The Online Library of Liberty

A project of Liberty Fund, Inc.

• Preface
• The Diary and Letters of Gouverneur Morris
• Chapter I.
• Chapter II.
• Chapter III.
• Chapter IV.
• Chapter V.
• Chapter VI.
• Chapter VII.
• Chapter VIII.
• Chapter IX.
• Chapter X.
• Chapter XI.
• Chapter XII.
• Chapter XIII.
• Chapter XIV.
• Chapter XV.
• Chapter XVI.
• Chapter XVII.
• Chapter XVIII.
• Chapter XIX.
• Chapter XX.
• Chapter XXI.
• Chapter XXII.
• Chapter XXIII.
• Chapter XXIV.
• Chapter XXV.
• Chapter XXVI.

CHAPTER XXVI.

Lafayette refuses to obey the Assembly. Leaves France and is captured. King and queen are imprisoned in the Temple. Disorder reigns in Paris. Murders continue. Morris hears that the Brissotine faction desire to do him mischief. Letter to Washington. The dangers of living in Paris. Trials of Morris’s position. Retreat of the Prussians. Apprehension of a famine. Taking of Nice. Anxious uncertainty of Morris’s life. Letter to Jefferson on the state of affairs. Letters to friends assuring them of his well-being. Difficulty of sending letters safely. Letter to Alexander Hamilton. Morris becomes aware that the French Government desire his recall.

To secure the allegiance of the army was the first point to which the Legislative Assembly turned their attention after the overthrow of the throne; and accordingly three commissioners, armed with the new decrees, were sent to Lafayette at Sedan. Lafayette refused to obey the Assembly, and, after a vain effort to influence his troops, threw up his command and fled across the frontier, taking the road to the Netherlands. On reaching the Austrian advance posts, he was arrested and treated as a prisoner of war.

Commenting (September 12th) on the fate of Lafayette to Mr. Short, Minister at the Hague, Morris wrote: “Truly his circle is complete. He has spent all his fortune on a revolution, and is now crushed by the wheel which he had put in motion. He lasted longer than I expected. I have long lamented his situation, and feel more than ever a desire to alleviate his distress. His imprisonment was among the events which appeared to me not improbable. The reasons you urge for his liberation are cogent, and I hope they may be attended to. But supposing that M. de Lafayette were a natural born subject of America, and taken under the circumstances in which he was placed, I do not exactly see how the United States could claim him. If claimed and delivered up, would they not be bound to put him to death for having attacked a neutral power; or else, by the very act of acquitting him, declare war against those who had taken him? But M. de Lafayette is a Frenchman, and it is as a Frenchman that he is taken and is to be treated. I do not feel myself competent to decide on such a question in behalf of my country, and therefore, if I were minister to His Imperial Majesty, I should (I think) confine myself to prayer and solicitation until I received express orders from the President of the United States. But as I am not minister to the Emperor, I rather think that my interference would prove offensive and do more harm than good to M. de Lafayette, and the government of this country might feel itself offended. My opinion is, that the less we meddle in the great quarrel which agitates Europe the better will it be for us, and although the private feelings of friendship or humanity might properly sway us as private men, we have in our public character higher duties to fulfil than those which may be dictated by sentiments of affection towards an individual.”

Sudden disappearances and rapid changes were the order of the day in Paris now. People lost their heads; streets and places lost their names in the great whirl of excitement and emotion and the overwhelming desire for change. After the 10th of August the word royal was effaced; citizens named Leroi were requested to take some other that could not suggest hateful royalty to the world. Soon there was to be a protest against the ecclesiastical calendar. The names of the months were to suggest the season they occurred in, so that the Republican years should differ from all other years. Meantime, languishing in the Temple, uncomplainingly enduring the change that had come to them, were the royal family, helplessly submitting to every variety of contumely at the hands of those who had so lately called the King the Defender of his people. Disorder reigned. “The factions seem to be daily more embittered against each other,” Morris wrote, September 14th, “and, notwithstanding the common danger, they are far from a disposition to unite. It seems probable that those who possess Paris will dictate to the others. I take an airing in the boulevards to-day.”

