Beacon Lights of History, Volume 09 | Page 7

tribune of the people,--the
aristocratic demagogue, who, in spite of his political rancor and
incendiary tracts, was the only great statesman of the day. He refused
the aid of the only man who could have staved off the violence of
factions, and brought reason and talent to the support of reform and
law.
At this period, after the triumph of the Third Estate,--now called the
National Assembly,--and the paralysis of the Court, perplexed and
uncertain whether or not to employ violence and disband the assembly
by royal decree, a great agitation began among the people, not merely
in Paris, but over the whole kingdom. There were meetings to promote
insurrection, paid declaimers of human rights, speeches without end in

the gardens of the Palais Royal, where Marat, Camille Desmoulins, and
other popular orators harangued the excited crowds. There were
insurrections at Versailles, which was filled with foreign soldiers. The
French guards fraternized with the people whom they were to subdue.
Necker in despair resigned, or was dismissed. None of the authorities
could command obedience. The people were starving, and the bakers'
shops were pillaged. The crowds broke open the prisons, and released
many who had been summarily confined. Troops were poured into
Paris, and the old Duke of Broglie, one of the heroes of the Seven
Years' War, now war-minister, sought to overawe the city. The
gun-shops were plundered, and the rabble armed themselves with
whatever weapons they could lay their hands upon. The National
Assembly decreed the formation of a national guard to quell
disturbances, and placed Lafayette at the head of it. Besenval, who
commanded the royal troops, was forced to withdraw from the capital.
The city was completely in the hands of the insurgents, who were
driven hither and thither by every passion which can sway the human
soul. Patriotic zeal blended with envy, hatred, malice, revenge, and
avarice. The mob at last attacked the Bastille, a formidable fortress
where state-prisoners were arbitrarily confined. In spite of moats and
walls and guns, this gloomy monument of royal tyranny was easily
taken, for it was manned by only about one hundred and forty men, and
had as provisions only two sacks of flour. No aid could possibly come
to the rescue. Resistance was impossible, in its unprepared state for
defence, although its guns, if properly manned, might have demolished
the whole Faubourg Saint-Antoine.
The news of the fall of this fortress came like a thunder-clap over
Europe. It announced the reign of anarchy in France, and the
helplessness of the King. On hearing of the fall of the Bastille, the King
is said to have exclaimed to his courtiers, "It is a revolt, then." "Nay,
sire," said the Duke of Liancourt, "it is a revolution." It was evident that
even then the King did not comprehend the situation. But how few
could comprehend it! Only one man saw the full tendency of things,
and shuddered at the consequences,--and this man was Mirabeau.
The King, at last aroused, appeared in person in the National Assembly,

and announced the withdrawal of the troops from Paris and the recall of
Necker. But general mistrust was alive in every bosom, and disorders
still continued to a frightful extent, even in the provinces. "In Brittany
the towns appointed new municipalities, and armed a civic guard from
the royal magazines. In Caen the people stormed the citadel and killed
the officers of the salt-tax. Nowhere were royal intendants seen. The
custom-houses, at the gates of the provincial cities, were demolished.
In Franche-Comté a noble castle was burned every day. All kinds of
property were exposed to the most shameful robbery."
Then took place the emigration of the nobles, among whom were
Condé, Polignac, Broglie, to organize resistance to the revolution
which had already conquered the King.
Meanwhile, the triumphant Assembly, largely recruited by the liberal
nobles and the clergy, continued its sessions, decreed its sittings
permanent and its members inviolable. The sittings were stormy; for
everybody made speeches, written or oral, yet few had any power of
debate. Even Mirabeau himself, before whom all succumbed, was
deficient in this talent. He could thunder; he could arouse or allay
passions; he seemed able to grasp every subject, for he used other
people's brains; he was an incarnation of eloquence,--but he could not
reply to opponents with much effect, like Pitt, Webster, and Gladstone.
He was still the leading man in the kingdom; all eyes were directed
towards him; and no one could compete with him, not even Sieyès. The
Assembly wasted days in foolish debates. It had begun its proceedings
with the famous declaration of the rights of man,--an abstract question,
first mooted by Rousseau, and re-echoed by Jefferson. Mirabeau was
appointed with a committee of five to draft the declaration,--in one
sense, a puerile fiction, since