faithful Guards, some on foot, and some on horseback, most of them
uncovered, all unarmed, and worn out with hunger and fatigue; the
dragoons, the Flanders regiment, the hundred Swiss, and the National
Guards preceded, accompanied, or followed the file of carriages. I
witnessed this heartrending spectacle; I saw the ominous procession. In
the midst of all the tumult, clamour, and singing, interrupted by frequent
discharges of musketry, which the hand of a monster or a bungler might so
easily render fatal, I saw the Queen preserving most courageous
tranquillity of soul, and an air of nobleness and inexpressible dignity,
and my eyes were suffused with tears of admiration and grief.--"Memoirs of
Bertrand de Molleville."]

The progress of the procession was so slow that it was near six in the
evening when this august family, made prisoners by their own people,
arrived at the Hotel de Ville. Bailly received them there; they were
placed upon a throne, just when that of their ancestors had been
overthrown. The King spoke in a firm yet gracious manner; he said that he
always came with pleasure and confidence among the inhabitants of his good
city of Paris. M. Bailly repeated this observation to the representatives
of the commune, who came to address the King; but he forgot the word
confidence. The Queen instantly and loudly reminded him of the omission.
The King and Queen, their children, and Madame Elisabeth, retired to the
Tuileries. Nothing was ready for their reception there. All the
living-rooms had been long given up to persons belonging to the Court;
they hastily quitted them on that day, leaving their furniture, which was
purchased by the Court. The Comtesse de la Marck, sister to the Marechaux
de Noailles and de Mouchy, had occupied the apartments now appropriated to
the Queen. Monsieur and Madame retired to the Luxembourg.

The Queen had sent for me on the morning of the 6th of October, to leave