“I will not pretend to relate, much less to describe, what has lately passed here,” Morris wrote to a friend in America during September. “It is too shocking, and among the victims are some whose fate will much affect you. I must not conceal from you that (as I am told) the venerable Madame d’Amville and M. de la Rochefoucault are on their way to this city under guard; the Duchesse de la Rochefoucault remains, I am told, at Roche-Guyon. Poor Charles Chabot is no more.” And a few days later he wrote to Mr. Short: “Among the many scenes of bloodshed which have of late been exhibited, you will lament the fate of the Duc de la Rochefoucault, killed in the presence of his aged mother. You seem to shudder at the excesses you had heard of in the beginning of the war. What will be your feelings at the scenes which have lately passed? I will not pretend to describe what I wish to forget, and I fear, also, that a just picture would be attributed rather to the glow of imagination than to the coloring of nature.”

“To-day,” says the diary for September 14th, “there is nothing from the armies except a confirmation of the raising of the Camp de Maulde, with some circumstances to show that the French have been roughly handled in that quarter. Some people have amused themselves this day in tearing the ear-rings out of people’s ears and taking their watches. It is said that some of the violators have been put to death.”

“This day [September 17th] accounts arrived from the army to show that Dumouriez has been defeated, or something very like it.”

“By the official reports [September 18th] Paris is in a state of imminent danger from the internal movement. The factions grow more inveterate. Everything still wears an appearance of confusion; no authority anywhere. I find, from various channels, that the Brissotine faction are desirous of doing me mischief, if they can.

“Nothing new this day [September 21st], except that the Convention has met and declared they will have no King in France. News are received of the march of the Prussian army towards Rheims, after a long action with the advance of Dumouriez’s army, under Kellermann, which was, I presume, to amuse him.”

In a letter to Washington, dated September 22d, Morris mentioned that he had hinted at the “dangers attending a residence in this city,” in a letter to Mr. Jefferson. “Some of the sanguinary events,” he goes on to say, “which have taken place and which were partial executions of great plans, will point to a natural interpretation thereof; but these were not what I contemplated. Should we ever meet, I will entertain you with the recital of many things which it would be improper to commit to paper, at least for the present. You will have seen that the King is accused of high crimes and misdemeanors, but I verily believe that he wished sincerely for this nation the enjoyment of the utmost degree of liberty which the situation of circumstances will permit. What may be his fate God only knows, but history informs us that the passage of dethroned monarchs is short from the prison to the grave. I discover three capital errors in the conduct of the Duke of Brunswick. First, his proclamation arrogated rights which in no construction could belong to him or his employers, and contained threats which no circumstances could warrant, and which in no supposable success could be executed. They tended, however, to unite the nation in opposing him, seeing that no hope remained for those who had taken any part in the Revolution; and the conduct observed towards M. de Lafayette and his companions was a severe comment on the cruelty of the text. Thus in the same moment he wounded the pride, insulted the feelings, and alarmed the fears of all France; and by his thundering menaces to protect the royal family he plunged them into the situation from which he meant to extricate them. The second error was not to dash at Paris the instant he received the news of the affair of the 10th. He should then have advanced at all hazards, and if in so doing he had declared to the several generals and armies that he expected their assistance to restore their dethroned prince and violated constitution, I am persuaded that he would have met with as much support as opposition. I learn within these two days that the delegates of Lorraine and Alsace had so little hope or, rather, were so thoroughly persuaded that those provinces would join the enemy, that they made unusual haste to come forward lest they should be apprehended. Great activity in that moment would have done wonders; but then he was not ready. The third great error was that, after waiting so long, he came forward at all this season. By menacing the frontiers with great and increasing force vast numbers of the militia would have been drawn to the utmost verge of the French territory. The difficulty of subsisting them there would have been extreme. By taking strong and good positions his troops would have been preserved in full vigor, and the French, wasted by disease, tired of inaction, and stimulated by their natural impatience and impetuosity of temper, would have forced their generals to attack, even if they had the prudence to be quiet. The consequence of such attack, excepting always the will of God, must have been a complete victory on his part, and then it would have been next to impossible for them to escape. Then the towns would have surrendered, believing the business to be over, and he might have come as far forward this autumn as the needful transportation of stores would permit. Next spring France would have found it almost impossible to subsist the armies needful for her defence in that part of the country which is most defensible, and of consequence her enemy would have reached the point from which he lately retreated without the smallest difficulty. France has a strong ally in the feelings of those nations who are subject to despotism, but for that very reason she has a mortal enemy in every prince. If (as is very possible) the league should hold firm till next spring it will then have gained considerable auxiliaries, and I am very much mistaken if this nation will make as great efforts as those she is now making. The character of nations must be taken into consideration in all political questions, and that of France has ever been an enthusiastic inconstancy. They soon get tired of a thing. They adopt without examination and reject without sufficient cause. They are now agog of their Republic, and may perhaps adopt some form of government with a huzza, but that they will adopt a good form, or, having adopted, adhere to it, that is what I do not believe. The future prospect, therefore, is involved in mist and darkness. There is but one sovereign in Europe—the Empress of Russia—who is not in the scale of talents considerably under par.

