the Queen, the clergy, the nobles are all
parties to it; and likewise the magistrates and the wealthy amongst the
bourgeoisie and the rich. A rumor is current in the Ile-de-France that
sacks of flour are thrown into the Seine, and that the cavalry horses
are purposely made to eat unripe wheat in stalk. In Brittany, it is
maintained that grain is exported and stored up abroad. In Touraine, it
is certain that this or that wholesale dealer allows it to sprout in his
granaries rather than sell it. At Troyes, a story prevails that another
has poisoned his flour with alum and arsenic, commissioned to do so
by the bakers.--Conceive the effect of suspicions like these upon a
suffering multitude! A wave of hatred ascends from the empty stomach to
the morbid brain. The people are everywhere in quest of their imaginary
enemies, plunging forward with closed eyes no matter on whom or on what,
not merely with all the weight of their mass, but with all the energy of
their fury.

IV.--Panic.

General arming.

From the earliest of these weeks they were already alarmed. Accustomed
to being led, the human herd is scared at being left to itself; it
misses its leaders who it has trodden under foot; in throwing off their
trammels it has deprived itself of their protection. It feels lonely,
in an unknown country, exposed to dangers of which it is ignorant, and
against which it is unable to guard itself. Now that the shepherds are
slain or disarmed, suppose the wolves should unexpectedly appear!--And
there are wolves--I mean vagabonds and criminals--who have but just
issued out of the darkness. They have robbed and burned, and are to be
found at every insurrection. Now that the police force no longer puts
them down, they show themselves instead of keeping themselves concealed.
They have only to lie in wait and come forth in a band, and both life
and property will be at their mercy.--Deep anxiety, a vague feeling of
dread, spreads through both town and country: towards the end of July
the panic, like a blinding, suffocating whirl of dusts, suddenly sweeps
over hundreds of leagues of territory. The brigands are coming! They are
burning the crops! They are only six leagues off, and then only two--the
refugees who have run away from the disorder prove it.

On the 28th of July, at Angouleme,[1311] the alarm bell is heard about
three o'clock in the afternoon; the drums beat to arms, and cannon are
mounted on the ramparts. The town h