he mutineers six
months before. These protests, however, went unheeded, for the
Jacobins were now virtually masters of Paris. Not only did they
control the public galleries of the assembly but they had gained a
majority on the Commune and had secured for Manuel and Danton its legal
executive offices of _procureur_ and _substitut_.

In May difficulties arose between the King and his ministers, arising
partly from the exercise of the power of veto once more. On the 12th
of June the ministers were forced from office and were replaced by
moderates or Fayettists, Dumouriez going to the army to replace
Rochambeau. The Brissotin party, furious at this defeat, decided on a
monster {137} demonstration against the King for the 20th of June.

The 20th of June 1792 was one of the great days of the Revolution, but,
on the whole, less an insurrection than a demonstration. Out of the
two great faubourgs of the working classes, St. Antoine and St.
Marceaux, came processions of market porters, market women, coal
heavers, workmen, citizens, with detachments of national guards here
and there. Santerre, a popular brewer and national guard commander,
appeared the leader; but the procession showed little sign of having
recourse to violence. Bouquets were carried, and banners with various
inscriptions such as: "We want union!" "Liberty!" One of the most
extreme said: "Warning to Louis XVI: the people, weary of suffering,
demand liberty or death!"

Proceeding to the assembly a petition was tumultuously presented
wherein it was declared that the King must observe the law, and that if
he was responsible for the continued inactivity of the armies he must
go. The mob then flowed on to the palace, was brought up by some loyal
battalions of national guards; but presently forced one of the gates
and {138} irresistibly poured in. A disorderly scene followed.

The King maintained his coolness and dignity. For four long hours the
mob pushed through the palace, jostling, apostrophising, the King and
Queen. A few national guards, a few members of the assembly, attempted
to give Louis some sort of protection. But he was practically
surrounded and helpless. What saved him was his coolness, his good
sense, and the fact that there was no intent to do him bodily harm save
among some groups too unimportant to make themselves felt. To please
the men of the faubourgs Louis consented to place a red liberty cap on
his head, and to empty a bottle