by lamps hung in the trees, and by bonfires; and there, and thoughtless citizens! Are you ignorant of the fact that on the site of the Bastille, there was dancing. Carriages liberty is not made for a vain and frivolous nation, without were forbidden to drive about, that they might not interrupt morals, without character, without principles, changing the free enjoyment and circulation of the people by the noise with every wind and every new doctrine? Let not your of wheels, and clanking of horses' hoofs, and the continual enemies, however, count upon your momentary enthusiasm. cries of "Gare!"-" Take care!" The wealthy were Whatever may be the form of oath which your lips expected to make themselves part of the people, and to move have pronounced, your heart has only sworn to be true to about on foot as they did. So long as the federalists the country, and to liberty and equality. Any other remained in Paris, it was one continuous series of entertain-engagement into which you may have been surprised will ments, dances, and rejoicings. Besides the ball on the site vanish like a dream, and, at the first palpable treachery of of the terrible old Bastile, now converted into an open the court and aristocracy, your audacity will be the spark to square, there was a regatta, fireworks, a ball and refresh- kindle the fire that is to consume them all!" ments in the Halle au Blé. On Sunday, the 18th, La Fayette reviewed the federates in the Champ de Mars; on Monday, there was a large review, including, not only federalists, but troops of the line and marines, at which the king, the queen, and the dauphin, were present. The queen was particularly gracious, and gave her hand to be kissed by the federalists, and the kind words which she addressed to some of them, especially the young soldiers of Lorraine, deeply touched them, and awoke a spark of the ancient loyalty. Before the federalists quitted the capital, they went to pay their homage to the king. All of them testified the most profound respect, the warmest attachment. The chief of the Bretons dropped on his knees, and presented his sword to Louis, swearing that it should never be stained with any but the blood of his enemies. Louis restored him his sword, embraced him, and was deeply affected. "Sire," rejoined the Breton officer, "all the French, if I may judge from our hearts, love, and will love you, because you are a citizen king." Let us see. These were but the mere phosphorous gleams of that strange thing, French sentiment, or the honest expression of the more loyal and better-natured few. The republican orators and journalists had witnessed this fête with gall and detestation. Everything like affection for the monarchy or the monarch irritated them to madness. Men, with all the tiger and the demon in their nature, and destined to wade through torrents of blood, and to extinguish one another in it-Carra, Danton, Marat, Camille Desmoulins, and Robespierre. Carra denounced them as an "idolatrous people, who saw only the king and La Fayette, and not their own importance." He abused them as the most despicable of slaves, because they assembled under the windows of the Tuileries, and shouted, "Vive la Reine!" Why, he demanded, did they not cry, "Vivent les Polignacs!" the queen's great favourites. "Vive the Red-book of the Noblesse!" "Vive the Trianon!" the queen's palace. "Vive Lambesc!" "Vivent the protectors of the conspiracy against Paris!" "Vivent the iron railings of the Tuileries, with cannon-balls behind them!" "Vivent the authors of the project to carry the king to Metz!" "Vive the grant of twenty-five millions to the king!" &c. He denounced "the mayor Bailly, and all the rogues and swindlers that manage French affairs! How shameful that gaudy throne set apart for the king in the Champ de Mars, who is nothing but the first servant of the people!" And then he added an undoubted truth as it regarded the weathercock nature of Frenchmen, "Ah, These rampant republicans, bent on reducing everything to one level, spoke of the king simply as Louis Capet, and the queen as Louis Capet's wife, and the dauphin as the boy Capet, and we shall see that they succeeded, ere long, in bringing everything down to a literal equality, lopping off heads as wantonly as a lazy clown lops off the heads of thistles or wild flowers with a switch, and concluding by having their own heads rolled into the same bloody dust. Recriminations and heart-burnings sprang out of this festival betwixt the court and the people, instead of mutual confidence. The aristocracy saw in it only a new and general compact against monarchy and against their own order. The court were accused of having granted a passage for the Austrian troops into the country of Liege; and St. Priest was accused of having favoured the escape of persons charged with counter-revolutionary principles; and, in its anger, the court ordered the prosecution of the authors of the disturbances of the 5th and 6th of October, the march to Versailles, and the forcible conveyance of the king to Paris. The two persons chiefly