« ElőzőTovább »
to bring some fatal secret to light. Meanwhile, the man gazed upon us with an impenetrable vacancy of look, and we at last left the cottage without seeing anything that could confirm my suspicions. I resolved to inspect the garden once more, and a number of idlers having been by this time collected, drawn to the spot by the sight of a stranger with two armed men engaged in searching the premises, I made enquiries of some of them whether they knew anything about a well in that place. I could get no information at first, but at length an old woman came slowly forward leaning on crutch.
A well!' cried she, is it the well you are looking after? That has been gone these thirty years. I remember it as if it were only yesterday, how, many a time, when I was a young girl I used to amuse myself by throwing stones into it, and hearing the splash they used to make in the water."
And could you tell where that well used to be?' asked I, almost breathless with excitement.
As near as I can remember; on the very spot on which your honour is standing,' said the old woman. 'I could have sworn it,' thought I, springing from the place as if I had trod upon a scorpion.
Need I say that we set to work to dig up the ground. At about eighteen inches deep, we came to a layer of bricks, which being broken up, gave to view some boards which were easily removed, after which we beheld the mouth of the well.
I was quite sure it was here,' said the woman. What a fool the old fellow was to stop it up, and then have to go so far for water!'
By this time nearly the whole town had gathered around the spot, and now that this horrible fact had come to light, everybody had some crime to tell of, which had been laid to the charge of the old couple. The people who predict after an event, are numerous.
The old couple were brought before the proper authorities and privately and separately examined. The old man persisted in his denial most pertinaciously, but his wife at length confessed, that in concert with her husband she had once, a very long time ago, murdered a pedlar whom they had met one night on the high road, and who had been incautious enough to tell them of a considerable sum of money which he had about him, and whom, in consequence, they induced to pass the night at their house. They had taken advantage of the heavy sleep induced by fatigue, to strangle him, his his body had been put into the chest, the chest thrown into the well, and the well stopped up.
son to believe themselves secure from detection. They had not however been able to silence the voice of conscience; they fled from the sight of their fellow men; they thought they beheld wherever they turned, mute accusers; they trembled at the slightest noise, and silence thrilled them with terror. They had often formed a determination to leave the scene of their crime, to fly to some distant land, but still some undefinable fascination kept them near the remains of their victim.
I never had the courage to re-visit the town where I had been an actor in such a tragedy. The story was told again by me last winter in a company where it gave rise to a long and animated discussion upon the credibility to be attached to dreams. Ancient and modern history was ransacked to find arguments on both sides. Plutarch was quoted in what he says of a certain Lysimachus, grand-son of Aristides, who embraced the profession of interpreter of dreams, and realized wealth by the trade. Cicero states that a dream of Cecilia, daughA sounding-line furnished with hooks was now letter of Babaricus, appeared of sufficient importance to down into the well; the crowd pressing around us, and be the subject of a decree of the Senate. One of the breathlessly bending over the dark and fetid hole, the most indefatigable commentators of the sixteenth censecrets of which seemed hidden in impenetrable obscu-tury, Caelius Rhodizinus, when labouring to correct the rity. This was repeated several times, without any re- text of Pliny which he has singularly obscured, was sult. At length, penetrating below the mud, the hooks stopped by the word ectrapelis. In vain did he work at caught in an old chest, upon the top of which had been the ineaning for a whole week-he ended by falling asleep thrown a great many large stones, and after much time--and in a dream the solution of the difficulty came into and effort, we succeeded in raising it to daylight. The his head. It was during sleep that Henricus ab sides and lid were decayed and rotten; it needed no Heeres, a Dutch writer, very celebrated in his day, but locksmith to open it, and we found within what I was very obscure in ours, composed all his works; once certain we should find, and which paralysed with horror awake, he had but to transcribe from memory. all the spectators who had not my pre-convictions-we found the remains of a human body.
Two rather rare works published in 1690, and 1706, had for subject, the dreams of Louis XIV. The following occurrence is well known in Scotland.
The police-officers who had accompanied me, now rushed into the the house, and secured the person of the old man. As to his wife-no one could, at first, tell what had become of her; after some search, however, she was found hidden behind a bundle of faggots.
A gentleman residing some miles from Edinburgh, had occasion to pass the night in that city. In the middle of the night, he dreamed that his house was on fire, and that one of his children was in the midst of the flames. He woke, and so strong was the impression upon his mind, that he instantly got out of his bed, saddled his horse and galloped home. In accordance with his dream he found his house in flames, and thus arriving, saved his little girl, about ten months old, who had been forgotten, in a room which the devouring element had just reached.
