They would not see in this
business anything save a prince of the Church and the Prince of Rohan,
whereas it is only the case of a man in want of money, and a mere trick
for raising cash, wherein the cardinal has been swindled in his turn.
Nothing is easier to understand, and it needs no Alexander to cut this
Gordian knot."

Cardinal Rohan was exiled to his abbey of Chaise-Dieu, guilty in the
king's opinion, a dupe in the judgment of history, evidently a credulous
profligate who had mistaken his vocation. The queen was the true victim
of the whole affair. It doubled the hostility of the people to her, and
had its share in that final sentence which brought her head to the
block.

_THE FALL OF THE BASTILLE._

"To the Bastille! to the Bastille!" was the cry. Paris surged with an
ungovernable mob. Month by month, week by week, day by day, since the
meeting of the States-General,--called into being chiefly to provide
money for the king and kept in being to provide government for the
people,--the revolutionary feeling had grown, alike among the delegates
and among the citizens. Now the population of Paris was aroused, the
unruly element of the city was in the streets, their wrath directed
against the prison-fortress, the bulwark of feudalism, the stronghold of
oppression, the infamous keeper of the dark secrets of the kings of
France. The people had always feared, always hated it, and now against
its sullen walls was directed the torrent of their wrath.

The surging throng besieged the Hotel de Ville, demanding arms. Gaining
no satisfaction there, they rushed to the Invalides, where they knew
that arms were stored. The governor wished to parley. "He asks for time
to make us lose ours!" cried a voice in the crowd. A rush was made, the
iron gates gave way, the cellar-doors were forced open, and in a short
time thirty thousand guns were distributed among the people.

Minute by minute the tumult increased. Messengers came with threatening
tidings. "The troops are marching to attack the Faubourgs; Paris is
about to be put to fire and sword; the cannon of the Bastille are about
to open fire upon us," were the startling cries. The people grew wild
with rage.

This scene was the first of those frightful outbreaks of mob violence
of which Paris was in the coming years to see so many. It was the 14th
of July, 1789. As yet no man dreamed of the horrors which the near
future was to bring forth. The Third Estate was at war