named were Mirabeau and the duke of Orleans; but Mirabeau was only named as a cloak; the real aim was to drive away the duke of Orleans, who had returned from England, and was more popular than ever. But Mirabeau, though in the pay of the court, would not be silent, as was wished, for he deemed that the accusations really proceeded from the aristocracy, who hated him. He ascended the tribunal, and defended both himself and the duke, exclaiming, as he pointed to the right side of the assembly, where sate the aristocrats, that it was there whence the mischief came; that they were the authors of these proceedings, and that the country would prepare a most implacable vengeance for them. The speech was received with vehement acclamations, and the assembly resolved that there was no ground of accusation whatever against these distinguished individuals. But whilst the court was defeated in its attempt against the man whom they believed to have been at the bottom of the Versailles affair - namely, Orleans-the fête of the federation was scattering its fruits all over France. If the projectors of this fête-and La Fayette and the abbe Fauchet, who, in one of his sermons, told the people that it was the aristocracy who crucified the Son of God, both lay claim to the honour of suggesting it—if they had purposely sought by it to completely revolutionise the whole army, they could not have calculated better. Every regiment, not only of the provincial national guards, but of the troops of the line, and sailors from the chief ports, had sent their deputies to Paris to the fête. These were feasted, caressed, A.D. 1790.] MUTINY OF TROOPS AT NANCY. and flattered, and thoroughly indoctrinated with the most boiling spirit of the revolution. They returned to their different districts as the French soldiers had returned from America, carrying the doctrine of the most unlimited equality and independence with them. In quick time, they had demoralised the whole army. Bouillé, the cousin of La Fayette, had taken indefatigable pains to keep his soldiers free from the infection, and steady to their oaths and their standards. But now he had to write in his memoirs, "This confederation poisoned the minds of the troops. On their return from the capital, they brought with them the seeds of corruption. These they instilled into their comrades, and in a fortnight, or at most a month, the whole army was in a state of the most terrible insurrection." Bouillé, who hated La Fayette, though his relation, did not hesitate to attribute the scheme of the federation to him, as a means of regaining popularity, which, he asserted, he was fast losing; and that he was desirous of throwing the army into the hands of the people, and of alienating them from their officers, who were of the aristocratic class. He regarded the fête of the federation as having destroyed the last prop of the throne, and he became all the more anxious that the royal family should make their escape from France. The queen was most anxious for it too, and believed that by the aid of Bouillé it might be readily accomplished; but she never could move her timid and apathetic husband to the necessary determination. In the month of May, before the fête of the federation had removed their best chances with the army, the queen had contrived an admirable plan for the escape of the whole family to Bouillé, but the king's dull inertia prevented it. She was then strongly advised to escape herself; but, though she felt quite assured what would be her fate if she remained, nothing would induce her to leave her husband and child. Her person was not safe for a day. Her attendants—and especially madame Campan, and her physician, M. Vicq d'Azyr-were apprehensive that she would be poisoned; but she replied-"No; they will not employ a single grain of poison: the Brinvilliers are not of this age; they will kill me by calumny." Her attendants took all possible precautions for her safety; she herself took none. Yet people, both with good and evil intentions, frequently managed to approach when the national guards were lax in their duty. Soon after the federation, the court was allowed to go to St. Cloud for the summer months; and a fellow of the name of Rotondo made his way to the part of the gardens where the queen spent much time with her children almost every day, in the hope of assassinating her. Fortunately, the day proved rainy, and the queen was not there. On another occasion, as the queen was working at her embroidery-frame near a window, and madame Campan, according to her custom, was reading to her, they heard a number of persons talking in a low voice under the balcony. On madame Campan looking out, she saw a few priests and old knights of St. Louis, and some young knights of Malta, with a group of country people, altogether about fifty, who had taken advantage of the absence of the national guards to endeavour to approach and catch a glimpse of the queen. Marie Antoinette immediately went out upon the balcony to gratify them; and they said, in a whisper-"Madame, be of good