As soon as M Mounier heard of these transactions, he hastened to the national assembly, and made a proposal, which was supported by other deputies, that the national assembly should be immediately transferred to the grand saloon of the palace, that they might at once assist his majesty with their advice, and contribute to his protection at such an alarming crisis. But Mirabeau exclaimed,- Je m'y oppose; il n'est pas de nôtre dignité, il n'est pas même sage, de déserter nôtre poste, au moment où des dangers imaginaires ou réels semblent menacer la chose publique.'*

At a time when all the assembly must have known that armed ruffians had assaulted the palace, murdered the guards, and forced their way into the royal apartments, to talk of dignity, and express doubts of the. reality of the king's danger, required all that unshaken effrontery which Mirabeau possessed. No part of his conduct exposes him to the suspicion of being connected in some degree with the insurrection, so much as this. The most dignified conduct the assembly could have followed would have been to have adopted the generous proposal of their president.

The king's mind was greatly affected with the death of the guards who had fallen in his defence; and, notwithstanding all the assurances of M. La Fayette, while he walked through his palace accompanied and protected by the general, he was making continual inquiries respecting the gardes-du-corps; and his anxiety carried him so far at last, that he appeared at the balcony, assuring the crowd below, that they had been unjustly accused, and even interceding in their favour.

Some of the populace calling out for the queen, she appeared at the balcony with the dauphin and the princess-royal at her side.

No tyrant, giddy with the plenitude of power, ever

⚫ It is unbecoming our dignity, it is even unwise, for us to desert our post at a moment when real or imaginary dangers seem to threaten the public.

pushed the wantonness of despotism to a more disgusting length than the wretches who filled the courts below. Instead of being moved at this mark of condescension, some of the barbarians called out, Point d'enfans! No construction could be put on such an exclamation, at such a moment, but that it was thought that the queen had brought the children as a protection to herself, and that the wretches intended to fire at her when they were removed. It was most natural for the queen herself to think so, because she had been frequently told that their curses and threats had been particularly directed against her.

Unmoved by this reflection, she made the children withdraw, and instantly turning to the multitude she stood alone, upright, and undaunted.

Struck with admiration of her majestic appearance and intrepid behaviour, the most barbarous for a moment forgot their rancour, and joined in the repeated shouts of applause that burst from all quarters, in the midst of which the queen retired.

Sometime after the queen had disappeared, those who directed the movements of the multitude resumed the great object of this expedition. Voices were heard exclaiming, Le Roi à Paris! The voices multiplied every moment; and at last the cries of A Paris! à Paris! were universal.

The king had no choice left. It would not have been in the power of M. La Fayette himself, perhaps, to have saved the lives of the royal family, had he refused. He declared his intention, therefore, of going that very day to Paris with his family; and his intentions being notified to the crowd, by notes and cards thrown from the windows of the palace, were received by the people with their usual noisy indications of joy.

As soon as it was announced in the national assembly, that the king was disposed to go to Paris, Mirabeau said,

Je pense que nous devons être rapprochés du monarque, pour l'accélération de nôtre ouvrage. Je demande

qu'il soit décreté, que le roi et l'assemblée nationale seront inséparables pendant la présente session.'*

This was unanimously agreed to; and it was decreed at the same time, that a deputation of one hundred members of the national assembly should accompany the king to the capital.

Of all the disagreeable circumstances which counterbalance the joys of sovereignty, and we are told there are a great many, none are more revolting to an ingenuous mind than the sacrifices which kings are thought to be under the necessity of making to policy and what are called reasons of state.

In the answer which the king made to the deputation sent to him with the above decree, are the following expressions. Je reçois avec une vive sensibilité les nouveaux témoignages de l'attachement de l'assemblée; le vœu de mon cœur est de ne jamais me séparer d'elle,' &c.+

After the fatigue and agonies of such a night, the royal family certainly were much in need of an interval of repose; but they were destined to undergo some very painful hours before they obtained it.

The multitude which surrounded the palace of Versailles began to manifest symptoms of ill-humour at the delay of the king's journey. Every consideration for the unfortunate family was sacrificed to the impatience of the poissardes and their savage paramours.

The royal family left Versailles a little after one o'clock, which was announced by a volley from the troops. The company of the hundred Swiss surrounded the king's coach; a troop of dragoons preceded, and another im

* I am of opinion that we ought to be always near the person of the monarch, for the acceleration of the public business. I propose that it be decreed, that the king and the national assembly shall be inseparable during the present session.

+ I have the most lively sense of this fresh testimony of the assembly's attachment ; the earnest wish of my heart is never to be separated from

it.

VOL. IV.

mediately followed it. The Parisian national guards had begun their march a short time before. Various bands of the poissardes were intermingled with all the different corps of this strange army-some seated in waggons, ornamented with green boughs, and white, red, and blue ribbons some astride upon the cannon-many on horseback; generally two on the same horse, with the hats of the gardes-du-corps on their heads, the belts across their shoulders, and armed with sabres-rending the air every instant with their savage shouts and the choruses of their vile songs. In the middle of one band of those sanguinary hags, two men carried long pikes, on the points of which were the heads of the murdered gardes-du-corps.

At certain distances the whole procession was made to halt, for the purpose of firing fresh volleys, and that the soldiers might be refreshed with wine and a little rest. On those occassions the poissardes on the carriages and on horseback descended and joined hands in horrid dances around the bloody heads that were fixed on the pikes. What rendered the scene completely shocking was the presence of the gardes-du-corps who had been saved by the grenadiers, and were now marched in triumph, disarmed, and in sight of the heads of their murdered companions. These scenes of savage mirth were repeated at intervals during the journey, which lasted from a little after one till seven in the evening, about which time the royal family arrived at Paris.

The town was illuminated. The king was received with shouts and other demonstrations of joy, which, he was told, proceeded entirely from the overflowing loyalty of the inhabitants. As the procession moved to the Hotel de Ville, the exclamations of Vive le Roi! resounded from all sides; but the unfortunate [monarch was sufficiently acquainted with the value of such exclamations. On entering the hall of the town-house, where a throne was prepared for his reception, a very dutiful speech was pronounced to him by one of the presidents of the common council. The king, no doubt, was also acquainted at this

time with the value of such dutiful speeches; and the reliance he put in the professions of loyalty which he heard was probably in exact proportion to the sincerity with which they were pronounced.

The queen was present at all this; and one remarkable proof of her presence of mind in the midst of scenes which might have disturbed even men of courage and firmness of character, was taken notice of, namely, that when the mayor was repeating to those around him what the king had said to him on his entering Paris, he happened to forget a sentence which the king had pronounced; the queen, overhearing this, instantly corrected him, and put him in mind of the omission.

CHAPTER XVI.

Reflections on French and British Loyalty-Anecdote regarding the Duke of Orleans-Reflections on his Character, and the part he took in the Revolution-On the Conduct and Views of Mirabeau-Expressions of four Persons in a Tavern at Seve -Dismal State of the Royal Family on their Arrival at the Tuilleries.

THE French have been thought to possess such an affectionate and respectful attachment to their monarchs, as rendered them by much the most loyal nation in Europe. No man was more of that opinion than the author of this narrative. The events of the present dreadful revolution afford cause of suspicion that this was at no time the case in reality so much as it was in appearance.

It will be still acknowledged, however, that no people ever displayed more attachment to the person, or more zeal for the glory, of their monarchs, whether they were of worthless characters, like Henry III, or of benevolent ones, like Lewis XVI, than the French have always done, as long as the monarch has had the address or good fortune to retain his power. While the power of the prince flourishes, the loyalty of the subject shines green as the