“All at once, as if by the power of magic, the doors flew open, ‘grating on their hinges harsh thunder,’ and the President’s secretary was introduced with an American officer bearing a flag, which I took to be a representation of the day of judgment. It had a _thunderbolt_ in the centre, with a _cock_ perched upon it! the emblems of Almighty vengeance and of watchfulness. At two of the corners the _globe_ was represented in a flame. The staff was covered with black velvet, sad colour of death, and crowned with a Parisian pike,--fatal instrument, on which the bleeding and ghastly heads, nay, even the palpitating hearts of men, women, and children, have so often been presented to the view of the polite and humane inhabitants of that capital. “Curiosity now gave way to another passion, that of fear. For my part, I am not ashamed to confess, that I never was in such trepidation since I first saw the light of day. Nor were my companions in a more enviable state. I looked round, and beheld the affrighted group huddled up together, like a brood of chickens waiting the mortal grip of the voracious kite. In this general picture of consternation one object attracted particular notice. It was a democrat, who was so fully persuaded that the flag was the harbinger of fate, that he began to anticipate the torments of the world to come. Never did I before behold such dreadful symptoms of a guilty conscience. He was as white as paper, his knees knocked together, his teeth chattered, he wrung his hands, and rolled his eyes, but durst not lift them towards heaven. His voice was like the yell of the inhabitants of the infernal regions. ‘Oh, Franklin Bache! Franklin Bache! Oh! that infernal atheistical calendar!’ This was all we could get from him; but this was enough to assure me that he was one of those unhappy wretches, who had been led astray by the profligate correspondents of Mr. Bache, and by the atheistical decadery calendar; which that gentleman has, with so much unholy zeal, endeavoured to introduce amongst us, in place of the Christian one we, as yet, make use of. “My attention was called off from this terrific picture of despair by a voice from beneath. A tall spare man, dressed all in black from head to foot … was beginning, in a hollow voice, to read (as I expected) the decrees of fate, but to my agreeable surprise I found it was a decree of the National Convention: it was in the following words, &c.”