from the capital. The city was completely in the hands of the
insurgents, who were driven hither and thither by every passion which
can sway the human soul. Patriotic zeal blended with envy, hatred,
malice, revenge, and avarice. The mob at last attacked the Bastille, a
formidable fortress where state-prisoners were arbitrarily confined. In
spite of moats and walls and guns, this gloomy monument of royal tyranny
was easily taken, for it was manned by only about one hundred and forty
men, and had as provisions only two sacks of flour. No aid could
possibly come to the rescue. Resistance was impossible, in its
unprepared state for defence, although its guns, if properly manned,
might have demolished the whole Faubourg Saint-Antoine.

The news of the fall of this fortress came like a thunder-clap over
Europe. It announced the reign of anarchy in France, and the
helplessness of the King. On hearing of the fall of the Bastille, the
King is said to have exclaimed to his courtiers, "It is a revolt, then."
"Nay, sire," said the Duke of Liancourt, "it is a revolution." It was
evident that even then the King did not comprehend the situation. But
how few could comprehend it! Only one man saw the full tendency of
things, and shuddered at the consequences,--and this man was Mirabeau.

The King, at last aroused, appeared in person in the National Assembly,
and announced the withdrawal of the troops from Paris and the recall of
Necker. But general mistrust was alive in every bosom, and disorders
still continued to a frightful extent, even in the provinces. "In
Brittany the towns appointed new municipalities, and armed a civic guard
from the royal magazines. In Caen the people stormed the citadel and
killed the officers of the salt-tax. Nowhere were royal intendants seen.
The custom-houses, at the gates of the provincial cities, were
demolished. In Franche-Comté a noble castle was burned every day. All