song in the "Deserter," "Can we grieve those whom we love?" which also
made a powerful impression upon those present: on all sides were heard
praises of their Majesties, exclamations of affection, expressions of
regret for what they had suffered, clapping of hands, and shouts of "Vive
le Roi! Vive la Reine! Vive le Dauphin!" It has been said that white
cockades were worn on this occasion; that was not the case; the fact is,
that a few young men belonging to the National Guard of Versailles, who
were invited to the entertainment, turned the white lining of their
national cockades outwards. All the military men quitted the hall, and
reconducted the King and his family to their apartments. There was
intoxication in these ebullitions of joy: a thousand extravagances were
committed by the military, and many of them danced under the King's
windows; a soldier belonging to the Flanders regiment climbed up to the
balcony of the King's chamber in order to shout "Vive le Roi!" nearer his
Majesty; this very soldier, as I have been told by several officers of the
corps, was one of the first and most dangerous of their insurgents in the
riots of the 5th and 6th of October. On the same evening another soldier
of that regiment killed himself with a sword. One of my relations,
chaplain to the Queen, who supped with me, saw him stretched out in a
corner of the Place d'Armes; he went to him to give him spiritual
assistance, and received his confession and his last sighs. He destroyed
himself out of regret at having suffered himself to be corrupted by the
enemies of his King, and said that, since he had seen him and the Queen
and the Dauphin, remorse had turned his brain.

I returned home, delighted with all that I had seen.

I found a great many people there. M. de Beaumetz, deputy for Arras,
listened to my description with a chilling air, and, when I had finished,
told me that all that had passed was terrific; that he knew the