ssions to seize and bring to Paris
the arms deposited in strong places. From the beginning each assembly
sent to the Arsenal in its own name, and "obtained as many cartridges
and as much powder as it desired." Others claim the right of keeping a
watchful eye over the Hotel-de-Ville and of reprimanding the National
Assembly. The Oratoire decides that the representatives of the commune
shall be invited to deliberate in public. Saint-Nicholas des Champs
deliberates on the veto and begs the Assembly to suspend its vote.--It
is a strange spectacle, that of these various authorities each
contradicting and destroying the other. To-day the Hotel-de-Ville
appropriates five loads of cloth which have been dispatched by the
Government, and the district of Saint-Gervais opposes the decision of
the Hotel-de-Ville. To-morrow Versailles intercepts grain destined
for Paris, while Paris threatens, if it is not restored, to march on
Versailles. I omit the incidents that are ridiculous:[1405] anarchy
in its essence is both tragic and grotesque, and, in this universal
breaking up of things, the capital, like the kingdom, resembles a
bear-garden when it does not resemble a Babel.

But behind all these discordant authorities the real sovereign, who is
the mob, is very soon apparent.--On the 15th of July it undertakes the
demolition of the Bastille of its own accord, and this popular act is
sanctioned; for it is necessary that appearances should be kept up;
even to give orders after the blow is dealt, and to follow when it is
impossible to lead.[1406] A short time after this the collection of
the octroi at the barriers is ordered to be resumed; forty armed
individuals, however, present themselves in their district and say, that
if guards are placed at the octroi stations, "they will resist force
with force, and even make use of their cannon."--On the false rumor that
arms are concealed in the Abbey of Montmartre, the abbess, Madame de
Montmorency, is accused of treachery, and twenty thousand persons invade
the monastery.--The commander of the National Guard and the mayor are
constantly expecting a riot; they hardly dare absent themselves a day
to attend the King fete at Versailles. As soon as the multitude can
assemble in the streets, an explosion is imminent. "On rainy days," says
Bailly, "I was quite at my ease."--It is under this constant pressure
that the Government is carried on; and the elect of the people, the most
esteemed magistrates,