“I need not tell you, sir, how agreeable it would be to me, and what a load it would take from my mind to have positive instructions and orders from my government. At the same time, I am fully sensible that it may be inconvenient to give me such orders. The United States may wish to temporize and see how things are like to end, and in such case, leaving me at large, the right reserved to avow or disavow me, according to circumstances and events, is for the government an eligible position. My part in the play is not quite so eligible, but although I wish the Senate to be sensible of this, I am far from wishing that any precipitate step be taken to relieve me from it, for I know how contemptible is any private consideration when compared with the public interests. One step, however, seems natural, viz., to say that before any new letters of credence are given it will be proper to know to whom they are to be directed, because the Convention, a mere temporary body, is to be succeeded by some fixed form, and it may be a long time before any such form is adopted.

“Your letter for Lafayette must remain with me yet some time. His enemies here are as virulent as ever, and I can give you no better proof than this. Among the King’s papers was found nothing of what his enemies wished and expected, except his correspondence with M. de Lafayette, which breathes from beginning to end the purest sentiments of freedom. It is, therefore, kept secret, while he stands accused of designs in conjunction with the dethroned monarch to enslave his country. The fact respecting this correspondence is communicated to me by a person to whom it was related confidentially by one of the parties who examined it. You will have seen in my letter to Jefferson a proposition made by Mr. Short respecting M. de Lafayette, with my reply. I had very good reason to apprehend that our interference at that time would have been injurious to him, but I hope that a moment will soon offer in which something may be done for his relief. In reading my correspondence with Mr. Short you must consider that I wrote to the French and Austrian governments, as each would take the liberty to read my letters.”

“I am told [September 26th] that the King of Prussia has made overtures for accommodation with the Assembly. This is, I presume, a military trick. News have arrived that Montesquiou* has broken into Savoy, and is carrying all before him.”

Events since the 29th of August, when he met M. Lebrun and M. Clavière at the Hôtel of Foreign Affairs, had convinced Morris that his suspicions concerning the ministers were correct. “A private speculation was at the bottom of the proposal made to me,” he wrote to Mr. Jefferson, “and this accounts for the wrath I excited by the unwillingness on my part to jump over all bounds of my powers and instructions.”

“There is nothing extraordinary this day [September 30th], except a confirmation of the account that the King of Prussia wishes to treat, and which account I cannot believe.”

“We learn to-day [October 2d] that the Prussian army is retreating. This appears very extraordinary. They are said to be sickly.”

“This morning [October 3d] I have details respecting the retreat of the Prussians. Great sickness and the crafty policy of Austria account for it. This retreat gives room for a long war, should the Allies persist, unless the natural levity of the French should induce them to abandon their young republic in the cradle. There is every reason to apprehend a famine. Accounts arrive of the taking of Spires by General Custine and three thousand prisoners of war. Dumouriez seems extravagantly rejoiced at the retreat of the Prussian army. Re-enforcements are thrown into Lille, so that in all probability that place is saved. The rainy weather is very unfavorable to the sickly troops under the Duke of Brunswick. Everything looks favorably to the cause of the new republic. The weather is mild and pleasant.”

“Confirmations arrive [October 8th] of the taking of Nice, and from every quarter success pours in. ‘Oh mortal, impotent and blind to fate, too soon defeated and too soon elate.’ The weather is very foul. Dumouriez is seriously occupied by the plan of marching into Flanders. He says he will take up his winter-quarters at Brussels. I hear that Worms is taken, in which, by the by, there was no garrison.”

“Some despatches [October 22d], taken by the carelessness of Monsieur, the King’s brother, open up scenes of French good faith, or rather aristocratic folly.”

