To the first question, nearly seven hundred as against about a dozen, voted “Yes.”
On the second, two hundred and eighty voices voted for the appeal to the people; four hundred and twenty-three against it.
It was now (January 16) that Danton first betrayed his insatiable thirst for blood.
“I thought,” cried he, “we were assembled for other purposes than those of the drama.”
“’Tis a question of liberty!” cried several voices.
“Question of liberty?” cried Danton. “’Tis a question of a comedy—that taking off the head of a tyrant with the axe of a King! I demand that we do not separate before we have pronounced sentence upon Louis! His accomplices have fallen without delay, therefore let him fall at once!”
Everything declared in favor of Louis’s death by this same January 16. On this day itself, a poor fellow named Louvain, who had been one at the taking of the Bastille, venturing to say that the republic ought to be established without the death of Louis XVI, a friend and companion near him plunged his sword into his breast.
In the evening, a book-pedlar, suspected of royalism, leaving a public reading-room, was accused by the people of distributing pamphlets in favor of the King’s cause. He was assassinated with thirty dagger-thrusts.
Upon this day the soldiery swept over Paris, brandishing their swords, singing patriotic songs, and looking eagerly for the least signs of opponents.