On August 10th, from the window of a shop near the Tuileries, he looked down on the strange events which dealt the coup de grace to the dying monarchy.  Again the chieftain within him sided against the vulture rabble and with the well-meaning monarch who kept his troops to a tame defensive.  “If Louis XVI.” (so wrote Buonaparte to his brother Joseph) “had mounted his horse, the victory would have been his—­so I judge from the spirit which prevailed in the morning.”  When all was over, when Louis sheathed his sword and went for shelter to the National Assembly, when the fierce Marseillais were slaughtering the Swiss Guards and bodyguards of the king, Buonaparte dashed forward to save one of these unfortunates from a southern sabre.  “Southern comrade, let us save this poor wretch.—­Are you of the south?—­Yes.—­Well, we will save him.”

Altogether, what a time of disillusionment this was to the young officer.  What depths of cruelty and obscenity it revealed in the Parisian rabble.  What folly to treat them with the Christian forbearance shown by Louis XVI.  How much more suitable was grapeshot than the beatitudes.  The lesson was stored up for future use at a somewhat similar crisis on this very spot.

During the few days when victorious Paris left Louis with the sham title of king, Buonaparte received his captain’s commission, which was signed for the king by Servan, the War Minister.  Thus did the revolutionary Government pass over his double breach of military discipline at Ajaccio.  The revolutionary motto, “La carriere ouverte aux talents,” was never more conspicuously illustrated than in the facile condoning of his offences and in this rapid promotion.  It was indeed a time fraught with vast possibilities for all republican or Jacobinical officers.  Their monarchist colleagues were streaming over the frontiers to join the Austrian and Prussian invaders.  But National Guards were enrolling by tens of thousands to drive out the Prussian and Austrian invaders; and when Europe looked to see France fall for ever, it saw with wonder her strength renewed as by enchantment.  Later on it learnt that that strength was the strength of Antaeus, of a peasantry that stood firmly rooted in their native soil.  Organization and good leadership alone were needed to transform these ardent masses into the most formidable soldiery; and the brilliant military prospects now opened up certainly knit Buonaparte’s feelings more closely with the cause of France.  Thus, on September 21st, when the new National Assembly, known as the Convention, proclaimed the Republic, we may well believe that sincere convictions no less than astute calculations moved him to do and dare all things for the sake of the new democratic commonwealth.[17]