Another fact we borrow from a recent work by a physician. A mother who was uneasy about the health of a child who was out at nurse, dreamed that it had been buried alive. The horrid thought woke her; and she determined to set off for the place without a moment's delay. On her arrival she learned that after a sudden and short illness, the child had died, and had just then been buried. Half frantic from this intelligence, she insisted upon the grave being opened, and the moment the coffin-lid was raised she carried off the child in her arms. He still breathed, and maternal cares restored him to life. The truth of this anecdote has been warranted—we have seen the child so wonderfully rescued-he is now, in 1843, a man in the prime of life, and filling an important post.
The pedlar being from another country, his disappearance had occasioned no enquiry; there was no witness of the crime; and as its traces had been carefully concealed from every eye, the two criminals had good rea
Terrified by the deposition of his wife, and unable to resist the overwhelming proofs against him, the man at length made a similar confession, and six weeks after the unhappy criminals died on the scaffold, in accordance with the sentence of the Parliament of Toulouse. They died penitent.
The well was once more shut up, and the cottage levelled to the ground; it was not, however, until fifty years had in some measure deadened the memory of the terrible transaction, that the ground was cultivated.-It is now a fine field of corn.
Such was the dream, and its result.
The Jesuit Malvenda, the author of a Commentary on the Bible, saw one night in his sleep, a man laying his hand upon his chest, who announced to him that he would soon die. He was then in perfect health, but soon after being seized by a pulmonary disorder, was carried off. This is told by the sceptic Bayle, who relates it as fact too weil authenticated, even for the apostle of Phyrrhonism to doubt.
We will conclude this present paper by the following which is not merely given on the authority of the most illustrious of our modern chemists, but which is related as occurring to himself.
Sir Humphrey Davy dreamed one night that he was in Italy, where he had fallen ill. The room in which he seemed to lie struck him in a very peculiar manner, and he particularly noticed all the details of the furniture, etc., remarking in his dream, how unlike anything English they were. In his dream he appeared to be carefully nursed by a young girl whose fair and delicate features were imprinted upon his memory. After some years, Davy travelled in Italy, and being taken ill there, actually found himself in the very room of which he had dreamed, attended upon by the very same young woman whose features had made such a deep impression upon his mind. The reader need not be reminded of the authenticity of a statement resting upon such authority, eminent alike for truth that would not deceive, and intelligence that could not be deceived.
(To be continued.)
A SOLDIER'S SKULL; OR, THE MURDERS OF
A terrible example" says the Times (December 29th) "has lately been given of military discipline in India.' How exemplary this discipline, a few words which should be printed in letters of blood, will suffice to display.
The soldiers' life in India, when not engaged in active service, is of a kind the monotony and vacuity of which are of the most wearisome and intolerable des. cription. Having really nothing to do, he is ordered long purposeless drills, marches and counter marches, over the same dull piece of ground, after which he again returns to his loitering, and dozing, and drinking of rum, until he experiences all the self-disgust of utter idleness. His existence eventually becomes unbearable, and he commits some offence, solely in the hope of getting transported-anything for a change, and to save himself from going mad. Several offences have recently been committed in the army in India with no other object. With a view to stop this desire for transportation to cure this natural yearning after some reliefthe Commander-in-Chief has taken to shooting the men. He hopes by these means to reconcile all the rest to their situation, reclaim them to a sense of the pleasures of duty, and revive in their hearts the love of a military life in India.
BY R. H. HORNE.
