No words can give an idea of the silly appearance of Manuel when he found the word _King_ had escaped from his lips. At the sound of that name I perceived Legendre,[1] his body writhing and distorted, preparing to bellow. As he was sitting down he gave Bourdon l’Oise[1] a tremendous box on the ear for calling him to order, which the other returned by a sound blow in the face. Several Deputies parted them. In the midst of this confusion, when all the members were talking together, Barrère rang his bell and told the King he might withdraw. The King then said to the President: “I request to have the assistance of counsel,” and then withdrew before an answer could be given. That artful and infernal villain, Barrère, during this trial affected great sympathy towards his injured sovereign, articulated all the charges in a faltering accent, and remained uncovered during the whole time the King was present. Most of the members wore their hats. The Duke of Orleans, who seated himself in full view of his fallen relative, was, however, uncovered. The King was plainly dressed in an olive silk coat, and looked remarkably well. Barrère wore a dark coat and scarlet waistcoat, lead-coloured kerseymere breeches and white silk stockings. Robespierre wore black. Orleans was habited in blue. The majority of the members looked like blackguards. Legendre wore no neckcloth, but an open collar _à la_ Brutus. Manuel was much agitated by the misapplication of the word King. Not so the monarch, who dropped a similar expression. As he was giving an account of the invitation to the entertainment at Versailles, which the Queen had received from the Gardes de Corps, he caught up his words and said: “La ci-devant Reine, ma femme.” The rest of this affecting spectacle is sufficiently known. I have mentioned the incidents above because I have never seen them in any printed accounts of that melancholy day. It has been generally asserted that no effort was made to rescue the captive monarch. This assertion is false. I am personally acquainted with a man who had 15,000 livres deposited in his hands for the purpose of rescuing the King. This sum was so prudently distributed and the plan so judiciously made, that if Santerre had not ordered drums to beat, to drown the forcible appeal the Royal sufferer was making to the people, I surely believe it would have been carried into effect. There were persons on the fatal spot prepared to seize the moment of opportunity, had the fickle character of the Parisian populace, who would send up shouts to Heaven to-morrow at the execution of the First Consul, whom they adore to-day, made it likely that they would have joined or divided in the enterprise. There is not a spot in this Hall of Convention which does not revive a thousand sublime and painful recollections.