The rapidly increasing distrust of the King and Queen shown by the populace was greatly attributable to incessant corruption by English gold, and the projects, either of revenge or of ambition, of the Duc d’Orleans.  Let it not be thought that this accusation is founded on what has been so often repeated by the heads of the French Government since the Revolution.  Twice between the 14th of July and the 6th of October, 1789, the day on which the Court was dragged to Paris, the Queen prevented me from making little excursions thither of business or pleasure, saying to me, “Do not go on such a day to Paris; the English have been scattering gold, we shall have some disturbance.”  The repeated visits of the Duc d’Orleans to England had excited the Anglomania to such a pitch that Paris was no longer distinguishable from London.  The French, formerly imitated by the whole of Europe, became on a sudden a nation of imitators, without considering the evils that arts and manufactures must suffer in consequence of the change.  Since the treaty of commerce made with England at the peace of 1783, not merely equipages, but everything, even to ribands and common earthenware, were of English make.  If this predominance of English fashions had been confined to filling our drawing-rooms with young men in English frock-coats, instead of the French dress, good taste and commerce might alone have suffered; but the principles of English government had taken possession of these young heads.  Constitution, Upper House, Lower House, national guarantee, balance of power, Magna Charta, Law of Habeas Corpus,—­all these words were incessantly repeated, and seldom understood; but they were of fundamental importance to a party which was then forming.

The first sitting of the States took place on the following day.  The King delivered his speech with firmness and dignity; the Queen told me that he had taken great pains about it, and had repeated it frequently.  His Majesty gave public marks of attachment and respect for the Queen, who was applauded; but it was easy to see that this applause was in fact rendered to the King alone.

It was evident, during the first sittings, that Mirabeau would be very dangerous to the Government.  It affirmed that at this period he communicated to the King, and still more fully to the Queen, part of his schemes for abandoning them.  He brandished the weapons afforded him by his eloquence and audacity, in order to make terms with the party he meant to attack.  This man played the game of revolution to make his own fortune.  The Queen told me that he asked for an embassy, and, if my memory does not deceive me, it was that of Constantinople.  He was refused with well-deserved contempt, though policy would doubtless have concealed it, could the future have been foreseen.