SINCE no one can imagine that the epithet of a "thick-skull" refers so much to the density of the ternal bone, as the density of the brain within, it would appear that military commanders entertain a fixed opinion that anything in the world may be done with the skulls of their men, and the said men never find out that they are treated either as beasts of the field, or fools of the barracks. Their backs may be flogged till bereft of skin, and the blade-bones become visible; they may be cast into dark dungeons for any period, there to linger upon bread and water, and constant midnight; and they may be hanged up to any tree, or their skulls may be blown to pieces-not in the regular way of business and by the infuriate foe,-but as a special example of "discipline" by their own friends, and in cool blood. A striking instance of this has recently occurred in India. If the "sacredness" of human life be at the mercy of the slightest movement of a minister's pen, a field-marshal's baton, or a naval commander's momentary impulse, and that, directly or indirectly, the noble gift of God, can be instantly snatched away by a man in "authority," and cast back before the footstool of its Creator; and if we, living in a state of what is called highly civilized society, must hear ourselves assured that these legalized murders are necessary as great examples (which we deny) we must still feel strongly that it is permitted to the denizens of every free country, and imperatively the articles of war, than a poor creature has of outrag demanded at the hands of the public writer, to entering the laws of his country, who smashes a pane of glass his solemn protest against all useless cruelties, and in order to get a night's lodging in the station-house. to denounce all revolting exhibitions of horror, and Surely such conditions as these cannot be the inevitable hold them up to public execration. They are most un-conditions of military life in India, otherwise it is but doubtedly "examples" (of something) but as to their too clear that even the most terrible penalty will fail to effect, they are utterly demoralizing and breed a spirit preserve discipline, and that of the two horrible alter
Here is the whole pith and poison of the matter, very fairly and fully stated, from the Times newspaper: Now the point to which we would particularly direct attention is the moving cause of all this fearful disorganisation. It will at once have occurred to any one familiar with such matters, that the ordinary materials of mischief could not solely have been at work here. An inex-judicious commanding officer, tyrannical sergeants, the leaven of a few bad spirits, an unpopular station, or occasionally, even too severe a service, will doubtless disorganise any particular corps and produce such disasters as these. But here it is morally impossible that such conditions should have concurred, in different regiments, and in different quarters, to develope, at the same time, the same examples of mutiny. Some one predominant influence must have been operating throughout all the cantonments quite irrespective of the peculiar constitution of the corps; and it happens that we are left in no doubt as to what this influence is. It is simply the intolerable burden of the every-day life of a soldier in India. The punishment of imprisonment was avowedly inefficient, only because it was found less irksome than ordinary duty. Transportation was equally useless as a threat, because the men preferred any imaginable prospect to the reality before them. The sufferer in the case related above, made no secret of his motives. The officer whom he had insulted was not an abusive or an aggravating sergeant, but one whose disposition was peculiarly inoffensive. In fact, he avowed on the courtmartial that he had committed the crime solely because he was weary of his life, and would fain be transported; so that he had no more criminal intention of breaking
natives which we humanely submit to the soldier, the discharge of his bounden duty will appear the worst. It is necessary, perhaps, that we should inform our readers that the conditions alluded to do not involve any tremendous service, any intolerable privations, any unparalleled exposure, or any vindictive severity at the hands of the officers. On the contrary, the duty in these parts is mainly confined to the drilling grounds; rum and rations are almost unlimited; of exposure there is literally nothing; and the spirit of the officers has been shown by a refusal, in more than one case, to pass sentence of death, even at the direct instance of the Commander-in-chief, conveyed in no palatable terms. The truth is, that it is just this absence of every possible rational occupation which has engendered the evil."
self-loathing-and of the objectless and intolerable drudgery of drills up and down-marches and countermarches without end-halt, right wheel, and halt, left wheel, equally to go nowhere-right about face, only to see what he has seen already to sickening samenessforward, as before-evermore " as you were." To escape from this he has risked the chance of death-and found it. He did not care about his life, but he had in fact, intended only to get himself transported to some other place, he cared not where, to do some other sort of thing, he cared not what. The Commander-in-Chief, however, thought that an example" was necessary, and that this poor fellow would make a particularly good one-and so "his skull was blown to atoms."
But there is one thing in all this, far more important Observe this well, all ye who love peace, and desire than the display of how contemptuous an estimate is to see the social and intellectual progress of humanity-formed by a military commander of the heads or hearts the British soldier has at last discovered that his head of the men whose lives have been placed at his disposal. was given him for other purposes than to be a mark for It is the very marked circumstance of the fire of an enbullets-that he has a mind as well as a bayonet-and tire rank of men missing the object, succeeded by a colthat he is capable of desiring rational occupation to a lective fire from the rear rank with precisely the same degree that drives him half mad! result. Let commanders endeavour to see something in this, besides a bad aim, or a feeling of insubordination"-let them see the spirit of outraged nature in it, and have a care how they carry their contempt of their fellow-creatures to so insufferable a pitch. There will come of it much more than mere mutiny.
Let us now turn to contemplate the "exemplary" fate of the last victim, who is stated to have raised his hand against a sergeant of no tyrannical or bad nature, and with no provocation, but having literally no other object than to get transported from a maddening life of idleness and monotony-this man's last scene is thus recorded.
