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entrance of the Faubourgs, at the palace of the Tuileries, on the quays
and on the bridges, for the defence of the capital against the invasion
of troops, which was expected every moment.
From nine in the morning till two the only rallying word throughout
Paris was "A la Bastille! A la Bastille!" The citizens hastened thither
in bands from all quarters, armed with guns, pikes, and sabres. The
crowd which already surrounded it was considerable; the sentinels of the
fortress were at their posts, and the drawbridges raised as in war. The
populace advanced to cut the chains of the bridge. The garrison
dispersed them with a charge of musketry. They returned, however, to the
attack, and for several hours their efforts were confined to the bridge,
the approach to which was defended by a ceaseless fire from the
fortress.
The siege had lasted more than four hours when the French guards arrived
with cannon. Their arrival changed the appearance of the combat. The
garrison itself begged the governor to yield.
The gates were opened, the bridge lowered, and the crowd rushed into the
Bastille.
_III.--"Bread! Bread!"_
The multitude which was enrolled on July 14 was not yet, in the
following autumn, disbanded. And the people, who were in want of bread,
wished for the king to reside at Paris, in the hope that his presence
would diminish or put a stop to the dearth of provisions. On the pretext
of protecting itself against the movements in Paris, the court summoned
troops to Versailles, doubled the household guards, and sent in
September (1789) for the dragoons and the Flanders regiment.
The officers of the Flanders regiment, received with anxiety in the town
of Versailles, were feted at the chateau, and even admitted to the
queen's card tables. Endeavours were made to secure their devotion, and
on October 1, a banquet was given to them by the king's guards. The king
was announced. He entered attired in a hunting dress, the queen leaning
on his arm and carrying the dauphin. Shouts of affection and devotion
arose on every side. The health of the royal family was drunk with
swords drawn, and when Louis XVI. withdrew the music played "O Richard!
O mon roi! L'univers t'abandonne." The scene now assumed a very
significant character; the march of the Hullans and the profusion of
wine deprived the guests of all reserve. The charge was sounded;
tottering guests climbed the boxes as if mounting to an assault; white
cockades wer
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