198

THE BIRMINGHAM RIOTS.

[1791.

There was no zealot prosecuted of the many whose offences were undoubtedly as great as that of the madman, lord George Gordon, in 1780. There was in Birmingham a hateful spirit of slavishness and ferocity, in the guise of loyalty and religion, which unhappily, to some extent, pervaded the whole kingdom. The atrocities were almost justified from the pulpit as "a judgment." One of the most eloquent of Dissenters-one strongly opposed to Priestley's theological opinions-published in 1791 a tract, in which he says, that to the unenlightened eyes of posterity "it will appear a reproach, that in the eighteenth century-an age that boasts its science and improvement-the first philosopher in Europe, of a character unblemished, and of manners the most mild and gentle, should be torn from his family, and obliged to flee, an outcast and a fugitive, from the murderous hands of a frantic rabble; but when they learn that there were not wanting teachers of religion who secretly triumphed in these barbarities, they will pause for a moment, and imagine they are reading the history of Goths or of Vandals."*

*Robert Hall-"Christianity consistent with a love of freedom, being an answer to a Sermon by the Rev. John Clayton," 1791.

CHAPTER XI.

Flight from Paris of the king and his family-The National Assembly after the discovery of the flight-Hatred of Royalty-Thomas Paine-National, or Constituent, Assembly at an end -Meeting of the Legislative Assembly-The Declaration of Pilnitz-French princes and emigrants at Coblentz-Opening of Parliament-Pacific Speech--Pitt's display of British prosperity-The Slave Trade-Pitt's eloquence-The Libel Law-Attempts to form a Coalition-Proclamation against Seditions-Chauvelin and lord Grenville-Partition of

Poland.

WHILST from the night of the 14th July to the night of the 17th, the rabble of Birmingham were shouting "Church and King," and plundering and burning chapels and houses, the rabble of Paris, many thousands in number, were assembled on Sunday, the 17th, in the Champ de Mars, clamouring for the deposition of the king, and manifesting their patriotism by hanging two men denounced as spies. The magistrates of Birmingham looked smilingly on the loyal and orthodox havoc; but the authorities of Paris, with their mayor, Bailly, at their head, resolved to put down this mobdictation, and, hoisting the red flag of martial law, to disperse the multitudes with volleys of musketry. What has produced this demand for the deposition of the king? He has attempted to fly from his good people of Paris.

200

THE KING'S FLIGHT FROM PARIS, WITH HIS FAMILY.

[1791.

He broke out of his prison-house, and he has been brought back again. He
had been suspected of a plan to escape, when he desired to keep Easter at
St. Cloud; and a fierce mob, when he was seated with the queen in his
carriage, then prevented their departure from the Tuileries, although La
Fayette was desirous to make way for them by force. It was known that an
Austrian army was gathering on the frontiers; that the royal princes,
d'Artois and Condé, were surrounded by emigrants, ready to return in arms.
"Citizens," wrote Marat, the most influential of the journalists because the
most ferocious, "watch closely around the palace.
. . The genius of
Austria is there, hidden in committees over which Antoinette presides. They
correspond with foreigners, and furnish the armed tyrants who are assembling
on your frontier with gold and materials of war." The writings of Marat
echoed the denunciations of the Clubs. The National Assembly, and the
National Guard, were growing less and less popular with the anarchists.
"What is La Fayette doing?" asked Marat, "is he a dupe or an accom-
plice? Why does he leave the avenues of the palace free?" The suspicions
thus excited in the populace naturally produced a greater vigilance in La
Fayette. For some time the whole of the interior of the Tuileries was under
the watchfulness of the National Guard; and La Fayette and his officers were
constantly about the palace, often till a late hour. The royal family, too, were
surrounded by unfaithful menials. A waiting-woman had for several months
been watching the queen; had seen her jewel-boxes empty, and had conjec-
tured that the royal diamonds had left France. She reported her suspicions
to an aide-de-camp of La Fayette; and for several nights a stricter watch.
had been kept within and around the palace. A secret correspondence had
been maintained between the king and the marquis de Bouillé, the commander
of the royalist army in the frontier provinces of Champagne, Lorraine, and
Alsace; but the loyalty of a few regiments only could be relied upon. It
was arranged between Louis and his faithful general that the king should
leave Paris on the night of the 19th of June; and De Bouillé took his
measures of placing relays of horses on the road, and detachments to guard
the royal family at certain stations through which they were to pass on their
way to Montmédy, at which fortress the general had formed a camp where
the fugitives would be safe. The arrangements were disturbed by the delay
of one day in setting forth; and, as in many of the minor occurrences of
life, the misadventures of an hour or two were fatal to success. The count
de Fersen, a Swiss, was admitted into the confidence of the king; and he
accomplished the business of obtaining a passport for a Russian baroness,
travelling home, with a waiting-woman, a valet, and two children; and he
has had a new coach built; and has engaged horses. All at last is ready for
a start. The Russian baroness is Madame De Tourzel, the gouvernante of
the two royal children; her waiting-woman is the queen; the valet is the
king. The king's sister, Elizabeth, is of the party as travelling companion.
Three of the devoted soldiers of the king, who had belonged to the disbanded
body-guard, were admitted into the confidence of count Fersen, and it
was arranged that they were to mount behind the carriage, as some sort
of protection.

The king and queen received at their usual hour, on the evening of the 20th of June, those who were accustomed to wait on them before they

1791.]

THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY.