courage; good French 495 people suffer for you; they pray for you, and Heaven will hear their prayers. We love you, we respect you; we revere our virtuous king!" The queen burst into tears; and the women said, "See, she weeps! Poor queen!" But madame Campan, terrified lest this should be observed by any of the national guards, led the queen in, raising her own eyes to heaven as she did so, to denote the cruel necessity of caution. The group under stood it, and said, "The lady is right. Adieu, madame!" and dispersed. It was during this sojourn at St. Cloud that the effects of insubordination, produced by the fête of federation amongst the troops, had come to a crisis. The troops at Nancy, consisting of four battalions of the king's regiment, two battalions of Swiss of the Château-Vieux regiment, with a regiment of cavalry, had mutinied, had imprisoned their officers, and sent a deputation to the assembly to justify themselves. These deputies were very insolent, and were especially supported by the jacobin club. La Fayette, however, arrested the deputies, and the assembly issued an order that the mutineers should return to their duty, and the inhabitants of Nancy to obedience to the law, on pain of being treated as rebels. General de Malseigne and a member of the assembly were dispatched to bring the soldiers to order; and Bouillé was commanded to render him all necessary assistance, and to employ force, if necessary. On reaching Bouille's head-quarters at Metz, Bouillé thought it best that Malseigne should go on to Nancy, and endeavour, in the first place, to bring the mutineers to reason by peaceable means. Malseigne proceeded boldly to Nancy, where he found that the troops had been joined by five or six thousand men of the neighbourhood, and deserters from other regiments. They had broken open the arsenal, and made themselves masters of five thousand muskets, with ammunition, and eighteen pieces of cannon, which they had loaded with grape-shot. They had exacted money from the authorities, burnt the decrees of the national assembly, and defied it in terms of contempt. They were intending to imprison the principal people of the town as they had done their own officers, and to ransack the city, and hang the chief men. Malseigne proclaimed the decree of the assembly, and harangued the mutinous troops; but he was glad to escape alive to Luneville, where there were eight squadrons of cavalry; but these cavalry, when the soldiers from Nancy marched against them, delivered up Malseigne to them, and fraternised with them. When Bouillé learned this news, he set out for Nancy with about three thousand foot, and one thousand four hundred horse, principally Swiss and Germans, all that he could trust, whilst, in Nancy, he calculated that the revolted troops amounted to ten thousand. On his way, he was met by three deputations, one after another, to whom Bouillé declared the conditions on which he would accept a surrender—viz. : that the three regiments at the head of the revolt should deliver up the ringleaders, and themselves quit the town; that they should liberate Malseigne, whom, fortunately, they had not hanged, and their own officers, and deliver up the cannon. These terms they treated with contempt. Bouillé sent forward a proclamation, containing the same conditions, and, on arriving at the gates of the town, it was announced to him that his terms should be agreed to. Malseigne and the captive officers of the regiments were sent to him, and he saw the regiments marching out at the opposite gate; but no sooner did he attempt to enter the city, than the cannon, charged to the muzzles with grape were fired on him; there was a murderous discharge of musketry from the windows of the houses, and the regiments turned back and joined in the battle. Bouillé was in a terrible dilemma; but he says he blindly committed himself to fortune for the result, and fought the insurgents with such fury, that they were compelled to give back. From half-past four till half-past seven o'clock Bouillé was cutting his way to the centre of the town. He had lost forty officers and four hundred men; but he had taken the cannon, and five hundred men prisoners, and was preparing to execute a more desperate vengeance, when the insurgents agreed to march quietly out of the place. He consented, on condition that they marched to different garrisons, which he named, at some distance from each other. Bouillé preserved the place from pillage; not a house was broken into, nor an inhabitant killed, except such as were met in arms. He liberated the five hundred prisoners who had fallen into his hands, two hundred of whom were soldiers, and three hundred inhabitants, and none of them were punished; but the Swiss, by the authority of the articles of war under which they served, tried their prisoners by court-martial, shot twenty soldiers, and condemned from fifty to sixty to the galleys, to which they were sent. This extraordinary transaction took place on the 31st of August, and on the 3rd of September the king wrote an autograph letter to