that he was held a prisoner, as most certainly he virtually was, refused to go, and returned indignantly into the palace.

By the advice of his ministers he repaired to the Assembly, and complained warmly of the insult he had encountered. The king was received with the utmost kindness by the Assembly, cordially greeted, and was assured that every thing should be done to prevent the possible occurrence of another similar outrage.

To disarm suspicion and appease the public mind the king, on the 23d of April, sent a letter to the foreign embassadors declaring that he had no intention of leaving France, that he was resolved to be faithful to the oath which he had taken to the Constitution, and that all those who intimated any thing to the contrary were his enemies and the enemies of the country. He soon after, however, declared to an envoy sent to him from the Emperor Leopold, that this letter by no means contained his real sentiments, but that it was wrung from him by the peril of his situation.[269]

A conference of the foreign powers was held on the 20th of May, 1791, at Mantua, in Italy, where Leopold, Emperor of Austria, and brother of Marie Antoinette, then chanced to be. At this conference Count d'Artois appeared in behalf of the emigrants. Prussia was represented by Major Bischofverder, England by Lord Elgin, and Louis XVI. by the Count de Durfort. Several other of the kingdoms and principalities of Europe were represented on the occasion. The Count de Durfort returned from this conference to Louis XVI. in Paris, and brought him the following secret declaration in the name of the Emperor Leopold:[270]

Austria engaged to assemble thirty-five thousand men on the frontiers of Flanders. At the same time fifteen thousand men from the smaller German States would attack Alsace. Fifteen thousand Swiss troops were to be marched on Lyons, and the King of Sardinia, whose daughter the Count d'Artois had married, was to assail Dauphiné. The king of Spain, cousin of Louis XVI., was to gather twenty thousand troops upon the slopes of the Pyrenees, to fall like an avalanche down upon southern France. Prussia engaged to co-operate cordially. The King of England, notwithstanding the eloquence of Burke's pamphlet, could not yet venture to call upon the liberty-loving English to engage in this infamous crusade against the independence and the liberty of a sister kingdom. But the king, as Elector of Hanover, engaged to take an active part in the war. A protest against the Revolution was to be drawn up in the name of the whole house of Bourbon, whosedivine rightto despotism in France had been questioned by the French people, and this protest was to be signed by those branches of the Bourbons who were occupying the thrones of Spain, Naples, and Parma.[271]

Plans for the invasion having been thus arranged, Louis XVI. resolved immediately to effect his escape to the frontier. He could then place himself at the head of these foreign armies, and lash France into obedience, and consign those patriots who had been toiling for liberty to the dungeon and the scaffold.

Never was the condition of a nation more full of peril, or apparently more hopeless. This impending destruction was enough to drive any people into the madness of despair. It is hard to wear the fetters of bondage even when one has never known any thing better. But, after having once broken those chains and tasted the sweets of liberty, then to have the shackles riveted anew is what few human spirits can endure.

It was not the intention of the king immediately to leave France. He arranged to go to Montmedy, about two hundred miles from Paris, taking the very retired Chalons road through Clermont and Varennes. The Marquis of Bouillé, a general entirely devoted to the court party, formed a camp at Montmedy to receive the king, under the pretense of watching hostile movements on the frontiers. Small detachments of cavalry were also very quietly posted at different points on the road to aid in the flight. All the arrangements were made for starting on the 20th of June.[272]

The king, though on the whole a worthy man, and possessing some excellent traits of character, was in some points weak almost to imbecility. All the energy of the family was with the queen, and she, with the Marquis of Bouillé, planned the escape. They were often thwarted, however, in their wishes by the obstinacy of the king. La Fayette was entirely deceived, and but few even of the court were intrusted with the secret. Still, rumors of flight had been repeatedly circulated, and the people were in a state of constant anxiety lest the court should carry off the king. They hardly believed that the king himself wished to join the emigrants, and to urge war against the Constitution which he had sworn to accept.

The Swiss Guards still surrounded the Tuileries. They were stationed, however, only at the exterior posts. The interior of the palace, the staircases, and the communications between the rooms were occupied by the National Guard, in whom the nation could place more reliance. It was a long-established custom that troops should be thus stationed throughout the palace, that the royal family might be protected from impertinence or from any irruption of popular violence. Since the terrible scenes of the 5th and 6th of October it became more important than ever that a strong guard should encircle the royal family. But while the ostensible duty of this guard was only to protect the king from insult, it had also a secret mission to prevent the king's escape.

La Fayette, to whom the whole business was intrusted, oppressed with the responsibility of his office, was continually, by night and by day, visiting the posts. To the officers who had charge of the night-watch he had given secret orders that the king was not to be permitted to leave the palace after midnight. Thus the king was truly a prisoner, and he was fully conscious of it, though every possible effort was adopted to conceal from him the humiliating fact.

M. Bouillé and the queen were compelled to yield to the whims of the king, and to adopt measures which threatened to frustrate the plan. The king insisted upon having an immense carriage constructed which could take the whole party, though the unusual appearance of the carriage would instantly attract all eyes; he insisted upon traveling a very unfrequented route, which would excite the curiosity of every one who should see the carriage pass; he insisted upon stationing military detachments along the route, though Bouillé urged that such detachments if small could render no service, and if large would excite suspicion; he insisted upon taking the governess of the children, because the governess said that she loved the children too much to be separated from them, though Bouillé urged that instead of the incumbrance of a governess they should take in the carriage an officer accustomed to traveling, and who could aid in any unexpected emergency. The king, though fickle as the wind upon questions of great moment, was, like all weak men, inflexible upon trifles.[273]

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