Such was this famous banquet of the 1st of October, which the court was imprudent enough to repeat on the third. One cannot help lamenting its fatal want of foresight; it could neither submit to nor change its destiny. This assembling of the troops, so far from preventing aggression in Paris, provoked it; the banquet did not make the devotion of the soldiers any more sure, while it augmented the ill disposition of the people. To protect itself there was no necessity for so much ardour, nor for flight was there needful so much preparation; but the court never took the measure calculated to make its designs succeed, or else it only half took it, and, in order to decide, it always waited until there was no longer any time.
The news of this banquet, and the appearance of black cockades, produced the greatest sensation in Paris. From the 4th, suppressed rumours, counter-revolutionary provocations, the dread of conspiracies, indignation against the court, and increasing alarm at the dearth of provisions, all announced an insurrection; the multitude already looked towards Versailles. On the 5th, the insurrection broke out in a violent and invincible manner; the entire want of flour was the signal. A young girl, entering a guardhouse, seized a drum, and rushed through the streets beating it, and crying, "Bread! Bread!" She was soon surrounded by a crowd of women. This mob advanced towards the Hôtel de Ville, increasing as it went. It forced the guard that stood at the door, and penetrated into the interior, clamouring for bread and arms; it broke open doors, seized weapons, sounded the tocsin, and marched towards Versailles. The people soon rose en masse, uttering the same demand, till the cry, "To Versailles!" rose on every side. The women started first, headed by Maillard, one of the volunteers of the Bastille. The populace, the national guard, and the French guards requested to follow them. The commander, Lafayette, opposed their departure a long time, but in vain; neither his efforts nor his popularity could overcome the obstinacy of the people. For seven hours he harangued and retained them. At length, impatient at this delay, rejecting his advice, they prepared to set forward without him; when, feeling that it was now his duty to conduct as it had previously been to restrain them, he obtained his authorization from the corporation, and gave the word for departure about seven in the evening.
The excitement at Versailles was less impetuous, but quite as real; the national guard and the assembly were anxious and irritated. The double banquet of the household troops, the approbation the queen had expressed, J'ai été enchantée de la journée de Jeudi—the king's refusal to accept simply the Rights of Man, his concerted temporizings, and the want of provisions, excited the alarm of the representatives of the people and filled them with suspicion. Pétion, having denounced the banquets of the guards, was summoned by a royalist deputy to explain his denunciation, and make known the guilty parties. "Let it be expressly declared," exclaimed Mirabeau, "that whosoever is not king is a subject and responsible, and I will speedily furnish proofs." These words, which pointed to the queen, compelled the Right to be silent. This hostile discussion was preceded and succeeded by debates equally animated, concerning the refusal of the sanction, and the scarcity of provisions in Paris. At length, just as a deputation was despatched to the king, to require his pure and simple acceptance of the Rights of Man, and to adjure him to facilitate with all his power the supplying Paris with provisions, the arrival of the women, headed by Maillard, was announced.
Their unexpected appearance, for they had intercepted all the couriers who might have announced it, excited the terrors of the court. The troops of Versailles flew to arms and surrounded the château, but the intentions of the women were not hostile. Maillard, their leader, had recommended them to appear as suppliants, and in that attitude they presented their complaints successively to the assembly and to the king. Accordingly, the first hours of this turbulent evening were sufficiently calm. Yet it was impossible but that causes of hostility should arise between an excited mob and the household troops, the objects of so much irritation. The latter were stationed in the court of the château opposite the national guard and the Flanders regiment. The space between was filled by women and volunteers of the Bastille. In the midst of the confusion, necessarily arising from such a juxtaposition, a scuffle arose; this was the signal for disorder and conflict. An officer of the guards struck a Parisian soldier with his sabre, and was in turn shot in the arm. The national guards sided against the household troops; the conflict became warm, and would have been sanguinary, but for the darkness, the bad weather, and the orders given to the household troops first to cease firing and then to retire. But as these were accused of being the aggressors, the fury of the multitude continued for some time; their quarters were broken into, two of them were wounded, and another saved with difficulty.