"The awful apparatus of a military execution was duly arranged-the open square, the muffled drums, the dead march, and the silent muster. The prisoner was left kneeling on his coffin before the firing party, and the fatal signal was given,-when a slight shiver was the only perceptible result of the volley which should have sent him to his last account. The reserved fire of the rear rank was delivered with no greater effect, and the horror of the scene was consummated by the act of the Provost Marshal, who in discharge of his hideous duty stepped up with a pistol and literally blew the criminal's skull to atoms."
Here is discipline in its most exemplary form! Could any reasonable Commander-in-Chief wish for more? Nor was this all. It was attended with the narrow escape of a second victim.
In his agitation he directed the pistol sideways instead of against the butt, and the ball, after doing its deadly work, actually passed through the cap of a man in the ranks, who thus escaped by an inch the fate of his guilty comrade."
This would have been one of those arguments that "" prove too much." But does not this monstrous scene already prove too much? We think so. What says our contemporary just quoted.
"It is not," continues the writer, "with any desire of questioning the necessity of these examples, that we have introduced so fearful a subject."
Not!-surely the duty of a public journalist lies the other way? It is expressly to question this diabolical act, misnamed a necessity, that we now address our readers. These hideous examples of what are they examples? Of ignorance, chiefly; of wilful blindness, in part, and of old despotic habits in the army, too rooted in evil and arrogance to be moved by the reforming, refining, and enlarging intelligence of the present times. We have, at last, found out that the British soldier is not a mere machine; and that he actually has his own human nature at bottom--and enough of mind (though canteens are encouraged, and reading-rooms are discountenanced) to be capable of loathing utter idleness, and of being driven nearly insane by the sheer futility of monotonous days-hopeless days, listless and stupified, full of oaths and rum, and dull vice, and
SCENES AND CHARACTERS FROM THE FRENCH
Translated for " Howitt's Journal,"
FROM LAMARTINE'S "HISTOIRE DES GIRONDINS." (Continued from p. 121.)
THE FLIGHT TO VARENNES.
MEANTIME the Royal Family had taken a few moments repose without undressing in M. Sausse's rooms, spite of the threatening murmurs of voices and hurrying of feet which each moment increased under their windows. Such was the state of things at seven o'clock in the morning. The Queen did not sleep. All the passions of the wife, the mother, the Queen, anger, terror, and despair, so besieged her soul, that her hair, fair the night before, was white on the morrow.
Yet still the captives were far from despairing. Every instant they expected to see M. de Bouillé arrive; the slightest movement in the crowd, the least sound of arms in the street, they imagine the announcement of his arrival. The courier despatched to Paris had only left Varennes at three in the morning. It would take him twenty hours to reach Paris, as many to return. The time consumed in convoking the Assembly, and in its deliberations, could not be less than three or four more hours. Thus, at least, M. de Bouillé was eight and forty hours in advance of the orders from Paris. Besides, in what state would Paris be?
The King had been able to communicate freely with several officers of the detachments. M. de Guoguelas, M. de Damas, and M. de Choiseul, had penetrated to him. The Corporation of Varennes shewed much respect and pity for the King, even in the execution of what they | considered their duty. M. Derlons, who commanded a squadron of hussars, informed by the commander of the Varennes detachment who had escaped at two o'clock in the morning, of the arrest of the King, without awaiting the orders of his general, had caused his hus
sars to mount, and had galloped to Varennes to carry off the King by force. He found the gates barricaded and defended by numbers of National Guards. His hussars were refused admittance. But M. Derlons leaving his squadron without, dismounted, desiring to be introduced to the King, which was agreed to. His object was at first to inform Louis that M. de Bouillé was preparing to march at the head of the Royal Germans. But he had also another object, to assure himself with his own eyes whether it were impossible for his squadron to overcome all obstacles and carry off the King. M. Derlons returned in despair from his interview, but remained before the gates awaiting the superior force of M. de Bouillé.
The aide-de-camp of M. de La Fayette, M. Romeuf, despatched by that general, and bearing the order of the Assembly, reached Varennes at half-past seven. The Queen, who knew him, reproached him in the most pathetic manner for the odious mission with which his general had charged him. M. Romeuf sought in vain to calm her irritation by all the marks of respect and devotion compatible with the rigour of his orders. The Queen, passing from invectives to tears, gave free course to her despair. M. Romeuf having placed the written order of the Assembly on the bed where the Dauphin lay, the Queen seized the paper, threw it on the ground, and treading it under foot, exclaimed that such a paper defiled the bed of her son.
the river; but although there is one they do not discover it. He learns that the garrisons of Verdun and Metz are advancing with cannon; the country swarms with National Guards; his cavalry show hesitation; the horses are wearied with their journey of nine leagues. All energy is lost with hope. M. de Bouillé silently conducts them back to the gates of Stenay. Then, followed by one or two of his officers, he crosses the frontiers amid shots, rather desiring death than avoiding punishment.