Of the wearisome uncertainty of his position Morris speaks to Jefferson in a letter of October 23d. He says:

“The unexpected events which have taken place in this country since your letter was written, and of which you will have been informed before this reaches you, will show you that I cannot, until I receive the President’s further orders, take up any of the objects to which it alludes, not having, indeed, the proper powers. I apprehend, also, the United States will wish to see a little into the establishment of the new republic before they take any decided steps in relation thereto. In this case I may be yet a long time without such orders, which is to me a distressing circumstance, because it involves a degree of responsibility for events which no human being can foresee. It may, indeed, be replied that in a position like mine the proper conduct is to preserve a strict neutrality, and, of course, to do nothing; but cases often arise in which to do nothing is taking a part. I had it in contemplation to leave Paris and visit Bordeaux and Marseilles, but I found it necessary to continue here for the sake of such of my countrymen as were in this city, and who might, in the madness of the moment, have been exposed to danger, but certainly to inconvenience; a proof of which is, that the English who remained after Lord Gower went away found it so difficult to obtain passports, though possessed of those he had given, that many, after waiting for weeks in fruitless attendance, went off at all hazards without them.

“As to the domestic affairs here, they are by no means quiet. The great majority of the Convention is united in opposition to a few members who are joined to some chiefs in this city and meditate further revolutions. They aver that those whom they call the Brissotines had no wish to overturn the monarchy, but only to get the loaves and fishes for themselves and their friends; that the affair of the 10th of August happened not only without their aid, but contrary to their wish; that, having happened, they did indeed take advantage of it to obtain the executive power for their particular friends, but that even then they would not consolidate the Revolution by destroying its enemies—a business, say they, which was effected on the 2d of September and the following days, and which those who now safely enjoy the fruits of it pretend to blame. The Brissotines, on the other hand, contend that they alone are the true friends of republican government, for which they have incessantly labored ever since the second Assembly met; that the attachment they professed to the late Constitution was only simulated, and was necessary to cover their attack upon it; that, in their various decrees, they constantly kept in view the advantage to be gained by obliging the King either to sanction what (though agreeable to the popular wish) was contrary to the Constitution—in which case the Constitution would have become a dead letter and have left the field of contest open between the King and the legislature—or else, if the King withheld his sanction, it turned the voice of the people against him, and left him in consequence exposed to successful attack whenever the favorable moment should present itself; that it was they, in short, who brought forward the plan of an army of twenty thousand republicans under the walls of Paris, and who took private and effectual measures to bring that army into the field if (as was apprehended) the King should put a veto on the decree; that it was owing to these measures that the Bretons and Marseillais and other Fédérés were on the spot to execute the plans of the 10th of August. These are the outlines of the arguments made use of on either side to convince the public that each is exclusively the author of a republic which the people find themselves possessed of by a kind of magic, or, at least, a sleight of hand, and which, nevertheless, they are as fond of as if it were their own offspring. To these main arguments are added a number of subordinate ones, with all the little accessories of time, place, and circumstance. The majority of the Convention, however, uncertain of the people of this city, and apprehensive that they may take it into their heads to make another revolution when they grow tired of the present state of things, have called (privately) for a guard from the different departments.

“This now forms the bone of contention; you will see in the gazettes, the arguments pro and con. I own that I think it a false stroke in politics, though, as a peaceable citizen of Paris and interested in the preservation of order, it is personally agreeable to me. On the ground of argument it is clearly a feature not republican, and prima facie implies that the Convention means to do things which a majority of the capital would disapprove; and hence it follows, again, that either the interests of the provinces and the capital are different, or else that the measures in contemplation are contrary to the inclinations of both. But it is not on the ground of theoretic argument that such things are to be tried, but from an examination of probable consequences. A guard of this sort evidently draws a strong, broad line of separation between the city and the Convention. It gives, of course, many means for operating on the people to those who are opposed to the Convention. It is among the things to be calculated on, that the guard, after it has been here some time, should catch the spirit of the city, be that what it may. In such case, instead of protectors they will find enemies in their guard. But admitting that this should not happen, if the guard be feeble it will be overawed; if strong, those who can influence the guard will command the Convention, who in this case will only have changed masters. If any little check should happen on the frontiers, it will be too unpopular to keep a considerable body of men for parade who might be useful in camp, and as soon as they go the people rise at once to resent the insult offered to them. It seems probable, therefore, that this guard will be among the reasons why the Convention may leave the city, and that would give a very serious shock, and in many ways. It is to be noted, also, that when they take up the report on a form of government, the opposition will find vast resources in the opinions of the majority, let those be what they may.

