thousands of muskets were kept fit for instant use; one division of
regular troops, whose commander, the Baron de Besenval, was a resolute
man, determined to do his duty, mutinying against his orders, and refusing
to fire on the mob. They took possession of the city gates, and, thinking
themselves now strong enough for any exploit, on the third day of the
insurrection, the 14th of July, they marched in overpowering force to
attack the Bastile.

In former times the Bastile had been the great fortress of the city; and,
as such, it had been fortified with all the resources of the engineer's
art. Massive well-armed towers rose at numerous points above walls of
great height and solidity. A deep fosse surrounded it, and, when well
supplied and garrisoned, it had been regarded with pride by the citizens,
as a bulwark capable of defying the utmost efforts of a foreign enemy, and
not the less to be admired because they never expected it to be exposed to
such a test; but as a warlike fortress it had long been disused. In recent
times it had only been known as the State-prison, identified more than any
other with the worst acts of despotism and barbarity. As such it was now
as much detested as it had formerly been respected; and it had nothing but
the outward appearance of strength to resist an attack. Evidently the
military authorities had never anticipated the possibility that the mob
would rise to such a height of audacity. But the rioters were now
encouraged by two days of unbroken success, and those who spurred them on
were well-informed as well as fearless. They knew that the castle was in
such a state that its apparent strength was its real weakness; that its
entire garrison consisted of little more than a hundred soldiers, most of
whom were superannuated veterans, a force inadequate to man one-tenth of
the defenses; and that the governor, De Launay, though personally brave,
was a man devoid of presence of mind, and nervous under responsibility.

Led by a brewer, named Santerre, who for the next three years bore a
conspicuous part in all the worst deeds of ferocity and horror, they
assailed the gates in vast numbers. While the attention of the scanty
garrison was fully occupied by this assault, another party scaled the
walls at a point where there was not even a sentinel to give the alarm,
and let down one draw-bridge across the fosse, while another was loosened,
as is believed, by traitors in the garrison itself. Swarming a