201

retired to rest. They dressed themselves in the clothes prepared for their disguise; and when a midnight stillness reigned around left the Tuileries, but not all at once. A lady in a hood had come out from a small door, leading two children—a visitor of some one of the household, no doubt. These pass into the open space before the Tuileries, called the Carrousel, and thence into a street where a glass-coach is waiting. Another lady comes out, also hooded, and enters the same coach. A stout man now reaches the capacious carriage. One of the party is still wanting-the waiting-maid. She, in a gipsy-hat, attended by a servant, is about to join them, when the carriage of La Fayette, with torch-bearers, appears. He has been hastily sent for, upon some report from his aide-de-camp. The waiting-maid stands. up under the arch, and sees the well-known face. She is herself unobserved; but is somewhat flurried. The fair one and her attendant take the wrong road, and cross the Pont Royal to the other side of the Seine. They wander about the long Rue du Bac in great perplexity, but at last make their way over the river again, and find the coach waiting upon the quai. Count Fersen is the royal hackney coachman. He drives furiously off, but they have to go to a distant part to find the travelling carriage. At last they have passed the dark and narrow streets of the city, have reached the Boulevard, and at the Porte St. Martin the travelling carriage is waiting. Fersen is again upon the box, with a German coachman, who will be trusty; and after some time he receives the grateful adieux of those for whom he has risked so much, and leaves them to make his own way to Brussels. Another carriage is at Bondy, with boxes and waiting-women. Through the summernight, the heavy coach, with six horses, is lumbering on towards Chalons, where it arrives, having found proper relays, about five in the afternoon of the 21st.

At six o'clock in the morning following that midnight when La Fayette has looked round the Tuileries, and can discover nothing wrong, he is roused with the news that the king and royal family are gone. Paris is alarmed, and is quickly in motion; but there is no riot or outrage. The Assembly meets, and declares its sitting permanent. A letter has been found addressed by the king. to the National Assembly, in which he goes through the chief events of the Revolution; describes the personal indignities he had undergone, and says that, finding it impossible for him to effect any good, or to prevent any evil, he has sought to recover his liberty, and to reach a place of safety for himself and his family. The Assembly confirmed an order which had been previously issued by La Fayette, which enjoined all functionaries to arrest the fugitives; and at once assumed the powers of an executive government. The news of the flight of the king reached London on the 25th, when George Rose thus wrote to Wilberforce :-" The National Assembly has acted in a collected manner, and with prudence in their situation. They have given assurances to the foreign ministers of firmness, continuance of friendship, &c., and have ordered the great seal (we shall be told like our phantom during the regency) to be put to all instruments which require the royal authority."*

The king's route may be easily traced. The heavy carriage, called a "Berline," is somewhat remarkable. Escorts of dragoons have been hanging

"Wilberforce Correspondence," vol. i. p. 80.

VOL. VII.

P

202

CAPTURE OF THE ROYAL FAMILY AT VARENNES.

[1791.

about on the road from early morning; and no one knows what they are waiting for. Suspicion is roused. As the evening draws on, a courier rides through the village of Sainte-Ménehould; and then the lumbering vehicle with its six post-horses rolls in, and stops at the post-house. The master of the post has been to Paris. He looks hard into the carriage. He fancies he has seen the lady in the gipsy-hat in some public place. Another face is familiar to him, from the engraved head on the new assignat. He is sure the stout man is the king. The carriage moves on; and this vigilant postinaster, by name Drouet, and a trusty companion, hurry after it upon fleet hackneys. The escort that followed the royal fugitives from Sainte-Ménehould is impeded by the people at Clermont, who have been roused by Drouet. But the village of Varennes is reached by Louis and his family, about fourand-twenty hours after they had been wandering out of the Tuileries through dark ways into a dark future. The small town of Varennes is divided by the river Aire. Relays of horses prepared for the travellers are in the upper town. The couriers can find no horses in the lower town, where the carriage is waiting. For half-an-hour the wearied and anxious sitters in the "Berline" listen with impatience for the sound of horses' feet. Two horsemen have dashed past them over the bridge. Drouet is an old dragoon, and knows something of barricades. He rides into the town, obtains help, and the bridge over the Aire is soon rendered impassable by an overturned cart. At length the carriage drives up, the post-boys having been induced to proceed with their jaded hacks. Passports are demanded by half-a-dozen National Guards, led by the inexorable Drouet. Resistance is vain; and Louis, his queen, his sister, his children, and the gouvernante are handed into the house of the Procureur of the town, named Sausse, a grocer. Refreshments are asked for by the king; and he relishes bread and cheese, and a bottle of Burgundy. The alarm-bell is rung; the people hurry out of their beds; the house is surrounded. Louis feels confident that a large force will arrive from M. de Bouillé for his deliverance. A squadron of hussars is at hand; but they have received no orders. The night is passed in terrible uncertainty. In the morning, National Guards are assembled in great numbers; and La Fayette's aide-de-camp gallops into Varennes. It is all over. Even Bouillé flies across the frontier. The Berline is turned round; and is soon on the road to Paris, with the unfortunate family within, and the couriers bound with ropes. upon the box. Three or four thousand men, armed with pikes and muskets, surround the carriage. As the cavalcade slowly went on, the people in the villages uttered reproaches and threats to the king and queen. They bore the insults with that calmness which marked their demeanour through all their subsequent heavy troubles. Two Commissioners from the National Assembly, Petion and Barnave, met them on the road; and their interference probably saved the lives of the unhappy family from the rage of barbarous crowds. At seven o'clock in the evening of Saturday, the captives re-entered the Tuileries. There was something more terrible than even the clamour of a mob, in the mode of their reception, as they passed through the streets of Paris. An Englishman has described the scene: "Profound silence was recommended to the people on the entrance of the royal family; and it was in general observed. I stood in the Champs Elysées, on the edge of the road, from three till near eight, and I never saw more tranquillity, or even