Bouillé, thanking him for his gallant conduct, by which, he said, he had saved France. Hearing, too, that Bouillé had had a favourite horse shot under him, be sent him a fine one of his own, which he had ridden, begging him to accept it for his sake. But, on the other hand, the jacobins, both in their club and the assembly, raised the most terrible outcries at this suppression of the insurrection. They declared that it was a massacre of patriots by the royalists and aristocrats for defending the liberties of their country. They denounced Bouillé as a traitor. Robespierre demanded that a fresh deputation from Nancy should be heard at the bar of the assembly, and this deputation declared that the soldiers had only risen to defend themselves and the town against the plots of the aristocrats; that many of them had been dismissed only to replace them by unpatriotic soldiers, who were in the interest of the aristocrats, and that these aristocrats and unpatriotic soldiers had attacked the people of the town before the garrison mutinied. But the assembly firmly persisted in asserting that such insurrection could not be permitted, or it would undermine the conduct of the whole army, and even La Fayette, who, in the opening of the revolution, had declared insurrection to be the most sacred of duties, now moved and carried a vote of thanks to Bouillé. Robespierre opposed these measures vehemently, and menaced the assembly with the possibility of seeing all the patriotic soldiers ranged on one side, and all those who had sold themselves to despotism and aristocracy on the other, under Bouillé. In fact, he menaced them with civil war. But the thunder of Mirabeau silenced this arch jacobin, and not only were these measures passed, but a commission was sent to Nancy to try and punish the guilty, and to restore tranquillity. Bouillé received an extension of his command from the king. He now had military rule from the borders of Switzerland to the Sambré, comprehending the greatest part of the frontiers. As he had more reliance on the cavalry than he had on the infantry, he fixed his head-quarters on the banks of the Seille, which flows into the Moselle, because he had plains for the manoeuvring of his horse, and meadows for forage, and was defended in his rear by impassable marshes. He was resolved to take no step against the constitution; but he deemed it of vital importance that the king should escape, and he held himself in readiness to aid him in the attempt. Had Louis possessed the spirit of his queen and this devoted general, he would, long ago, have been beyond the reach of the insulting enemies called "his" people. Under the influence of La Fayette, Bailly, and the municipality, a day of mourning was resolved to be held in the Champ de Mars for the soldiers who had fallen in defence of the constitution. The galleries, the triumphal arch, and the altar of the nation, now converted into a tomb, emblazoned with inscriptions in gold letters and surmounted by cypresses, all these formerly festive objects were now covered with black cloth. The priests performed mass for the dead in albs and tricolor sashes. La Fayette, Bailly, and the authorities of the municipality were all there, and crowds of spectators, but the jacobins were absent, and their journals poured forth the fiercest diatribes against the city magistrates and all who were concerned in celebrating the obsequies of the heroes of order. Marat, who was becoming every day more truculent, declared that it would have been a great deal better if the money thus spent had been given to the poor. This modern Judas, who was so extremely sympathetic for the poor, when he had some particular scheme of vengeance in his head, assured the public that the soldiers who had been massacred at Nancy by Bouillé were the defenders of the poor. “The poor," he said, "are the only class that are patriots-the only ones who are honest. The canaille of the court say they are the refuse of mankind; but, in the eyes of the discerning and philosophical, they are the only sound portion of society. As for these new departmental governments and these municipalities patronised by the assembly, they are composed of nothing but the putrid remains of the old bodies, who are carrying infection into the reign of liberty, and keeping up an understanding with the government by tricks and signs, like cutpurses at a fair." And he then appealed to Divine Providence to take pity on his poor children, and to select his most exterminating curses for the race of municipal and aristocratical vermin, and to extirpate them. The reign of jacobinism was fast drawing on, when such wretches as Marat and Robespierre should wallow in blood. This Marat, one of those monsters that out-monster all fiction, however rabid, was a native of Baudry, in Switzerland. He had studied medicine and anatomy, and perhaps, in such pursuits, had acquired his burning thirst for human blood. He was a quack vendor of medicines in Paris when the revolution broke out. He was also the author of a work called "Man; or Principles and |