Rapidly the royal carriages returned towards Châlons. All the population lined the roads to see this captive King brought back in triumph by the people, who believed itself betrayed. It is with difficulty the bayonets and pikes of the National Guards open a way through this crowd, which ever increases. Cries and gestures of fury, laughter, and outrage, never weary. The clamour of the people ceases and re-commences with each turning of the wheels. It was a calvary of sixty leagues, of which each step was a martyrdom. One man alone, M. de Dampierre, an old Royalist, wishing to approach and express a respectful compassion to his master was massacred beneath the carriage wheels. The Royal Family had to pass over his bleeding body. The King and Queen having made the sacrifice of their lives, summoned for death all their dignity and all their courage. Passive courage was the virtue of Louis XVI. There was sufficient hatred of the people in the blood and pride of the Queen to cause her inwardly to scorn the insults with which they profaned her. Madame Elizabeth besought in a low voice succour from on high. The two children were astonished at all this hatred. The august family would never have reached Paris alive, had not the Commissioners from the Assembly arrived in time to intimidate and govern this sedition.
Preparations for departure were hastened, in fear that M. de Bouillé might force the gates or cut off their return. The King, as much as possible, retarded their departure. Every minute gained gave him a chance of deliverance: he disputed them one by one with his capAt the moment of departure, one of the Queen's women feigned a serious and sudden indisposition. The Queen refused to depart without her. She only yielded to threats of violence and the cries of the impatient peoThe commissioners met the carriages between Dorple. She would not allow any one to touch her son. She mans and Epernay. Barnave and Péthion hastened to took him in her arms, got into the carriage, and the enter the King's Birline to partake his danger and royal cortège, escorted by three or four thousand Na-shield him by their persons. They succeeded in pretional Guards, slowly pursued its way towards Paris. serving him from death but not from outrage. The popular fury withdrawn from the carriages, shewed itself farther off along the road. All persons suspected of attachment to the King, were basely outraged. An ecclesiastic having approached and exhibiting signs of respect and grief on his countenance, was seized by the mob, thrown down by the horses, and would have been immolated under the queen's eyes, had not Barnave, by a sublime impulse, thrown himself out of the carriage window exclaiming,—
"Frenchmen, will you become a nation of assas
What had the Marquis de Bouillé been about during this long time of suspense and anxiety? He had passed the night before the gates of Dun, two leagues from Varennes, awaiting the couriers who were to announce to him the approach of the carriages. At four in the morning fearing discovery, and finding no courier arrive, he returned to Stenay, so as to be enabled to give orders to his troops, should any accident have occurred to the King. He was at the gates of Stenay at half-past four, when the two officers whom he had placed there the evening before, and the commander who had been abandoned by his troops, informed him of the King's arrest at eleven the previous night. Confounded by this intelligence, he gave instant orders for the regiment of Royal Germans to mount and follow him. The colonel of the regiment had received orders the evening before to have the horses ready saddled: this order had not been attended to, and thus three quarters of an hour were lost in preparations. It is nine leagues from Stenay to Varennes by a mountainous and difficult road. M. de Barnave's countenance was full of strength, but kind Bouillé used all possible speed. At a quarter past nine and frank, his manners polished, his language decent, he reached Varennes. His regiment followed close be- his bearing saddened in the presence of so much beauty hind. Whilst reconnoitring the town, M. de Bouillé and fallen greatness. No doubt restrained by his colperceived a troop of hussars, also apparently reconnoi-league Péthion, he did not express openly how during tring. It is the squadron of Dun commanded by M. this journey, he had been vanquished by the seductions Derlons M. Derlons informs his general that the King of pity, admiration, and respect, but this was shewn by has departed already an hour and a half, that the town his acts, and a treaty was concluded by looks. The is in a regular state of defence, and that M.M. de Choi- royal family felt that they had conquered Barnave. From seul, de Damas, and de Guoguelas, are prisoners. M. this day forth, his whole conduct justified this confide Bouillé resolves to follow the King and rescue him dence. Audacious against tyranny, he was yet powerfrom the National Guard. He sends out scouts to dis- less against weakness, grace, and misfortune. It was cover the fords by which the Royal Germans may cross this which cost him his life, but which ennobled his
Madame Elizabeth, struck with admiration of Barnave's courage, and fearing he would precipitate himself into the crowd, and be himself massacred, held him fast by the laps of the coat. From this moment the pious Princess, the Queen, and the King himself conceived a secret esteem for Barnave. They were astonished to find a respectful protector in the man they had considered an insolent enemy.
