up half the Fauxbourg St. Antoine, and all the streets surrounding the Bastille, if it went off at all. This was a serious consideration for me where I was then situated. So, telling my hostess of what I had heard, I decamped with considerable celerity, and began to retrace my steps towards the Hôtel de Ville.

I have since learned that the danger was greater than I had at the time in fact supposed it to be, for it was not a mere empty threat on the part of M. de Launay. He had actually taken up a lighted match, and was proceeding to the powder magazine, when the sentries prevented his putting his design into execution by presenting their fixed bayonets at his breast. It is further stated, and I believe with perfect truth, that he summoned a council of the garrison, and stated to them, that as there seemed no hope of relief from without, and as, from fatigue and reluctance to fire on their fellow-countrymen, their defence was growing slacker and slacker, he saw nothing for it but to blow up the Bastille and themselves together rather than put themselves into the hands of the sanguinary populace. The garrison did not in the slightest degree coincide with the governor's view of the case; they had not such reasons to fear the effects of unpopularity as he had, and had no more desire to be suddenly sent up to figure in mid-air than I had myself.

They accordingly took effectual means to prevent his surprising them with the execution of his project, and after much importunity persuaded him to allow them to send a flag of truce up to one of the towers, with a drum to beat a retreat. This was accordingly done. The Parisians, it was probable, had no great knowledge of the different points of war; but of the meaning of a white flag thus displayed they could not but be aware. They still, however, continued their efforts to enter the place; partly because they feared some stratagem, and partly because their fire from so many different quarters is said to have fallen among each other, and to have been mistaken to have proceeded from the place. Nay, some affirm still, that the fire from the Bastille did not cease; but I think the former version the more probable. The confusion was naturally extreme, and the mistake one which might easily arise.

At last, however, they began to perceive that the fire had slackened, and they approached closer to the bridge, still discharging volleys, crying out,"Lower the bridge!-lower the bridge!" At this moment

the officer of the Swiss detachment, whose instigation had powerfully contributed to encourage M. de Launay in his defence, parleyed with the assailants through a sort of loophole which was near the drawbridge. He demanded, in the name of the governor, that the garrison should be allowed to march out with the honours of war. This was peremptorily refused. They then wrote down the terms on which they were willing to surrender; namely, that they would lay down. their arms, and give up the Bastille,-in consideration of which, they should receive no personal harm. He added, "We have 20,000 lbs. of powder in the place, and, if you do not grant us these terms, we will blow ourselves and the whole neighbourhood into the air." The paper was handed through the same loophole through which he had first spoken. A large plank was thrown across the ditch, and the same person whom I have already mentioned as having withdrawn the waggon of blazing straw, passed across, received it, and handed it to an officer of the queen's regiment, who, strange to say, had been most active in the attack. This officer, M. Elie, read the paper aloud. The people cried out, "Lower your bridge-nothing shall happen to you!" and M. Elie, "We accept your terms, upon the word of an officer (foi d'officier)-lower your bridge!"

But M. Elie found it impossible to keep the promise he had thus given. The moment the bridge was lowered and the gate opened, the people rushed in in tumultuous crowds. Acknowledging no commander, they disregarded the capitulation, they violated every feeling of humanity. It is now that the painful part of the narrative begins. It was impossible, under such circumstances of excitement as I was placed in, not to have the feelings enlisted on the one side or the other. I confess my hopes and wishes had gone along with the assailants. Had they been as merciful after their victory as they were brave in gaining it, I should have had no cause to regret their success.

The Bastille surrendered at about twenty minutes before five o'clock. For about half an hour previously to this time I had left the Rue St. Antoine, and gone to the Place de l'Hôtel de Ville, where, as may be supposed, no inconsiderable degree of anxiety and agitation existed. After remaining here some time, I was just beginning to think of turning homeward, when I heard the most tremendous shouts and yells proceeding from the direction of the Bastille; and two or three indi viduals, covered with dust and sweat and blood, came running towards

VOL. III.

E E

the Hôtel de Ville, crying that the Bastille was taken, and that they were bringing the garrison this way. Accordingly I soon saw some of the miserable invalids being dragged along like slaves rather than prisoners, and undergoing every species of contumely and insult. Two of them, I heard, had been hanged in the next street; and when the rest of them were under examination in the Hôtel de Ville, the populace kept crying out" Give them up to us! that we may hang them! -They have shed the blood of citizens; let us hang them!" But the Gardes Françaises who, after the surrender, displayed great humanity, interfered in their behalf. They represented that they had only obeyed the commands of their officers; that they would have been fired upon by the Swiss troops if they had refused to obey; and, to sum all, they begged, as the only recompense for their services, to be allowed to save the lives of these soldiers. On such a plea it could not at that moment be denied them; though I question whether their other arguments would have had the desired effect. The invalids were given into the hands of the Gardes Françaises, who escorted them to their head-quarters at the Hôtel des Invalides.

