despatched a letter to the sovereign, by Thierry, his
valet-de-chambre, in which they said that, "attached to the interests
of the nation, they would never separate them from those of the King
except in so far as he separated them himself." As to Barbaroux, like
a true visionary, he dreamed of I know not what rose-water
insurrection. "They should not have entered the apartments of the
palace," he has said, "but merely blockaded them. Had this plan been
followed, the blood of Frenchmen and Swiss, ignorant victims of court
perfidy, would not have been shed on the 10th of August, the republic
would have been founded without convulsions or massacres, and we,
corroded by popular gangrene, should not have become the horror of all
nations." The demagogues were not at all certain of success.
Robespierre was to spend the 10th of August in the discreet darkness of
a cellar. Danton was prudently to await the end of the combat before
arming himself with a big sabre and marching at the head of the
Marseilles {272} battalion as the hero of the day. Barbaroux says in
his Memoirs that on the 1st, 3d, and 7th of August, Marat implored him
to take him to Marseilles, and that on the evening of the 9th he
renewed this prayer more urgently than ever, adding that he would
disguise himself as a jockey in order to get away.
In spite of their many weaknesses, the majority of the Assembly were
royalists and constitutionalists still. The proof is that on August 8,
in spite of the violent menaces of the galleries, they decided by 406
against 244 votes, that there was no occasion to impeach Lafayette, so
abhorred by the Jacobins. This vote excited the wrath of the
revolutionists to fury. The conservative deputies were insulted,
pursued, and struck. Several of them barely escaped assassination.
The sessions became stormier from day to day. Not only were the large
galleries of the Assembly overthronged by violent crowds, but the
courtyards, the approaches, and the corridors were obstructed. Many
sat or stood on the exterior entablatures of the high windows. The
upper part of the hall, where the Jacobins sat, received many
strangers, in spite of the often-reiterated opposition of the right.
Below this Mountain sat the members of the centre, the _Ventrus_.
There were not seats enough for them, and they were crowded up in a
ridiculous manner. At the bottom of the hall, almost entirely
deserted, were the forty-four members of the right.
|