r people who were pitied for
having a king no longer and for knowing nothing but wretchedness. Such
marks of attachment consoled the virtuous Princess, and made her hope
against all hope. She wrote, August 8, to her friend Madame de
Raigecourt: "They say that the King is going to be turned out of here
somewhat forcibly, and made to lodge in the Hotel-de-Ville. They say
that there will be a very strong movement to that effect in Paris. Do
you believe it? For my part, I do not. I believe in rumors, but not
in their {266} resulting in anything. That is my profession of faith.
For the rest, everything is perfectly quiet to-day. Yesterday passed
in the same way, and I think this one will be like it." On August 9,
the eve of the fatal day, Madame Elisabeth again addressed a reassuring
letter to one of her friends, Madame de Bombelles. Curiously enough
she dated this letter August 10, no doubt by accident, and when Madame
de Bombelles received it, she read these lines, which seem like the
irony of fate: "This day of the 10th, which was to have been so
exciting, so terrible, is as calm as possible; the Assembly has decreed
neither deposition nor suspension."

{267}

XXVI.

THE PROLOGUE TO THE TENTH OF AUGUST.

The first rumblings of the storm began. People quarrelled and fought
in the Palais Royal, the cafes, and the theatres. Half of the National
Guard sided with the court, and the other half with the people. To
seditious speeches were added songs full of insults to the King and
Queen. These songs, sold on every corner, applauded in every tavern,
and repeated by the wives and children of the people, propagated
revolutionary fury. There was a constant succession of gatherings,
brawls, and riots. The Assembly had declared the country in danger.
Rumors of every sort excited popular imagination. It was said that
priests who refused the oath were in hiding at the Tuileries, which
was, moreover, full of arms and munitions. The Duke of Brunswick's
manifesto exasperated national sentiment. It was read aloud in every
street. The leaders neglected nothing likely to excite the populace,
and prepared their last attack on the throne, their afterpiece of June
20, with as much audacity as skill.

In order to subdue the court, it was necessary to destroy its only
remaining means of defence. To {268} leave plenty of elbow-room for
the riot, the Assembly, on July 15, ordered the troops of the line to
be sent so