This was scarcely done when another party drew near with the officers. These did not go into the Hôtel de Ville at all; but cried out -"A la Grêve! à la Grêve!" and proceeded in that direction, dragging their unfortunate victims with them.

66

A cold shudder came over me. I could not doubt what their fate would be. The populace seemed drunk with rage;-they yelled forth the most horrible cries of vengeance against the unhappy men who were in their hands; and, as they hurried them along, seemed almost too impatient to postpone their death till they arrived at the spot on which they had determined to inflict it. This was the common place of execution. They determined that those who had governed the Bastille should die where the vilest criminals undergo the ignominious sentence of the law. I was inexpressibly shocked. The sight of men so shortly to be deprived of life, and that in so dreadful a manner, was sufficient in itself to raise the strongest emotions of terror and disgust. But I had never previously witnessed any scene at all similar; I had never beheld living men so soon to become inanimate corpses. The effect on me had all the additional effect of novelty in addition to its own inseparable horrors.

Yet notwithstanding that I felt all this, and felt it more strongly

than I can express in words, I was irresistibly impelled to go with the crowd, and witness with my own eyes how it would all end. I had seen during that day many individuals meet death;-but, oh! what difference there is between its being inflicted and suffered 66 in the trade of war," and the being massacred by a sanguinary mob, with no one near but enemies, with every eye beaming hatred and rage upon you, instead of those soothing appliances which we need so much at the moment when the spirit takes its awful flight into eternity. Yet, sick and shuddering as I was, I followed the multitude to the Place de Grêve.

M. de Launay, the governor, seemed to be the object of universal execration. He not only was the governor of the Bastille, but he had been individually and peculiarly obnoxious, and hated as such. It is said that there would more than once have been insurrections of the prisoners and sometimes of the troops in the Bastille, if it had not been for the mildness, firmness, and moderation of M. de Losme, his major, who was as much beloved as the governor was detested. But, alas! this amiable and excellent man was here also; and no distinction seemed to be made between the fate which impended over both. There were only these two officers who arrived at the Place de Grêve -some had escaped altogether-and two had been killed on the way.

M. de Launay was a man apparently near fifty; his head was uncovered, and his dress was greatly disordered. His face was the picture of despair. Though a brave man physically I doubt not-indeed, his endeavour to blow up the Bastille sufficiently proves this-the horrors of such a death as this seemed almost to have unstrung his nerves. His cheek was deadly white-his eyes were glazed and haggard. In the midst of the most appalling cries he was dragged to the usual place of execution: a ruffian behind him raised an axe with which he was armed-struck-and the head rolled upon the pavement! It was instantly snatched up, placed upon the end of a pike, and carried off to the Palais Royal.

M. de Losme's fate was different. M. de Launay was just slain, and the crowd were tearing the major one from another, that each might be the most forward in putting him to death, when a man apparently about thirty forced his way through the crowd-threw himself between De Losme and his nearest assailants, and exclaimed, "Stop! you know not what you do;-you are about to kill the most humane,

the most excellent man in the world! I was five years in the Bastille to his humanity I owe every thing!-all other prisoners would say the same!"

M. de Losme, who seemed to have retained his courage and presence of mind in a very remarkable manner, raised his eyes upon hearing these words, and said, "Young man, what are you about to do? Retire-you will only sacrifice yourself without being able to

save me!"

But the Marquis de Pelleport (for so I have since learned this generous person is named) would not thus abandon the man to whom he felt cause of gratitude. He perceived that the crowd, literally howling for blood, paid no attention to what he said-probably did not hear it. But, although he was unarmed, he flung himself before M. de Losme, and strove to keep off the populace with his hands. He received several wounds from axes, from sabres, and from bayonets; at length he seized a gun from the hands of one of those who pressed most upon him, and made the most furious resistance both for himself and for his friend. At last he was overpowered by numbers, disarmed, and forced at a distance from him. He then urged his way through the crowd, and sunk exhausted on the steps of the Hôtel de Ville. I strove to get near him, to be of what assistance I could to a man so noble; but before I could extricate myself from the throng he had already been removed by his friends. I have since heard he is doing well.

M. de Losme in this conflict was overwhelmed with blows; he fell pierced with wounds; and M. de Pelleport has at least the consolation of reflecting that he secured this excellent person from dying, even in outward form, the death of a malefactor.

I have since been over the remains of the Bastille. The workmen are proceeding very rapidly in the work of demolition. It is not true that there were, as it was reported, several skeletons found, or any prisoners chained, or any instruments of torture. The real horrors and atrocities of the place were sufficient both to give rise to and to render needless such exaggerations. At the time of the surrender the Bastille contained only seven prisoners. One of them had been there within three weeks of thirty years! the date of his entrance was on the 4th of August, 1759. One poor creature, from the length of his solitary confinement, has become alienated in his mind. He has so long