"The Duc de Liancourt passed in his carriage half an hour ago," said Mr. Morris, "on his way to Versailles to inform the King. Yesterday it was the fashion at Versailles not to believe that there were any disturbances at Paris. I presume that this day's transactions will induce a conviction that all is not perfectly quiet! But, even with this awful evidence, the King is capable of not being convinced, I venture to say." He was quite right in his surmise, and 'twas not until two o'clock in the morning that Monsieur de Liancourt was able to force his way into the King's bed-chamber and compel His Majesty to listen to a narrative of the awful events of the day in Paris.
In the meantime crowds of the greatest ladies and gentlemen flocked to the Place de la Bastille to witness the strange and horrid scenes there enacting, rubbing elbows with the armed and drunken scum of the city, and only retiring when night hid the sight of it all from them. It was amid a very carnival of mad liberty, of flaring lights and hideous noises, of fantastic and terrible figures thrusting their infuriated countenances in at the coach-windows, with a hundred orders to halt and to move on, a hundred demands to know if there were arms in the carriage, that Mr. Jefferson and Calvert finally regained the Champs Elysées and the American Legation. With the next day the foreign troops were dismissed by order of the frightened King, and Paris had an armed Milice Bourgeoise of forty thousand men, at the head of which, to Mr. Jefferson's satisfaction and Mr. Morris's dismay, Lafayette was placed as commander-in-chief. From the 16th to the 18th of that fatal July twenty noble cowards, among them Monsieur de Broglie, Monsieur de St. Aulaire, six princes of the blood royal, including the Comte d'Artois and the Princes of Condé and Conti, fled affrighted before the first gust of the storm gathering over France.
CHAPTER XIII
MONSIEUR DE LAFAYETTE BRINGS FRIENDS TO A DINNER AT THE LEGATION
It was in the midst of the alarms, the horror, and feverish agitation following hard upon the taking of the Bastille and the assassination and flight of so many important personages, that Mr. Jefferson, one evening, received from Monsieur de Lafayette a hurried note, requesting a dinner for himself and several friends. Mr. Morris and Calvert, who were dining with Mr. Jefferson, would have retired, that the company might be alone, but Monsieur de Lafayette, coming in almost instantly, urged upon the gentlemen to remain.
"Tis to be a political deliberation, at which we shall be most happy and grateful to have you assist," he said, graciously, for, though he disliked Mr. Morris, he appreciated his abilities, and as for Calvert, he both liked and admired the young man, having the greatest confidence in his good sense and keen judgment.
Mr. Jefferson, though deeply embarrassed by that thoughtlessness which made the American Legation the rendezvous for the leaders of opposing factions in French politics, made his unexpected guests as welcome as possible, but, though he was urged again and again to express himself by Lafayette and his friends—he had brought with him some of the most brilliant and most influential of the revolutionary leaders, d'Azay, Barnave, Lameth, Mounier, and Duport—he yet remained an almost silent spectator of the prolonged debate which took place when the cloth had been removed and wine placed on the table, according to the American custom. The discussion was opened by Lafayette, who submitted to the consideration of the assembled company his "Rights of Man," to which he was inordinately attached and which he designed as a prelude to the new constitution. With pride and emphasis he read aloud the most important of his dicta, and which, he owned with a profound bow to Mr. Jefferson, had been largely inspired by the great Declaration of Independence.
"The Rights of Man" were received with acclaim and approved almost without a dissenting voice, and then was introduced the main theme of the discussion—the new constitution projected by the Assembly. So incredibly frank were the deliberations that the three American gentlemen could not but marvel that they were allowed to be present. 'Twas a curious exhibition of weakness, thought Calvert, that they should be allowed, nay, urged, to participate in such a session. So intimate, indeed, were the details presented to the company by its different members, so momentous the questions raised and settled, that even Mr. Morris, usually so impetuous, hesitated to express an opinion. Only when it had been decided that the King should have a suspensive veto; that the Legislature should be composed of but one chamber, elected by the people; only when it was evident that the noblesse were to be rendered powerless and that Lafayette had abandoned his King, did Mr. Morris burst forth.
"This is madness, Marquis," he says, scarce able to contain himself. "Take from the King his power and this realm will fall into anarchy, a bloody disunion, the like of which the world has never seen! This country is used to being governed, it must continue to be governed. Strengthen the King's hands—for God's sake, do not weaken them! Attach yourself to the King's party—'tis this unhappy country's only hope of salvation. Range yourself on the side of His Majesty's authority, not on that of this insane, uncontrollable people. What have I seen to-day? As I walked under the arcade of the Palais Royal, what was the horrible, the incredibly horrible sight that met my eyes? The head of one of your chief men—of Foulon, Counsellor of State, borne aloft on a pike, the body dragged naked on the earth, as though 'twere some dishonored slave of Roman days. Gracious God! what a people! Have we gone backward centuries to pagan atrocities? And you talk of making this people the supreme authority in France! Your party is mad!"
"If 'tis madness," says Monsieur de Lafayette, coldly, "I am none the less determined to die with them."