During this tumult, the court was in consternation; the flight of the king was suggested, and carriages prepared; a picket of the national guard saw them at the gate of the Orangery, and, after closing the gate, compelled them to go back; moreover, the king, either ignorant of the designs of the court, or conceiving them impracticable, refused to escape. Fears were mingled with his pacific intentions, when he hesitated to repel the aggression or to take flight. Conquered, he apprehended the fate of Charles I. of England; absent, he feared that the duke of Orleans would obtain the lieutenancy of the kingdom. But, in the meantime, the rain, fatigue, and the inaction of the household troops, lessened the fury of the multitude, and Lafayette arrived at the head of the Parisian army.
His presence restored security to the court, and the replies of the king to the deputation from Paris, satisfied the multitude and the army. In a short time, Lafayette's activity, the good sense and discipline of the Parisian guard, restored order everywhere. Tranquillity returned. The crowd of women and volunteers, overcome by fatigue, gradually dispersed, and some of the national guard were entrusted with the defence of the château, while others were lodged with their companions in arms at Versailles. The royal family, reassured after the anxiety and fear of this painful night, retired to rest about two o'clock in the morning. Towards five, Lafayette, having visited the outposts which had been confided to his care, and finding the watch well kept, the town calm, and the crowds dispersed or sleeping, also took a few moments repose.
About six, however, some men of the lower class, more enthusiastic than the rest, and awake sooner than they, prowled round the château. Finding a gate open, they informed their companions, and entered. Unfortunately, the interior posts had been entrusted to the household guards, and refused to the Parisian army. This fatal refusal caused all the misfortunes of the night. The interior guard had not even been increased; the gates scarcely visited, and the watch kept as negligently as on ordinary occasions. These men, excited by all the passions that had brought them to Versailles, perceiving one of the household troops at a window, began to insult him. He fired, and wounded one of them. They then rushed on the household troops who defended the château breast to breast, and sacrificed themselves heroically. One of them had time to warn the queen, whom the assailants particularly threatened; and half dressed, she ran for refuge to the king. The tumult and danger were extreme in the château.
Lafayette, apprised of the invasion of the royal residence, mounted his horse, and rode hastily to the scene of danger. On the square he met some of the household troops surrounded by an infuriated mob, who were on the point of killing them. He threw himself among them, called some French guards who were near, and having rescued the household troops, and dispersed their assailants, he hurried to the château. He found it already secured by the grenadiers of the French guard, who, at the first noise of the tumult, had hastened and protected the household troops from the fury of the Parisians. But the scene was not over; the crowd assembled again in the marble court under the king's balcony, loudly called for him, and he appeared. They required his departure for Paris; he promised to repair thither with his family, and this promise was received with general applause. The queen was resolved to accompany him; but the prejudice against her was so strong that the journey was not without danger; it was necessary to reconcile her with the multitude. Lafayette proposed to her to accompany him to the balcony; after some hesitation, she consented. They appeared on it together, and to communicate by a sign with the tumultuous crowd, to conquer its animosity, and awaken its enthusiasm, Lafayette respectfully kissed the queen's hand; the crowd responded with acclamations. It now remained to make peace between them and the household troops. Lafayette advanced with one of these, placed his own tricoloured cockade on his hat, and embraced him before the people, who shouted "Vivent les gardes-du-corps!" Thus terminated this scene; the royal family set out for Paris, escorted by the army, and its guards mixed with it.
The insurrection of the 5th and 6th of October was an entirely popular movement. We must not try to explain it by secret motives, nor attribute it to concealed ambition; it was provoked by the imprudence of the court. The banquet of the household troops, the reports of flight, the dread of civil war, and the scarcity of provisions alone brought Paris upon Versailles. If special instigators, which the most careful inquiries have still left doubtful, contributed to produce this movement, they did not change either its direction or its object. The result of this event was the destruction of the ancient régime of the court; it deprived it of its guard, it removed it from the royal residence at Versailles to the capital of the revolution, and placed it under the surveillance of the people.