1For a long time, reports of hidden dungeons and forgotten prisoners agitated Paris. Paris had had a mountain on its breast, and could not accustom itself to the deliverance from it.

2To pity succeeded fear. Had they really escaped from that calamity with which De Launay had threatened them? They reported that there were underground passages from the Bastille to Vincennes; and that in those passages the powder was concealed just under the Faubourg St. Antoine, which would one day blow up from one end to the other.

3These fears had a good effect. They, for a time, dissipated the feeling of famine which was gradually creeping over Paris.

4Foulon said, “The French have no bread; why should they not eat hay? My horses eat it.”

5True or not, he expiated this sneer with his life, and they carried his head about with a mouthful of hay stuffed between his teeth.

6But, alas! it seemed that the French people had nothing to do but to eat what Foulon recommended.

7From Paris, the fear of famine was dispersed among the provinces.

8“Foulon,” said all, “had predicted it.”

9They must mow all France.

10All said that his ghost appeared to execute the menace.

11Then report went about that bands of robbers had been seen mowing the green wheat.

12The municipality of Soissons wrote to the Assembly a letter full of fears. “The robbers had cut,” they said, “all the wheat for miles around, and were now marching on the city.”

13Soissons demanded help.

14The Assembly sent a thousand men, who searched on all sides, twelve miles a-day. They could not find the robbers.

15No matter, ten, twenty, a hundred people had seen them.

16In the midst of this disputed news, other transpired which was but too true.

17A certain lord having heard that De Launay had wished to blow up the Bastille, resolved, if it were in his power, to complete that which the Governor had been unable to do.

18He announced that, in honor of the taking of the Bastille, he would give a grand entertainment, to which all were invited—workmen, artisans, tradesmen, countrymen, soldiers, women, old men, and children.

19In this time of famine, when all lived on an ounce or two of bread per diem, a good dinner was a public service. Everybody—about 5,000 persons, that is to say—rushed to the fête. In the midst of it, an explosion was heard, and the surrounding plain was covered with dissevered limbs.

20The gentleman, whose name was Mennay de Quincy, escaped to Switzerland, and avoided punishment.

21Later on, he returned; and, as he was a member of Parliament, he was arraigned before it, and acquitted.

22But the breach between the nobles and the people was now opened. The poor Count de Haus, who was incapable of committing such a crime, was accused of abetting M. de Quincy.

23Some days afterwards, being at Neuville le Pont, he was insulted by the people, who proceeded to extremities; and he had but just time to spring on his horse, and gallop off to a place of safety.

24Fear had now seized upon us, as well as every one else.

25On the 18th of July, four days after the taking of the Bastille, the Prince Condé, the Duke d’Enghien, M. Vaudrevil, and M. de Broglie were announced.

26Their arrival astonished my uncle, as it was not the hunting season; the wood being very thick, the shooting was difficult.

27The Prince de Condé replied that he only wished to hunt a stag, the King having commanded him, in the possibility of a war, to examine into the condition of the defences of Verdun.

28The courier was ordered to procure horses from Clermont, and to command the two carriages punctually at five o’clock.

29So, taking this view of the matter, there was nothing extraordinary in it at all.

30The Princes, mindful of the sport they had had, were determined to enjoy another day of it, although it was not the proper season; but they could surely do as they liked.

31The Duke d’Enghien commanded me to accompany them.

32I said good-bye to my books for the day, took the gun which the Duke had given me, and followed them.

33The Prince was then eighteen years of age—not much older than I was. It was probably on account of the similarity of our ages, that I was favored by so much of his notice.

34I remarked that, though courteous as usual, he was profoundly sorrowful.

35He asked me what progress I was making in my education.

36I told him. When I mentioned M. Drouet, he asked if he were not the postmaster at St. Menehould.

37On my response in the affirmative, “A hot Republican, if I mistake not?” he said.

38I replied that, through him, this part of the country had been apprized of the capture of the Bastille.

39He asked me some questions about the general disposition of the country—as much of the nobles as of the lower classes.

40I told him that the love of the people for their King was great, and that they equally hated the nobles, which was true.

41He covered his face with his handkerchief, and sighed.

42I looked at him with astonishment.

43“Pardon me, Duke,” said I; “but I heard the Prince de Condé say that he was going to inspect the fortifications of Verdun, in case of war.”

44He looked at me to see what I was driving at.

45“Excuse my question, Duke,” said I, “but do you think it probable that we shall have war?”

46“Very probable,” said he, looking at me in his turn. “But why that question?”

47“Because, in that event, your Grace, I shall not have lost my time.”

48“What would you do if there were war?”

49“If France be menaced, every one capable of bearing a musket should fly to its defence.”

50He looked at my gun. It was the one which he had given me.

51“So you can not only carry a gun, but you know how to use it.”

52“In fact, your Grace,” said I, laughing, “thanks to your noble gift, I am such a capital shot, that if I had a Prussian or Austrian at the end of it, I fancy they would pass an uncomfortable quarter of an hour.”

53“You think so?”

54“I am certain of it. A Prussian or an Austrian would be bigger than that pigeon you see there.”

55And I pointed to one perched about three hundred paces off, on the dry branch of a tree.

56“You are mad,” said the Prince. “That bird is three times out of range.”

57“Certainly, your Grace, for shot; but not for ball?”

58“Your gun is loaded, then, with ball?”

59“Yes, your Grace; I seldom use anything else.”

60“What are you doing, Henri?” the Prince de Condé said, as he appeared in view.

61“Nothing, father,” replied the Duke; “I am only saying a few words to this boy here.”

62He then bade me farewell, saying that he hoped I would always “think of him kindly.” And waving his hand, he resumed his seat by his father’s side, and disappeared.

63I stood almost heart-broken on the spot where the Prince addressed his last words to me.

64One would have thought that I had a presentiment of the awful circumstances under which I should meet him again.

65All the towns had organized national guards, after the example of Paris. Châlons had set the example; St. Menehould had followed it. M. Drouet was captain. He came to ask Bertrand to be his lieutenant, and to see how many men he could recruit at Islettes.

66It was the report of bandits having been seen about which induced them to organize the National Guard.

67In eight days, all France was armed. Each day the National Assembly gave audiences to ten couriers. It had at its disposal a million of men.

68Drouet and Bertrand took a stroll in the village of Islettes.

69They enrolled twenty men.

70The keepers of the Forest of Argonne enlisted themselves and formed that part of the brigade of which Father Descharmes was chief.

71I wished to be one of M. Bertrand’s detachment, consequently in M. Drouet’s company.

72He accompanied me as far as Father Descharmes’ cottage, and asked me about the visit of the evening before.

73He also asked if the Princes had not returned.

74“No; because they have gone to Verdun,” said I.

75“Why did they not send to hire their horses from my place?”

76“Because they preferred to have them from Clermont.”

77“Hum!” said M. Jean Baptiste. “Do you know who they were who accompanied the Duke d’Enghien and the Prince de Condé?”

78“I heard them mention M. Vandreul and M. Broglie.”

79“Exactly,” said he. “Réné, they come not to inspect Verdun. They have abandoned the King, and quitted France. They have gone to intrigue with strangers.”

80Then I remembered the sadness of the Duke d’Enghien; and I called to mind his peculiar look, when I said that an Austrian or Prussian were easier to shoot than a pigeon. I also remembered his last words before leaving—“I hope that you will always think of me with kindness.”

81Poor Prince! He had left France, and that was the cause of his sorrow.

82“Would that all would follow his example,” murmured M. Drouet, “from the first to the last! But,” continued he, grinding his teeth, “I fancy that if the King or Queen were to try that move, they would not escape so easily.”