“With respect to the present temper of the people of this country, I am clearly of opinion the decided effective majority is now for the republic. What may be the temper and opinion six months hence no present sensible man would, I think, take upon him to declare, much less depend on the form of government which shall be presented by the Convention. If vigorous, it is very problematical whether the departments will adopt it, unless compelled by a sense of impending exterior dangers; if feeble, it is (humanly speaking) impossible that it can control the effervescent temper of this people, and that appears sufficiently by the fate of the late constitution. Whether they will be able to strike out that happy mean which secures all the liberty which circumstances will admit of, combined with all the energy which the same circumstances require; whether they can establish an authority which does not exist, as a substitute (and always a dangerous substitute) for that respect which cannot be restored after so much has been done to destroy it; whether, in crying down and even ridiculing religion, they will be able, on the tottering and uncertain base of metaphysic philosophy, to establish a solid edifice of morals—these are questions which time may solve.”

Toward the end of October Morris wrote to various friends in America to assure them of his well-being. To Mr. Samuel Ogden, he said: “The object of this letter is merely to tell you that I am still alive, after all the scenes of horror which have passed in this country, and that I am ever mindful of my friends.” To Robert Morris, he wrote: “If you do not receive my letters, do not hence conclude that I do not write; and even if I do not write, do not hence conclude that I am capable of forgetting my friends. About the time of my arrival in this city I wrote little, having, indeed, no time, because I was obliged to look for a house, furniture, etc.; and to this must be added having to receive and pay visits. But what from that time to this consumes many precious moments is the application of all sorts of persons on all sorts of subjects; and this I must be exposed to, or risk the turning away of some whose objects might be worthy of notice. Others, again, come to tell what they know, and I sit for an hour together hearing patiently what I knew two days before; but sometimes an additional circumstance, sometimes a difference of circumstances, throws new light both upon men and things; besides, if I won’t let them talk when they wish it, they won’t talk when I wish it.

“I think I see you smile and hear you say, ‘What good results from all this?’ I answer, that a man must work at his trade, and I will tell you that I was far the best informed of our corps. This could be of little use to the United States from the distance which intervenes, but is a great means of establishing one’s self so as to bring about the objects of our country, for then it becomes in some sort the interest of the ministers to be well with us. The 10th of August overset all this town, but if I had foreseen the events of that day I should have pursued the same conduct. Seed sown liberally will produce something, and I think I have pretty good intelligence now of the designs of both those parties which are at daggers-drawing in this country. But there is another reason which at times damps my correspondence, and that is the uncertainty and insecurity of the conveyance.”

In a letter to Rufus King, October 23d, he enters more fully into the conditions of affairs and the difficulties of his position.

“I cannot give you such desirable intelligence respecting the state of things here as I might have done if the late revolution had not taken place, because I find my intercourse of necessity suspended, and until I have orders respecting the new government I am bound to preserve a neutrality of conduct, so that I cannot, as heretofore, peep behind the scenes. Add to this that there is at present no very certain march anywhere, each feeling himself obliged to deviate, according to circumstances, from the course which he might wish. The late revolution has for its remote cause that excess in the human temper which drives men always to extremes if not checked and controlled. For its proximate cause it has the views and defects of the late constitution, and particularly that an executive without power was rendered responsible for events, and that a legislature composed of a single chamber of representatives was secured by every precaution and under no control except some paper maxims and popular opinion; that the people, or rather the populace, a thing which, thank God, is unknown in America, flattered with the idea that they are omnipotent, and disappointed from necessity in the golden prospects originally held out to them, were under no restraint except such as might be imposed by magistrates of their own choice. It resulted inevitably that the executive must be in the power of the legislative, and this last at the mercy of such men as could influence the mob. By reducing the royal authority below all reasonable measure the constitution-makers had created a moral impossibility—that the people should believe the King sincere in his acceptance, even if it had been possible that he should, without regret, have beheld himself reduced from the first place allotted to man to a state as low as to be exposed to insult from the lowest. It was evident, then, the Constitution could not last, and in the overturn three things might happen; viz., the establishment of despotism, the establishment of a good constitution, or the institution of a democracy. The first, under an able and ambitious prince, was inevitable; the second was extremely difficult, not in itself, but because the chiefs of different parties all found themselves committed to different points and opinions. The last was only a natural continuation of the progress of men’s minds in a necessary succession of ideas from the “Bill of Rights.” The advocates for republican government therefore had an easy task, although both to themselves and others it appeared difficult. From the moment that the second Assembly met, a plan was formed among several of the members and others to overturn the Constitution they had just sworn to observe, and establish a republic. This arose in part from the desire of placing themselves better than they could otherwise do, and in part from a conviction that the system could not last and that they would have no share in the administration under a pure monarchy. As they had a strong hold upon the lowest class of people, as the aristocrats and constitutional parties were at open war, as these last avowed openly their wish to amend, in other words, to change the Constitution, which at the same time they assumed to venerate, it was not a difficult matter to assault a monarch who adhered to that form which he could not be supposed to approve, and whose faults became daily more and more apparent. Add to this that the Court was involved in a spirit of little, paltry intrigue, unworthy of anything above the rank of footmen and chambermaids. Everyone had his or her little project, and every little project had some abettors. Strong, manly counsels frightened the weak, alarmed the envious, and wounded the enervate mind of the lazy and luxurious. Such counsels, therefore (if perchance any such appeared), were approved but not adopted, certainly not followed. The palace was always filled with people whose language, whose conduct, and whose manner were so diametrically opposite to everything like liberty, that it was easy to persuade the people that the Court meant to destroy the Constitution by observing strictly the Constitution. Some persons avowed this tactic, which from the moment of such avowal was no longer worth a doit.

