I underline the warrant given by the municipality for the arrest of the King, because I have never seen mention made of it by any historian, and because, having seen the warrant in M. Drouet’s hand, I can speak positively with regard to the existence of the paper.
I wish you to understand why I lay so much stress on the fact of the existence of a warrant. It is because M. Jean Baptiste Drouet, sent by the municipality of St. Menehould to arrest the King and the royal family, is not the isolated fanatic, obeying a regicidal impulse, as the Royalist journals and histories would have it, but a citizen of unblemished character, who fulfilled but his duty in obeying the commands of the magistrates of his country.
But to return to our tale.
The royal carriage started, and MM. Drouet and Guillaume in pursuit. M. Dandoins ordered his dragoons to mount, and follow.
But the order was more easily given than executed.
The pistol-shot fired by the sous-officer had found an echo in the hearts—or, rather, the imaginations of—of those who heard it. The National Guard armed themselves with their double-barrelled guns. A tumultuous and noisy mob gathered in front of the post-house—that is to say, on the very road that the dragoons would be obliged to follow, in order to come up with the royal carriages.
M. Dandoins was about to spring into his saddle, when the municipal council commanded him to surrender on the spot at the Hotel de Ville.
He did so, and was then ordered to give his name and to show his orders.
“I am named Dandoins,” replied he. “I am a Chevalier of St. Louis, a captain in the 1st Regiment of Dragoon Guards, and there are the orders which I have received.”
Suiting the action to the word, he placed on the table the following order:—