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In the centre of the west end of the garden, was the famous Pont tournant, by which, on the 11th of July 1789, the Prince de Lambesc entered it at the head of his regiment of cavalry, and, by maltreating some peaceable saunterers, gave the Parisians a specimen of what they were to expect from the disposition of the court.
I was of the first at the hanging of Foulon, at the sacking of Reveillon, and at the walls of the Bastille. I was wounded in the stand against the Dragoons of Lambesc, and all know my scars in the battles of the North. I name these things only to prove the claim of this woman to civic rights. By her pity she saved my life in the old days, at the last moment before my breaking on the wheel.
The mob disperses, part towards the quays, part fall back on the Boulevards, the rest hurry to the Tuileries by the Pont Tournant. The prince de Lambesc, at the head of his horsemen, with drawn sabre pursues them into the gardens, and charges an unarmed multitude who were peaceably promenading and had nothing to do with the procession.
These, and the hedges of cypress and cane, which we occasionally saw, began to give an Italian character to this part of France. The adjoining part of the vale of the Durance is called the district of the Cheval Blanc, and, like its namesake, the vale of White Horse in Berks, is celebrated for its fertility. To Lambesc twelve miles.
For some miles during this stage the face of the country was interesting and rich in cultivation, with a ruined castle or two, which form striking features; but on turning to the right up a long hill which led to Lambesc, and leaving the vale of the Durance behind us, backed by its high barrier of table-shaped mountains, the country became very monotonous.
The news of it, borne to Versailles by Lambesc in flight with his dragoons before the vast armed force that had sprouted from the paving-stones of Paris, gave the Court pause. The people were in possession of the guns captured from the Bastille. They were erecting barricades in the streets, and mounting these guns upon them. The attack had been too long delayed.
It must be confessed that it concerned a matter most interesting to the travellers that of the stoppage of a diligence bearing a sum of sixty thousand francs belonging to the government. The affair had occurred the day before on the road from Marseilles to Avignon between Lambesc and Pont-Royal. At the first words referring to this event, the two young men listened with unmistakable interest.
The procession advances in this way to the Place Vendome, and there they carry the two busts twice round the statue of Louis XIV. A detachment of the Royal-allemand comes up and attempts to disperse the mob, but are put to flight by a shower of stones; and the multitude, continuing its course, reaches the Place Louis XV. Here they are assailed by the dragoons of the prince de Lambesc; after resisting a few moments they are thrown into confusion; the bearer of one of the busts and a soldier of one of the French guards are killed.
"Gentlemen," said he, in the profound silence occasioned by his apparition, "is there a traveller here named Jean Picot, who was in the diligence that was held up yesterday between Lambesc and Pont-Royal?" "Yes," said the wine merchant, amazed. "Are you he?" asked the masked man. "I am." "Was anything taken from you?" "Oh, yes, two hundred louis, which I had intrusted to the conductor."
"I just now heard some more details from an officer of of the Lambesc Dragoons," Répentigny continued. "My namesake was perfectly silent; Louis, on the contrary, quite unlike his ordinary manner, made no attempt to control himself. He never ceased to exclaim, 'Clodfoot! Impostor! and to taunt the stranger at each stroke with his father's origin.
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