memory. Péthion, on the contrary, remained cold as a sectarian, rude as a Parvenu; he affected a rough familiarity with the royal family; he ate before the Queen, and flung the rinds of fruit through the carriage window, nearly soiling the King's face with them; when Madame Elizabeth poured out wine for him he took up the glass without thanking her. Louis XVI having asked him whether he was for the system of the two Chambers or for the Republic,
"I should be for the Republic," replied Péthion, "did I believe my country ripe for that form of government."
The prolonged clamours of the crowd at the King's entrance of the Tuileries announced to the Assembly their triumph. Business was interrupted for half an hour. A deputy rushes into the hall and reports that the three Gardes-du-corps are in the hands of the people, who are about to tear them to pieces. Twenty commissioners instantly depart to save them. They return a few minutes afterwards. The sedition has calmed itself before them. They have seen, they say, Péthion covering the window of the King's carriage with his body. Barnave enters and mounts the rostrum,
"We have fulfilled our mission," he says, "to the honour of France and the Assembly. We have preserved public tranquility and the King's safety. The King has told us that he never did intend to pass the frontiers of the kingdom. We travelled rapidly to Meaux to avoid the pursuit of M. de Bouille's troops. The National Guard and the troops have done their duty. The King is at the Tuileries!"
The Commissioners had written to the Assembly from Dormans to inform them of the King's route and to prepare them for the day and moment of their arrival. The approach to Paris offered the greatest danger from the number and fury of the people, the cortége had to traverse. The assembly redoubled their energy Such was this flight, which, had it succeeded, would and prudence to assure the safety of the King's person. have changed the whole character of the revolution. Thousands of placards were posted about, setting forth, The King so resigned and impassive, sunk for a time "That he who applauded the King should be bas-under so much grief and humiliation. For ten days he tinadoed; he who insulted him should be hanged." did not even exchange a word with his own family. His last struggle with misfortune seemed to have exhausted his strength. He seemed vanquished and longed, as it were, to die in advance. The Queen throwing herself with her children at his feet, at length broke the silence. The Queen had the heart of a hero; Louis the soul of a sage; but genius which unites wisdom with courage was wanting in both; one knew how to combat, the other how to submit, neither how to reign.
It was seven in the evening on the 25th of June when the captive King entered Paris. The people were gloomy, not furious. Thousands of eyes glared death into the carriages; not a voice expressed it. This sangfroid of hate did not escape the King.
(To be continued.)
The King offended, did not reply a single word till they reached Paris.
The day was intensely hot. A burning sun, whose rays were reflected from the pavement and bayonets, devoured the Berline in which ten people were crowded together. The clouds of dust raised by the feet of two or three hundred thousand spectators, were the only veil which from time to time concealed the humiliation of the King and Queen. The sweat of the horses, and the feverish breath of this thronging and excited multitude corrupted the atmosphere. The travellers wanted air. The brows of the two children were bathed in perspiration. The Queen trembling for them, precipitately lowered one of the carriage windows, and addressing the crowd in the hope of touching their feelings,
"Gentlemen!" cried she, " see the state in which my poor children are, we shall be suffocated!"
"We will suffocate thee in another way!" replied they in low voices.
No military honours were rendered to the supreme head of the army. The National guards leant on their arms, but did not salute; they looked on as the cortége passed with indifference and contempt.
The carriages entered the garden of the Tuileries by the draw-bridge. La Fayette on horse-back at the head of his taff, had gone to meet the cortége and now preceded it. During his absence, an immense crowd had inundated the garden, and the terraces, and obstructed the entrance to the château. The escort, with difficulty, passed through these tumultuous waves. Every one was to keep on his hat. M. de Guillermy, a member of the Assembly, alone remained uncovered, spite of the menaces and insults which this mark of respect drew upon him. Seeing that they were about to employ force to constrain him to imitate the universal insult, he flung his hat into the crowd so far that it could not brought back to him. It was at this moment that the Queen, perceiving La Fayette, and fearing for the lives of the faithful Gardes-du-corps seated on the box of the carriage, and threatened by the populace, exclaimed,—
Monsieur de la Fayette, save the Gardes-du-corps!" The royal family descended from the carriage at the bottom of the terrace. La Fayette received them from the hands of Barnave and Péthion. The children were borne in the arms of National-guards.