"But it was in the evening (of July 14th) that the spectacle exhibited by the Assembly was truly sublime. I shall not attempt to describe the various emotions of joy, grief, and terror which at different moments agitated those who were merely spectators and strangers in the Assembly. But the expression is improper; we were none of us strangers. For myself, I felt as a Frenchman, because I felt as a man. Nothing could be more distracting than our uncertainty concerning the state of Paris, from whence no person was suffered to stir. The Viscount de Noailles[160] after repeated interruptions had contrived at last to get away; but the intelligence which he brought served only to quicken our impatience and increase our alarms.
"He knew that a multitude of people in search of arms had forced their way into the Hospital for Military Invalids; that the Bastille was besieged; that there had been already much bloodshed; that the troops encamped in the Field of Mars were expected every moment to march to the relief of that fortress, which could not be effected without deluging all Paris in blood.
"At this dreadful news the Assembly was penetrated with horror. A number of the members started from their seats by a kind of involuntary impulse, as if determined to hasten to the defense of their fellow-citizens. Others were for immediately bursting into the king's presence to remonstrate with him on what had happened; to say to him 'Behold the fruits of your counsels; hear the cries of your victims; see the destruction which is about to overwhelm your capital; say, are you the king or the murderer of your people?'
"But these tumultuous emotions gave place to the more temperate measure of sending a numerous deputation to the king, to represent to him the calamities which threatened Paris, and again to conjure him to remove the army. A long time elapsed, and the deputation did not return. No one could account for the delay. In the mean time there came a message that two deputies from the body of electors at Paris desired admittance. They were instantly ordered in. Not a breath was heard; every ear was attentive: every eye was strained; every mind was upon the rack. From some unaccountable mistake it was some time before they entered. Never was impatience wrought up to a higher pitch. At last they appeared at the bar."[161]
But let us leave the Assembly listening at midnight of the 14th to the narrative of the deputies from Paris, while we enter the city to witness the transactions there. At three o'clock Monday morning tumultuous masses of men were filling the streets. The barriers, at which a tax had been levied upon all articles of food and other merchandise which entered the city, had been seized, set on fire, and were now blazing. It was expected every moment that the troops would enter to sweep the streets with grapeshot; and from every steeple the tocsin was pealing, summoning the people to arms. Thousands of those who thronged the city, houseless wanderers, were haggard and wan with famine, and knew not where to get a mouthful of bread.
There was a rumor that in the convents of the Lazarites a vast amount of wheat was hoarded up. Resistless, like an inundation, the hungry multitude poured in at the doors and filled the convent from attic to cellar. They found vast quantities of wine in the vaults and more than fifty cart-loads of wheat. They drank the wine freely, fed themselves, and sent the wheat to the market to be distributed. But they would allow no stealing. One wretch who was detected as a thief was immediately hung by the populace![162]
They then ransacked the city in pursuit of arms. Every sword, musket, and pistol from private residences was brought forward. The shops of the gunsmiths furnished a small supply. The royal arsenal, containing mainly curiosities and suits of ancient armor, was ransacked, and, while all the costly objects of interest were left untouched, every available weapon was taken away. The prison of La Force was filled with debtors. The populace broke down the doors and liberated these unfortunate men, incarcerated for no crime. The prison of the Chatelet was filled with convicts. These felons, hearing of the tumult and of the release of the prisoners of La Force, rose upon their keepers and endeavored to batter down their doors. The same populace, called upon by the keepers of the Chatelet, entered the court-yard of the prison, and, with pike and bayonet, drove the convicts back again to their cells.