“The King, whose integrity would never listen to anything like the violation of his oath, had nevertheless the weakness to permit those who openly avowed unconstitutional sentiments to approach his person and enjoy his intimacy. The Queen was the more prudent. The republicans (who had also their plan to destroy the Constitution by the Constitution) founded on the King’s personal integrity their operation to destroy his reputation for integrity and hold him out to the world as a traitor to the nation whom he was sworn to protect. They, in consequence, seized every occasion to pass popular decrees which were unconstitutional. If the King used his veto, he was accused of wishing a counter-revolution; if he sanctioned the decree, he was so far lost with those who were injured by the decree, and, of course, became daily more and more unprotected. The success of his enemies was beyond their own expectation. His palace was assaulted. He took refuge with the Assembly, and is now a prisoner of State.”

“You will have seen,” Morris wrote, October 24th, to Alexander Hamilton, “that the late Constitution of this country has overset—a natural accident to a thing which was all sail and no ballast. I desire much to know the state of opinion with us on that subject. The flight of M. de Lafayette, the murder of the Duc de la Rochefoucault and others, with many similar circumstances, have, I know, affected the ideas of some. But what will be the republican sense as to the new Republic? Will it be taken for granted that Louis the Sixteenth was guilty of all possible crimes, and particularly of the enormous one of not suffering his throat to be cut, which was certainly a nefarious plot against the people. Whatever may be the opinions, we are done with kings in France, at least for the present. There are two parties here, who drive hard at each other. The one consists of about half a dozen, and the other of fifteen or twenty, who are at daggers-drawing. Each claims the merit of having begotten the young republic upon the body of the Jacobin Club, and notwithstanding the dispute is very loud and open, the people is as fond of the child as if it were its own. But this has a relation to ancient manners; for there has been a practice here from time to time, whereof there is no memory of man to the contrary, viz., that one set of men were employed in getting children for another set. It is not worth while to detail the characters of those now on the stage, because they must soon give place to others.”

“It is confirmed to me to-day,” says the diary for November 2d, “that the Government have written to America urging my recall. There seems to be much movement in Paris. Robespierre has got through his affairs with éclat.”

It was just at this time that Louvet, one of the most resolute men in the Girondist party, accused Robespierre of calumniating the most virtuous patriots, of offering the basest flatteries to a hundred citizens. He described Robespierre’s intrigues, his ambition, his great ascendency over the people, interspersing his vehement philippic with the appalling sentence, “Robespierre, I accuse thee.” Morris alludes to the fact that Robespierre, after demanding a delay of eight days to prepare his defence, appeared at the end of that time in the light of a triumphant antagonist, rather than an accused person.

[*]Anne Pierre, Marquis de Montesquiou-Ferzensac was brought to the special notice of Monsieur (Louis ⅩⅧ.) by his taste for letters. Appointed in 1771 premier écuyer, he became a maréchal de camp in 1780. In the American Revolution he served with distinction. A deputy to the States General from the Nobles in 1789, he, after the king’s arrest at Varennes, was called to command the Army of the South. After achieving the conquest of Savoy, in 1792, without bloodshed, he was accused of compromising the dignity of the nation, and retired to Switzerland. Born in 1741, he died in 1798.