I met General Washington.  He was tall, calm, and cold rather than noble in mien; the engravings of him are good.  We sat down, and I explained to him as well as I could the motive of my journey.  He answered me in English and French monosyllables, and listened to me with a sort of astonishment.  I perceived this, and said to him with some warmth:  “But is it less difficult to discover the north-west passage than to create a nation as you have done?”

“Well, well, young man!” cried he, holding out his hand to me.  He invited me to dine with him on the following day, and we parted.  I took care not to fail in my appointment.  The conversation turned on the French Revolution, and the general showed us a key of the Bastille.  Such was my meeting with the citizen soldier—­the liberator of a world.

III.—­Paris in the Reign of Terror

In 1792, when I returned to Paris, it no longer exhibited the same appearance as in 1789 and 1790.  It was no longer the new-born Revolution, but a people intoxicated, rushing on to fulfil its destiny across abysses and by devious ways.  The appearance of the people was no longer curious and eager, but threatening.

The king’s flight on June 21, 1791, gave an immense impulse to the Revolution.  Having been brought back to Paris on June 25, he was dethroned for the first time, in consequence of the declaration of the National Assembly that all its decrees should have the force of law, without the king’s concurrence or assent.  I visited several of the “Clubs.”

The scenes at the Cordeliers, at which I was three or four times present, were ruled and presided over by Danton—­a Hun, with the nature of a Goth.

Faithful to my instincts, I had returned from America to offer my sword to Louis XVI., not to involve myself in party intrigues.  I therefore decided to “emigrate.”  Brussels was the headquarters of the most distinguished emigres.  There I found my trifling baggage, which had arrived before me.  The coxcomb emigres were hateful to me.  I was eager to see those like myself, with 600 livres income.

My brother remained at Brussels as an aide-de-camp to the Baron de Montboissier.  I set out alone for Coblentz, went up the Rhine to that city, but the royal army was not there.  Passing on, I fell in with the Prussian army between Coblentz and Treves.  My white uniform caught the king’s eye.  He sent for me; he and the Duke of Brunswick took off their hats, and in my person saluted the old French army.

IV.—­The Army of Princes

I was almost refused admission into the army of princes, for there were already too many gallant men ready to fight.  But I said I had just come from America to have the honour of serving with old comrades.  The matter was arranged, the ranks were opened to receive me, and the only remaining difficulty was where to choose.  I entered the 7th company of the Bretons.  We had tents, but were in want of everything else.