stantis tyranni
Mente quatit solida, neque Auster
Dux inquieti turbidus Hadriae,
Nec fulminantis magna manus Jovis:
Si fractus illabatur orbis,
Impavidum ferient ruinae.
--Hor., Lib. III. Carm. III.

The 10th of August, 1792, was one of the most memorable days of the
French Revolution. It was the day on which the French monarchy received
its death-blow, and was accompanied by fighting and bloodshed which
filled Paris with terror. In the morning before daybreak the tocsin had
sounded, and not long after the mob of Paris, headed by the Marseillais,
"Six hundred men not afraid to die," who had been summoned there by
Barbaroux, were marching upon the Tuileries. The king, or rather the
queen, had at last determined to make a stand and to defend the throne.
The Swiss Guards were there at the palace, well posted to protect the
inner court; and there, too, were the National Guards, who were expected
to uphold the government and guard the king. The tide of people poured
on through the streets, gathering strength as they went the Marseillais,
the armed bands, the Sections, and a vast floating mob. The crowd drew
nearer and nearer, but the squadrons of the National Guards, who were to
check the advance, did not stir. It is not apparent, indeed, that they
made any resistance, and the king and his family at eight o'clock lost
heart and deserted the Tuileries, to take refuge with the National
Convention. The multitude then passed into the court of the Carrousel,
unchecked by the National Guards, and were face to face with the Swiss.
Deserted by their king, the Swiss knew not how to act, but still stood
their ground. There was some parleying, and at last the Marseillais
fired a cannon. Then the Swiss fired. They were disciplined troops,
and their fire was effective. There was a heavy slaughter and the
mob recoiled, leaving their cannon, which the Swiss seized. The
Revolutionists, however, returned to the charge, and the fight raged on
both sides, the Swiss holding their ground firmly.

Suddenly, from the legislative hall, came an order from the king to
the Swiss to cease firing. It was their death warrant. Paralyzed by
the order, they knew not what to do. The mob poured in, and most of the
gallant Swiss were slaughtered where they stood. Others escaped from the
Tuileries only to meet their death in the street. The palace was sacked
and the raging mob was in possession of the city