We saw the royal family pass between two lines formed by the Swiss grenadiers and those of the battalions of the Petits-Peres and the Filles Saint Thomas.  They were so pressed upon by the crowd that during that short passage the Queen was robbed of her watch and purse.  A man of great height and horrible appearance, one of such as were to be seen at the head of all the insurrections, drew near the Dauphin, whom the Queen was leading by the hand, and took him up in his arms.  The Queen uttered a scream of terror, and was ready to faint.  The man said to her, “Don’t be frightened, I will do him no harm;” and he gave him back to her at the entrance of the chamber.

I leave to history all the details of that too memorable day, confining myself to recalling a few of the frightful scenes acted in the interior of the Tuileries after the King had quitted the palace.

The assailants did not know that the King and his family had betaken themselves to the Assembly; and those who defended the palace from the aide of the courts were equally ignorant of it.  It is supposed that if they had been aware of the fact the siege would never have taken place.

[In reading of the events of the 10th of August, 1792, the reader must remember that there was hardly any armed force to resist the mob.  The regiments that had shown signs of being loyal to the King had been removed from Paris by the Assembly.  The Swiss had been deprived of their own artillery, and the Court had sent one of their battalions into Normandy at a time when there was an idea of taking refuge there.  The National Guard were either disloyal or disheartened, and the gunners, especially of that force at the Tuileries, sympathised with the mob.  Thus the King had about 800 or 900 Swiss and little more than one battalion of the National Guard.  Mandat, one of the six heads of the legions of the National Guard, to whose turn the command fell on that day, was true to his duty, but was sent for to the Hotel de Ville and assassinated.  Still the small force, even after the departure of the King, would have probably beaten off the mob had not the King given the fatal order to the Swiss to cease firing.  (See Thiers’s “Revolution Francaise,” vol. i., chap. xi.) Bonaparte’s opinion of the mob may be judged by his remarks on the 20th June, 1792, when, disgusted at seeing the King appear with the red cap on his head, he exclaimed, “Che coglione!  Why have they let in all that rabble?  Why don’t they sweep off 400 or 500 of them with the cannon?  The rest would then set off.” ("Bourrienne,” vol. i., p.13, Bentley, London, 1836.) Bonaparte carried out his own plan against a far stronger force of assailants on the Jour des Sections, 4th October, 1795.]