The arrival of the crowd, among whom I had taken my unwilling seat, evidently gave new spirits to the regicides; the moment was critical.  Even in Jacobinism all were not equally black, and the fear of the national revulsion at so desperate a deed startled many, who might not have been withheld by feelings of humanity.  The leaders had held a secret consultation while the debate was drawing on its slow length, and Danton’s old expedient of “terror” was resolved on.  His emissaries had been sent round Paris to summon all his banditti; and the low cafes, the Faubourg taverns, and every haunt of violence, and the very drunkenness of crime, had poured forth.  The remnant of the Marseillois—­a gang of actual galley-slaves, who had led the late massacres—­the paid assassins of the Marais, and the sabreurs of the Royal Guard, who after treason to their king, had found profitable trade in living on the robbery and blood of the nobles and priests, formed this reinforcement; and their entrance into the gallery was recognised by a clapping of hands from below, which they answered by a roar, accompanied with the significant sign of clashing their knives and sabres.

Danton immediately rushed into the Tribune.  I had seen him before, on the fearful night which prepared the attack on the palace; but he was then in the haste and affected savageness of the rabble.  He now played the part of leader of a political sect; and the commencement of his address adopted something of the decorum of public council.  In this there was an artifice; for, resistless as the club was, it still retained a jealousy of the superior legislative rank of the assembly of national representatives, the Convention.  The forms of the Convention were strictly imitated; and even those Jacobins who usually led the debate, scrupulously wore the dress of the better orders.  Robespierre was elaborately dressed whenever he appeared in the Tribune, and even Danton abandoned the canaille costume for the time.  I was struck with his showy stature, his bold forehead, and his commanding attitude, as he stood waving his hand over the multitude below, as if he waved a sceptre.  His appearance was received with a general shout from the gallery, which he returned by one profound bow, and then stood erect, till all sounds had sunk.  His powerful voice then rang through the extent of the hall.  He began with congratulating the people on their having relieved the Republic from its external dangers.  His language at first was moderate, and his recapitulation of the perils which must have befallen a conquered country, was sufficiently true and even touching; but his tone soon changed, and I saw the true democrat.  “What!” he cried, “are those perils to the horrors of domestic perfidy?  What are the ravages on the frontier to poison and the dagger at our firesides?  What is the gallant death in the field to assassination in cold blood?  Listen, fellow-citizens, there is at this hour a plot deeper laid for your destruction